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1.
It’s a Friday night and Eddie Munson is sitting on Steve’s couch. This is, like, not an unusual thing, but it’s worth the note because for once Eddie isn’t sitting on the other end of the couch he’s sitting in the middle and his thigh is pressing into Steve’s and it’s a lot okay?
And look Steve likes girls. He knows he likes girls. He has always liked girls and will always like girls. It just that sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, Eddie is really fucking pretty, okay? Like right now, Eddie is rolling a blunt on Steve’s parents $1,000 coffee table and he’s so focused and when Eddie gets focused he sticks his tongue out just a little bit and he looks all concentrated and it’s- well it’s cute okay?
Steve is also aware that these are not “straight person” thoughts. Robin has dedicated enough hours over the last year to educating him on sexuality and identity for him to be very aware that these are not straight people thoughts. He just hasn’t exactly talked to Robin about them yet and he’s starting to think that was probably a mistake because his mouth is so so so dry right now and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears as he watches Eddie roll the joint.
“Okay Harrington?” Eddie looks up with a raised brow, picking the fresh joint off the table and handing it out to Steve. Steve is just grateful his hand is steady when he reaches out for it.
“Yeah, man,” he eyes the joint with some trepidation, and can’t help flicking his eyes towards the pool, shining bright even through the drawn curtains, “just been a while.”
Eddie already knows the story. Eddie knows all the stories by this point, maybe even a little more than Robin because Robin tends to forget things a lot. And Steve knows a lot about Eddie too; like how his uncle caught him with a boy once, how he taught himself guitar, or how true the rumours about him under the bleachers were true.
That’s the one that made all the thoughts in Steve’s head kick up a notch. Because the rumours about Eddie ranged from sweet to vulgar and he’s still not totally sure which ones were true. And it’s not like he can just say “hey Eddie, is it true that you give the best head?” That would be weird even beyond Steve’s usual levels of weird around Eddie.
“Stevie,” Eddie’s hand waves in front of his face and Steve jumps, tearing his eyes away from the curtain covered back yard and back to Eddie. Eddie looks concerned, but not necessarily any more than usual, so Steve brushes it off.
“Sorry,” he tries a smile, “just zoned out for a minute there.”
“It’s fine, you know we don’t have to do this, right?” Eddie raises a brow and hesitantly reaches out to grab the joint. Steve lets him because his fingers are shaking again and Eddie definitely notices that. His eyes flicker to the door now, and back, and Steve is both grateful and irritated that Eddie seems to know what he’s thinking.
“I do want to,” Steve says, but he’s quiet and Eddie’s face doesn’t loose the edge of concern.
“We don’t have to do it tonight though, the weed isn’t going anywhere, man,” Eddie smiles and reflexively Steve smiles back. He takes a steadying breath and shakes his head.
“Nah, if we don’t do it now I probably never will,” he turns so he’s facing Eddie fully, blocking the back door, “maybe… could you go first though? It’s been a while so, you know…”
He trails off when Eddie smiles and then licks his lips once, reaching for the lighter on the coffee table. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t check again to see if Steve is sure, which he appreciates. Eddie is pretty good at knowing when and when not to ask questions or to say anything. After Robin Eddie is probably the person who knows Steve best at this point, and isn’t that a trip.
When Steve was a Junior, before he and Nancy started anything, before she was really even on his radar, Steve spent a good chunk of time getting high with Tommy H. and talking shit about people. Tommy used to love bagging on Eddie and his band of “freaks” simply for existing. He never had much to say, beyond vague insults and disgust, but Steve remembers laughing at the comments through clouds of smoke and a buzz that made him feel slightly less empty inside. It makes him sick to think of now, and he’s kind of hoping that getting high with Eddie will maybe make up for those memories a bit. Might also help him sleep through the night, which would be nice.
Eddie takes the first few puffs, and then passes to Steve, who takes a small hit, because contrary to popular belief he is not a total idiot. It’s been almost three years since he last smoked, he knows his tolerance is probably shit even though it used to be very high. So he takes two small hits and hands it back to Eddie, who look at him in both confusion and amusement.
“Stevie,” Eddie says in a tone that Steve almost automatically groans and rolls his eyes at, because he knows he’s being made fun of already, “who the hell taught you how to smoke weed?”
“Uh, Tommy H,” Steve rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. Eddie doesn’t react negatively though, like Steve expects, he just lets out a sharp laugh and turns so his knees are pressing into Steve’s thigh, cross legged.
“So hate to break it to ya, big boy, but you’re not gonna feel shit if you’re inhaling like that,” Eddie takes his own hit while Steve watches in confusion. (And a fair amount of suppression because hearing the words big boy always fucking does something to his heartbeat now.)
“What are you talking about? This is how I’ve always done it, and we used to get high all the time?” Eddie laughs around the smoke filtering out of his mouth and Steve hates the way his stomach tightens in response to the sight. It shouldn’t be hot, it really, really shouldn’t. But it is. Everything Eddie does is hot. It’s horrible.
“Where did you guys used to get high?” Eddie asks, holding the joint away from Steve so that he would have to reach across the couch for it, pressing himself against Eddie. Steve isn’t exactly brave enough for that yet, so he doesn’t even try.
“I don’t know, usually my car or his basement?” Eddie laughs again, harder this time, and Steve’s mouth tugs up in reposes, even though he’s still a little confused and maybe irritated.
“You probably accidentally hotboxed yourselves, because the way you inhaled just now meant none of the smoke was getting into your lungs.”
“What, seriously?” Steve sits up a little straighter in surprise, and Eddie lets out another laugh, pulling the joint back to his own lips.
“Watch,” he says, and then pulls a drag that is exactly the same as Steve’s, eventually exhaling the smoke after a few seconds.
