Chapter Text
EDDIE
They bring Mama Henderson home a week later with strict rehab instructions and a slew of follow-up appointments. Steve, Dustin, and Lucas do most of the listening, but Eddie tries. All in all, it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.
He already told his bandmates he's gonna be taking a little more time to sort things out in his shitty hometown because he loves Claudia. In a lot of ways, she’s the closest thing to a mother figure he’s ever had. He plans to talk to the hospital about the cost of her care but, surprise , of course, Steve’s two steps ahead of him. He’d be surprised if the Hendersons ever saw a bill at all.
And, of course, Steve can’t fucking help himself. He badgers Dustin into agreeing that he and Claudia would recover best at the old Harrington house because why the fuck not. Apparently, that’s where Robin’s been the whole time, primping and preening and playing housewife.
Okay.
Chill.
That’s not fair, and Eddie knows that. Robin would absolutely pulverize him if he even said a hint of that to her face. He goes back and forth. Picking at Steve. Picking at Robin. Trying to figure out who’s more to blame for the ache in his chest that’s existed since they said “ I do .”
Is that bitter?
It’s bitter, right?
Eddie knows he’s not special. He’s not the first awkward outcast to fall for the pretty boy. The Prince Charming. The jock . He wants to vomit just thinking about it. 19-year-old Eddie would vomit if he could hear it. Harrington? Harrington ?
Harrington.
It was inevitable, wasn't it? After Steve dragged him, ripped up and bloody from certain death. After hell opened up and spilled out into Hawkins. After a borderline bald little girl shoved it all right back from where it came. He was lost from the first time he found himself curled up in Steve Harrington's bed, still trembling from a nightmare. He couldn't risk keeping Wayne up at night, so when Steve offered his guestroom, who was he to say no?
And when Eddie tossed and turned sleeping alone? Who was he to say no to the offer to share the King's bed?
Becoming friends with Robin kind of happened by accident. Sure, they knew each other from school, but he never had a real reason to keep up with the band kids besides waiting for Gareth after practice. Seeing her run off to keep pace with Harrington was…something. Getting to know her? Robin was amazing . Funny and bright and just the kind of friend Eddie had been missing.
At the time, he thought he’d recognized a bit of himself in her. The shameful secret parts. The part that nearly got him killed.
A kindred spirit. A fellow freak .
But no.
He’d thought he’d been the only one sneaking glances at Harrington when no one was looking. Apparently not.
And the worst part? The worst part?
He gets it. Fuck, if Steve had ever caught him looking, had ever even vaguely looked back, Eddie would’ve taken the plunge.
That’s why he can’t face her. Robin’s an actress, for fuck’s sake. She’s successful. All the shit they talked about. All the dreams they cooked up in the dark of the night, curled up in Steve’s way too massive bed. All Eddie’s wanted to do is see her on Broadway. Watch her on fucking TV (holy shit Robin’s on TV ), but he can’t. How do you face someone who’s supposed to be your best friend when you’ve fantasized about deepthroating her husband?
Yeah. Better to just cut ties.
At least it was.
It certainly doesn’t feel like the better option when he’s sitting on Dustin’s bed watching the kid pack himself a bag to take to Steve’s so he can stay near his mom.
And if Eddie’s gonna look in on Dustin, he’s gonna be looking in on Steve and Robin too.
Fuck.
“You’ve got that look on your face.” Dustin’s voice pulls him out of the nasty pit he was headed towards.
“You calling me ugly, Henderson? How insensitive! You know I was in a terrible accident—”
“Fuck you and help me look for the rest of my socks, asshole,” Dustin says with a roll of his eyes. “Least you can do since you left me in this shithole.”
“Ouch. Okay. I’ll let that slide given recent events, but maybe consider that being in Hawkins wasn’t exactly good for my health at the time, you know. Just a thought,” Eddie says mildly.
Dustin's face crumples at the reminder.
“That's not–that's not what I meant, Eddie.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Dustin’s focused on him now, his bag sitting forgotten at his feet. “We missed you, Eddie. We still miss you. I miss you.”
