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The Shadows Still Remain (since your descent)

Summary:

Written For the Stranger Things Kinkmeme prompt:

Steve will pay for drugs. Heck, he'll pay double Eddie's asking price. Eddie wants the cash but he also wants 'King' Steve to kneel for him and suck his cock. Steve is outraged (some internalized homophobia would be A+). IDC why Steve is so desperate for the drugs (to look cool in front of his friends? Big party?) but he ends up doing it, very begrudingly, and Eddie is rough with him, degrades him, etc. Steve cries but gets through it. Dark!Eddie (possibly bullied/traumatized Eddie, but still, he's not a Good Guy here) and babyface!sad!pretty!humiliated!angry!Steve.

Notes:

I found a Stranger Things Kinkmeme and have decided I'm going to use it to be a menace to this fandom and to this ship. This is extreme dub-con bordering non-con. Steve is referenced as having vaguely abusive parents. Post-season 1, focusing on Steve's PTSD from the demogorgon being the reason why he's seeking drugs.

Please be aware of the tags and aware of the warnings, you are responsible for your internet reading experience. I'm just a trashy writer. The title of this fic comes from The Saints Are Coming by Skids which is a 70s punk song I felt vaguely fit this fic.

Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Forest Hills Trailer Park was a trashy, miserable place.

Which was self-admittedly one of the most privileged thoughts Steve had this week, and he felt sort of bad about it. There had definitely been a time in his life when he had not an ounce of self-awareness about these sorts of things, viewing poor people as lesser, like they were some kind of weird animal he was watching at a zoo. Steve liked to think he’d had some kind of character arc since then, and he knew better. 

No amount of self-reflection changed how a trailer park looked, though. Dirty, sad, outright just ugly. Steve stuck out, in a bomber jacket that probably cost more than all the clothes on most of the clothes lines strewn across messy yards. 

Steve knew he stuck out, and he knew if he stood around for too long he’d get noticed. And that was the last thing he wanted, in a place like this.

He walked fast, counting trailers. He’d been given shit directions, though Steve was beginning to realize there was really no way to give good directions, around a place as haphazard as this.

The beaten footpath was where he’d been told it would be, and it led Steve winding into the woods, twisting and turning between trees. His heart was beating too fast, for this. There was no way to get lost, not with the path so clear under his feet. 

Steve had bought drugs before.

He was better than acting like some awkward virgin getting his first high off of some bad molly.

“King Harrington himself.”

Steve jumped.

It definitely didn’t help his heart rate, being spooked like that. His reflexes should’ve been better than that. He fought a monster from another dimension. And here he was, jumpy over one little drug dealer.

The person leaning against the tree, smoking and looking Steve up and down was familiar. Steve hadn’t been told who the dealer was, just that he had the best plugs in Hawkins. Steve had hoped, against the odds of a small town, it would be someone he wouldn’t know.

Of course, it wasn’t.

Eddie Munson’s grin was sharp, like a shark circling prey under the warm sun. 

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. He sounded tired. He was, too. It was a poor hope that he’d look tired too, so he wouldn’t come off so skittish. “Yeah, don’t get too excited.”

“Oh, my excitement is barely containable.” Eddie rolled his head back lazily, blowing out a lungful of smoke. Cigarettes felt too light, for a drug dealer. But Steve didn’t feel in the mood for the small talk to comment on it. “You know, I’m honestly surprised it took this long for you to end up on my corner.”

Steve shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Well, Tommy used to be my plug. We had a falling out.”

The snort that came out of Eddie was sharply characteristic of him. “Your gain. Hagan’s stuff is shit.”

“Right, well.” Steve breathed in looking around the woods. Like a demogorgon was about to leap out from behind the trees and swallow them whole. “Here I am. And I don’t feel like small talk, alright? So can we just…” He gestured between them vaguely.

“Can we just what?” Eddie asked, looking Steve up and down. “Come on, Harrington. You can say it. You can say that you’re here to buy drugs from the Freak. ” He dragged the word ‘freak’ out, eyes flashing. 

