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American Beauty

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Since the end of high school, Steve had been coasting a fine line between present and not. His life felt like it was a rollercoaster that he didn’t have safety bars for, wholly and totally unprepared for the dips and twists of the most dangerous ride of his life. First, it was the Demogorgon, then it was the Demodogs, then it was a secret fucking Russian base where he got the shit kicked out of him-

It had been a long few years. His nightmares were terrible, paranoia even worse. Hell, Steve was lucky if he managed to rest for even an hour a night. It was exhausting. 

But he was fine, okay? Just because he couldn’t go in elevators anymore, or that the doctors said one more hit to the head could result in memory loss, or that he brought his stupid fucking nail-bat everywhere he went, didn’t mean that he wasn’t recovering. He was, just…in his own time. The kids needed him, anyway, so it wasn’t like Steve could very well lock himself away in his house like he so desperately wanted to, hiding himself away so that no one would see how hard it was for him to keep his patented Harrington smile on his face for more than 30 seconds. 

It was also just downright embarrassing, still feeling like this. Most of the rest of the group (“the Party, Steve, it’s not that hard to say!”) had already moved on, the younger kids starting high school while the older members moved on to their senior year. They had all had to move on, there only having been less than a month in between what happened at Starcourt (and hadn’t that been wild? Steve had only found out after the fact that they had gotten seriously close to losing more than one friend, and his heart still ached for El, who had been convinced her father had died before they found him a little ways away from the blast radius of the Russian machine) and the start of school. The kids had been forced to grow up too fast, yet again, and the others had to shake it off and get back to the real world. 

Steve had gotten a new job at the Family Video with Robin, but the girl still had to go back to school, so it was just him manning the lonely store more often than not. He became very friendly with the rewind device and the remote that controlled the tiny, grainy TV that hung above the counter. He mainly worked the opening and closing shifts, knowing that he didn’t get much sleep anyway. It was in the middle of the day–when there was still light in his cold and empty room, and he didn’t have to worry about what went bump in the night–where he would get the most rest. There was a certain safety in those soft hours of midday, when his house felt a little less cold without his parents, or—in the event that they were home—when his father was out working and his mother was too, busy smooth-talking all the politicians in Hawkins. 

Steve could admit that it wasn’t the healthiest of schedules, but it worked for him. It gave him the time he needed in the morning to be able to drop off Robin (and sometimes Dustin) at school before his morning shift, and all the time he needed to pick up the kids from their nerd club after hours. He ignored the worried looks that Robin would send him, ignored Dustin’s prodding questions when he would knock on the window of the Beemer and shock Steve awake from where he would often fall asleep at the wheel while waiting for the younger boy to exit the school. 

It worked for him. For a long time, anyway. 

The more time went on (it was nearing spring break, now), the less he let his friends see it. They just all kept getting better, while he still felt like his life was falling apart. Steve couldn’t bear to see their creased eyebrows, their concerned eyes. So he got better at hiding it. Got better at convincing himself that his schedule was just an unconventional method of living. People did weird shit all the time. Steve would have to just resign himself to the fact that that was his life, now. Stay up all night, take Robin to school, work until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, fall asleep in the broad daylight, scream himself awake, pick up Dustin–rinse and repeat. No one had to know.

Fake it ‘till you make it, Harrington. You’ve been doing it your whole life. 

 

There was a laundry list of people that Steve could’ve put together who would’ve eventually called him out on his bullshit. Robin, definitely. Dustin, absolutely. Fuck, even Mike Wheeler was more of a likely candidate than Eddie fucking Munson. 

Don’t get Steve wrong, he and Eddie had become–well, friends wasn’t the word, but they had definitely passed the slightly jealous of each other phase. After forced exposure to the man due to the kids, as well as none-too-gentle urging from Dustin to make a “friend that was actually his age,” Steve had sat in on one of their D&D games, and their tolerance for each other started there. Eddie’s teasing had even turned from sharp, cutting jabs, to friendly banter, managing to rope Steve into joking back and forth with him. 

After a time, Steve had started to notice things about Eddie that he had never let himself think of before he had met Robin. After his best friend had come out to him, they had had many conversations about ‘gay stuff’ (as Robin called it), Steve open and willing to learn about a community that he, when he was younger and so, so stupid, had openly detested. He had changed since high school, and Robin was more than willing to expand Steve’s limited knowledge on all types of issues that he had never even thought about before. Through those conversations, Steve had actually come into his own, finding the label bisexual and actually managing to not run for the hills at the prospect that he wasn’t as straight as he thought he was. She helped him realize that it, in fact, wasn’t in the norm for a guy to find himself staring at guys’ chests in the locker rooms, or at their long legs and firm muscles at swim meets. And, most importantly, she had helped him to understand that it was completely and utterly okay for him to appreciate both. For him to like both. 

So sue him, but Steve found that he very much appreciated Eddie Munson. Would find himself staring at plush, pink lips and big, doe eyes. At wide, ringed hands, and the way that Eddie was ever so slightly taller than him. Steve had often found himself hanging off of every word the man said when he was fabricating wild stories, ensnared by the way that Eddie was completely and unapologetically himself. 

But he kept it to himself. Of course he did. Eddie was utterly out of Steve’s reach in every sense of the word. Not only was he straight, but Steve had also been a dick to him in high school. Sure, they could poke fun at each other and sometimes even work together to gang up and tease the kids, but they weren’t friends. Steve doubted Eddie liked him very much. The taller man would sometimes give Steve these looks. Looks that Steve was sure meant that Eddie was dissecting him piece by piece, boring into his soul and stripping him apart until he could see Steve’s bones. His brown eyes would be dark and intense, and Steve was helpless to try and get a read on the guy. He wished he had El’s freaky mind-reading powers, if only to understand what those fucking looks meant. 

Steve tried to keep his distance. Tried to not make it obvious. Though he knew Eddie was a secret sweetheart, it didn’t mean that he was above punching Steve in the face if he found out what Steve thought about when he was alone in his room, hands down his pants and shirt clenched between his teeth to keep his pathetic noises quiet. 

 

So when Eddie had pulled him aside one night while the kids were packing up after a long campaign, Steve was sure he was caught. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet the older man’s eyes. 

“Why do you look like I just killed your dog, dude?” Eddie’s voice sounded, quieter than Steve thought it would be. 

“Just…whatever it is, can you not do it in front of the kids? I don’t think they’d appreciate seeing your knuckles get ruined when you punch me in the face, man. Course, they wouldn’t give a shit about me, the little shits-” Steve started to ramble, trying to delay what was sure to be a completely mortifying conversation. 

“What? Steve, I’m not gonna punch you, what the fuck?” Eddie responded, sounding genuinely shocked by Steve’s words. Steve winced. So it was going to be a nice and gentle ‘it’s not you’ rejection, huh? Steve could only bring himself to shrug, still not meeting Eddie’s eyes, worried that if he looked, he would never be able to tear his gaze away. “Steve,” Eddie’s voice was, somehow, even gentler than before, a nice, low rumble that had Steve’s knees feeling slightly weak at hearing his name in that tone, “Why do you think I’m going to punch you?” 

Did Eddie really not know? Did Steve work himself up over nothing, again? 

He consciously worked to loosen up, slipping the mask he was so used to wearing nowadays back into place. “Uh, no reason, man. What did you wanna talk about?” he deflected, sticking his hands into his pockets to appear more casual. 

Eddie studied him for a moment, but evidently decided to drop it. Steve had to force himself to not let out a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word just to let Steve know that while he was dropping it right then, he knew that Steve was hiding something. “I just wanted to invite you to my trailer tonight. I’ve got a friend coming over, and we’re gonna smoke.” Steve finally looked at him then, surprised by Eddie’s willingness to hang out with him outside of taking care of the kids. Eddie caught the look and sighed before he continued, “It’s just…I can see you’re not okay, man. You got bags under those puppy dog eyes of yours, and you’re always so fucking tense,” Steve’s pulse jumped at the description of his eyes, as well as the way that Eddie wiggled his fingers to gesture at how Steve was perfectly still, shoulders a hard line of tension, “I’m worried about you, Harrington, though I never thought I would ever say that in my fucking life. You deserve to unwind, to just relax for once. So come by the trailer park at 9, okay? Let someone else take care of you for once.” 

Steve felt himself shiver at the words, paired with Eddie’s low timbre. He flushed red at the motion, and ducked his head down both to avoid Eddie’s piercing gaze and to also think the taller’s offer over. On one hand, it would be really fucking nice to just smoke his worries away, even if it was for one night. On the other hand, he would be virtually alone with Eddie Munson, the man he had a stupid, school-girl crush on. Not to mention whatever ‘friend’ Eddie said was going to be there, too, someone he had probably never met before and would most definitely embarrass himself in front of. 

