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Steve should've known that the frankly dastardly look on Eddie's face after Steve had told him "Thanks, I definitely owe you one," would have come to bite him in the ass.
After all, anything Steve could have offered to pay him back with was something Eddie already had, unless his van broke down or something.
Eddie cashed in before any van troubles, though.
And it's not like the favor was outside of the realm of what Steve was comfortable with, he just... didn't expect it. That's all.
--
"We'll do two minute poses at first, until I get warmed up, and then we can do quicker ones," Eddie says, dragging his desk chair to the middle of his room.
It's still relatively clean in here, considering the Munsons moved like three months ago. It highlights how Eddie's stamina for tasks has been a slowly healing thing, otherwise it'd be a tornado of a mess by now.
Which is kind of why Steve's here, draping a blanket over the chair, trying to remember how long it's been since he's been naked in front of someone else.
He sits, making sure he's comfortable as he crosses his legs to shield himself from view, not quite ready for Eddie to be examining the light and shadows of his cock.
He hadn't even known that Eddie's an artist, like one seriously enough to have gone to classes in the city and to care about things like form and whatever the hell he was doing when he held his pencil up in the air between Steve and his giant sketchbook.
"Is it warm enough in here?" Eddie asks, doing a lot more staring at Steve than sketching as his little egg timer ticks down.
"For now, yeah," he responds, wondering if he's blushing or not.
It's hard to tell sometimes, his skin is just hot in general most of the time, and sure, this is weird but he's not really embarrassed, especially since Eddie talked to him properly about everything that went into this. He already knew people did like, posing nude for artists, and honestly, it's just Eddie, who has probably seen every bit of his body that couldn't be covered by his underwear.
So what's a little more?
Though, finally looking right at Eddie's face once he's putting lines down, his cheeks are getting red.
That's kind of funny, he wonders if Eddie ever blushed when he went to the classes. Maybe this is like, weird for him because he knows Steve, and it's just the two of them, so it's more personal.
The egg timer goes off and Eddie looks up at him, letting his back slouch against the headboard of his bed. Apparently it's more comfortable for him to stretch out his legs on there instead of letting Steve bring a kitchen chair in, but given how Eddie has to hold himself up straight if he wants to draw on the sketchbook, that has to get tiring.
"What?" Eddie asks.
"Nothing, just lemme know if you want that chair," he says, shifting around into a new pose.
Eddie shoots him a look, kind of exasperated and kind of amused, like he does whenever Steve reads him too easily and is already grabbing his pain meds or a hot water bottle for him.
So he notices Eddie's body language, fucking sue him.
"I'm fine," Eddie rolls his eyes, setting the timer.
Steve's hugging his leg this time, body facing the wall at an angle so Eddie gets the profile view of him, his cock still safe from his scrutiny.
He's not sure why he needed to start off so modest, but that's got to be normal for people, right? He glances over at Eddie, moving his head a bit to see him clearly, and Eddie waves a hand a him.
"Move your head back," he says, distracted as he sketches.
He wants to laugh but he bites it down, just looks back at the wall. Maybe the next pose he does he'll position his head so it's looking right at him, and he can stare at him while he's drawing.
The room is starting to feel a little warm, like Eddie had turned the heat up on purpose for him, which he appreciates even if he doesn't really get cold that easily. He's famously got a lot of blood in his body, and even more famously is a furnace of a guy.
Maybe if he starts sweating it'll give Eddie good practice at drawing it. Water must be really hard to draw since it's clear, like how do you make something show up clear if you're drawing it? Using outlines, he guesses, but that's got to be hard to figure out if it's on top of something that's not clear.
The egg timer goes and he turns, bringing his other leg up to hug both of his legs, resting his chin on them, facing Eddie. It's comfortable, and he's feeling a little sleepy so he turns his head to rest his cheek down instead before Eddie can start drawing and get mad at him for moving.
"Are you cold?" Eddie asks, even though Steve had told him the room was fine like five minutes ago or something.
"Nah," he mumbles, giving him a smile.
Eddie must be feeling the heat in here, since his cheeks are even redder than before. He feels a little disappointed, and realizes that he had been hoping that this was making Eddie flustered.
It wouldn't make any sense if he was, since he was experienced with this kind of nudity; people naked for the sake of art and not for sex. Maybe he can get him flustered in another context.