That was the thing about Eddie Munson. He couldn’t be compared to someone like Jonathan Byers, who was an outcast, sure. But Jonathan was the type of outcast who was content to blend into the shadows, didn’t want Hawkins to notice him. Eddie Munson, though. Eddie walked on tables, ranted about dumb jocks and their preppy cheerleader girlfriends. He demanded attention, he wanted to be sure everyone in their tiny town knew just how weird he was. Long hair, a flashy vest with pins and patches, too many rings and loud boots. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson got his nickname by refusing to be anything else.

He was a senior at Hawkins High, and would probably still be a senior the next year. For all his showboating, he wasn’t the smartest.

He was still an unnerving presence to be around. More off-kilter than Steve had ever realized, being this close to him. Steve had never had to consider Eddie as more than a passing thought before, and now, he was sort of wishing he’d never had to consider Eddie at all.

“I’m here to buy drugs,” Steve ground out, glaring as hard as he could. If he could turn his anxiety into anger, maybe it wouldn’t be so noticeable. 

“Yeah you are,” Eddie smiled. He pulled himself off the tree he was leaning on and took a step forward. Steve resisted the urge to step back, and just took in the scent of tobacco, weed, and a cheap aftershave. “Got a rich boy party coming up?”

Steve sort of wanted to hit him. He wanted to hit himself, even, for having the kind of reputation that Eddie hated. He understood it now, why people hated stupid popular kids. “Something like that, sure.” Whether the drugs were for a party, or to make the panic attacks stop, really wasn’t Eddie’s business. “Look, here.” Steve tugged his hand out of his pocket, where he had a few twenties folded up. “I’ve got places to be.” He didn’t, but anywhere that wasn’t behind a trailer park was a better place than here.

Eddie clicked his tongue, looking at the money like it wasn’t too interesting. “See, I doubt that.” He tilted his head to the side. “You don’t hang around Hagan and his side piece anymore. And your girlfriend, that Wheeler chick, is with Byers more than you. Poor King Steve lost his crown, and his little friends too.” He sounded cartoonish, like some kind of movie villain.

“I have friends,” Steve defended sharply. 

“No.” Eddie waved a hand. “You have people who are nice to you because you’re popular, Harrington. Rich and popular, with your daddy owning half the school board. Cause that’s what it takes, money and a pretty face to be the top dog!” His arms spread wide. He was monologuing, and Steve really hated it when he did that. “Life’s a popularity contest, and people like you rig the game.”

“I will pay you double if you just give me the drugs and leave,” Steve ground out. He didn’t care about Eddie’s wax poetics. Maybe he’d even agree, if he wasn’t wound tight like a spring loaded coil. Not that Eddie would believe Steve agreeing with him, anyway. 

“So eager.” Eddie sounded like he was enjoying all of this too much. “Double, huh? Daddy’s money is really burning a hole in your pockets.”

Steve nodded. He’d heard it all. “Yeah. So can we just-”

“I don’t want your money,” Eddie cut him off, waving a hand so sharply it made Steve jerk backwards, cringing into himself. He hated how quickly Eddie noticed. “Don’t be so jumpy, Harrington.”

“You don’t want my money,” Steve repeated, in disbelief.

Eddie shook his head. “You’re not the only rich jock in Hawkins with a drug problem. I can swindle anyone into overpaying for my goods.” 

Steve looked him up and down. “You live in a trailer park, and you’re really going to turn down money?”

That was a bad thing to say, he realized as soon as it came out of his mouth. Eddie’s look darkened, mouth twisting into something ugly. “So sweet that you care. But I promise you, I’m good at what I do.” He tugged his shirt. “You think tattoos are cheap? I can handle myself, King Steve.” On his chest with a tattoo, black ink making a design Steve didn’t care to make out.

“No one actually calls me that.”

“Maybe not to your face.” Eddie shrugged. He clapped his hands together and cleared his throat. “So! Here’s the deal. I could turn you away, for being a grade-A prick. But I’m feeling charitable today.” His smile. Steve really was starting to not like that smile, and the look in Eddie’s eyes it came with. “Maybe, we can do a trade.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You said it. All I’ve got going for me is my money. What else could I give, Munson?”