But. Free weed. 

“Fine. But,” he held his finger up when he noticed that Eddie’s signature wolfish grin was creeping onto his face, “if I’m going to ‘just relax for once,’ I’m going to get stoned out of my mind. No making fun of me.”

The grin was full force on Eddie’s face, then, a spark in his eyes that made Steve feel like he was helpless prey, walking into a hungry lion’s den. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Stevie.”

 

By the time Steve got to his house after dropping Dustin off, it was closing in on 8:30. Fuck, he thought to himself, what the fuck was he going to wear? He couldn’t very well show up to Eddie’s house looking like he just stepped out of a Bloomingdale’s catalog. He needed Robin.

He raced to the phone after shedding his work vest and tossed it onto the island counter that connected the kitchen to the family room, hurriedly punching in his friend’s number, knee bouncing as he waited for the line to pick up. 

“Buckley residence, Robin speaking,” her voice filtered through the phone’s shitty speakers. 

“Robin, thank God, okay. I need you to tell me what you would wear in the hypothetical situation in which you would go to smoke with Eddie Munson in his trailer in 30 minutes,” he rambled out. 

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line that had Steve’s hair standing on end. Then, Robin squealed so loud that Steve actually had to pull the phone away from his face for several seconds. 

“No fucking way! There’s no way that you scored a gay date before I did! Actually, yes, that is entirely possible, fuck you. You have to tell me everything, oh my god! What-”

“Robin!” He interrupted, face blazing. “First of all, it’s not a date. He has another friend coming over, for fuck’s sake. We’re just gonna smoke together. Second of all, need I remind you that I have to be there in 30 minutes! I swear I’ll tell you everything later, just help me!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus. But I want to know everything, Dingus. Every last detail, you understand?”

“Yes, okay, okay!”

“Good. Okay, do you know those black jeans that you’ve probably only worn once in the time you’ve owned them?” Steve nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, start with those. And then, hmm, oh! Wear that shirt that you insist is too small for you, y’know the white one.”

“What? Robin that shirt barely reaches my stomach!” he protested. 

“I know. It’ll drive Eddie crazy,” she answered simply. Steve flushed at the thought, picturing that intense look Eddie sometimes directed at him. Robin had a point. “From your silence, I’m gonna assume you understand the vision. Now, and this part is important, so listen: wear your yellow sweater over it.”

“Why-”

“I said listen! What you’re going to do is show up to the trailer wearing it, then, you’re gonna complain about it being too hot with all the smoke around. Then, you’re gonna take the sweater off and let Eddie see you in all your cropped T-shirt glory. Get it now, Dingus?” Steve could hear how smug she was with herself. But, he had to admit it was smart. It was really smart.

“Robin, you’re an evil genius,” he laughed out, “have I ever told you that I love you? Because I love you.”

She gave a laugh of her own. “I’ve heard it once or twice. Now, go! You’ve got, like, twenty minutes left!”

“Shit,” he mumbled, checking his watch to see that she was right. “You’re the best, Robin. I owe you!” He hung up to the sound of her raucous laughter. 

He raced up the stairs to his room, immediately throwing open drawers and digging through his closet to find the clothing items Robin had told him to wear. As he slipped the jeans on, he had to hop and shimmy to get them up, them being a few years old at that point. He then tugged the cropped shirt over his head, pausing to look in his mirror before he put the sweater on. 

He had to admit that he didn’t look too bad. The jeans were tight enough to accentuate his ass, and the shirt was high enough that it showed off Steve’s toned stomach. He had lost a good amount of weight since the Starcourt incident, so he didn’t have as much muscle as before, but the shirt did a good job of making his waist look alluring instead of gaunt. He pulled the sweater over his head and made sure his hair was acceptable before he scrambled down the stairs, plucking his keys from the counter and a pack of beers from the fridge, making his way out the door and to his car. 

Steve was a jumble of nerves as he made his way to the trailer park. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to act like a semi-normal person in front of Eddie when he was already getting flustered at the mental image of smoke curling out of the man’s pretty mouth. Not to mention how he had no idea who the mystery friend that was also going to be there was. What if they could sniff Steve out in an instant? Out him to Eddie as soon as he walked through the door, getting a few punches in as they did so? Steve’s hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel, his heart beating double-time as he pulled into the dark trailer park, the only light coming from the windows of the trailers, and the only noise coming from a dog barking in the distance (which did nothing to calm Steve’s nerves, kindly reminding him of his time with the Demodogs). 

He spent a solid five minutes calming himself down in his car after he pulled up next to Eddie’s unmistakable van, even though he knew that Eddie would’ve been able to hear him pull up, his BMW’s engine doing him no favors in the stealth department. 

“I can be so normal about this,” Steve whispered to himself as he triple-checked the state of his hair in the tiny rearview mirror. “I’ll charm Eddie’s socks off. I’ll get high as fuck. Then, I’ll go home. Easy.” He huffed out a breath before finally exiting his car, quickly making his way to the front door and knocking before he could chicken out. 

It was a few moments before the door creaked open, only enough for Eddie’s head to be visible. When he noticed it was Steve, he opened the door all the way with a smile. “Harrington,” he practically purred before he swept his hand behind him. “Come on in.” 

Steve couldn’t bring himself to answer when Eddie looked so fucking good in his own home, so he just shot Eddie a slightly strained smile, and stepped inside.

Only to be met with the sight of Chrissy fucking Cunningham, comfortably lounging on the couch in comfortable sleep shorts and an oversized hoodie. 

“Chrissy?” he exclaimed, surprised beyond belief to see the girl looking so at ease in Eddie’s home. 

It seemed that she didn’t share his shock, though, smiling an impish smile and raising a delicate hand, one holding a lit fucking joint, holy shit, and giving him a teasing wave. “Hi, Steve.” 

He didn’t know how to react. Chrissy Cunningham? Friends with Eddie Munson? It was such an unlikely pairing that Steve almost felt like he was in the fucking Upside Down. There was no way this was happening in the normal world. 

He felt more than heard Eddie’s voice, the man using his height as an advantage, resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and his chin on Steve’s head. “I think we broke him, Chris,” he chuckled, and Steve could just hear the shit-eating grin that he was sporting. “King Steve isn’t used to seeing our kind mix.” 

Steve huffed, slightly miffed at Eddie’s use of his old moniker. He wasn’t that guy anymore. He wasn’t stuck in the stupid hierarchy of high school popularity anymore. He had fought interdimensional monsters, for fuck’s sake. Stupid shit like popularity meant nothing after that. So he decided to just roll with it.

Shrugging out of Eddie’s grip, the places where he had been holding him tingling with electricity, he simply held up the six-pack and said, “Hey, I’m not one to judge. My best friend is a 14-year-old nerd.” 

Eddie let out a genuine laugh at that, grabbing the beers from Steve’s hand (Steve had to convince himself that he was just imagining things when it seemed like the other man’s touch lingered) and making his way to the couch, plopping down and setting the pack onto the table. After he got comfortable, his hands slid to Chrissy’s legs, pulling them into his lap, the girl completely content with the change in position, tucking herself more comfortably into the couch. 

Steve fought down the surge of jealousy that he felt at the sight, moving to sit on the floor in front of the couch due to the lack of space. When he finally looked up at the couple, he found both of their gazes already trained on him, Eddie having that intense look, while Chrissy was unreadable, joint stuck into her mouth and cheeks hollowed as she took a hefty hit. He fought back a shiver, cursing his disaster of a bisexual brain. 

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get some weed, huh?” he blurted out, the silence being too much for him to bear, tense and slightly uncomfortable. 

It, surprisingly, did the trick, the tension breaking as the other two let out small laughs, Eddie leaning over the table to roll another joint while Chrissy’s stare softened to an openly curious one. 

“What brings you here, Steve? You’ve never smoked with us before,” Chrissy asked, easily adjusting to Eddie’s new position. 

How the fuck was Steve supposed to answer that? Oh, I just psychically can’t calm down because I’ve fought monsters and actively seen people get killed in front of me. Not to mention I got tortured by Russian prison guards, and the slimy fucks had smiled while they did it. Not a chance. 

“Nuh-uh,” he decided to go with, “I have to be well and truly high for you guys to get me to trauma dump all over you.” He hoped that it came across as the joke he was aiming for it to be, and while it did for the most part, now the both of them had openly curious expressions on their faces, likely wondering what in the world King Steve could have trauma from. 