Fuck. “Dustin…look kid–”
“Not a kid–”
“Look, kid. I never meant to leave you, okay? Seriously. I just—I couldn't stay here. Not after everything that happened. And I’m the one who’s responsible for Wayne. I’m literally all he has so, I couldn’t leave him here either. I knew I’d figure out a way to get in contact with everyone again, later, but if I stayed? I wouldn’t have survived it. I would’ve killed myself before I ever let the people in this town get their hands on me again. I did what I had to do. It’s crazy because I know I’m sorry it hurt you and I know if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change much. I would still leave.” Eddie pulls Dustin close when the kid starts to cry. “And then I would still trek all over that stupid campus to come and find you. I would still come back to a place I fucking hate to make sure you and your mom are okay. I will always do my best to make sure you’re okay because I fucking love you, kid. ”
“I know you do,” Dustin hiccups into Eddie’s shoulder. “And I know you had to go. I’m sorry, I’m a fucking mess right now.”
“I’d be concerned if you weren’t.” Eddie just squeezes Dustin tighter. “But you’re not gonna stay a mess.” He kisses the top of Dustin’s head and pulls away. “Now finish packing your shit. We’ve got an early Christmas dinner to get to.”
He turns his head as Dustin hastily wipes at his face. Better to give the kid at least the illusion of privacy, sheesh .
- break -
Well, Steve still knows how to throw a party, that’s for sure. For once, the Harrington house feels less like a tomb and more of a place where an actual family (who knows what the Harrington’s had going on) could live. It’s festive with a capital ‘F’ with garland and string lights and literal boughs of holly .
Eddie will not turn around and run. He will go in. He will sit down at the Harrington’s old, stupidly long formal dining room table. He will not avoid eye contact with either Steve or Robin. He will not act like a coward.
Okay.
So maybe that last part is a lie.
Maybe he’ll trade seats with Mike so he’s on the same side of the table as Robin and Steve (Claudia’s at the head in her new wheelchair), and he doesn’t have to look across the provided spread at them. Maybe he’ll instruct Will to pour just a little bit more into his wine glass.
“We need to get an electrician out here, but we’ve got most everything back up and working. And we have to thank Joyce and Hopper for looking in on the place for us,” Steve is saying as he tips his glass towards Joyce. “And I’m glad you all seem to be enjoying dinner.”
“You should’ve let me help, Steve—” Claudia tries to say.
“Absolutely not—”
“Mom, you just got out of the hospital—”
“You’re supposed to be resting , Claud—”
“Don’t think I did too much work, Mrs. Henderson. What I didn’t have time to cook myself, we got catered. Rob and Will picked everything in our order this morning, so if the potatoes are underseasoned, I accept no responsibility,” Steve laughs cheerily as he knocks shoulders with Robin, his wife .
God, Eddie’s still not used to that.
“Can you believe he made me drive all the way to Indi two days before Christmas?” Robin says with a bright laugh. The table jeers goodnaturedly, but Steve’s not one to be deterred.
“Oh my god, Rob, it’s an hour— ”
“90 minutes with traffic!”
“Criminal!”
“I can’t believe you’re such a taskmaster, Steve!”
“You can’t?”
“I don’t think you get dessert behaving like that, Harrington,” Hopper passes him the bottle of Scotch they’ve been trading back and forth. “Trust me. I know.”
“Oh no,” Steve laughs, “I worked all day on those pies. If I don’t get a slice, no one does!” Steve manages to dodge a broccoli floret meant for his head. “I teach littles, Wheeler. You’ll have to be faster than that. And no pie for you!”
Now it’s Mike's turn to be ribbed, and the rest of the night moves on. In terms of Christmas dinners Eddie’s attended, it might still be the best.
And maybe he’s like…a masochist or something because he lets himself linger when they start clearing plates for dessert. Could he go back to his hotel? Sure! But he could also enjoy a homemade lemon meringue pie and shoot the shit with the kids.
And maybe he stays after the kids leave to enjoy a drink with the adults. He hasn’t seen Nancy or Jonathan in years either (he doesn’t particularly want to, but give him a break).
And then Nancy and Jonathan are leaving, and Eddie’s still holding a rocks glass, wondering how the hell he ended up alone in a house with the two people he’s been trying to avoid.
With Dustin and his mom calling it a night, it’s just the three of them. When Robin decides she’s also too tired and drunk, it’s just the two of them.
Hm.
“Thanks for coming tonight, Eds,” Steve says after a quiet moment. They’re standing in the foyer. Eddie knows he needs to pull on his coat and call a cab, but he’s never met a bad idea he wasn’t willing to at least shake hands with.
Steve’s still talking. “I hope it wasn’t too mainstream for you?”