This new position is nice though, it's easy to hold onto himself and watch Eddie as he works, even if it makes the butterflies that feel just like Eddie's laugh start to mess around in his stomach whenever he looks up and their eyes momentarily meet.
The timer goes and he sighs as he stretches out, starting to feel the sweat at his armpits and behind his knees. He goes for a less defensive pose this time, tipping his head back against the back of the chair as he slides down a bit, crossing his legs at the ankles, crossing his arms over his chest.
His cock is now like, out, but it's not really front and center, this pose a good way to ease into having one of his best friends properly staring at it while he does his best to just stay still.
And it has him looking at the ceiling, so they won't look at each other while Eddie examines him. It's fine, and probably for the best if he has to make it through this whole thing without making it weird.
"How are you doing with the two minute poses?" Eddie asks, half mumbling over the sound of the pencil.
"S'alright," Steve mumbles back, watching the way the sun shines squarely through the window onto the ceiling. "I think the five minute ones will be fine if I'm like, not too ambitious with it."
Eddie laughs under his breath, low and rough and maybe affectionate, Steve can only hope.
"Yeah, you're kind of a natural at this, huh?"
Steve grins, the compliment bursting under his ribs like delicious fruit.
"A natural at being au naturale," he says, trying not to do something stupid like giggle.
"Some people were just born to be naked," Eddie sighs, fake dismay as he flips the page. "Hold that pose even when the timer goes off, I'm not done with it."
"I think all people were born naked, Eddie," Steve says, just to tease him.
"If I didn't need this pencil I'd throw it at your face," Eddie replies, huffing. "And not me, I was born with a leather jacket on."
Steve bites his lip as he tries not to laugh at the image of a tiny little baby looking like a tough guy.
The timer goes off and he twitches, but stays where he is.
"Good, thank you," Eddie says, the praise beaming a spike of light right through him.
He really needs to start dating again soon, if this is all it takes for him to feel like, legitimately rewarded.
He's not sure how much time stretches by but his neck is starting to feel sore when Eddie tells him he can move.
"I'm gonna stretch, hold on," he says, getting to his feet.
A glance at Eddie shows dark eyes watching him even now, the flush on his face climbing down his jaw to his neck. It should look bad, it's splotchy and uneven, but really all it does is remind Steve of hickies and some of the girls he's gone out with.
Stretching feels nice, and eases him a couple steps further into the inevitability of being fully exposed, open for his friend. He just has to remember to stay professional, even though this is totally amateur hour no matter what a natural he is.
Eddie looks both more comfortable and restless, fully committed to slouching into his pillows with his knees up, bracing the sketchbook against them, but also he keeps shifting around like something hurts and Steve has to fight to keep his mouth shut about it.
He's probably not going to want painkillers when he's trying to be all sharp minded and eagle-eyed.
"Want to do some quick ones? It'll keep you moving for a few minutes," Eddie says, needing to clear his throat as he talks.
"Sure, lemme see if I can get creative or something," Steve says, going back to the chair.
Might as well have fun with it.
He bends and puts his hands on the seat, his legs together and his ass out, giving Eddie another profile view as he looks up at the wall. He's sure his cock is hanging down, but if he's able to stay completely soft then it won't be a big deal.
Eddie's silence is loaded, but he doesn't get time to chew on the reason for it, the timer going off quicker than he expected and now he has to come up with another pose.
He gets on the chair, facing the back of it, holding on as he sits on his calves. This one already hurts, the edge of the chair digging into the tops of his feet, but it's like, thirty seconds. He can take it. The blanket helps a little bit anyway.
The loaded feeling is still there, and Steve wonders if Eddie is just rushing to beat the clock. Probably, there's no way he thinks Steve's poses are so dumb that he can make the air feel like it's judging him. The professional art models probably do dumb poses all the time, lots of awkward positions to really test the artists and their understanding of like, shapes and shit.
The time goes off and he sighs in relief, climbing off the chair as he tries to come up with something really awkward.
He finds himself laughing as he puts a foot on the chair, grabbing his ankle with his hands as he puts his face down by his knee. It's a stretch, it's definitely precarious with his other leg trying to keep his lateral balance, but he's able to glance at Eddie and see half of his grin, the other half behind his sketchbook.
"Yeah, I'd say that's creative," Eddie says, a smirk in his voice.