“Well, Stevie, that’s what you’re here for. Take a hit of this, big boy, and open up to your therapists for the night,” Eddie responded with a sly grin, brandishing the finished joint with a flourish as he handed it and a lighter to the younger man. Steve just rolled his eyes and he went to go reach for it, but, at the last moment, Eddie tugged it slightly out of reach. “Really, Harrington? I’m about to supply you with some nice, free weed, and you roll your eyes?” Steve felt a blush rush to his face, squirming a little where he sat at Eddie’s condescending tone. “You only get it if you ask nicely, pretty boy.”

Steve felt his brain short-circuit, the pet name ringing in his ears and playing on loop in his mind. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy. Was Eddie really going to make him beg to get the thing he had invited him over for in the first place? At the sight of Eddie’s eyebrows raised imploringly, Steve hazarded the answer to that was yes. Fuck. 

Steve involuntarily licked his lips before he responded, “Please.” 

Eddie grinned his wolfish grin. “Please, what?”

Steve bit off his instinctual response, which was to call Eddie a name that would get him a mouthful of knuckle. He cleared his throat as his gaze flickered to Chrissy, who was watching the exchange with rapt attention. Steve burned. “Please, Eddie, can I have the joint?” he was impressed by his ability to keep his voice even, even though he knew his face was probably a mortifying shade of red. “Please.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened, then, a trick of the light that made Steve’s head spin. “There we go. That wasn’t too hard, was it?” 

“Good boy,” Chrissy added, teasing. Steve snatched the joint from Eddie and looked down, letting his hair hide his face as he took a quick moment to recover. The phrase ripped its way through Steve, racing down his spine and making something curl in his gut. He brought the joint up to his lips to give his hands something to do, lifting the lighter to start the thing. He sucked at the filter as the flame met the twisted end, smiling in satisfaction as smoke started to curl from the tip, signifying a successful light. He pulled it away from his face as he finally pulled the smoke into his lungs, eyes fluttering shut at the burning sensation. He held the smoke for as long as he could handle before he tipped his head to the ceiling, keeping his eyes closed as he let the smoke spill from his mouth, a steady stream that left him licking his lips to savor the taste. 

He heard a muttered, “Jesus H. Christ,” and lowered his face, eyes cracking open and landing on the sight before him. Eddie’s head was slung back on the back of the couch, hands clutching Chrissy’s legs where they were resting on his lap. Chrissy’s eyes were trained on Steve, dark and intense, while what looked like a smug smile rested on her face. Steve just blinked in confusion, head tilting as he brought the joint back to his lips, taking another hit and letting out a contented hum as he felt the burn once more. He decided not to comment, too confused to even try and form a response. 

“So,” he decided on bringing up a topic that would take the attention off of him (and it was on him, he knew he wasn’t imagining that. He just didn’t know why.), “Chrissy, when did you turn to the dark side?” 

The girl let out a laugh at that and God, was it pretty. Steve had known her in high school, her only being one grade below him despite them being around the same age, but only superficially. He knew her only as a preppy cheerleader, as Jason Carver’s arm candy. Steve was pleasantly surprised by her, though, eager to learn how she had met Eddie and became…whatever they were to each other. 

“Well, my mom’s a bitch. And Jason’s a bastard. I was very much not happy,” she took another hit before continuing, reaching over and placing it in Eddie’s (who had brought his head back up to watch the conversation in amusement) mouth. “Eddie caught onto that pretty easily. He offered to sell me some bud, but, after we both realized I had fuck all to smoke it with, he invited me over to smoke with him, free of charge.” She had a charming smile on her face as she recalled the memory, gaze soft and trained on Eddie. “Don’t get me wrong, I was scared out of my fucking mind. The cheerleading captain caught with the town freak? It would’ve been the biggest scandal since King Steve’s fall from grace.” 

Steve let out an involuntary laugh. “Yeah, I can imagine. And let me just say? It’s not fun.”

Chrissy nodded and went on, “Definitely. But, Eddie helped me realize a lot about myself. Like how Jason is the biggest dickwad of the century, and how food is a necessity, not a privilege.” It stole Steve’s breath away, how easily Chrissy volunteered information about herself. “So I broke up with Jason, made a whole spectacle of it, too.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, talking around the joint in his mouth. “Oh my God! Steve, you shoulda seen it. The Queen herself kicked Carver right in the balls. It was glorious.” 

Chrissy full belly laughed at the memory. “I had never felt more powerful in my life. It gave me the courage to stand up to my mom, too. She was the one telling me that I wasn’t skinny enough, wasn’t pretty enough. I told her to fuck off and let me live my life. I was grounded for a month after.” 

Steve felt a warm smile curl onto his face, the beginnings of the weed starting to loosen his limbs, even if he didn’t feel it in his brain yet. Chrissy Cunningham was brave as fuck. Steve couldn’t help but admire her. 

“That’s awesome, Chrissy,” Steve responded genuinely, letting his legs uncross from under him and leaning back on the hand that wasn’t holding the rapidly depleting joint. 

“Ugh, finally!” Eddie’s voice made him jump, not expecting the outburst. At Steve’s confused look, Eddie continued, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you relax since I’ve met you, big boy. It’s a good look on you.” Steve’s eyes widened at the compliment, head immediately ducking down to hide his face. It didn’t mean anything, Steve firmly reminded himself. Eddie was with Chrissy. He was just comfortable in his sexuality, comfortable in his relationship. He was not hitting on Steve. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Steve mumbled back, bringing the joint to his mouth once more. Swiftly moving the conversation along, he asked, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “So you’ve been together ever since?” 

They both started laughing at that, and Steve was once again struck with confusion, wondering what about what he said was so funny. “What?” he asked. 

Eddie calmed down enough to answer. “It wasn’t quite that simple, sweetheart, and it’s a long story, but yeah basically.” Those fucking names were gonna be the death of him. Write it on his tombstone: Here lies Steve Harrington, dead after Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham gave him heart-attack-inducing amounts of blue balls.  

“So?” he shot back, “We’ve got all night. Never a better time for a long story.” 

Eddie just met his eyes with an amused huff, “Maybe next time. The short version is that Chrissy helped me realize I wasn’t as gay as I thought I was, and I made her realize that it wasn’t customary for the guy to not even attempt to get the girl to finish.” 

Steve felt his whole body flush. Images raced through his mind: Eddie’s head clamped between Chrissy’s thighs, her hands clawed in his long hair and shoving his face further into her. Chrissy with her pretty, glossy lips parted on a silent moan, Eddie with his ringed fingers holding her down with just enough force to leave bruises-

“Steve?” Chrissy’s voice shocked him from his thoughts. She looked closed off as she asked, “Is that going to be a problem?” 

Steve blanched, racking his brain to try and figure out what she was talking about. 

Chrissy helped me realize I wasn’t as gay as I thought I was. 

 

Oh.

Oh. 

 

Steve rushed to answer, burying all of his hope and joy deep down. “Of course not! God, guys I’m not a dick anymore!” The tension visibly bled from both of them, relief palpable in the room. Steve’s mind raced. Eddie was queer. And Chrissy was okay with it. Holy shit. 

He licked his lips before he blurted out, “Plus-” but he cut himself off, tongue flicking out again, curling over his lip and sucking it into his mouth, teeth catching and digging into the delicate flesh. “Nevermind,” he rushed out, “Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here.” Sorry, Robin, he thought. Clearly, there was no point to her plan, and Steve felt like fire was dancing on his skin. He carefully rested the joint on the edge of the ashtray and brought himself to his knees. He quickly brought his hands to the back of his neck, hooking his fingers into the soft fabric of his sweater and working it over the back of his head, tugging it off and pulling his arms from the sleeves. He tossed it to where he had left his shoes near the front door, the distance not far, and then brought both his hands to run through his hair, attempting to tame whatever mess taking the sweater off must have made out of his carefully styled locks. When he looked down, Steve was reminded of the shirt he was wearing, lowering his hands to the hem of it and tugging it down as far as it was willing to go before it bounced back to where it had been resting before. 

Without looking at the other two, still too embarrassed, he shuffled on the carpet to get closer to the table, resting on it with his forearms and sitting back on his legs, still kneeling. He fumbled to relight the joint, taking such a long hit that there was nothing left to smoke. He closed his eyes on the exhale, and when he opened them back up, he noticed that the ashtray was suddenly further away from him on the table. He hummed and got back up onto his knees, resting one forearm on the table as he stretched with the other arm and firmly pressed the roach out. He felt his shirt ride up at the movement, the fabric slowly sliding up his ribs, but didn’t acknowledge it, moving back to how he was before, ass planted on his own calves. 