“I didn’t say just money,” Eddie corrected. He took another step forward and reached forward, fingers just barely touching Steve’s jaw. “Pretty face, Harrington. That’s your other asset.” He let out a long sigh and studied Steve, pretending to think hard. “Not that I’ve ever liked you, but I always understood why all the girls stare.”

Steve’s throat closed around any words he could’ve said. Not that he really knew what to say. He just stared into those predatory eyes.

“Tell you what, Harrington,” Eddie downright purred. “You get on your knees, suck me off. We’ll call it even. I think one blowjob, it’s a fair trade.”

The words were a punch to the throat, and Steve snapped his head away from Eddie’s hand. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eddie said. “For a lot of reasons. But not for wanting the King of Hawkins to have his pretty lips around my cock.”

Steve wanted to throw up.

He’d heard the rumors, about Eddie. That Eddie was some kind of queer. That his body count was more dick than pussy, and he went out cruising around the edge of Hawkins to fuck pretty boys from the city. Steve didn’t care about the rumors. People could fuck around with who they wanted to, at the end of the day. But Steve, he wasn’t-

“I’m not gay,” Steve spat out. The anxiety was back, and there was no hiding it when it made his voice shake and hands clench. “That’s disgusting.” The thought of being with a guy twisted Steve’s gut. Reminded him of the time his father held him against the wall and told him if he ever ruined the Harrington reputation with ‘fairy shit’, that he would get kicked out. That no son of his would ever be a fucking queer.

Steve wasn’t a queer. He liked girls. He liked Nancy. He knew that for a fact. Liking girls was easy and simple, a part of himself that made sense. It was fine if someone like Eddie wanted to fuck around with guys. But Steve wasn’t someone like Eddie. He was well put together, he was normal. In ten years, he’d have a nuclear family and a white-picket fence. 

He wouldn’t be the type of person to get on his knees for drugs. 

“Oh, sure you aren’t,” Eddie mocked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. “You don’t stare at Byers at all. Or any of your basketball friends.”

“I don’t,” Steve choked out. “Fuck you, Munson.”

Eddie just laughed. “Oh, come on. You get any deeper in the closet, Harrington, you’re gonna get lost. Takes one to know one, doesn’t it? I can smell it on you a mile away!”

“Well you’re wrong,” Steve ground out. “And I’m not sucking your dick.”

“Then you’re not getting your drugs.” Eddie shrugged. He was so confident and cool about it. 

Steve swallowed. His chest hurt and his hands were shaking. It’d been two weeks since he’d slept a full night, and that was when he took his mother’s leftover medication he found in the bathroom cabinet. And that ran out. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as can be.”

“Triple,” Steve offered. 

“You have that much on you, Harrington?” Eddie arched an eyebrow, and snorted when Steve nodded. “Not very safe, big boy. You want to get jumped?” Eddie lowered his voice, leaning forward. “You’re asking for it, practically. All pretty, hair dolled up like that. Poor little Steve Harrington.”

Steve pushed him back. Tried to, at least. Eddie grabbed his wrist and stopped the motion, then wouldn’t let the wrist go. “I can handle myself.”

“You’re shaking in your boots,” Eddie shot back. “You’d fold like a stack of cards.”

He didn’t know Steve. Steve reminded himself of that. Eddie didn’t know the type of person Steve was, the things he’d faced. He had no idea who Steve was, and every single one of his assumptions had been wrong so far. 

All of them. If Steve kept telling himself that, it was true. He knew it was true. He wasn’t some brain dead popular jock, he wasn’t a coward. And he wasn’t fucking gay.

“I’ll just go somewhere else,” Steve said coldly. “Tommy might hate me, but he’ll take the money.” He tried to word it as a threat.

“Go ahead.” Eddie shrugged. “You want his shit, be my guest. You’re the one who’ll have to deal with bad trips and weak drugs that you don’t even know what they’re cut with.” He was grinning again, that cheshire cat smile.

Steve hated that he was sort of considering it. He hated even more than Eddie could see the weakness in his eyes, that he’d latched onto the resignation. Eddie thought he’d already won. 

Was he wrong?

“Just a blowjob?” Steve swallowed down his anxiety, and his pride. 