“That’s exactly what I did!” Steve throws his hands up in the air, and Eddie laughs again. Steve almost doesn’t care that he’s being made fun of because seeing Eddie laugh so freely is such a treat. It’s been happening more and more recently, but it’s still rare enough that Steve kind of… treasures it. He’s exasperated but he still smiles at the sound, feeling like a total dope.
“You’re not bringing it into your lungs, man, you’re just holding it in your mouth!” Eddie says through his laughter, and finally hands the join back to Save, “Try it again.”
Steve does, exactly like Eddie did, but Eddie just laughs at him again, falling sideways into the back of the couch a bit as he holds his stomach. Steve frowns, but it takes effort as he watches Eddie’s eyes close and his nose scrunch up slightly.
“I don’t get it! What am I doing wrong?” Steve asks, ignoring the slight whine in his voice when Eddie just keeps smiling before reaching out to snag the joint.
“Okay, okay, look,” Eddie leans close and wraps his other hand lightly around Steve’s neck, holding him steady. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Steve’s breath catches a bit, or how his whole body goes still, which is for the best, honestly. The last thing Steve needs is to make things with one of his only friends weird.
Eddie pulls the joint in between them and waves it about while his eyes flicker around the room for a moment. Steve knows what it looks like when Eddie is trying to think, trying to solve a problem, so he lets himself relax in his grip and wait. It only takes a few more seconds before Eddie’s eyes light up and he looks back at Steve.
“Okay I know how to show what you’re doing wrong,” he pulls Steve a little closer, so their faces are only a few inches apart, “We’re going to shotgun, that way you can see what I mean, cause you’re just letting the smoke sit in your mouth and this will show you.”
“Uh- what?” Steve stumbles out, eyes going wide while Eddie seems to not even notice, already sold on his idea.
“No, trust me, this will totally work,” and then before Steve can say another word Eddie is taking a hit and the pulling Steve even closer to him. Instinctually Steve inhales sharply when Eddie’s lips almost brush his, and the smoke he lets out goes into his mouth and straight into his lungs. Steve can feel the difference, from the hits he took before, but he barely even notices because Eddie is right fucking there and his lips look so soft and pink and a little wet from licking them and hoy shit Steve is so, so, so fucked.
He exhales and the smoke goes with it, and Eddie pulls back with a sudden “whoop” of joy, pumping his fist in the air and then pointing at Steve with a wide smile. Steve who hasn’t moved, who can feel the way his eyes are wide and his lips are parted and knows he probably looks so weird. Eddie doesn’t notice this either though, just starts rambling.
“See, that had to feel different right? I could totally see how different that was!” Steve swallows and shakes his head, forcing himself out of his dazed state, leaning back slightly, further out of Eddie’s space.
“Y-yeah, it felt different,” his voice cracks slightly but Eddie is laughing again so it doesn’t matter and Steve is pretty sure his face is on fire, but that doesn’t matter either and then Eddie is passing the joint back and Steve takes it automatically.
He takes a hit, trying to actually inhale it this time, and then coughs a little when he feels it. It’s definitely different now. Eddie laughs again, Steve’s not actually sure that he’s stopped laughing, so he takes another hit and this time he really does feel it, without the coughing.
“Oh,” he says, looking down at the joint in his hands with a small smile, “huh.”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, “‘huh!’”
Steve laughs then, feeling the ridiculousness of it all finally. It’s actually hilarious that he and Tommy spent years getting high together without ever actually correctly… getting high.
So he and Eddie laugh for a while, and they finish the joint, and then Steve makes popcorn because he’s hungry and Eddie ends up eating most of it because Eddie eats extremely fast, and they put a movie on.
Steve doesn’t know what they’re watching, only that there’s guys in dresses and singing and he kind of loves it. He tells Eddie this, who rolls his head on the back of the couch to look at Steve with a small smile.
“Which part do you love about it,” Eddie asks, eyes boring into him, and Steve feels an odd swoop in his chest, doesn’t look away while he answers.
“All of it, Eds, the fucking dancing and the music and the clothes and shit,” he waves a lazy hand at the TV where some guy is serenading another guy, “it’s cool.”
“You think Rocky Horror is,” he raises a hand to make air quotes, “‘cool?’”
“Yeah,” Steve nods, smiling and doesn’t really notice Eddie move until his nose is almost brushing his, and then his breath is catching in his throat again.
“Always full of surprises, Harrington,” Eddie whispers, and Steve swears his eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes before he pulls back suddenly, reaching for one of the unopened soda cans on the table. Eddie swallows what seems like half the can in one sip before putting the can back down and leaning back. His shoulder is on top of Steve’s and Steve does everything he can not to react, not to make him move. He doesn’t.
They fall asleep like that, heads against the back of the couch, and when Steve wakes up he’s so fucking thrilled that he didn’t have a single nightmare that it takes him a moment to even realise that Eddie’s head is on his shoulder, and Steve’s hand is wrapped behind his head, hand buried in his curls.
Steve freezes, uncertain, and of course that accidentally jostles Eddie, who moves with a sound of annoyance. Eddie twists, pushing his face further into Steve, so that his nose just presses into Steve’s shoulder, and his arm, which Steve hadn’t even noticed before, moves from the edge of Steve’s thigh all the way across his lap to hold his other hip.
Steve. Can’t. Move. This is too much, it feels like everything within his body is going into overdrive, his pulse ratcheting up and his muscles tightening and oh shit. Oh shit. Steve is hard. He’s like ridiculously hard, behind the normal levels of morning wood. Fuck.
He must still be a little high too because he doesn’t mean to but he groans aloud, head looking back to the couch. He doesn’t even register that he’s done it until Eddie starts shifting again, head picking up slightly from Steve’s shoulder. The arm that was on Steve’s hip moves, Eddie rubs his face with it, and even though it makes Steve feel like a coward and a bit like an asshole he takes his chance and escapes to the bathroom.