“Fuck.” Steve’s head shot up at the word, processing that it was Chrissy who had let out the cuss. 

“Plus, what, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice drew Steve’s attention to him, and Steve felt overcome with the desire to squirm. Eddie’s eyes were so dark they were almost black. Steve tried to desperately convince himself that it was still a trick of the light. 

“Um,” he stalled, lowering his gaze to his hands in his lap, where his fingers had unconsciously started to fidget nervously. “‘s not important.” 

“Stevie,” Chrissy interjected. “Plus what?” Her tone was firm, and Steve, inexplicably, felt something settle in his chest at hearing it. 

“It would just be…hypocritical…of me,” Steve started, haltingly. He had never told anyone except for Robin that he was queer. It was nerve-wracking revealing it to two people at once. “to judge it. When I’m bisexual.” He didn’t stumble over the word. Didn’t trip up, or make a mistake. If he was going to come out, he was going to do it in a way that there was no mistake. He may not be out and proud (he was actually pretty sure his father would beat him to death if he was), but he wasn’t ashamed of who he was. Steve had worked hard to get to the point where he could openly acknowledge his feelings, even if he ignored everything else. 

“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you for telling us.” Steve’s head shot up so fast he almost felt whiplash. Eddie and Chrissy both had soft looks on their faces, twin smiles and dimples on display. It would’ve been creepy if Steve’s brain wasn’t currently trying to melt its way through his ears. He couldn’t help the clipped whimper that sounded low in his throat. ‘Baby’ was his weak point. Only a few girls had ever called him that, and it left his brain fuzzy and floating every time. “What a pretty sound, beautiful. Why didn’t you let us hear the whole thing?” Steve’s jaw dropped at the easy confidence Eddie exuded, not even fighting the urge to squirm at the man’s velvet smooth voice. “C’mere, sweetheart,” Eddie continued, spreading his legs and patting his thigh. Chrissy’s legs had retreated back to her side of the couch. 

At the reminder, Steve just sent them both a confused look through the slight haze in his mind (which was weird, because it took much more weed than he had had to get his brain as floaty as it was right then). 

At his imploring look, Chrissy let out a soft “Oh,” dragging the word out as she realized something. Then, she smiled. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind at all. You want to be a good boy for us, don’t you?” Steve felt himself nod before he could even think about it. “Then, come here, just like Eddie asked you to.” Steve rose to his full height on his knees, shuffling over the small distance between them before he stopped between Eddie’s spread legs. He kept his hands in his lap, unsure if he could touch. He didn’t say anything when he settled back onto his haunches, just looking up, and up, at Eddie with wide eyes. 

“Tell us what you’re feeling, Stevie,” Eddie softly commanded, the voice cutting through the fog in his mind. 

“My head’s all fuzzy, and not from the weed. That little doesn’t get me like this. I dunno what’s happening, sorry,” he mumbled out, gaze falling from Eddie’s intense one and back to his hands. 

He felt fingers slip under his chin, slowly and gently guiding his head back up and forcing his gaze to meet Eddie’s once more. Steve’s skin tingled from the point of contact.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. You’re so pretty like this,” the older man whispered, keeping his hold on Steve’s chin when he had made an aborted movement to look down again. “Ah, ah, Steve. Eyes on us. Do you know what subspace is?” 

Steve’s brows furrowed as he thought it over. He nodded no, even though the haze had slowly started to leave. 

“Words, Stevie,” Chrissy said as she got closer to the two, curling herself into Eddie’s side, “We need words.” 

She had a similar tone to Eddie’s, one that was firm and soft at the same time. It made Steve’s head spin. “No, I don’t.” Steve watched as Chrissy slowly reached out to him, placing her hand into his hair. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt her long nails lightly scrape over his locks, melting into it so much that his cheek ended up on Eddie’s thigh. 

“Good boy, Steve, answering us so well,” Eddie commented, fingertips leaving Steve’s chin and flirting along the edges of the younger boy’s jaw. “It’s when someone has a lot of chemicals rushing in their brain, making them feel real good. It makes people feel high or like they’re floating. It usually happens when they’re in so much pleasure that their body gives them the chance to float away from it all, to experience everything as it’s happening. It’s usually triggered by something, though. Can you tell us when you started feeling like this, baby?” 

Steve shivered. “That. When you called me baby. I couldn’t help it.” Strangely enough, the talking and grounding touches were making his, fuck, subspace, apparently, because that was Steve’s life now, almost completely slip away. He felt a lot more grounded than he had when he was across the room. His eyes opened again, even though the press of Chrissy’s nails was so good, and looked up at the couple. 

“There he is,” Chrissy said when she noticed, a sweet smile in place. “Feeling a little bit better?” 

Steve went to nod, but realized the girl’s earlier words. “Yeah.” 

He felt the hand in his hair tighten ever so slightly. Steve fought back a gasp at the feeling. “Good boy, remembering my instructions,” she murmured out, eyes tracking the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“You guys gotta be careful, or else I’ll slip again,” he tried to joke. Eddie used his grip on Steve’s face to tug him away from where he was resting against his thigh. Steve tried not to pout, but Eddie must have noticed, because he let out a low chuckle. 

“Do you want that, Stevie? Want us to take care of you?” Eddie asked, serious. 

Steve felt his whole body flush at the words, squirming once again at Eddie’s tone. But he couldn’t help but be confused and conflicted. They must have noticed his expression, because he felt Chrissy’s hand slip from his hair. He bit his lip to hold back a whine. 

“But you two are together,” he pointed out. “I can’t–I can’t come between that, man. It really sucks. Trust me. And…I wouldn’t be happy with just being a fun accessory to spice up your sex life for the night. I need more than that.” They seemed to be shocked into silence, not saying a word in response. Steve just sighed and kissed a night of great sex goodbye. He quickly got to his feet, wincing as his knees clicked. “For what it’s worth, I really like you guys. Eddie, I’ve had a crush on you for forever, and Chrissy you made it up there faster than I thought possible.” He laughed at himself and ran a hand through his hair, unable to meet either of their eyes. “Just…thought I would let you guys know. Have a fun night.” He shot them a tight smile before starting to turn away. 

But before he could move too far, he felt a hand shoot out and grab his wrist, pulling his weight towards the couch. Before he could face plant on top of one of them, he felt strong hands grip the backs of his thighs, using his momentum to heft him up. Steve could only scramble for purchase, adjusting so that he wouldn’t fall. It made it so that he ended up in Eddie’s lap, fully straddling him, hands on the taller’s shoulders. 

“What-”

“Listen to me, Steve. I have had a crush on you since your senior year, when you punched one of your old friends in the face because he had called me a queer. Chrissy has had a crush on you since you looked her in the eyes instead of at her tits like every other stupid guy and called her beautiful at prom,” Eddie ranted, hand holding Steve’s jaw firmer than before to keep his gaze on him. “Chrissy has had to deal with me fawning over you since you sat your ass down and watched one of my campaigns, those adorable puppy eyes burning a hole into the side of my head, distracting me the whole time.”

“It’s true,” Chrissy chimed in. “And how could I be jealous when he had to listen to me rambling about how fucking good you looked at your swim meets? God, Steve, I would sit eight hours at those things just so that I could get a glimpse of those perfect thighs.” 

Steve’s face was on fire. He hadn’t been able to sit still the whole time they both spoke to him, squirming and panting at all the information they were throwing at him. There was no way they both wanted him. It was too good to be true. He nodded his head back and forth. “No way. This is a dream. I don’t–I don’t get things like this.” He reopened his eyes, imploring them to understand. “I don’t get things I want. I get cheated on, and–and I get beaten half to death, and I get yelled at by my parents-” Steve stopped himself when he noticed the heartbroken expressions on his crushes’ faces. His eyes widened, “No, wait, I’m sorry forget I said anything-”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupted, urgent. “Baby, can I kiss you?”

Steve gasped at the request, shocked. Could he let himself have this? 

“Please,” he whimpered.

Eddie wasted no time, using his grip on Steve’s face to tug the man towards his mouth, lips meeting Steve’s with a gentleness that made the younger’s mind go completely blank. As his eyes slipped shut, he felt Eddie’s hand slip into his hair, not tugging, but instead holding him close as he poured his heart out into the kiss. Steve felt like he was on cloud nine, Eddie’s lips sliding over his perfectly. His lips were as plush as Steve had imagined them to be—so, so soft as they molded to his. Steve could feel Eddie’s stubble scratch against the skin of his chin, and he shivered at the feeling, gasping in surprise at the pleasure of it. Eddie pulled away, then, and Steve was helpless to stop himself from trying to follow him, stopped only by the hand in his hair holding him in place. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to do that,” Eddie huffed out. Steve couldn’t drag his eyes away from Eddie’s slightly reddened lips, evidence that what just happened was real. 