“One blowjob.” Eddie held up his hands. “Pinky promise. I’ll even sweeten the deal. You’re anxious, Harrington. I can throw some other stuff in. I know what stuff is good to help with that.”

Steve paused. “Would it help me sleep at night?”

“Sure.” Eddie nodded. “Like a baby. You won’t even remember your dreams.” He squinted a bit. “Or nightmares, if those are what’s got you all flighty.”

He was too good at reading Steve, and it made Steve’s skin crawl.

Steve let out a slow, pained sigh. “Do we have to- here?”

“No one comes back here.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “They know better.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “And hey, the quicker you get on your knees, the less likely someone is to see, hm?”

Steve didn’t have it in him, to verbally agree. To admit out loud, that he was willing to do this. That he really was this type of person.

“Don’t let this go to your head, alright?” Steve glared at him, and slowly sank down. He hoped, belatedly, that the forest ground wouldn’t muddy his jeans. “I’m still not gay.”

“Oh, it’s already too late.” Eddie looked down at him like some kind of merciless god. “King Steve, on his knees for me. Stupid little jock, finally put in his goddamned place.” He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, messing up the style and scraping his fingernails against Steve’s scalp.

Steve was going to be sick. He swallowed down the bitterness in his throat. 

The belt Eddie had on was thick with a complicated clasp. Eddie didn’t help Steve with it, just kept idly playing with his hair while Steve struggled against the belt. Even against Steve’s shaky fingers, the belt finally gave in with a sharp tug. 

“Eager,” Eddie murmured, and Steve really hoped Eddie wasn’t going to be running his mouth the whole time. “You ever sucked dick before?”

Steve couldn’t get words out of his throat, so he just shook his head and refused eye contact, undoing the button and zipper of Eddie’s jeans. 

“First time for everyone,” Eddie clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry, big boy. I’ll help you through it. Can’t promise I’ll be nice though.” His grip on Steve’s hair tightened so much it hurt, and a sad little wince came out of Steve’s throat. “That’d ruin half the fun of putting you in your place. All high and mighty, making fun of the guys on the bottom. Guys like me.”

“I never made fun of you,” Steve couldn’t stop his defense. He hadn’t, he knew that. He’d made fun of easier targets, sure. But never Eddie. 

“But you sure laughed when your friends did,” Eddie snapped out. “It’s all the same, Harrington. Just because you slum it with Byers and Wheeler now, doesn’t erase the years you spent stepping on anyone you thought was beneath you. People like me.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said and despite the situation, he really meant it. Eddie might’ve been an asshole for this, but no one deserved the vitriol that Steve used to be so fine with spewing. 

Eddie laughed. “Oh, I know you are. I’ve seen your little change of heart. You’re making it up to me now, sweetheart. Water under the bridge.”

Steve doubted that. Eddie wasn’t the type to forget or forgive. 

Once Eddie’s jeans were open, Steve felt a little dizzy. A little detached from his body, like he wasn’t controlling it anymore. He was just watching himself pull Eddie’s pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to fall out, an inch from Steve’s face. 

“It’s not gonna bite you,” Eddie hummed. “I bite. My dick doesn’t.”

Maybe it didn’t bite, but it was big. Steve didn’t like how big Eddie was, and he was barely half-hard. He didn’t know much about sucking dick, but he knew enough to understand how shitty of a time fitting that in his mouth was going to be. 

“Oh, I know baby,” Eddoe cooed, soft and mocking. “But, like I said. I’ll help you through it.” HIs voice was gentle, but his grip was tight and unforgiving, yanking Steve towards his dick. 

“I’m going,” Steve hissed. “Just- give me a second.”

He didn’t want to touch Eddie’s dick. Didn’t want this to be more weird and gay than it alread was. But, maybe using his hands would be easier. He at least knew how to jerk off a dick. That was simple enough.

It was too late to back out now.

Steve took in a breath and leaned forward. He wrapped his hand around the base of Eddie’s dick and licked at the head before he could talk himself out of it. The first touch was going to be the hardest. It’d get easier after that. Hopefully.

It was maybe a miracle, maybe a blessing, that Eddie was cleaner than he looked. Besides the weird salty taste, it just tasted like skin underneath his tongue. The texture was weird, but the taste was fine. Steve tried not to think too hard about the fact that dick tasted better than pussy.