And even though it makes him feel like even more of an asshole, his morning wood just won’t go away. So he beats one out over the toilet and the resolves to have the most normal day ever with Eddie. To make up for all of the not normal from him already this morning.
And he makes a promise to himself to actually talk to Robin about it all.
2.
Two weeks later, after one very long, embarrassing discussion with Robin, Steve is still practicing calling himself bisexual in his head. He’s growing more comfortable with the word, and Robin is trying her best to help him. Honestly he’d be drowning without her support and help.
Which is why it’s so annoying when she cancels on their movie night. Steve is pretty aware of the weird tension going on between Robin and Nancy, so the fact that Nancy asked her to come over is a very good thing. Steve just really wished it didn’t leave him alone with Eddie for the first time since he figured out why he’s been feeling so weird around the guy.
The label bisexual is a lot easier to swallow that the idea of having a massive fucking crush on Eddie Munson.
But Robin ditched him for Nancy, which he is honestly so supportive of, and it leaves him anxiously pacing his kitchen waiting for Eddie to arrive. He could have called Eddie to tell him the movie night was off, but he didn’t want Eddie to take that the wrong way and he also just wants to see Eddie. Really badly. He’s a little pathetic, he knows.
Twenty minutes after Robin’s apologetic phone call there’s a knock on his door and then Eddie is pushing through without waiting for Steve to answer. Steve kind of loves that about the guy, it makes his home feel warmer and more welcoming than it is.
“Oh Harrington,” Eddie practically croons, “I bring provisions!”
He comes around the corner waving his lunch box in front of his chest and Steve laughs, the tension practically draining out of him at the sight of Eddie. He’d been so panicked about his newfound understanding of his sexuality he’d forgotten that he and Eddie are actually friends, that he’s comfortable around the guy.
Eddie sets up on the island, popping the latches with dramatic flair, and then presenting the box to Steve. It’s packed with a variety of things, but mostly weed, and Steve grins at Eddie. Eddie winks, and maybe that shouldn’t do the twisty thing to Steve’s stomach, because it’s over the top and clearly a joke, but it does. So.
“Your suppliers back in business then?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods before pulling out a few baggies and then launching into an explanation about the different effects of each drug, and then pointing out the different strains of weed and why they’re different. All of it goes over Steve’s head, but he likes to listen to Eddie talk so it doesn’t really matter.
“So which do you want?” Eddie gestures to the different bags of weed he has spread out and Steve blinks, coming out of the daze of watching Eddie’s mouth move.
“Uh,” he says, eloquently, and Eddie gives him that soft smile that Steve is pretty sure is reserved just for him. It makes more than twisting happen in his stomach, like something is trying to claw its way out and up his throat. It’s a big reaction to just a simple smile, but it is what it is.
“Stevie boy, did you hear a word I just said?” Eddie asks and Steve just shrugs helplessly, giving him a sheepish smile. Eddie throws his head back with a sigh and a tiny laugh and then looks back at Steve with eyes that almost glowing, and says, “It’s okay buddy, I’ve got you.”
Steve’s skin goes hot at those words. Eddie doesn’t notice, because he swipes a bag and the starts systematically putting the rest away. Steve’s mind is running a wild fantasy about Eddie and those words so it’s good that he’s not watching to see Steve’s cheeks burn bright before he gets a handle on it.
They set up on the couch, the same space as before, and Steve pops Grease into the player. Eddie groans, but it’s good natured, and he lets Steve get away with it since it is technically his night to choose the movie. It’s maybe the third or fourth time he’s chosen it. He just really likes it. Hot people singing and dancing is apparently a thing for him.
Eddie rolls the joint and they pass it back and forth until Steve is feeling pleasantly loose. He catches Eddie singing along under his breath halfway through the movie, but doesn’t say anything because Eddie has a really nice voice and he likes to hear it. Also it’s cute.
By the time the credits roll Steve is pleasantly buzzed but not “pass out with no nightmares” buzzed, so he pulls out a deck of cards. They play a few rounds of some game Eddie explains to him that Steve very clearly does not understand and keeps loosing, but it’s fun.
They’ve moved to floor in front of the tv, and it’s surprisingly cold that night, so between games Steve goes and gets them some blankets, and at the last second some pillows to rest on. He fusses with them around him and Eddie while Eddie watches with an amused eyebrow and another joint between his lips, but Steve refuses to be embarrassed by it. He likes to take care of people, sue him.
They pass the second joint back and forth and give up on the cards halfway through, collapsing onto the pillows and blankets. Steve feels satisfaction bloom through his chest when Eddie snuggles into them with a happy sound.
They don’t do much, talk a bit about what movie Eddie should pick for his choice next Friday, joke about Nancy and Robin getting their shit together, and complain about Dustin a bit. It’s nice, because things with Eddie are always nice, and they fall asleep right there on the living room floor, facing each other.
Steve dreams about something, but it’s not dark and gross and horrible the way most of his dreams are nowadays, so he wakes up feeling soft and peaceful. He’s got something warm wrapped around him, like a comfy burrito, and he pushes into it to get closer. The burrito pulls him closer in response and it’s so ducking nice that it takes Steve a solid five minutes to realise burritos don’t have arms and don’t horn you close.
When he does realise that his eyes snap open and he almost fucking moans. Honest to god has to stop the moan in his throat. Eddie is holding him, spooning him, tight and firm and Steve is fucking hard. Again.
He can tell from the heaviness of Eddie’s arms that he’s dead to the world, deep in slumber, so he doesn’t feel too bad about moving him to escape. Eddie just grumbles a little and then grabs the blankets Steve leaves behind as a replacement for Steve himself. It is way too cute for Steve’s sleeping morning wood brain to handle, and he makes a hasty retreat upstairs.