"Think I'm ready for the big leagues?" Steve asks, smirking right back at him.
He can never resist meeting Eddie where he's at these days.
"Oh shit," Eddie says, looking up at him. "I should've had you bring your bat!"
Oh God.
Not the nailbat, not while he's naked and that thing is covered in old viscera still.
"Got a stick or something? We can pretend."
Eddie's eyes sparkle at him and yeah, okay, maybe he would've brought the fucking nailbat. Would've spent an hour hosing it off and scrubbing it with bleach so he felt fine bringing it into Eddie's room.
The timer goes off and he stands up properly, getting his balance back.
"You can use my cane," he says, tipping his chin over to the corner by bed.
Steve goes and gets it, catches Eddie's eyes following him in his peripheral the whole time, even when he's right beside him. And he's definitely looking at his cock, so Steve very carefully doesn't look in his direction at all, just takes the cane back over to the chair and sits.
He spreads his knees, the butterflies in his stomach melting under the force of the knowledge that Eddie's so willing to just watch him whether he's officially posing or not. He puts the end of the cane on the floor, holding the top and leaning forward on it, chin on his hands.
Eddie nods in approval and sets the timer, winding it back further than he had before.
"Five minutes sound good?" He asks, already holding his pencil out.
"Yeah, that should be fine," Steve says, letting his eyes close.
He'll take a break from Eddie's eyes for a few minutes, tries to focus on things that get his heart to slow down, things that are boring enough that his cock stays asleep.
It's difficult, he's never even really had a woman look at him this long before. Like sure, sex and blowjobs sometimes lasted for an hour or so, depending on their stamina, but he's never just sat naked and open for someone before.
And he'd expected to hate this, to feel like an amateurish piece of meat, but Eddie's both so casual about it and seems to never fucking take his eyes off of him—seems happy with what he's doing so far.
So of course doing a good job at being naked for someone is kind of getting to him.
Especially when it's Eddie, his new best friend who he knows is into guys because they had that drunk conversation where Eddie came out in the middle of saying a bunch of other shit, one he remembers crystal clear while Eddie acts like it never happened.
Eddie who he's got spiky little butterflies for.
He starts trying to do long division in his head. It works well enough, even if he knows the answers probably aren't correct, since he can't keep all of the numbers straight without writing them down.
"Lemme know if you need to move," Eddie says, voice soft and quiet like he's trying not to wake him up.
Maybe it does look like he's falling asleep, but the pose is just enough of a strain on his back that he wouldn't be able to. Besides, he's got math problems to do.
"I'm good," he says, not even trying to resist the urge to open his eyes and look up at Eddie.
Is it possible that Eddie's face is even redder? It's like the spaces between the red splotches have gone pink, and he wonders if he should tell him to turn the heat down, or like, take his flannel off. He doesn't want to point it out though, because even if he's worried about Eddie overheating, he likes seeing him like this. Blood in his face, alive, warm. Big brown eyes, long eyelashes, his eyebrows a kind of delicate frame underneath his bangs.
Eddie shifts around where he's sitting and clenches his teeth on a groan, sounding so much like he's holding back a moan that Steve forgets about all of his injuries for a second.
Why would he even be moaning in the first place?
"You okay? Need something?" He asks, and Eddie gives him a startled look, caught out.
"Nah, I'm good," he says, failing so hard at casual he loops right back around to sounding panicked.
"Right," Steve says, frowning. "I'm going to pretend I believe you, but you know you can take a break too, right?"
Eddie's neck gets pinker to match his face and the butterflies swarm around Steve's heart too.
"I swear on every tape I own that I'm fine," Eddie says, rolling his eyes as if he can fool Steve.
"Sure," he replies, giving him a tiny little shrug.
He drops the subject, but only because Eddie clearly wants to dig a hole for himself and that's like, his right, despite it being stupid. He could take a Tylenol or something, doesn't have to be the painkillers that make him fuzzy. Steve could also go grab him an ice pack or a hot water bottle or even a glass of water, if he didn't feel up to moving.
Not unless he actually asks for it though.
He closes his eyes, trying not to feel rejected because Eddie wants to be stubborn. Steve knows he has a problem with needing something or someone to take care of, and maybe Eddie just wants to pretend like he's having a normal fucking day for once. He can't blame him, hell, that's a big part of why he even agreed to pose for him to begin with, he wanted him to be able to do something normal.