He felt another hand slide into his hair, tugging his head to the side with just enough force that he let out a choked moan, half cut off by Steve’s instinctual response of silencing himself. “My turn,” Chrissy growled out, eyes hungrier than Steve had ever seen. 

She dragged Steve close to her, stopping a hair’s breadth away from his lips. “What do you say, baby?” 

“Please,” he found himself whispering a second time, only catching a glimpse of a satisfied grin before Chrissy was crushing her lips against his. It was entirely different from Eddie’s kiss. It was hungry, primal. Almost immediately, he felt her tongue slide against his lips, and he let his mouth drop open without a second thought. It was unlike any kiss he had ever had with a girl before. Chrissy took complete control, tongue curling against Steve’s as she explored his mouth as if it was her mission. She paired it with sharp nips, biting at his lips and causing him to let out shaky breaths. Her other hand flew to his jaw, pressing and prodding at the soft flesh right underneath it, molding Steve however she wanted. It made him dizzy with want. When she finally broke away, she moved slow enough that a string of saliva connected them, stretching obscenely until gravity forced it to snap. 

“Fuck,” Steve breathed out. 

“We want you, Steve. Not just as a hookup for the night. We want to wake up with you in the morning, and we want you to stay,” Chrissy’s voice was rough, her lips puffy from the intense kiss. “We want you to be ours.” 

Steve frantically searched her face for any lie, any hesitance. He looked over to Eddie, who nodded solidly, hands tightening where they were clasped around Steve’s waist. “Really?” he had to make sure. “You’re sure? Both of you?” 

Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Never been more sure of anything in my life, sweetheart.” Steve couldn’t stop himself from kissing Eddie even if he tried. 

This time, it was Steve who wound his hands into soft hair, keeping Eddie pressed against him. This kiss was not as gentle as the last one he had shared with Eddie. This time, Eddie completely dominated Steve’s mouth. He grabbed two firm handfuls of Steve’s ass, squeezing. The sensation had Steve gasping, and Eddie took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into Steve’s mouth, much like Chrissy had. Eddie’s tongue was heavenly. The more he explored Steve’s mouth, the more he discovered what made the younger man tick. When he ran his tongue over the roof of Steve’s mouth, Steve couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled out of him, or the way his hips bucked forwards, grinding against Eddie, making the other man moan as well. 

He tore away from the kiss and hid his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, cheeks flushed as embarrassment flooded through him. He had always been told by his previous partners that he was too loud, Jesus Steve, aren’t you embarrassed? He had trained himself out of outwardly expressing his pleasure, and had ripped his lip open more than once due to the force in which he bit them shut. He was worried that Eddie and Chrissy would say the same thing, so he mumbled out, “Sorry, sorry, I swear I was trying to be quiet. I can be good, I promise.” 

“Steve, can you look at me, please?” Chrissy urged him, nails through the hairs on the back of his neck. He wanted to be good, so he untucked his face from his hiding spot and met her eyes. “Good boy.” Steve’s hand flew to his mouth, then, biting his palm as he tried to muffle the whine that was building in his chest. Chrissy tsked as she reached up, tugging Steve’s hand from his mouth just as the whine finally tore itself from Steve’s mouth. 

“Oh, fuck, princess,” Eddie ground out, hands squeezing Steve’s ass again as his hips bucked up.

“See that, Steve? See what your pretty noises do to us?” she brought the hand she was still holding to the hem of her shorts, slowly working Steve’s hand up her inner thigh until his fingertips reached the spot between her legs. The fabric was almost completely soaked through. “Feel that, baby? Feel how wet you get me?” Steve moaned as she started to use his hands, her fingers resting right over Steve’s, pressing his hand tighter against herself and grinding once, twice. “I want you to be a good boy and not hold anything back, okay? Those noises show us how good we’re making you feel, love, don’t hide them from us.” 

“Yes, sir,” Steve let slip, getting ready to punch himself in the face in humiliation before Chrissy threw her head back and moaned, loud and clear. She then scrambled to kneel next to her boys, hand leaving Steve’s as she shoved both of them into Steve’s hair and pulled.

“Good boy,” she practically growled before slotting her lips over his once more, moaning again when Steve continued his ministrations, despite the awkward angle of how his hand was positioned in her shorts. 

“I hope that name isn’t only reserved for her, baby boy,” Eddie teased, tongue running along Steve’s exposed neck and biting down on the skin underneath Steve’s ear. Steve groaned at the feeling, the pain shooting sparks up his spine and heat curling in his gut as Eddie lapped over it to soothe it. 

“No, sir,” Steve managed to gasp out when Chrissy had pulled back, “for both of– both of you.” Eddie let out a groan of his own at the name, using his grip on Steve’s ass to grind him into the bulge trapped in his jeans. “O-oh, oh! Please, sirs, please–” Steve wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, exactly, but he knew he wanted them to just keep going. 

But then, something occurred to him. “Wait, wait.” They both stopped immediately, backing off as soon as Steve spoke.

“Too fast?” Chrissy questioned, looking slightly guilty. 

“Oh, God, no. It was perfect, you’re both perfect,” Steve rushed out. “But earlier, you mentioned subspace. That can’t be all there is to it. What else do I need to know?” 

Eddie looked at him in awe, and couldn’t resist dragging Steve into another searing kiss. “God, Steve, you have no idea how perfect you are, do you?” Steve squirmed again, and this time, Eddie’s hands firmly grasped his hips, holding him still. The display of strength made his mouth water. “Yes, there’s more, sweet thing. But what’s important for tonight is the stoplight system. When either Chrissy or I ask you what your color is, it’s us checking in and making sure that everything is okay. Green is for ‘all good, keep going,’ Yellow is for ‘slow down to stop and talk’ and Red is ‘full stop.’ We’ll stop whatever we’re doing and go straight to aftercare. We won’t get mad at you for using it, and we’ll talk about it when you’re ready to make sure that it never happens again, okay? Do you understand?”

Steve nodded, responding, “Yes, sir. Green for good, Yellow for stop and talk, Red for full stop and straight to aftercare.” His eyes bounced between both of them, continuing, “It works both ways, right? You guys have just as much of a security net as I do?” 

Their eyes softened, amazed by the beautiful boy in front of them. “Yes, baby,” Chrissy answered, “Thank you for asking.” 

Steve flashed them both a smile, beyond happy. “Are we um,” he started, reminded of how fucking hard he was at the pet name, “are we good to keep going? What’re your…colors?” 

“So fucking green, princess,” was Eddie’s response.

“Green,” was Chrissy’s. 

There was a beat before Steve found himself suddenly hoisted into the air, legs instinctually wrapping themselves around Eddie’s waist as the man lifted him up. Steve let out a full laugh at the new position. “Eddie, baby, I’m a fully grown man. How the fuck can you just lift me?” 

Eddie responded with a playful nip at Steve’s neck, starting to walk towards where Steve assumed his bedroom was. “Steve, you weigh nothing. You’re gorgeous, but where’d all that mass go, hm?”

Steve’s eyes met Chrissy’s over Eddie’s shoulder, the girl’s face softening in understanding. “Let’s talk about it later, okay boys?” They both nodded as they made their way into Eddie’s room, Eddie tossing Steve onto the mattress like a ragdoll.

Then he turned and swept Chrissy into a passionate kiss. Steve felt his hand drift to the front of his jeans, squeezing himself at the sight. It was a battle of dominance if Steve had ever seen one, tongues visible as they plunged them into each other’s mouths, Eddie’s hand firmly grasping Chrissy’s face, while Chrissy’s hands were tangled up in Eddie’s hair. It was messy, it was beautiful, it was hot as fuck. His breath caught on a whimper, lazily pushing into his own hand where it rested against his clothed erection. 

“I think our boy’s getting a little jealous, Eds,” Chrissy whispered, apparently having amazing hearing. She used her hold on Eddie’s hair to turn his head to look at Steve while she let her mouth trail down Eddie’s neck. “Just look at him. So desperate for us, hm?” Eddie’s pupils were so blown out that honey brown turned into two dark bottomless pits, gaze hungry as he drunk in the sight of Steve grinding into the heel of his hand. The younger man was laid out flat on the bed, propping himself up on one forearm behind him as he watched Chrissy mouth a line of bruises over Eddie’s pale neck. He wasn’t jealous, no. He was more turned on than he had ever been before in his entire life. 