He showered yesterday morning, so he doesn’t feel too weird about doing it right then even though it’s very early. He does feel weird about jacking off in the shower to thoughts of Eddie’s arms around him, but he’s a weak man sometimes and it feels way too good to stop. It’s better than walking around with half a boner the rest of the day anyways.
He takes a long enough time in the shower and getting dressed for work that morning that by the time he gets downstairs Eddie is in the kitchen. Cooking.
Steve’s heart squeezes painfully as he immediately pictures waking up every morning to this sight. It’s a lot, and Steve knew he had a crush on the guy, but he didn’t really realise it was so deep.
He’s so screwed.
3.
Eddie’s new house, courtesy of the shady side of the US government, is basically just a cabin in the woods like Hooper and El’s place. It’s a little secluded, but it’s all bright creamy colours and surprisingly comfortable furniture.
They don’t spend a lot of time there, most of the “older party” (as Dustin keeps calling them) get together at Steve’s because Steve’s parents left him the house and decided never to come back to the crazy town of Hawkins. But tonight they gather at Eddie’s for Nancy Wheeler’s first foray into getting high.
Robin and Nancy are laughing together on the comfy couch, while Steve and Eddie lazily lay underneath them on the floor, the coffee table pushed aside to make room. They’re discussing music, or something, Steve is high enough that he’s not totally sure, but Eddie keeps saying “metal” and “damn good guitar” so he’s pretty sure that’s what they’re talking about.
“Steve,” Robin shouts suddenly, and the hall jump a little to look at her, “do the thing! The jumping thing!”
Steve groans, throwing his head back. Robin discovered a few weeks ago that Steve can jump and spin twice in the air, a full 720 she called it. She’s been making him do it whenever she wants entertainment during empty days at Family Video. Steve is very much tired of jumping.
“Rob, not right now,” he tries to make a waving motion but he’s so high his hand is heavy and barely moves. Eddie laughs, and then joins in on Robin’s demand until they’re all chanting for him to “do it.”
“Okay fine!” He finally shouts over them. He stands on in steady legs and gestures for Eddie to move slightly out of the way, closer to the couch. As soon as he has the space he take a few steadying breaths and then he jumps.
Except he’s so high, like soo high, so the jump is more of a hop and then he’s stumbling over, slowly spinning, and then falling in slow motion to his knees. Everyone cackles, even him, and they become a ball of hysterical laughter. Robin has tears running down her face and Nancy’s head is buried in Robin’s shoulder as she shakes, and Eddie-
Eddie is giggling, looking up at Steve with eyes that honest to god sparkle, as he lets out the cutest laugh Steve had ever heard. It rocks him, and he feels dazed, higher than before. Eddie seems to realise that Steve is out of it, because a minute later he’s declaring bedtime and dragging Steve from the room to give the girls some semblance of privacy.
Eddie closes his bedroom door behind them and then hands Steve some sweats and a shirt. Steve just starts stripping, because the idea of getting out of his jeans sounds incredible. He’s unbuttoning his jeans when Eddie gives a little yelp and turns around, hands over this eyes.
For whatever reason this is hysterical to Steve, and he starts laughing so hard he has to bend over and hold his stomach, forgetting about his jeans. Eddie turns around after just a couple seconds of Steve’s belly laughing and slaps his shoulder.
“Shut up, man!” He whisper shouts, “I just wasn’t expecting you to start stripping!”
This makes Steve laugh harder and then Eddie is laugh and then Steve loses some time somewhere between their laughter and them getting into bed. He feels light and floaty and happy, and he’s got soft sweatpants and no shirt on and Eddie’s sheets are very soft and it’s all so nice.
He’s not really thinking when he reaches over and pulls Eddie’s arm over him. Nor does he think about it when Eddie’s lips press to his shoulder. He’s already fading into sleep by then, and besides, it feels right.
He’s not even surprised when he wakes up with morning wood this time. No nightmares and morning wood seem to be the effects of getting high for him. He disentangles himself from Eddie’s arms, replaced himself with a pillow, and heads to the bathroom to deal with it.
He’s not even embarrassed anymore, he’s so used to it by now.
4.
They go to a party.
It’s been three months since the gate closed, for good, since El and Will both confirmed the upside down is gone for good. Things are good, stable. So they decide to go to a party.
Steve has definitely been to this house before, years ago in another life, but he can’t remember who’s house it is.
Eddie is the one who was invited, to sell “party favours” in one of the back rooms. It’s a good opportunity to make good money, is what he tells Steve and Robin, who both agree that he can’t go alone. His names been cleared and most people believe the serial killer storyline they’ve been fed, but there’s still a few Jason Carved cultists who would take an opportunity to beat down Steve. Eddie can’t go alone.
So they all go to a party.
It’s loud, and a bit claustrophobic, and Steve isn’t sure how he ever thought parties were the best. In that other life, before Nancy and the kids and Robin and everyone, he used to love them. Used to go out every weekend and go wild. He thinks maybe he’d been trying to fill the emptiness inside him, left by absentee parents and flaky friendships. He doesn’t feel empty like that anymore though, so the party does nothing for him but give him a vague headache.
“Here,” Eddie says into the (briefly) empty room, handing him a lit joint. Steve takes a long inhale, sighing after in relief.
“Thanks,” he nudges Eddie’s shoulder with his own and takes another hit.
“Not really your scene anymore,” Eddie raises and brow and Steve laughs, “no more ‘King Steve,’ huh?”
“Oh god, don’t start with that,” Steve shakes his head and groans, hating the nickname the older and older he gets. Eddie smiles and turns to face him.
“You know I had to deny you some drugs at a party once.”
“What?” Steve turns fully to face him, confused and surprised.
“Yeah man,” Eddie laughs, “I was selling at a party like this and you came stumbling into the room and demanded everyone else leave. They did, without even a seconds hesitation, it was wild man. And then you pulled out this gigantic wad of cash and asked me for all the weed I had. I was pretty tempted too, it was a lot of money.”