The timer goes off shortly after that, and he tries to shove the butterflies down as he stands, already knowing his next pose.
He turns to the side and holds the cane up like a baseball bat on his shoulder, like he's about to walk to the plate.
It stretches him out, gives him nothing to hide behind again, but the sparkle is back in Eddie's eyes as he appraises him.
"Perfect," he murmurs, flipping the page on his sketchbook. "That's perfect."
Steve worries for a second that the praise is what will finally break through the barrier he's been fighting to keep up, but he focuses on how the sun hits the window and thinks about how many times he can fit 3 into the number 106, the frenzy inside of his chest be damned.
He only glances at Eddie a few times, just whenever he moves around, watching him out of the corner of his eye as he finally takes off his flannel, leaving his arms bare for Steve to admire. He's starting to gain his muscle back, filling out just a bit as physio has him doing more than just range of motion exercises now. It takes a worry that feels a million years old and settles it down into something he can carry, as long as he's still able to help take Eddie to appointments or just be there as back up in general.
Eddie's been improving and everything will be fine, eventually. Steve doesn't think he'll ever really... back off, he'll just worry less. He'll just notice things like if Eddie's hungry or something, instead of if he's in pain.
He really just wants his friends to be okay. And Robin scoffs at him half the time he tries to do something to take care of her, so like, he really does have this energy to expend on someone. He's trying really really hard not to be too much, here.
"Hey, can you twist your shoulders to the left a little bit?" Eddie asks, trying to clear the rasp out of his throat.
Steve shoves down the urge to go and get him a glass of water.
"Yeah," he says, shifting his pose. "Like this?"
"Little more."
Eddie's voice is rough, like he just woke up or something. Or something.
He twists a little further, now facing too far away from him to look at him.
"Perfect, good," Eddie says, in his rough morning voice, and Steve's dick gives one hard jerk before he starts counting backwards in 7s from 300. "Is that comfortable enough to hold?"
"Yeah, it's alright," Steve says, staring hard at one of Eddie's posters.
He hopes Eddie had been looking at his face or something.
Though it makes him curious, do the dudes who do this struggle to keep their cocks soft? Or do they see it as a regular job that doesn't turn them on at all, even if there's like, hot people in the class looking at them?
Or maybe they get hard and that's fine? There's no way that ever single person who does this doesn't get turned on by it, like, Steve's not even an exhibitionist but it's getting to him more the longer it goes on. Maybe people get more comfortable and relax and let themselves enjoy it the more they do it, instead of worrying about whether the hot guy with the molten eyes is going to notice their blood going to the wrong places.
Between counting and being genuinely curious about what the professionals do, he manages to distract himself from how he swears he can physically feel Eddie's eyes on him by now, as if he's disturbing the air around Steve's skin by sheer force of will.
The timer goes off and he relaxes, setting the cane down in front of him so he can have the excuse to hide behind his hands a little bit.
"I'm thinking two more long poses and we'll be done?" Eddie asks, looking up at him as he flips the page.
"Sure," Steve says, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. "Lemme put this back."
He goes to set the cane back where it was, this time freely looking at Eddie and seeing him look... panicked? Or something? As he draws his knees up to his chest.
He can't be hiding his sketchbook, he just flipped to a new page.
Steve squints at him, trying to figure him out, watching as Eddie fails hard at trying to act casual.
His red face, his shifting around, his insistence that he's fine... not wanting Steve to come over and see what? His stomach? His crotch? From beside the bed.
"Oh my God," he whispers, huffing out a laugh.
Eddie looks up at him, mouth dropping open to defend himself, but Steve shakes his head, feeling a little giddy.
"Do you always get hard when you do this?" He asks, instantly deciding that this is one of those times that they're going to have to be brutally honest with each other.
Not that it'll be like, painful he hopes, not in the way that some people think brutal honesty is. But he and Eddie both like to strong-arm each other through awkward conversations that need to happen. And Steve's decided this is going to be one of them.
"No!" Eddie hisses, glaring at him. "And I'm not hard right now!"
Steve raises his eyebrows, cocking his hip to the side as he puts his hands on them, drawing Eddie's attention and oh, right. It might be weird to have his dick like a foot away from Eddie's face.