He couldn’t help himself from imagining Chrissy’s lips on his own neck, biting and licking, leaving behind a trail of marks that would show everyone just who he belonged to. He imagined Eddie’s fingers curling around his neck, squeezing until Steve’s head was blank aside from the rush of blood in his own ears. He imagined hands, though they flickered between thick and wide, and dainty but no less ruthless. He imagined those hands on him, in him, everywhere. The thoughts made him bite his lip as his head fell back between his shoulders, his hand desperately trying to give himself the friction he so desperately wanted. 

Suddenly, the bed dipped next to him, and a hand found his wrist, tugging it away from himself. Steve let out a cut-off whine, and brought his head back up so that he could glare at whoever had stopped him. He absolutely did not pout when he saw it had been Eddie, his wrist still in the taller’s grasp, callused fingers holding him firm. Eddie grinned at the sight, quickly repositioning them so that Steve was in his lap once more, thighs bracketed around one of Eddie’s thicker ones. He fought to not immediately grind onto the offered leg, not willing to stoop that low yet. 

“Now what kind of filthy thoughts were just going through that pretty head? You gonna share with the class?” Eddie murmured out, maneuvering the wrist he was still holding so that it rested over his shoulder. Steve flushed with embarrassment, nodding a quick ‘no’ and ducking his face so that they couldn’t see how red he was getting. 

Steve felt pressure against his back, Chrissy’s arms wrapping around him from behind, hands exploring the exposed flesh of his stomach. One hand trailed up his chest and met his jaw, pressing at it until he was once again eye-to-eye with Eddie. Then, he felt warm breath puff against the shell of his ear. “You have two options, pretty boy. Either ride Eddie’s thigh like we all know you want to while you tell us what you were thinking about. Or,” she pressed impossibly closer, nails slightly digging into the skin of his naval, “you’re going to save to sit on the floor, only watching as Eddie and I get off without you. Now, what do you want to do, baby?” 

He squirmed at the idea of them leaving him to helplessly watch. Normally, he would be down with the idea, already hopping off the bed to watch the two beauties in front of him lose themselves in bliss. But, right then? As he felt both of them so close for the first time? He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

Steve lifted his hips a little, before bringing them back down against the flesh of Eddie’s thigh. He gasped at the sensation, heat flaring in his gut even though he knew it wasn’t enough. 

“Good boy,” Eddie purred, voice velvet, “but let’s get you more comfortable. Do you mind taking off your jeans, sweetheart?” Steve nodded fast, breaking away from the two of them to unzip his pants and peel them off his legs, taking his socks off along with them. When he clambered back into position, Chrissy was back against him immediately. Eddie’s fingers clutched at Steve’s newly exposed thighs, fingertips sliding under the tight hem of his briefs. “God, princess, look at you in these slutty things. They barely cover anything,” Eddie groaned. Steve’s hips bucked involuntarily, moaning at Eddie’s words and the delicious friction he felt without his jeans blocking the way. 

“That’s it, baby, show us how good it feels to ride his thigh. C’mon, a pretty slut like you doesn’t need to hide his noises, does he?” Chrissy whispered out, grinding herself into Steve’s back so that he couldn’t help but follow the motion, falling back onto Eddie’s leg once more. Steve was surprised to hear himself moan at the name, never one to call girls that himself. But it felt different when it was directed at him. Felt different when it was wrapped up in honey-dipped words, the meaning changing when Eddie and Chrissy used it. 

“No, sir,” he remembered himself, giving up all pretense and starting to ride Eddie’s thigh in earnest. He let himself get lost in the movements for a little bit, relishing in the feel of plush skin (Eddie had been wearing shorts the whole time–how did Steve not notice?) rubbing his dick, as well as the tight grip Eddie had on his thighs, and the way Chrissy was running her nails through the trail of hair on his stomach. 

“Tell us what you were thinking, Stevie,” Eddie’s voice sounded, breaking Steve out of the short haze he had fallen into. “What got you so worked up that you’re practically dripping against me?” 

Steve threw his head back, it landing on Chrissy’s shoulder, as he let out a loud moan, completely uninhibited. At the noise, Chrissy latched her mouth to his neck, and Eddie’s grip tightened so much that Steve was sure there would be bruises in the morning. Hoped there would be bruises in the morning. 

“I was, ah, thinking about you both. In the living room, when you told me you got Chris to finish, all I could think about, hah, was you eating her out, her thighs wrapped around your head,” Chrissy moaned at his words. “And—and just now, when you two were together, God, you two are beautiful, just the hottest people I’ve ever fucking met-” Steve cut himself off with a whimper as Eddie grabbed his ass again, using his grip to grind Steve harder and faster against his leg. “Oh my god– and I was picturing Chrissy’s marks all over my neck, and, also,” Steve didn’t finish the thought with words, instead grabbing one of Eddie’s hands and bringing it to his neck, curling his own hand around Eddie’s to keep it there. 

“Fucking hell, baby. You want me to choke you? Want to feel nice and fuzzy?” Eddie ground out excitedly, fingers tightening of their own accord. 

“Yes, yes, please, sir,” Steve babbled, “green, green, green-” He was cut off by Eddie digging his fingers into the pulse points on either side of his neck, leaving his windpipe alone so that Steve could continue to gasp in breaths. Sounds started to fade as pressure increased in Steve’s brain, leaving only the rapid pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. Then, Eddie let go, and Steve went still as pleasure flooded him, making him moan in relief. He had only ever tried that on himself, but if he had Eddie doing it for him, Steve figured he could get used to it. 

“That feel good, pretty boy? See what happens when you just ask for what you want?” Chrissy spoke between bites on his neck, having immediately attached her mouth back to the pretty mole-flecked skin after Eddie had let go. “We’ll give you whatever you want, baby, you just have to ask for it.” 

“Can I have a kiss?” he instantly responded, fighting off a cringe at his own eagerness. Chrissy just smiled and obliged, adjusting so that she could meet his lips in a comfortable position. He melted into it, mouth dropping open before Chrissy could even swipe her tongue across his lip to ask, moaning as her tongue found his, curling and sliding against it. He was completely submissive to her, letting her take her time to roam around his mouth, exploring much like Eddie had. 

As she sucked on his tongue, Eddie mumbled, “Lick the roof of his mouth. It drives him wild.” And Chrissy did just that, the tip of her tongue teasingly pulling across his palate, swallowing Steve’s whimper. “What else, princess? What else were you thinking of?”

Chrissy backed off so that Steve could answer, though it took a few minutes for his addled mind to catch up. When it did, he flushed again. “Your fingers,” he answered, “Both of your hands, all over me, in me-” Eddie groaned at that, as if he was picturing Steve splayed out underneath him, slowly fingering him open. 

“You want that? Want Eddie’s thick fingers splitting you open, filling you more than you’ve ever been before?” Chrissy had a hunger in her eyes, and it looked like she was as into the idea as Steve was. “I can tell you that it feels real nice, baby. He’s got musician's hands, knows all the right buttons to press.” 

Steve whimpered out, “Please!” He panted as Eddie’s grip tightened on his ass, kneading the flesh there. “But, I want you to feel good too, sir. ‘s only fair.” 

“What a pretty way of saying you want your mouth on my clit,” Chrissy teased, the condescending tone causing Steve to grind onto Eddie’s leg again. “How about this: you work on making me feel good, while Eddie works on making you feel good?” 

“But what about Eddie feeling good?” The thought of not putting work in for both of his partners made him shiver in a bad way. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me, sweetheart. I have a few ideas of what I’ll do to you,” Eddie answered, hands drifting up and under Steve’s shirt, pushing the fabric higher on his body. Steve’s hand shot out before he could take it off, though, grasping Eddie’s wrist. 

“I, um. I have a lot of scars,” Steve explained, “They’re not–not the most attractive things to look at.” Steve didn’t want to ruin the fun, but raised claw marks from various monsters, as well as pock-marked, still-healing bruises from the rings that had been on the Russians’ fingers as they repeatedly beat him, didn’t make for the most pretty of views. 

“I have scars, too,” Chrissy assured, pulling back so that she could tug the hoodie off of her body, revealing soft flesh and a blue sports bra. Her fingers dipped to her shorts, and she pulled those off too, revealing matching lacy panties, and, most importantly, a mass of thin, white lines that littered both of her sides. They started at the base of her hips and littered down her flank, only stopping an inch above where Steve knew the end of her cheer skirt rested. 