“We’ll why didn’t you take it then?” Steve asks, and Eddie’s mouth twitches slightly into a frown. He looks away from Steve, clearly remembering the event.
“There was something too manic about you. You were swaying like you’d drank your body weight in beer and your eyes were glazed and they just looked so… empty I guess. I just knew if I gave you that weed you would have tried to smoke all of it that night, and I didn’t want that.” Eddie shrugs and then takes the joint from Steve, taking a long drag as he shakes himself from the memory.
Steve doesn’t remember any of that, which means it was probably sophomore year when he was still learning how alcohol effected him, what his limits were, and the lack of love his parents had for him. It was a messy year for him.
“Well, thanks for not taking all my money dude,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, and smiles when Eddie barks out a laugh.
“I actually did take twenty bucks from you,” he laughs harder when Steve gives him an incredulous look, “I called it a booking fee and you fucking just handed it over.”
“What a dumbass,” Steve laughs at himself, and at the way Eddie seems delighted by his light heartedness over the whole thing.
They fall into a comfortable silence, still passing the joint back and forth and staring at each other. It takes Steve only half a minute to realise that there’s tension in the room, building every second that his eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s before dropping to his lips just once.
Steve wants. He’s wanted for a month now, since he realised what all the feeling is die him mean. He’s wanted and wanted and wanted and when Eddie’s breath catches at the look he thinks please.
They’re both leaning in, just an inch, when the door flies open and the muffled sounds of the party come full blast. They jump apart and Steve clears his throat and then takes a drag as some high school student pays for some ecstasy. After him is a stream of people wanting to buy.
Moment ruined, and feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Steve just keeps hitting the joint, until his mind goes fuzzy and he thinks his cheeks have gone back to their normal colour.
They leave the party an hour later, Eddie’s box empty and Robin and Nancy fully drunk. They help both girls to Eddie’s van, and then Eddie drives them to Steve’s house. The girls make it upstairs to the guest room with minimal help, mostly leaning on each other. Steve smiles fondly at them as the close the door and he hears them both let out appreciative sounds as they land on the bed.
Without really thinking about what he’s doing he drags Eddie to his own bedroom, and pulls out a spare pair of sweats and a shirt for him. Eddie goes into the bathroom to change so Steve changes himself, and the crawls under the covers.
When Eddie exits the bathroom, wearing Steve’s sweats and shirt, which is just a little too big on him, he feels that horribly wonderful twisting in his gut again, and can’t stop himself from patting the other side of his bed.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate, just crawls under the covers and lies on his back. Steve watches him for a minute, waiting for… something. When it doesn’t happen Steve huffs and moves closer, throwing an arm and a leg over Eddie, and pressing his face to his shoulder. Eddie freezes, but Steve assumes his feet just be cold or something, so he ignores it. He’s too high to really think straight anyways, and falls asleep in seconds, just like that.
Steve wakes up feeling hot, his skin prickling slightly, and he shifts his hips only for the hand wrapped around then to tighten, forcing him still. He’s still mostly asleep, so it takes him a minute to realise that he and Eddie have shifted positions. Steve is on his back now, with Eddie half draped over him, Eddie’s hips pressing insistently to Steve’s side.
Eddie is hard. And he’s rubbing slightly against Steve, and as soon as he realises that Steve is fucking hard too. So hard it almost hurts, as though it’s been months and not just a day since he last jerked off. He can’t even stop a tiny moan from escaping when Eddie shifts again, pushing harder into Steve.
It feels so good, but Steve knows Eddie is probably dreaming about some girl he likes and that Steve is just there and that thought is so depressing that his erection actually flags slightly. It’s enough to get him out of bed, gently moving away from Eddie who just rolls onto his stomach. Steve runs to the bathroom and starts the shower, knowing that even if that wakes Eddie it’s better than Eddie waking up to… everything that just happened.
After his shower he carefully exits to an empty bedroom, and quickly throws on a new pair of sweats and a shirt before heading towards the sounds in the kitchen.
Eddie is there, cooking again, and Steve’s heart squeezes so painfully he almost wants to cry for a minute. He pushes it away though and gets started on coffee, knowing the girls will need plenty of it.
He works hard not to look at Eddie any differently, not to linger on any part of him like his mouth or the edge of his collarbone peeking out from Steve’s shirt. He’s so focused on acting normal that he doesn’t even realise Eddie is sending him furtive glances and blushing every time they catch eyes. Doesn’t notice that Eddie is wearing a different pair of sweats than the ones he gave him last night.
He doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s eyes keep glancing at his lips, keep lingering there.
5.
Two weeks later Eddie shows up on a Sunday with a packed bag and his lunchbox and just walks in. Steve’s I’m the middle of making lunch when he turns around and Eddie is just there, sitting at his kitchen counter.
“Jesus!” Steve jumps a few inches, heart racing in surprise. Eddie smiles sheepishly at him but there’s something not quite eight about it.
“No, just Eddie,” he says, but the joke is lacklustre, and falls flat. Steve turns the stove off, ignoring his half finished grilled cheese, and moves around the counter.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands for comfort and squeezing. Eddie takes in a slightly shuddering breath and then leans slightly, so his temple rests against Steve’s chest.
“It’s a bad day, Stevie boy,” he says, and pulls out a small post card and hands it to Steve.
It’s blank, just plain white, with no postage, and written on it in angry handwriting is the message “she would have been 19 today, murder.”
Steve inhales sharply, and then pushes the card away. He doesn’t think about it as he raises his hands to comb through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and gently massaging. Physical comfort is ways to give in the moment, and Steve doesn’t know what else to do.