Eddie grins. “Not gonna lie, it was a little Rockefeller, but hey. ‘Tis the damn season. I guess I’ll allow it,”
“Oh yeah?” There’s a moment where Steve glances at something above Eddie's head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I guess it is the season.”
What the fuck.
Eddie looks up and—
Oh.
Oh no.
Who the fuck still puts out mistletoe?
When Steve kisses him, for one moment, Eddie feels nothing but pure, unadulterated bliss . It's better than he imagined (and he’s imagined it often ). Eddie hauls him in close, slots their lips together again and again , and breathes him in. Who needs to breathe? Not him. All he needs is this.
Steve feels solid against him, his hands warm as slide under the fabric of Eddie’s shirt to meet flesh. Eddie shivers at the touch. God, he’s acting like a fucking virgin, but it might just be worth it.
He groans when Steve’s fingers twine in his hair and tug . Lightning races up Eddie’s spine at the sensation, the little whisps of pain crackling against his nerves. He feels giddy . He feels alive .
He whines in protest when Steve pulls away but quickly learns to shut the fuck up when he feels Steve’s lips start to creep toward his neck. Shit. This is happening. Steve’s lips find the hinge of his jaw, and Eddie nearly swoons at the hint of teeth. He’s wondered what Steve would be like. From what he remembers, Steve always seemed like the type to make love, but it’s been years. Maybe he’s learned how to fuck . Hell, Eddie might want both now.
Eddie can’t go another moment without his tongue in Steve’s mouth, so he grips the sides of his face and pulls him in. Steve seems all too happy with the change of arrangement. Eddie licks his way into Steve’s mouth and takes his time. Explores every little nook and cranny. Eddie wants. God, does Eddie want . It takes everything in him not to whine when Steve pulls away again.
His pretty pink lips and chin are shiny and slick with spit. His hair’s all over his head, messed up from Eddie getting his hands in it. He looks high, eyes half-lidded and blurry. Who knew Harrington was such a lightweight? A little necking, and he's already fucked out.
“We should—we should go upstairs,” Steve pants.
Obviously.
Except—
Wait.
He stills his hands, drops them from their respective places on Steve's hips.
“Why’d you stop?” Steve asks, and he curls closer before Eddie can stop him.
Fuck. Fuck ! Upstairs ? Up to where Robin’s probably sleeping? What are they gonna do, fuck next to her on the bed? Eddie feels like he’s going to explode .
"What the fuck, Steve?! Fuck! I can't believe I just fucking did that holy shit. Robin’s gonna beat the shit outta me, and I have to let her because what the fuck was that ?"
"Eddie, please calm down–"
"Calm down?! You just cheated on your wife! Oh my god, I just helped you cheat on Robin. Robin ! She's like the nicest person we know, and I've been lusting after her husband like an asshole, and I just helped you cheat on her . I might be the worst person I know. Fuck, you might be worse.”
“Eddie, you gotta stop. It’s not–it’s not like that!” And Steve is laughing . Eddie wants to choke him out because what the hell is funny about this situation?
STEVE
Steve can’t help but laugh, even when Eddie makes a face like he’s going to punch him. “Eds, Robin and I are just…we’re just friends . Married friends but friends .” And it feels like a release to admit it. Like more than a confession. Something somehow holier.
Eddie’s clearly not buying it, though. He’s got that look on his face. The one where it’s clear he’s piecing things together and coming to a wildly different conclusion than Steve. “Then why the fuck are you married ?” He demands.
“It’s…it’s complicated. Some stuff I can’t get into without talking to her first, but mainly, she wanted to leave Hawkins, and her parents weren’t gonna let her do that without a husband. You remember how they were.”
“You’re still married!”
“It makes taxes easier,” Steve shrugs. “And keeps the moms off me at my job. Keeps people from harassing her about her love life in interviews. Honestly, it’s made a lot of things easier for me.”
Eddie keeps shaking his head and biting his lip like he can’t believe a single thing he’s hearing.
“I’m a lot of things, Steve,” he says, “but I’m not a homewrecker. That’s…that’s way outside what I’m okay with.”
Okay, this? This, Steve can handle. “I understand. We had to have this talk with…Robin’s person too when they started their relationship.”
Eddie lets out an incredulous noise. “Robin’s person . Robin has someone on the side, and you’re just…cool with it?”