He thought vaguely about how girls had sucked him off, and what felt good. Steve ran his tongue over Eddie’s dick, from base to tip, using pressure and sucking at the tip. 

A deep groan came out of Eddie. “See? Not so hard. You were fucking made for this.”

Steve wasn’t. Steve was a good, normal person. This wasn’t him. This was just an anomaly in his life. Like fighting monsters. Something that’d get left in the past, as a weird memory that wouldn’t feel real after a few days.

He wasn’t given the chance to slowly work his way up to taking more in his mouth. The moment Steve was going to move up Eddie’s dick, the hand in his hair yanked at him hard, forcing more in Steve’s mouth than he was ready for.

Steve gagged. Nearly threw up, yanking away hard when Eddie’s dick hit the back of his throat. “Fuck you,” he rasped out, grabbing his throat and rubbing it. He coughed a few times, trying to blink the tears out of his eyes. He wasn’t going to give Eddie the satisfaction of seeing Steve cry.

“I was just helping,” Eddie purred. “Gotta break you in like a proper bitch.”

Steve violently shook his head. “No. I’m not… don’t make this like that.”

“Too late.” Eddie gave Steve’s hair a warning tug. “Come on, King Steve. You’re gonna take my dick down your throat one way or another.”

“Stop calling me that,” Steve snapped out. He hated that nickname. He hated it more when it was Eddie using it.

Eddie just laughed. Steve ignored it.

He took a steadying breath. Eddie was completely hard now, right in front of Steve’s face. This time, taking his cock in Steve’s mouth was easier. It hurt Steve’s jaw, and distantly he had the thought that he was never going to make a girl give him a blowjob again. This fucking sucked. 

Steve went as deep as he could, until it hit the back of his throat. He pulled back and breathed in, then went back down again. Back and forth, trying to find a rhythm, using his hand on the half that his mouth couldn’t reach. 

“It helps if you swallow,” Eddie offered, like it was some kind of lazy advice. “Swallow when it hits the back of your throat. Cockslut 101.” 

Steve considered flipping Eddie the bird, but didn’t want his face slammed down on Eddie’s dick again, so he just glared up at Eddie. 

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” Eddie murmured. “Really makes up for your shit personality.”

The insults hurt more than they should’ve. Eddie didn’t know shit about Steve. Steve had faced down all sorts of things that Eddie could never even imagine. Maybe Steve was a worthless asshole. But he didn’t need to be reminded of it by some freak who didn’t know his life from jack.

Steve still took his advice, and swallowed the next time he went down, forcing more into his mouth, and then down his throat. He didn’t take the whole thing, but he got somewhere. 

“ Fuck ,” Eddie’s moan was breathy, “I was so fucking right, you were made for this. Knew you’d be a dream if I got you on your knees.”

He planned this.

Oh.

The tears Steve had managed to hold back, even with a dick down his throat, started to fall. Steve had wanted this to be clean. Didn’t let spit run down his face. He’d always hated how messy head could get, and he didn’t want any of this to leave a mark. But now, now there were tears running down his face. Eddie had planned to get Steve like this from the moment he knew Steve was buying drugs from him. 

Steve was nothing but a hole to fuck, to Eddie fucking Munson. 

He’d been objectified before, sure. And it got him laid, with pretty girls too. It wasn’t the worst thing. He could benefit from it, if he played his cards right. But this was different than that. This stung, deep in his chest. Reminded him of all those times his father said he wasn’t good for anything. 

“Oh, now you’re spoiling me.” Eddie wiped at a tear sliding down Steve’s face. “It’s a damned crime, you’re this pretty when you cry.”

If Steve didn’t have a dick in his mouth, he’d be biting out nasty insults. 

Maybe. Or maybe he’d be crying on the ground, useless and weak. As it was, that’s what he wanted to be doing.

Fuck this. Fuck Eddie Munson. 

Steve tried to go faster. Tried to get Eddie off, so he could go home, throw up in a toilet, shower, and go the fuck to sleep for once.