Eddie doesn’t hurt because people think he murdered Chrissy. Eddie hurts because he couldn’t do anything to save her, and every reminder of that is painful for him. There’s been bad days before, where Eddie goes quiet and sad. So far Steve hasn’t been able to do anything to help except hold Eddie through it and hope that someday it will get easier.
He carefully moves them to the stairs, keeping Eddie in his arms and walking backwards until the reach the bottom. He pulls back slightly, hears the hitch in Eddie’s breath at the separation, and changes his mind, moving close again.
“Up,” he taps Eddie’s hips. He’s hoping Eddie will just go with it, but of course nothing is easy, and Eddie pulls his head back to look at him in confusion. His eyes are wet and Steve feels everything in him twist painfully at the sight.
“Cmon, let me help you,” Steve pleads, and Eddie nods once, before wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulder and neck, and then hoping up. His legs wrap around Steve’s hips and it makes it easier to turn around and start walking up the stairs.
Eddie is heavy but Steve doesn’t stumble, lets sheer determination take over as he climbs and then walks down the hall to his room. He sits on the bed, Eddie still wrapped around him, and just holds him for a few minutes. He knows Eddie is crying, because his shirt is getting wet, so he rubs his hands up and down his back until his shaking subsidises a little.
He leans back, manoeuvring them so that Steve is on his back with Eddie still mostly wrapped around him, still rubbing Eddie’s back. They lay like that for a long time, until Steve eventually feels Eddie slip into an exhausted sleep.
Now is the time Steve should get up, should go make some food for when Eddie wakes, and maybe even pull out a joint from the stash Eddie keeps filling up here. But when tries to move, to disentangle Eddie’s legs form his own, Eddie lets out a sound so sad that Steve automatically just pulls him in tighter.
So he doesn’t try to move again, doesn’t want to heart that sound, and eventually he falls asleep too.
When Steve wakes next it’s dark out, probably the middle of the night, and this time he’s the one moving against Eddie’s hips, pushing down into him.
He has Eddie sort of pinned underneath him, and it takes him a second to realise the reason he woke is because Eddie is shaking his shoulder.
Steve rips himself off the bed, and is halfway across the room, leaning against his desk in less than a second.
Eddie stares at him, wide eyed and confused and Steve feels the dread crawling up and throughout his body, paralysing fear.
“I-“ Eddie starts but Steve interrupts.
“Fuck I’m sorry I was dreaming about Farah Fawcett,” Steve says, the first thing that comes to mind, and then jumps when Eddie lets out a startled laugh. And then keeps laughing until tears come out of his eyes.
“You have wet dreams,” he inhales sharply, “about Farah Fawcett?”
“Oh shut up,” Steve relaxes, overly relieved that Eddie has so readily accepted his excuse, “as if you don’t.”
For some reason this makes Eddie laugh even harder, until he’s rolling slightly on the bed, hands clasped tight around his stomach.
“I really don’t, Stevie boy,” Eddie manèges to gasp eventually, when he’s lost too much air to keep laughing. He’s grinning at the ceiling and even though Steve is relieved Eddie accepted his lie, he’s also sad that he can’t just tell the guy the truth.
“What then,” Steve asks, both out of curiosity and a morbid need to confirm that Eddie really would never want to be with Steve, not like that. “Who do you dream about then.”
“Not Farah Fawcett,” Eddie is still smiling, and he rolls his eyes towards Steve, “I’m more of a Rob Lowe fan myself.”
“Oh,” Steve breathes out, full of surprise and the tiniest twinges of hope. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, just looks back at the ceiling as he smile fades. After a second he sits up, body suddenly tense with panic, and looks wildly at Steve.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“What?” Steve asks, confused by this sudden reaction.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie stands then, arms up and placating as he backs across the room towards the door, “I’m so sorry dude I swear I was trying- I don’t- fuck.”
“Eddie what, what are you doing?” Steve asks as Eddie grips the door handle and continues to stare with wide, fearful eyes.
“I didn’t mean to make things weird. I swear I didn’t mean to just tell you like that. Fuck! Look you’re my friend and I don’t want things to be weird now but I know-“
“Eddie,” Steve takes a step with his arms up placatingly now, “what the hell are you freaking out about?”
“I-I’m gay Stevie-Steve,” he inhales shakily, “that’s what I meant by dreaming about Rob Lowe.”
“Yeah man, I got that, but why are you freaking out?” Steve shakes his head.
“Because, because you’re going to hate me now? Because I just ruined everything?” Eddie looks a little helpless and Steve’s heart breaks for him, for the thoughts going through his head.
“Eddie what? I don’t give a shit that you’re gay dude,” Steve throws his hands up in exasperation, “it would be kind of hypocritical of me, man.”
Steve doesn’t really mean to say it like that, hadn’t ever really intended to say anything. Because Eddie was straight and eventually Steve’s crush would go away, because it would have to. Except, Eddie’s not straight, and he’s afraid Steve will hate him for that, and that’s just too much.
“Wait what?” Eddie asks, hand falling from the door knob and shoulders loosening slightly.
“I’m bisexual dude, I really don’t care if you’re gay. Doesn’t change a thing,” well it doesn’t, but not in the way Eddie is clearly afraid of. It only changes things in the sense that Steve is suddenly very certain that this crush on Eddie is never, ever going away.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and then his shoulders relax slightly. And then he’s laughing again, sliding down the door with an expression of relief. “Fuck man, I thought I was about to lose my best friend.”
“I’m your best friend?” Steve asks, dumbly, because yes. Obviously they are best friends. He’s such an idiot. But Eddie just smiles at him fondly and nods, and then Steve is laughing too even though Tia really not that funny.
“C’mon,” Steve says after a few minutes, “it’s like one in the morning, let’s go back to sleep.”