“Yes, because we’re not actually married,” Steve says again, just to be clear. “I mean, we are on paper, but we sleep in separate rooms and everything, dude. If anything, I’m the side piece.” And Steve can’t help but laugh. “I promise you’re not doing anything wrong, Eddie. No homewrecking.”
But Eddie’s shaking his head.
“I can’t–I can’t do this right now. I gotta leave.”
And that hurts. It hurts a lot more than Steve thought it would, even though he should be used to Eddie leaving by now. He nods his head and withdraws. Watches as Eddie hastily pulls his coat on.
“Um, can I—can you—I’ve been drinking, and I don’t want to—” Eddie starts awkwardly moving closer and closer to the door.
“Sure! I’ll call you a cab,” Steve says gently. He leaves Eddie standing in the doorway. Clearly he needs space.
EDDIE
Eddie wants to wither away and die. This is worse. This is worse! It was hard enough craving Steve when he only had his imagination to draw from, but now he knows . He knows how Steve sounds. How he tastes .
He will not beat off to thoughts about his married friend whom he made out with while married . Not until he talks to Robin first. He wants to trust Steve, wants to believe that he's telling the truth, but it's all too perfect. Too absurd.
And Eddie has never been lucky a day in his life. He roots around in his jacket pocket. His cigarettes have to be in there somewhere. It’s either a cigarette or masturbation, and only one of those is going to evoke absolutely backbreaking shame.
He still hasn’t found his cigarettes when he hears a knock at the door. Housekeeping? Maybe the front desk has cigarettes?
He’s preparing himself to bat his eyelashes and plead when opens the door to his worst nightmare.
“You the reason my husband looks like someone kicked his puppy?” Robin says. She’s dressed casually in a winter coat and jeans with a brown paper bag tucked under her arm. “A thousand puppies, even? It's pathetic, Eddie. I thought Steve finally getting in someone's pants would make him more fun, not less. ”
Eddie's still stuck on the word husband . “Robin, I–I’m so fucking sorry. I can't believe I did that to you.”
Robin shrugs and shoulders her way into his hotel room. “Did what? Eddie, I already talked to Steve. I know he told you what we've got going on. I’m all too happy to see Steve finally put himself out there. He could’ve picked better, though. This place have glasses?”
She starts rummaging through the cabinets. “Having only rocks glasses should be a crime. If I put a martini in this, will you be mad? Wait, who cares? You’re a shithead, so you deserve a shitty martini in a shitty glass.” She grabs two glasses from the cabinet and goes about emptying the brown paper bag. Surprise, it’s all liquor.
“I’m so confused. You’re not mad about what happened with me and Steve, but you are mad about what happened with me and Steve.” He winces when she leaves the ice in his drink. Disgusting.
“No, I’m mad it took you so long to get your shit together when it comes to Steve. I’m mad that I haven’t seen heads or tails of you in years, Eddie. I’m mad that you said ‘see you later’ when you hugged me at my wedding and decidedly did not see me later. I’m mad because you’re kind of a bitch for that. I’m mad because I still consider you one of my best fucking friends, and I still want to strangle you! So here! Take your watered-down martini and be happy I don’t throw it in your face.” She shoves the drink his way, crosses her arms, and stares.
Eddie takes the drink. He downs it in one go. It’s absolutely fucking disgusting.
“That was awful,” he says after a cough.
“You’re awful. But you’re my friend, so I forgive you because Steve?” She says seriously. “Steve deserves to be fucking happy, and I get the feeling that if you pull your shit together, you two might actually get to have something. He’s been waiting on you, you know.”
“Robbie…Robin…I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn't want to hurt you or Steve, I…I couldn’t take it anymore.” And to his tremendous embarrassment, Eddie realizes he’s crying . He wipes at his cheeks. “And when I saw you two together, I knew it was only a matter of time before I was on my own again. You two got married in, like, two weeks . How was I supposed to compete with that?”
Robin thumps him hard on the shoulder. And then she thumps him again. She’s crying too, he realizes. Great. Now they’re both a mess.
“ You’re so fucking stupid! ” She yells. “And I'm still so fucking mad at you. We really needed you, you know? I mean, we had each other, and that was great , but we really needed you, Eds. And not just Steve. I needed you too.” She takes a deep breath. “And I know why you left, Eddie. I understood that part. But cutting us off? That was cruel.”
In hindsight, it was.
“You’re right. I should’ve said something. It all just hurt so much, and I couldn’t take it, so I ran. But things have changed.”