It backfired on him, hard. He tried to force more down his throat than he was ready for and gagged, choking on it. Trying to pull off didn’t help, Eddie just held him there, choking on his dick. 

“You have no idea how good that feels,” Eddie groaned, “when you choke on my dick like that.”

Steve couldn’t breathe. He tried to struggle, putting a hand on Eddie’s thigh to push him back. He thought he was stronger than Eddie. He really should’ve been. But Steve was panicking and had no oxygen, so Eddie had the upperhand in just holding him there.

“What’s the matter, King Steve?” Eddie’s voice was rough. “Can’t breathe?” He taunted. “Tell you what. You get my whole dick in your throat, and I’ll let you breathe. I know you’ve got nothing in your fucking skull, but I’m sure you can manage it, yeah?”

Steve hated him. Hated him so much it brought a fresh wave of tears and a panicked noise out of his throat. 

“I will let you pass out on my dick,” Eddie warned. “I really don’t care, sweetheart. I can be a lot meaner than this.”

Steve believed him.

Pushing down more hurt. It made him gag harder, fighting every instinct in his body to struggle and pull off. To get up and run out of the woods and never visit the stupid trailer park again. 

He’d gotten this far.

Steve’s lungs burned and his throat screamed at him, but he got all the way down, nose buried in curly and dark pubic hair. He moved his hand to loosely hold Eddie’s hip instead, grounding him to the present.

“Good boy,” Eddie’s praise was deceivingly sweet, and Steve hated what it did to his chest. “You make a great slut. Pretty little thing.”

He kept his promise, at least. Eddie didn’t let go of Steve’s hair, but the grip loosened enough for Steve to pull back just as his vision went fuzzy. Steve pulled all the way off, gasping. He tilted his head back, eyes closing as he tried to stabilize himself. 

“Aren’t you a sight.” Eddie’s other hand was stroking Steve’s cheek, with the backs of his fingers. Steve could feel the cold metal of Eddie’s rings against his skin. It was grounding, in a weird sort of way.

Steve didn’t expect the slap.

His head jerked back and he groaned, face twisting up.

“Don’t,” Steve hissed. “You can throw me around. But don’t slap.”

His mother slapped him. Steve could deal with his father’s violence and cold words, but his mother, it was always worse. Being slapped was cold and biting, a deep reminder that Steve couldn’t even do the simplest things.

“Aw,” Eddie’s tone was cruel. “King Steve’s got some trauma, huh? Mommy and daddy don’t love you, so they hit you instead?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie promised. “I can do both. Makes it more fun, when love is violent.” A knee came up, hitting Steve right underneath his ribs. He groaned, tried to double over. Eddie’s grip on his hair kept him upright, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was thankful for that, or resented it.

The pain bloomed through his chest and stomach. Steve’s head hurt, and every part of his body was screaming in different ways. 

He was out of responses. Didn’t want to keep fighting and arguing. Eddie sounded close, when Steve was on his dick. He was so close to all this being over.

Steve took Eddie’s dick in his throat again. Closed his eyes and went all the way down. He didn’t even gag this time. Just sank down on Eddie’s dick and found his rhythm again.

“Open your eyes,” Eddie ordered. “I wanna see you look at me. Wanna see those pretty brown eyes all broken and empty.”

He wasn’t wrong. Steve was broken. Always had been, probably.

Steve looked up, looking at Eddie’s face. Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was Steve’s broken resolve. But from the angle, Eddie was almost sort of handsome. In a fucked up way.

Just as fucked up as Steve was.

“Just like that,” Eddie’s hips were jerking in time with Steve’s rhythm, forcing him to keep up with it so he didn’t end up with Eddie’s dick rammed too hard down his throat. It was hard to figure out the breathing, but he got it eventually. “You might be stupid and mean, but you really make a great bitch.”

Steve wanted to shake his head. But he didn’t. Just choked on a whimper.

“Don’t fight it.” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s throat. “It’s a good look on you. I’d keep you like this, if I could. My personal fucking fleshlight.” He started pulling Steve up and down his dick faster. Steve gagged, not that it did much good. “Fuck.” Eddie’s thrusts were getting sloppy, uneven. “This is what you deserve, King fucking Steve. Don’t forget it. You’re just a whore for my dick. Now, swallow.”