"Okay, first of all. Don't be a liar," he says, heading back to the chair. "Second of all, I'm glad you're not in as much pain as it seemed like you were."
Eddie keeps glaring even as his posture softens, less defensive.
"I'll lie freely as often as I want, actually," he mutters, picking up the egg timer. "And uh, good? I guess?"
Steve rolls his eyes at him, crossing his arms.
"Fine, I'll be the brave one here," he says, sitting down, trying out a casual but interesting enough pose, with his ankle crossed over his knee. "I've been doing fucking long division in my head just so I didn't get a boner this whole time."
Eddie's eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide as he looks down where Steve's cock must be resting between his thighs.
"Long division is powerful," he says, forgetting about arguing. "And it'd be fine if you got hard, it happens all the time."
Steve nods, considering it. That answers that question, then.
"Okay, you could've told me that. I did all that math for nothing," he sighs.
Eddie scoffs, gesturing at him vaguely, for what Steve's not sure.
"That would've gone over well. Yeah Steve, just come strip for me all alone in my bedroom so I can draw you, it's totally fine if you get an erection, this is all normal. An activity that friends do!" He says, rolling his eyes. "A regular fucking Tuesday!"
Steve frowns a little, shrugging. Eddie does have a point, he'd be worried about bringing that up too.
"Pretty sure today is Wednesday, dude," he says, watching the glare settle back onto Eddie's face.
It's kind of gratifying, even though maybe it shouldn't make him happy to get him a little pissed off like this.
"Anyway, why am I allowed to get a boner but you're not?" He asks, uncrossing his arms.
Eddie hasn't started drawing yet, so he runs his fingers through his hair for something to play with.
"Because that's weird? Like, being naked in front of people is obviously going to make some people get horny, that's normal, but don't you think it's creepy if the person staring at the professional model is getting horny over it?"
"Uh, no? There's a whole industry around looking at naked people to get horny," Steve says, trying not to laugh.
He understands that Eddie feels guilty or whatever, but he just feels...
He feels really good about it. About Eddie being into this.
"Yeah but someone posing for art isn't signing up to be someone's fucking skin mag, Steve," Eddie argues, jabbing his pencil in the air.
"If they can accept that models are allowed to get horny, they can accept that artists can too. It's not like you're waving your dick in anyone's face, everyone acts professionally right?"
Eddie's silent as he considers him, face somehow getting even redder.
"Yes," he says, letting his head fall backwards into the pillows. "And I wear a long shirt to every one of those fucking classes so nobody will notice."
Steve officially gives up on staying soft, delighted and also so fucking into the idea of Eddie desperately trying to hide a boner in a room full of people. Into the idea that he has to plan around it, because he like, has a thing for this.
"So do you get turned on by everyone, or is it just certain models?" He asks, shifting in the chair.
Eddie sighs like Steve had just asked him to go run laps around the neighborhood.
"It's most of them, yeah. Even the ones I'm not actually attracted to," he says, sounding like the information is being squeezed out of him. "It's just the situation, I think."
Huh.
"It's just like, looking at them then? Looking at them and studying them?"
Eddie swallows, and Steve watches his throat move. Hot.
"Yeah. I don't know what's wrong with me," he says, sitting back up properly. "I don't even want to have sex with them."
Steve bites back another laugh.
"You knew all of this and still asked me to model for you?" He asks, going for teasing and not accusation.
Eddie groans, covering his face with his hands.
"I thought I'd be okay, because I thought the public nudity was what got to me," he says.
Another piece of information that Steve feels fucking blessed to have.
"Right, well. I thought I'd end up hating this, but you know. Clearly with the whole boner thing, I'm not. So if we can be cool about that, I can be cool about your thing."
Eddie drops his hands, nodding slowly as he stares hard at the blank page in front of him.
"It's not weird?" He asks.
"Not unless you want it to be," Steve says, smirking at the way Eddie's eyes snap up to look at him, shocked.
"Don't fucking test me," he says, tapping his pencil against the top of the sketchbook.
Steve thinks for a minute, about how he knows that Eddie's pent up, hasn't been able to have sex in months and probably hasn't been able to jerk off properly either. It makes him feel a little sad, like he could've been helping him out this whole time, not even because he wants to take care of him, but because he wants to touch his cock and watch him cum.
He wonders if telling him that would go over very well.