“And so do I,” Eddie commented, leaning far enough from Steve that he could tug his shirt off, exposing a cluster of cigarette burns on his chest, mostly hidden underneath a tattoo. “We’re not gonna judge you for whatever you’re hiding under that tiny shirt, Steve. And we’d never think you were any less beautiful. But, we won’t force you to take it off, if you’re not comfortable.” 

Steve shook his head, filled with an overwhelming feeling of affection for the both of them. They were both so brave, so beautiful. They wore their scars with pride, and it gave Steve the courage he needed. He just hoped they wouldn’t ask what they were from. He grabbed Eddie’s hands, lifting them back to his torso and sliding them up his shirt. With a smile, Eddie got the hint, slowly pulling Steve’s shirt off of his body, and tossing it to the pile of clothes on the ground. Steve shut his eyes as both of them reached out to touch him. Eddie’s hands stayed on his front, brushing over the marks left by the Russians, while Chrissy moved to gently explore his back. He shivered when he felt the pads of three of her fingers follow the lines of a particularly bad claw mark, the thing starting on his left shoulder blade and diagonally following the slope of his back, curling around his ribs on his right side before they cut off. 

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered against his skin, flicking out his tongue and catching on a nipple. Steve shuddered and arched into it, moaning at the praise, as well as the feeling of Eddie swirling his tongue on such a sensitive spot. 

“So pretty for us, Stevie,” Chrissy agreed, “Only for us to see.” 

Steve nodded rapidly. “Only for you–only yours,” he groaned. 

“Good boy,” Chrissy purred as she drifted away from the boys, situating herself so that she was resting against the pillows by the headrest, slowly pulling off her panties, her eyes never leaving Steve’s. “Now come, here, baby. Make me feel good.” Eddie laughed at Steve scrambling to exit his lap, falling to his stomach on the bed and leveling his face right in front of where he knew Chrissy wanted it. He waited patiently, gazing up at her with big, pleading eyes. She seemed to understand, threading her fingers in his hair and tugging him forward, guiding him exactly where she needed him. 

Steve let his tongue lull out, flattening it and wiping one firm stroke from her hole to her clit, halting only to circle it a few times before forming his lips around the bundle of nerves and adding gentle suction. He placed the tip of his tongue directly on it, flicking it with tiny motions as he continued sucking. At the sound of a hearty moan, Steve glanced up, drinking in the sight of Chrissy with her head thrown back against the pillows, mouth hanging open as she let out a string of filth: “Yeah, baby, just like that. Knew your little slut mouth would be perfect, oh-” She kept going as Steve slid his hand under her thigh, hooking it around so that it was resting on his bicep, allowing him the freedom to smooth his hand over her scars briefly. 

He pulled away for a moment. “Beautiful.” He dove back in, fingers moving from her flank to her clit, circling his fingers and keeping steady pressure there as his tongue wandered further down. The taste of her exploded on his tongue as he pressed in through puffy lips, breaching her. He lapped at her a few times before stiffening his tongue and bobbing his head, penetrating her over and over. 

“Fuck, baby,” Chrissy’s voice dragged on the words, lengthening them into what was almost a whine. “Such a good boy, so perfect, feels amazing-” He didn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from the words, unconsciously rolling his hips into the mattress at the praise. He was doing that. He was reducing Chrissy to a moaning mess. Steve was more than happy to give up control, especially to two people who treated him so well, but it gave him pleasure to be reassured that he was good at this. He had had years of practice. 

Steve almost jumped at the feeling of a hand on his hip, pulling his lower half off of the mattress while another hand pushed on his back, making sure that his chest stayed how it was, and he remained in a position where he could keep his mouth on Chrissy. The new position found him on his knees, back arched as he continued his ministrations. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned at the sight, Steve matching him with a moan of his own as firm hands grasped his ass. Lips met the dimples at the base of his spine and fingers reached into the waistband of his briefs, slowly sliding them over the curve of his ass and down his legs (Steve distantly heard the dull thwap of them meeting the ground). Hands reached for his now bare ass, pulling the cheeks apart so that Eddie could look his fill. 

The motion had Steve groan so loud, and so long, that Chrissy’s legs suddenly clamped over the sides of Steve’s head, her back arching and mouth slung open on a silent scream as she shook from the force of her orgasm. Steve worked her through it, tongue not leaving her until she used her grip in his hair to gently push him away. He rested his cheek against her thigh, catching his breath. 

Chrissy talked to him as Eddie momentarily stepped away, running her fingers through his hair and showering him with gentle praises. Her words were like shockwaves shooting down his spine, making his dick twitch from where it hung heavy between his thighs. Steve had always loved being praised. His partners didn’t do it often, since it was mostly him who had been in the lead, but when girls would gasp, whine out a ‘so good Steve, shit’ his mind would blank, and he would full-body shiver. He hadn’t given it much thought, though, until Chrissy had teased him while he was on his knees, the ‘good boy’ making him throb before he had even been hard. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he returned to the bed, throwing a couple of items Steve couldn’t see onto the mattress. “What’s your color? Have you ever done this before?” 

Steve wanted to hide at the question, thankful that his position made it so that neither of them could force him to look them in the eyes. “Green. And yes, I have,” he answered, voice low, “But only to myself.” 

Eddie groaned, and Steve heard the sound of fabric rustling, assuming that Eddie was taking his shorts off. “Yeah, baby? You’ve put those pretty fingers inside yourself? Maybe just like this, with your ass presenting to no one and your face shoved in the sheets?” Steve whined, back subconsciously arching even further at the words. “What were you thinking about, hm? Maybe a pretty girl who finally got the courage to treat you how you so desperately want? Or, maybe, you pictured thick fingers inside of your pretty hole, a mystery man taking everything he wants from you?” 

Steve moaned as the older’s now ringless hands grabbed his ass again, and breathed out, “You, sir. I always pictured you. Thought about your rings, your calluses. I couldn’t think of anyone else even if I tried.” 

The admission caused Eddie to growl, the man molding himself to Steve’s back and he whispered in his ear, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, princess?” 

Steve smirked. “I think I might have an idea,” he quipped, pushing back and wiggling his ass against Eddie, feeling his bulge rub obscenely against him. He chuckled when he heard Chrissy laugh breathlessly above him, but choked on it when he felt a soft slap against his ass. 

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie huffed into his ear before backing away, grabbing one of the items he had laid out before. Steve heard the pop of a bottle cap opening, and shivered in anticipation. When he felt fingers ghost against his neglected cock, trailing it from tip to base before rubbing against the soft skin behind his balls, he turned his head, biting into the meat of Chrissy’s thigh to silence himself. Eddie’s pointer finger finally made its way to Steve’s hole, but only to lightly circle it, the touch fleeting and doing nothing to provide Steve the stimulation he needed. “What do you want, Stevie?” 

Steve had to release his hold on Chrissy’s skin, briefly placing a lick and a kiss where he had bitten as a silent apology. “Please, sir.”

Eddie hummed, but didn’t stop his teasing. “Now that’s not very specific, is it? Please, sir, what?” 

Steve huffed in frustration, both annoyed and insanely turned on by the fact that Eddie was making him explain himself. “Please, sir, touch me,” he whined, wiggling his ass again to try and get more from the older man. 

“But I am touching you, sweetheart! Can’t you feel me?” Steve could hear the smug smile in his voice and could feel Eddie’s fingers dig back into his perineum.

“Eddie,” Chrissy chastised, “play nice.” 

“Oh I will, don’t you worry,” Eddie shot back, “I just wanna hear how pretty our Stevie can beg, babe, don’t you?” Steve felt the girl’s fingers tighten in his hair at the words, and Steve figured the answer was pretty clear.

Steve was reminded of how he had felt pleasantly warm when Eddie had made him beg for the joint earlier. And if he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, he was feeling desperate enough. “Please, Eddie! Sir, please I want your fingers inside me so bad! Been thinking about it forever, drooling all over my sheets as I called your name into my empty room. Please, please-!” 

He was rewarded with twin moans from his partners, as well as a playful bite to the skin of his ass. “Shit, Stevie, how can I say no when you beg so pretty? Take a breath and relax baby boy, you’ll get what you want,” Eddie breathed out, his finger finally, finally starting to breach Steve, pushing in so slowly that Steve thought he was going to be teased again.

He whined and squirmed, fingers tightening against Chrissy’s skin where he was still holding onto her with one hand. “Shh,” she soothed, “he’s just making sure he doesn’t hurt you. Be patient, okay? You’re doing so good, baby.” The words caused him to relax fully, allowing the slide of Eddie’s finger to go a lot easier than before. “That’s it, just breathe.” 