“Oh? You’ve suddenly had a change of heart?” Robin scoffs. She uncaps the bottle of gin and takes a gulp like an absolute animal.
“No,” Eddie says with a wet chuckle, “I’ve just finally gotten the chance to have Steve Harrington. And I’m not walking away from that for anything.”
Robin audibly gags. “Gross. Gross . You two are gonna be so fucking disgusting. Sarah and I were never like this, I swear.” She takes another swig. “If you hurt him. If you fuck him over. I will kill you. Like I will actually kill you. I still know how to make a Molotov cocktail. I will kill you, Eddie Munson, and I will get away with it.”
“Promise?” Eddie holds out his glass. Gin mixed with backwash. His favorite. She refills his glass and clinks her bottle against the rim.
“Promise.”
- break -
Steve looks half asleep when he opens the door. His hair’s as messy as it ever looks, and he’s dressed cozily in a clearly well-loved gray Juilliard sweatshirt and a pair of red flannel pajama pants. God, Eddie’s never wanted to drop to his knees so bad.
“Eddie?” Steve says, his voice rough with sleep. There’s a crease from his pillow on one side of his face. Eddie wants to hold him, wants to drag him in, and bury his face in the crook of his neck. He knows Steve smells exactly like he remembers, and knows that if he gets another chance to hold him, he may never let him go.
Steve lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and stretches his arms over his head. Eddie will not reach forward and run his fingertips along the exposed skin of Steve's stomach. “Dude, it’s like…one in the morning. We’re not teenagers anymore. I gotta sleep, or I’m gonna be useless in the morning.”
“I talked to Robin,” Eddie blurts. There. It’s out there. All of it all at once. “I talked to Robin, and she told me everything.”
Steve squints at him for a moment before he steps aside so Eddie can enter the house. Eddie resists the urge to pump his fist in victory as he steps inside. He glances around the darkened foyer of the old Harrington house. It hasn’t changed much from the shrine he keeps in his memory.
“So, that’s where Robin went. And here I thought she was having a girl’s night with Nance.” Steve shuts the door, and suddenly they're enveloped in a different kind of darkness, no starlight to guide them.
"The bulbs up here went out. Still need to get some of the electric worked out. Kitchen’s in working order, though." Steve navigates with a practiced ease. Eddie stubs his toe twice, trying to follow behind him.
Steve cuts on the light above the oven, bathing the kitchen in a warm glow. He’s more alert now, his eyes sharper. Eddie feels the back of his neck heat.
"So, you and Robin talked,” Steve says, “and now you're here.”
"Yeah,” Eddie croaks, “apparently, your marriage isn't real."
Steve quirks an eyebrow and grins. "Almost like I told you that already."
"You did. You, uh, really fucking did.”
And the thing is, Eddie knows he can look his fill now. He'd been holding himself back before (not well) but now? Now, there's no guilt. He can just look.
He lets his eyes linger on Steve's flushed cheeks. His sleep-disheveled hair. His pretty pink lips.
Fuck
He knows what they taste like now, and he’s been dying to taste them again.
Eddie's the one who kisses him this time. Grips his jaw like he owns him. Licks his way into Steve's mouth. Behind his teeth. He'd climb inside his skin if he could. For all Steve's bitchiness, he follows along easily enough. Eddie feels him melt into the kiss with a sigh, like he already knew this was coming. Like he was just waiting for Eddie to catch up. Maybe he was. Maybe Robin was right, and he’s been waiting this entire time while Eddie’s been running.
Well, he's here now. He pulls away from Steve, just far enough to tug the sweatshirt over his head.
Getting to see Steve Harrington's tits like this should count as a religious experience. It may be the most faithful Eddie’s ever been in his life.
And what is faith without worship?
Steve lets a startled laugh, practically a yelp, when Eddie buries his face right between his pecs.
“Eddie, oh my god,” he giggles. “That tickles! ”
“Shut up, I'm making up for lost time,” Eddie groans as he snuffles as close as he can get. “God, I'm a fucking loser. I've literally had dreams about your chest hair.”
“Shit. Okay. We need to go upstairs right now. Eddie.” Steve grips Eddie's chin and lifts his head. “Eddie, I want you to take me upstairs. Do you understand? Dustin could come out here at any moment. Kid’s a night owl.”
Right. Steve has houseguests.
“Lead the way, handsome,” Eddie says cheekily, slipping his hand into Steve’s.