Eddie agrees, and they curl up in bed, facing each other with ridiculous little smiles on their faces. They should maybe talk about things more, Steve even feels a tiny bit of guilt for just happily crawling back into bed with the guy, but they don’t. In fact they fall asleep so quickly Steve doesn’t even realise it’s happened until he’s waking up again in the morning.
With morning wood and Eddie curled around his back, again.
This time it’s almost routine, slipping out of bed, replacing his body with a pillow, going to the shower, and jerking off. Excerpt it’s kind of worse because now his fantasy is a very receptive Eddie, and he just knows his mind is probably going to be ruined form now on. Now that he knows Eddie likes guys too, probably likes sex. Definitely likes sex.
Fuck.
+1.
In the weeks following Eddie and Steve’s mutual confessions nothing really changes. Except for how it does.
Before, Steve used to be carful about how often he touched Eddie, about how often he looked. Apparently Eddie was being careful too, because now Eddie is touching him all the time, and whenever Steve looks to Eddie, Eddie is already watching him.
It’s horrible and wonderful and Steve is going a little bit crazy.
In the mornings after movie nights they make breakfast and coffee together, and it’s like Eddie finds any excuse he can to brush up against Steve. Hands trailing over his back or pushing him into the counter when reaching for things.
When they get high together Eddie starts leaning close, blowing smoke in Steve’s face, or winding his arm around Steve’s shoulders and holding him close.
If Eddie comes over and it’s just the two of them Steve swears he touches him so much more than he used. Sometimes even when the others are around Eddie doesn’t stop touching him. It’s driving him crazy.
Not that Steve is exactly innocent either. Now that Eddie seems to think touching him is fine, Steve does it back. Finds himself grabbing Eddie when he laughs, leaning towards him when they talk, hands trialing along his hips and back when they move around each other.
Steve is pretty sure he’s not making any of the lingering glances up, either. He catches Eddie’s eyes on his arms, his chest, his neck, his lips. It’s always just for half a second, but it’s enough that Steve starts thinking “maybe,” starts hoping.
It doesn’t help that they now share a bed every time there’s a sleepover or some other overnight. Steve wakes up with more consistent morning wood than ever before in his life, and it’s actually starting to make him a little unhinged.
He’s jumpy in the mornings now, after he jacks off in the bathrooms of whatever place they’re staying. He wakes up quicker too, pulling himself out of sleep before Eddie every time so the other man doesn’t know. Because even though there’s the touches and the lingering looks, Steve could be wrong, and he’s not willing to ruin his friendship on a maybe.
Apparently Eddie is a lot braver than he is though.
A few weeks after he and Eddie “come out” to each other they’re back at Steve’s house, getting high and playing card games. They’re playing war this time, and it’s fun. Fun enough that Steve doesn’t really lag attention to how much he smokes and suddenly finds himself too high to walk. Eddie laughs at him, calls him a lightweight, but does end up helping him up the stairs.
They collapse into bed as a ball of giggles. Steve mentions something about not being able to feel his cheeks and then Eddie is squishing them, moving them around and playing with them. They’re both laughing, until Eddie’s thumb accidentally slips into Steve’s mouth and on some sort of autopilot, knee jerk reaction, instinct… Steve sucks on it.
Eddie gasps, eyes going wide, and Steve doesn’t realise why until he suddenly swirls his tongue around Eddie’s thumb. Then Steve realise what he’s doing and pulls back in horror.
“Fuck, sorry man,” he gasps like he’s just run a marathon and he can feel the sudden hardness in his sweats, “I’m so high.”
Eddie just nods, swallows thickly, and then collapses onto his back. Steve does the same, and while the silence isn’t awkward it is tense. So tense that after a few seconds Steve can’t handle it and starts rambling.
He tells Eddie some story about something embarrassing he did at a party once, which had them both laughing, the tension dissipating. Steve is both relieved and disappointed by that, but before he can really think about it they’re both fading into sleep.
Steve wakes with morning wood, because of course he does. Eddie is in bed with him so he’s turned on and hard. He’s just about to start his normal routine, of moving Eddie’s arm off his hip and replacing it with a pillow, when Eddie’s arm moves.
And not just moves like shifting in his sleep, but moves purposefully, down and over, until Eddie’s hand just barely brushes over Steve’s erection.
He can’t hold the gasp in, nor the way his hips shift up, pushing into that hand. Hess horrified for a held second, and then Eddie’s hand moves purposefully, pushing down, rubbing against Steve through his seat pants. Steve’s gasps again, and then he’s being rolled, pushed onto his back so Eddie can hover over him.
Eddie’s eyes are wide, and his lips glisten a little like he just liked them. Steve swallows at the sight, eyes glued to Eddie’s lips as his hand continues to palm Steve through his jeans, sending a moan up his throat.
“Fuck,” Eddie breaths, so quiet Steve almost doesn’t hear it. Eddie pushes down a little harder and Steve’s back arches.
“Eddie,” it’s a slightly broken moan, the way he says it, and it seems to break something in Eddie in return.
“Fuck, baby,” Eddie says, and then his lips re crashing onto Steve’s.
Steve feels high in a totally different way from last night. Eddie’s lips are soft and thick and he kisses with so much need it makes Steve dizzy. At the same time his hand moves up, and then down inside Steve’s sweats and boxers, go brush against the base of Steve’s shaft.
Steve gasps into Eddie’s mouth, and then he’s begging. Pleasing really. Saying things like “please Eddie, I need you, touch me please.”
Eddie is as surprised by the sudden begging as Steve is, but he does t hesitate, just groans and presses his face into Steve’s neck as his hand moves to fully hold Steve’s cock.
It’s probably the best hand job Steve has every received in his entire life. It blows his mind, it feels so fucking good. Eddie’s hand is strong and big and the calluses on his fingers send shivers up Steve’s spine with every stroke.
He comes embarrassingly quickly, after just a minute or two, and he comes saying Eddie’s name into his ear.