"Alright," he says, dropping his leg, spreading his knees out wide. "Start the timer then."
He wraps a hand around his cock, leaning back as comfortably as he can in the chair, bringing his other hand down to cup his balls. It'll be a challenge, keeping his fucking hands frozen, but the way Eddie's jaw drops open and his eyelids flutter for a moment makes it worth it.
He'll take five minutes of suffering if it means making Eddie look like that.
Eddie drops the timer twice before he manages to set it, blinking hard a few times as he picks up his pencil.
His silence is loaded again, and Steve understands now. Eddie wasn't judging him earlier, he was probably just regretting his choices.
"Fucking unbelievable," Eddie mutters, harsh and under his breath.
Steve presses his lips together, failing to hold back a smile, the butterflies going absolutely wild in his stomach now. He thinks they're having a party, maybe popping some champagne, or like, if they're Eddie's butterflies, maybe doing that cool trick he can do with his lighter where he opens a beer with it.
Drunk butterflies and all, he wants to go over there and get his hands on Eddie, but he's enjoying this in the meantime.
Every time Eddie looks at him his eyes shoot to his cock, where Steve will deliberately squeeze, sometimes letting a quiet moan come out. It feels almost as good as the sound that Eddie makes in response, his breath stuttering or a choked groan.
It feels like the time had just started when the timer dings, but now that Steve can move, he pumps his cock a few times, sighing in relief at the pressure.
"One more pose, pretty boy," Eddie says, glaring at him again. "Then you're free to get dressed and get out of my house."
Steve smirks at him, considering his options. It's the last pose, he has to make it good.
He gets up, stretching out his back even though he doesn't need it, just wants to watch how Eddie's eyes follow the movement of his body.
"How about..." he goes to stand at the foot of the bed. "Two more poses? You draw the first one."
Eddie's eyebrows furrow as he looks up at him, wary.
"Then you jerk off until the timer goes off for the second one."
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching at he stares at him.
"How are you this fucking evil? Jock magic? Is it all the hairspray?" He gives an exasperated laugh, throwing his hands in the air.
"So, that's a yes?" Steve asks as he kneels on the bed.
"Of course it's a fucking yes, asshole," Eddie replies, picking up his pencil. "Get in position."
"Yessir," he says, laying out on his side.
The bed is just wide enough for him to prop his arm up on his elbow, holding his head in place as he finds a comfortable position for his legs, letting them hang off the side.
"This sexy enough for you?"
Eddie starts the timer, giving him a hard stare.
"The whole thing has been sexy enough for me, that's the fucking problem," he says, glaring. "How are you this fucking annoying even when my dick is this hard?"
Steve's careful not to move when he laughs, kind of sad that Eddie's shins are still blocking his view of his crotch. He'd love to see what that looks like in his sweatpants right now.
"You must be under a lot of pressure," he says, smirking up at him. "Your temper is short."
Eddie bites back a comeback that was either too stupid or too nasty, making a displeased sound in the back of his throat.
"You're the worst person I've ever met," he says, finally starting to sketch.
"Eh, you make it easy."
Eddie doesn't respond, his focus on getting quick and sharp lines right taking over his insatiable need to argue. Steve knows he'll have to make sure he's not actually like, really pissed off at him, but that's a problem for later, unless Eddie kicks him out before they actually get to the last pose.
He hopes not, his cock is so hard that it's going to start leaking soon, and he needs to see Eddie get off, even if he doesn't get to touch him. He wonders if Eddie would be up for a blowjob, considering that'd be another new thing Steve would be trying today.
The timer goes off just as Steve is starting to feel restless, and he sighs, giving his cock another few pumps to try to appease himself. He's not sure that this is actually any easier than trying to stay soft while posing.
"Fuck," he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the head a few times before he pulls his hand away, standing up on his knees.
Eddie's staring at him, his wide eyes glazed as he flips the page without looking, tossing the sketchbook on the floor beside the bed. The pencil follows, and he picks up the timer.
"You sure?" He asks, like Steve's cock isn't literally standing up against his stomach right now.
"Yeah, are you?"
Of course he's gonna ask it right back.
"Yeah, shit," Eddie says, taking the flannel from his lap to toss that on the floor too. "Five minutes, or?"
"Five's good," Steve says, finally able to see where Eddie's cock is tenting his sweatpants.