The walk to Steve’s old bedroom is familiar. Moving through the house wakes up every memory, every feeling Eddie’s been trying to suppress since he left Hawkins. He can’t help but stop over and over again to push Steve up against a wall and kiss him within an inch of his life. He keeps reminding himself they have to make it to the bedroom. It’s just down the hall, he thinks as he sucks a bruise onto the hinge of Steve’s jaw.
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he pushes the door open. Being in Steve’s room again…fuck. Eddie feels like a teenager again.
“You know,” he says as he nudges Steve towards the bed, “I never told you, but there were a couple of times when I was staying in your guest room that I might’ve had a little too much fun thinking about you.”
“I know. I was the one who did the laundry, genius,” Steve laughs. “Glad to know you were thinking about me though.”
“I’ll do the laundry this time. Promise,” Eddie laughs, cheeks hot with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. He reaches down to grab Steve behind his knees and hefts the other man onto the bed. “So, don’t be scared to make a mess.” He crawls between Steve’s spread legs to kiss him, and drags his fingers across the now-familiar skin of Steve’s chest. He can’t resist the urge to twist just a bit, just to hear Steve gasp and feel him quiver.
“Eds, I’m gonna need you to pick up the pace,” Steve breathes and rocks his hips against Eddie’s thigh. “If you wanna have any fun at all.”
“Oh, hello there!” Eddie grins wolfishly. He can feel Steve, thick, hot, and twitching through the fabric of his sleep pants. “Of course, your dick is big. Why the fuck not? If there is a god, why wouldn’t he have favorites?” He presses his thigh in tighter, gives Steve something to grind against, and what a sight he is to behold . Steve rolls his hips like a man on a mission, his face tight in concentration as he chases his pleasure.
“Look at you,” Eddie says, “all pretty and pink. Stop biting your lip, baby, you’re going to hurt yourself.” He smooths his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip, and coaxes it out from between his teeth. “You gonna come just like this? Against my thigh? Hm? It’s okay, you know. You can take what you need. Go on, baby, use me,” he commands.
“Fuck. Fuck !” Steve groans, eyes rolling back as he comes. Eddie can feel it, hot and wet, seeping into both their clothes. He did that. He made Steve come without even taking his pants off, without even really touching his dick. Fuck, he feels high. Best high of his damn life.
“And here I thought King Steve would be able to go all night,” he can’t help but say laugh.
Steve swats at his shoulder. “Shut up. You’re literally the first person to touch my dick in, like, a decade. Give me a break.” Steve wipes his face and groans. “Fuck. That was intense.”
“Yeah? Well, go on then, Harrington. Stroke my ego a little.” Eddie’s hand finds the swell of Steve’s hip and squeezes. “If you do, I might just pay you back.”
“Yeah?” Steve smirks and leans up to speak directly into Eddie’s ear. “You’re gonna fuck me, Eddie. I don’t have to stroke your ego for that.” He wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist and tugs him in. “You’re gonna fuck me because you want me.”
“Good to see your ego’s still intact, Harrington,” Eddie says with a smirk, “I wonder if I can fuck it out of you.”
Steve’s eyes go hazy. “You can certainly try.”
“Take your fucking pants off, Steve. Now.”
Eddie gets to his feet and yanks his shirt over his head. Steve’s rolling his sleep pants down. No underwear because, of course . It’s like Harrington exists just to make Eddie’s brain short-circuit. All Eddie can see is miles and miles of freckled, sun-tanned skin. Steve’s pretty pink cock lays nestled against his thick thigh. He’s soft for now, but something tells Eddie that he won’t be for long. He tugs his own pants and underwear down, desperate to get his hands on that skin, on those thighs .
“C’mere,” he says. Steve just laughs and spreads his thighs like Eddie said fucking open sesame. When he gets his hands on Steve again, he squeezes, kneads the flesh of Steve’s until he’s squirming again.
“I thought you were gonna fuck me, Eds. You all talk?” He goads.
“Keep testing me, Harrington. Keep on.” He drags his fingers up, between Steve’s cheeks to prod at his hole. Steve rocks into the touch and rolls until Eddie’s finger just barely breaches him.
“Where’s your lube, baby?” Eddie asks.
Steve flops his hand out next to him towards the nightstand next to the bed.
“Please tell me it’s not shit left over from high school, babe. That’s gotta be glue by now.” Eddie doesn’t have to dig through the drawer. There’s a new bottle of lube sitting right at the front of the drawer, unopened. It’s the good shit because Steve wouldn’t use anything else. “Expecting something?”