Eddie is kissing his shoulder and neck as he comes down from the orgasm, and it takes not effort at all to turn and catch Eddie’s lips with his own.
They make out for a while, until Steve realises Eddie’s hips are slowly thrusting into the mattress next to him. It’s so hot Steve has to pull back to breathe, and then he stares in wonder at Eddie, whose lips are swollen and perfectly wet.
“I wanna blow you,” it comes out of Steve’s mouth before he can even stop it, and Eddie throws his head back on a moan.
Steve moves before Eddie can say a word, tugging the blankets off them and then rolling so he’s on top of Eddie. Eddie slept without a shirt on last night, so it makes it easy to start pressing kisses all the way down his body, stopping at both his nipples and then the Vs of his hips.
Eddie makes incredible noises after each touch, whimpering and moaning, and Steve honestly could get off on just those sounds, he thinks. His dick is already making an effort to get hard again.
When he gets to Eddie’s sweat pants he hesitates, but then he feels Eddie starting to rise and the fear of not being able to do this at least once pushes him through. He starts pulling them down and Eddie flips back to the bed with a groan.
Eddie’s dick is pretty. It’s the only way Steve can think to describe it. Or maybe needy. He’s already leaking precome and he’s flushed pink all over. It’s so much hotter than Steve expected.
He starts slowly, liking the head and using his fingers on the shaft. He wants to explore, to feel everything, wants to memorise every sensation, but then Eddie starts talking and he sort of loses himself to the words.
“Fuck baby, I thought I was going crazy,” Eddie gasps as Steve sucks on the head, “every time you looked at me with those pretty eyes I had to force myself to remember you didn’t want me like that. I thought you only liked girls, thought that’s just how you were.”
Steve swallows a little more, starts bobbing his head, and Eddie pauses to gaps and groan, one of his hands coming to Steve’s neck, and then up into his hair.
“Then you told me you liked guys too and fuck, Stevie, it was like a dream come true,” Steve starts moving his head and mouth at the same time, like he’s had some girls do to him, knows that it feels good. Eddie arches his back, so he thinks he’s going it right.
“I know you’ve been waking up with morning wood for months now,” Eddie suddenly says, gasping it out. Steve freezes, embarrassment crawling up his spine, and he looks up at Eddie with a fair amount of trepidation. But Eddie is only smiling down at him, and his hand starts carding through his hair, encouraging. So Steve starts moving again, slower than before.
“I kept wanting to reach over, help you out,” Steve moans, at the idea and the memory of him doing just that, “but I didn’t want to take the chance, didn’t want to ruin it.”
Steve understands, he’s felt the same way, so he hums and the sensation must be good because Eddie’s back really arches this time, pushing himself into Steve’s mouth a little further, messing up his slow rhythm.
“Last night,” Eddie gasps as Steve picks up the pace. He really likes this, he realises, likes the way Eddie is talking and the feel of him on his tongue and the way it feels like he’s making Eddie lose control a about. “Last night you sucked on my thumb and I nearly came in my pants, Steve.”
Steve moans again, the idea of that very compelling, and suddenly Eddie is tapping his shoulder, pulling on his hair. But Steve doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to pull off. He’s dying to know what this is like, so he just presses closer, goes a little faster, and then he feels it. Eddie comes and the feeling of come in his mouth surprises Steve enough that he opens his mouth in a tiny gasp.
He feels spit and coke dribble down his chin but he doesn’t feel embarrassed or strange. If anything he finds it so hot, possibly the hottest thing so far. He pulls back when Eddie finishes, and keeps eye contact as he slowly licks his lips, sweeping up the spilled come and spit.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes as he watches, his chest heaving and body sensing to skink into the mattress. Steve grins then, feeling proud of himself, and Eddie smiles back.
Steve slowly crawls back up Eddie’s body, presses a kiss over his sternum, and then lays half on and half off Eddie, their faces level.
One of Eddie’s hands comes up to Steve’s cheek and wipes a little, a spurt of come that Steve clearly missed. Before Eddie can pull back and wipe it on the sheet ke something though, Steve leans forward and sucks the finger into his mouth, licks it clean.
“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Eddie’s pupils are blown wide, “you trying to kill me?”
Steve chuckles, let’s Eddie’s finger go with a pop, and then feels his cheeks beat slightly, and ducks his head into Eddie’s shoulder.
He doesn’t know what any of this means and fear is quickly to settle in. He feels Eddie go tense beneath him, and knows reality is probably settling in for him as well
“So,” he tries, voice a little scratchy, “what now?”
Eddie swallows thickly and then rolls a little, onto his side to face Steve. His eyes flicker back and forth from Steve’s, afraid. Something about that settles something within Steve, and he relaxes a bit.
“I really like you,” Steve whispers, because this is a moment for whispers, “I’ve really liked you for months. I’m probably more than half way in love with you by now.”
“Really?” Eddie breathes, a slow smile, the smile he only gives to Steve, blossoming on his face. Steve smiles back.
“Yeah.” He presses forward, touched their lips just slightly, a chaste peck, but it’s enough. Eddie relaxes fully, smiling even wider now.
“I’m probably mostly in love with you too, probably have been since I saw you bite the head off that bat,” they both laugh at that, and Eddie’s hand comes up to brush some hair out of Steve’s face. It’s oddly gentle, intimate even, and he feels a blush coming on.
“What now then?” He asks, nervous flutters in his stomach.
“You asking me to go steady, Stevie boy?” Eddie teases, but Steve can see the vulnerability behind all that. Can see how much want Eddie has inside him.
“Yeah, Eddie, I am,” he says, and feels brave. Feels even better when Eddie pulls him in for a deep kiss, rolling on top of him. He thinks he could definitely get used to this. To all of it.
Turns out, morning wood isn’t so bad when you have a boyfriend who really likes morning sex.