"I don't know if I'll finish," Eddie says, slow and careful as he pulls his sweats down far enough to let his cock spring out. "I have to take a lot of breaks."
Steve wonders if they can skip this idea, hot as it is, so he can just put his mouth on him right now. Eddie wouldn't need to take breaks then either.
He swallows, looking up to meet Eddie's eyes, seeing the tension in his jaw, around his eyebrows.
"It's not like you have to stop after the timer goes off, I'm just going to stop posing and like, start jerking off too."
Eddie sighs, his shoulders relaxing.
"Okay, we can do that. Just don't be disappointed if I can't continue."
Steve wants to take his face in his hands and kiss him for like, a year. Until he stops worrying so much.
"I just want you to have a nice time," he says, shifting closer so he has room to lay sideways again, this time on his back, his legs folded under him so his hips are pushed up off of the bed.
Eddie's breath catches and he looks up at him, putting his arms behind his head.
"Is that why you've been tormenting me this whole time?" Eddie asks, dropping the timer as soon as he starts it, getting a hand around his cock.
"Not the whole time," Steve says, giving into the way his hips roll up into the air, seeking some kind of friction. "I only started tormenting you very recently."
Eddie scoffs, working himself over slowly and deliberately, hitting spots that Steve takes note of, like the spot where the bottom of his head meets his foreskin. He wants to put his tongue on it, feel the connection there.
"On purpose, you mean."
Steve grins, his hands curling into fists as he tries to hold still.
"Any other torment is your own fault," he says, looking up to meet his eyes. "You're the one who got me naked and had me hold still while you got to look at me anywhere you wanted."
"Yeah," Eddie gasps, his hand going a bit faster, grip getting tighter. "I should've taken advantage of that, could've ordered you around just so I had something pretty to look at."
Steve moans, thinks that if he was going to feel objectified now would be the time, but he thinks he really likes this, especially now that they've crossed the line from normal people shit into pornographic shit. Yeah, he'll be Eddie's eye candy, since he gets off on looking at him so much.
"You still can," he says, feeling pre-cum start to pool on his skin.
"Spread your legs more, then," Eddie says with effort.
Steve shifts around until his legs are open wider, his balls hanging in the space between his thighs as his cock continues to throb, laying flat on his lower stomach.
"Anything else?" He asks, but it's lost in Eddie's moan as he tosses his head back.
He watches as Eddie grips his thigh with his free hand, and then he's coming, thrusting up into his hand as he works himself, panting gasps that drive Steve fucking crazy for a second as he takes it all in.
He thinks he could orgasm just from watching him, a wave of hot satisfaction crashing through him as Eddie pumps more and more cum out of himself. He doesn't care how much time is left, he gets a hand on his cock and starts to jerk off, riding the wave each time it crashes into a new one until he's got Eddie's tired attention on him.
"Fuck Steve," Eddie says, catching his breath. "You gonna cum for me?"
That does it, easily. Anything would have, really.
Steve's arching up high off of the bed as his eyes squeeze shut, his body taut and tense as cum explodes out of his cock, painting him all the way up to his chin. It's fucking amazing, feels so sharp and sweet as he eases his way back down on the bed, still working himself over until he hits a wall of overstimulation.
His strings are cut and he's laying there, getting his legs out from underneath himself, feeling a little bit high as he cracks his eyes open to see what Eddie's up to.
Eddie's just staring at him, biting on one of his knuckles, his other hand tangled up in the bedding. He's still hard, or he's hard again, and Steve wants to make sure he gets all of the orgasms he's missed out on. Thinks he could learn how to suck cock so well that it takes no time at all, just so he can get Eddie off like five times a day if he wants.
"Fuck, I like you so much," he says, reaching out towards him with his clean hand.
Eddie takes the knuckle out of his mouth and brings his hand down to Steve's, letting their fingers brush. It's not the first time they've touched today, but it feels brand new anyway, Eddie making their hands fold together neatly like a human puzzle.
"I like you too," he says, dazed. "Against my better judgment, of course."
Steve grins and hides his face in his arm, exhausted and so fucking satisfied.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. The torment's gonna continue."
Eddie squeezes his hand, smiling down at him.
"Don't get used to it, once I've got my strength back I'm going to get my revenge," he says, and Steve sighs, relieved.
"I can't fucking wait."