“I knew you’d be back,” Steve breathes. “Eddie, please don’t make me wait. Please?”
Eddie's imagination never could have prepared him for a begging Steve Harrington in real life.
“I got you, baby. I got you.” He takes his time opening Steve up. Coats his fingers and the space between Steve’s cheeks liberally with lube, until it’s dripping down onto the sheets. Steve shakes and moans when Eddie’s fingers enter him, when he scissors them open and bullies his way into Steve’s tight heat. Steve’s fingers curl, gripping the sheets tightly as he lets out little punched-out noises that could drive Eddie to madness if he listened long enough. When Eddie finally grips his own cock, when he finally slicks himself up and sinks into Steve, he thinks he might’ve actually seen the face of God. Funny, the face of God looks oddly like a fucked out Steve Harrington.
The headboard knocks against the wall as he fucks into Steve. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he worries about waking houseguests but in the moment? In the moment, all he can think about is Steve . Steve’s heat. Steve's thighs around his hips. Steve’s fingers in his hair and Steve’s voice in his ear. Every noise drives Eddie to fuck him harder. He wants to hear more, wants to punch those sounds right out of Steve’s throat .
“There it is,” Eddie pants. He’s sweating. Can feel it dripping down his face. Can Steve feel it? “That’s the way to knock the king down a few pegs, huh? This was all I had to do? If I’d known, I would’ve done this in high school. Would’ve fucked that smirk right off your face.”
He feels Steve’s fingernails dig into his back, clawing at him in revenge. Pain licks up his spine, heightening the pleasure. Fuck. He’s not gonna last. Fair’s fair, he guesses. He can feel Steve’s cock, hard again against his thigh. He reaches down between them, takes it in hand, and strokes. Steve’s eyes roll, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“God, look at you. Look at you, Stevie,” Eddie moans. The sight’s enough to push him over, and he’s coming white hot and blinding. Steve shudders around him, so fucking close. Eddie picks up the pace, as Steve drags him down into a kiss and comes, whimpering against his lips.
Fuck.
He’s never going to be able to let this go.
- break -
“You know, when you and Robbie ran off together, I was crushed. You were mine. You didn’t know it, but you were, and then you were hers, and I got Wayne fired, and everything fell apart so fast–” Eddie inhales sharply. Steve stretches out to wrap his arms around Eddie until his breathing slows. “I know Robbie’s amazing,” he finally says. “Of course, you would love her. Why wouldn’t you?”
“I do. I love her so much, but not in the way you were thinking. She’s kind of my soulmate,” Steve laughs. “If we had to spend the rest of our lives together, we could’ve. We’d even be happy.” He lifts his head so he can see Eddie’s face. “But you’re something else entirely, Eds. What I felt with you back then, I still feel it. I’ve…I’ve missed you.”
The admission knocks the wind out of Eddie. He knew Steve missed him. Steve had even told him before, but here, naked in the dark, it feels like something altogether different.
“I told you back then that I would always want you with me,” Steve continues. “I wish…I wish you would’ve believed me, Eds. Or just talked to me, at least. But I know we can’t go back.”
“No.” Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair and cups his cheek. “We can’t go back. I don’t want to go back. Not to that part of my life.”
Steve’s expression softens. “Of course.”
“But I do want to go forward,” Eddie insists. “I want to go forward with you. I missed you too, Steve. I missed you when I was still here with you. I miss you whenever you’re not looking in my direction. Even when you’re right here with me. I’ve been in love with you since I was, like, nineteen.” There. It’s out there. Steve can pick it up, and they can carry on, or he can leave Eddie right where he found him.
“Fuck,” Steve groans, and Eddie’s heart drops. Steve flops against his chest and sighs. “Do you know how much paperwork it takes to get divorced? Way more than it takes to get married.”
Something flutters in Eddie’s chest.
“Yeah? Glad you’re only gonna have to get divorced once then, huh?”
“I guess. You’re lucky I love you, Eds. The New York county clerk’s office is the 9th circle of hell.”
I love you. I love you. I love you. It’s all Eddie hears.
I love you . I miss you. I missed you . He kisses the top of Steve’s head.
The paperwork can wait.
Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
We were sad of getting old
It made us restless
Oh, I'm so mad I'm getting old
It makes me reckless
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
When we were young