That was all the warning he got before Eddie came. Eddie’s groan was loud and deep, holding Steve down on his dick again. Steve swallowed, because there wasn’t anything else he could do. And choking on Eddie’s cum sounded like it would be miserable. 

Eddie had a long orgasm. Or maybe Steve’s perspective was just skewed, since he couldn’t breathe. Eddie’s grip on his hair was bruisingly painful and uncaring. Steve was just a fleshlight to Eddie. Nothing else.

He was worth something, at least. It was a morbid idea, but Steve couldn’t argue against it.

When Eddie let go, Steve’s head was foggy with static. He half collapsed, resting his forehead on Eddie’s hipbone for some kind of balance. Steve was pretty sure he would fall over if he didn’t. 

They stayed like that, for an amount of time that was impossible for Steve to gauge. Panting in the woods, with the smell of sex in the air. Steve was glad, he didn’t have it in him to think. If he could think, he’d hate himself. He’d feel awkward and disgusted. The emptiness wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either. It just was.

The moment died, though.

Eddie peeled Steve off of him. Steve blinked back into reality, watching Eddie tuck his soft dick into his pants. He was aware now, too aware. Aware of his sore throat, aware of the ground underneath. Aware of the pain in his chest and his head. Everything about his skin felt too wrong, and he wanted to fucking crawl out of it.

Instead, Steve just pushed himself to his feet. Tried to fix his hair, a little bit. Brushed the dirt off his knees.

“You’re not half bad, Harrington,” Eddie said, sounding breathless. He wasn’t as rough and degrading now, just pleasant in his post-orgasm high. 

“Can’t say the same for you.” It hurt to talk, and Steve coughed into his arm.

Eddie just laughed. “Yeah, I’m a fucking freak, aren’t I? But hey.” He reached into his pocket. “A deal’s a deal. Don’t say I don’t keep my word.” He pulled out one baggie, then another one. “The white pills. Those will help you sleep.”

Steve snatched them out of his hand. Shoved the bags into his pocket, before Eddie could decide against it.

“Are we done here?” Steve asked coldly.

“Sure.” Eddie shrugged. “Though, hang on, actually.” He rooted around in a different pocket, and yanked out a pen. Before Steve could ask, Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist. He pushed Steve’s sleeve up and twisted his arm around, writing on Steve’s forearm. “That…” Eddie said as he wrote, “is my number. So you know where to find me, when you need your next fix.” He finished writing, but didn’t let go, grinning at Steve. “I'll make sure I've got the good shit on hand, just for King Steve.”

Steve yanked his arm away. “We'll see.” It was the only answer he could think of.

“Next time we can even meet at your place,” Eddie was leering at him. “I'm real nice, Harrington. If I fuck you in the ass, I'll do it in a bed.”

Steve fought the churning in his stomach. “Not happening. This was a one-time thing.” It needed to be a one-time thing. Because Steve wasn't gay. And he didn't do stuff like this. He wasn't desperate.

“Sure.” Eddie didn't sound convinced. “I'lll see you around, Harrington.”

Eddie gave him a final grin, then wandered off. Steve just stood and watched him leave, disappearing into the woods.

It took a moment for Steve to collect himself. Wipe his face, fix his hair again. His jeans were mud-stained. Steve knew he looked like a mess. He felt worse.

Steve power walked back to his car. Kept his head down, avoided any stares. He didn't pause once, didn't give himself a chance to stop until he was speeding home and then climbing into bed. Steve swallowed one of the white pills dry. He didn't have it in him to shower, or even brush his teeth. He just laid down, with the taste of Eddie's cum still in his mouth. 

He started at the wall, thinking about absolutely nothing. The static was back in his brain, taking him over.

Steve fell asleep, and didn't have a single nightmare about the monsters of Hawkins.

Notes:

I'm not sure if I want to continue this, but the thought does vaguely intrigue me. There are other prompts on the kinkmeme I want to pursue first, and if I get through those in one piece, I might wander over back to this brain worm. Leave a comment if you liked it, or leave a comment if you didn't. Hate comments feed my final form.