The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but it was new. Steve didn’t have small hands by any means, but Eddie’s finger was a lot thicker than his, stretching him more open than he could with one finger himself. There was a moment where Eddie was still to let Steve adjust, but when the younger boy started to twitch his hips, Eddie carefully slid his finger almost all the way out, before smoothly reinserting it into Steve. His head spun at the motion, letting out a soft moan. It wasn’t near enough, but the fact that it was Eddie who had a finger in him sent pleasure zipping up his spine anyway. Eddie repeated the move a few times, letting Steve get used to the feeling.

“Ready for another, love?” Eddie asked, voice a little breathless.

“Please,” Steve responded quickly, wanting to feel the stretch.

And a stretch it was. Eddie had pulled out his finger almost all the way yet again, but this time, Steve could feel the tip of another finger prodding along his entrance. Eddie moved just as slowly as he did before, keeping his two fingers together as tightly as he could to minimize the feeling. Steve breathed a few, measuring breaths as he did it, relishing in the feeling of being more full than he had ever been. The burn was just on the ride side of painful, enough that it had a drop of pre-come leaking from his tip and lulling onto the mattress below him. Eddie moaned at the sight, grabbing at his dick with his free hand as he appreciated the sight before him. Steve could imagine how obscene it was: his hole, stuffed full of two fingers, his back arched and on full display, his cheek resting on Chrissy’s thigh, her legs still parted as she circled her own clit lazily. 

Eddie must have deemed him ready, finally, as he started gentle thrusts with his fingers, the pads of them exploring every inch of Steve’s insides, searching for the spot that Steve had only ever managed to hit once or twice on his own. Steve’s body started to rock against Eddie’s fingers without his permission, meeting Eddie for every short thrust he made and relishing in the drag of Eddie’s fingers against his walls. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous like this,” Eddie moaned. Steve was helpless to stop the noises that were escaping him, and he didn’t think he even cared. It just felt so good to be stretched open like this, Eddie’s fingers having had started to scissor inside of him, pulling and poking and prodding in all the ways that drove Steve wild. Suddenly, he felt like a bolt of lightning shot through him, his hips jumping away from Eddie and he let out a deep, guttural noise. 

“Finally,” Eddie panted, pleased with himself for finding Steve’s prostate with only two fingers. The man grabbed Steve’s tiny waist with his free hand, pulling him back on his fingers so hard that his face slipped off of Chrissy’s leg and landed on the sheets. Eddie mercilessly rubbed his fingers on that spot inside Steve, making Steve’s legs tremble as he let out a litany of long, drawn-out noises into the fabric under his mouth. Chrissy was quick to adjust Steve’s head, leaving it on the mattress, but moving him so that they could hear Steve’s moans uninhibited. He was letting out high-pitched ah, ah, ah’s, that made Eddie leak into his boxers and Chrissy dig her own fingers inside herself, enjoying the show. 

Steve felt the world melt away, his only focus being on the feeling of Eddie’s fingers inside him, of Chrissy’s fingers twisting and pulling his hair. He felt shock after shock run along his body, Eddie practically massaging his prostate, only stopping to thrust his fingers a few times to stop them from cramping. Steve felt the familiar swirl in his gut, heat pooling in his stomach as his pleasure met an ultimate peak. “‘m close, sirs, so close,” he blabbered out. He would be surprised if they had any idea what he was saying. “Can I? Can I please? I’ve been so good, so good for you, please-”

“Yes, baby,” Eddie answered, voice gravely, “You can cum whenever you want.” 

Steve whined, pressing his hips back against Eddie. “C’mon, princess,” Chrissy ordered, “cum for us.” 

The name coming from her lips, as well as the order, was all Steve needed for him to reach his climax, jerking in Eddie’s grasp and clenching down on his fingers as ropes shot out of him. He came with a scream. His entire world whited out as he rode his orgasm out on Eddie’s fingers, his thrusts aligning with the waves of pleasure that cascaded over his body. It was the hardest Steve had ever came in his life, and he loved it. 

When he was done, he collapsed on the mattress, boneless and basically dead to the world. He didn’t feel Eddie’s fingers leave him, but he did feel the gentle carding of fingers through his hair, as well as murmurs of whispered praises that he couldn’t really make out. 

Steve came back to Earth when he felt Eddie start to move away from him. His hand shot out to grasp Eddie’s wrist, stopping him.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart, we just gotta get you cleaned up,” Eddie tried to explain, but Steve just shook his head. 

“You didn’t cum,” he spoke, voice only slightly slow as he was still firmly in the afterglow of the best orgasm of his life. 

Eddie’s eyes softened. “That's okay, Stevie, I had more fun than you probably realize-”

“No,” Steve spoke firmly, “You’re going to cum. I need you to cum. Strip.” He tugged Eddie back on the mattress after the man, baffled, stripped off his boxers. Steve flipped over on his back, Chrissy helping maneuver him so that he was resting against her front, chest to back. He reached over and grabbed the lube, pouring a generous amount on his hand before spreading his legs, slathering the liquid on both sides of his inner thighs. He then closed his thighs, rubbing them against each other, spreading the lube even more, before grabbing the backs of his knees and drawing his legs as close to his chest as he could manage. 

Eddie was gaping at him, eyes roaming hungrily over Steve’s exposed state. He caught on fast, though, quickly kneeling in front of Steve, one hand clasping over Steve’s at his knees, while the other took his cock in hand, guiding it to the space between Steve’s thighs. His body shuddered at the wet glide of it, and his hips bucked when Steve flexed the muscles there, creating a vacuum of tight heat for Eddie to fuck into. He let out a deep groan as he started fucking Steve’s thighs, not holding back as he let his hips snap forward, again, and again, and again. 

“Jesus H. Christ, Steve. Shit. You feel so good, so tight, so wet. Can’t wait to fuck you for real, bet I’d have you screaming on my cock,” Eddie babbled, more words streaming from his mouth the further to the edge he got. Chrissy reached over Steve to grasp Eddie by the hair, pulling him into a filthy kiss above Steve. Eddie continued to fuck Steve’s thighs, moaning desperately into Chrissy’s mouth when he started tugging rougher on his hair. 

Steve could feel that Eddie was close, his grip on Steve’s legs bruising. Steve took a gamble as he repeated Chrissy’s words: “Cum for us, Eddie.” 

It did the trick. Eddie thrust one, two, three more times before he exploded, releasing all over Steve’s thighs and stomach, moaning both of their names. He immediately let go of Steve’s legs, guiding them gently to the mattress before he flopped down beside Steve and Chrissy, his chest heaving and hair sticking to his neck with sweat. He looked delectable, all fucked out, a blissful expression on his face as he came down from his high. 

Steve felt fingers gently pull his face so that he was facing Chrissy, the girl dropping a kiss on his lips before whispering, “Be right back. Gonna get something to clean up with.” She slipped out from behind him, and Steve watched her ass as she walked away. 

 

He must have drifted off at some point, because when he came to, it was to a gentle cloth running all over him, collecting the mess that they had all made of him. Steve smiled as he watched Chrissy, the girl entirely focused on the task of cleaning up both of her boys, tongue poking out between her lips in concentration. When she was done, she prodded both boys to get up, tossing two pairs of boxers to them both while she slipped her own stolen pair on. She then enlisted Eddie’s help with striping the sheets and putting on new ones, kissing Steve on the forehead from his place sitting on the floor, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

When they were done, and after Chrissy had opened some windows to air the smell of sex and weed out (carefully leaving the curtains drawn, though), they lured Steve back to bed, plopping him down in the middle. Chrissy pulled on her hoodie before laying behind Steve, slipping her arm around his waist and holding him. Eddie laid down in front of him, shoving his way slightly under Steve as he rested on his back, pulling Steve’s head to rest on his shoulder, and his arm around his waist. Chrissy adjusted easily, shuffling lower on the bed so that her thighs were parallel to Steve’s, tucked underneath, and her forehead rested on Steve’s back. 

There was a moment of silence, but Steve couldn’t contain himself. “What are we?” he whispered out into the dark, hoping that they were asleep. 

“We’re yours, Steve, exclusively, if you want to have us,” Eddie whispered back. “We don’t have to label it.”

 “We’re yours, and you’re ours. It can be as simple as that, love,” Chrissy added, placing a small kiss on his back. 

Steve felt a smile slowly creep onto his face. “Okay. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

Simple as that.