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For years Steve had always taken the term “pretty boy” as an insult - generally because whenever anyone said it to him, that’s how they intended it.
It was almost derogatory, even used by those who he’d considered friends, making him feel less than, as if he had literally nothing to offer in the world other than appearances.
That was until it came from Eddie.
One of the nights that Steve had the house to himself, he’d told Eddie to come over. And it wasn’t too long after Eddie’s arrival that Steve found himself sitting in his lap, kissing all over Eddie’s face and neck and even pulling the collar of Eddie’s shirt down a bit to get to the tattoo on his chest.
Steve would move back up to gently graze his teeth against Eddie’s collar bone, causing Eddie to grab hold of Steve’s hair, his rings slightly digging into his scalp.
“Oh, you pretty boy,” Eddie would mutter, not even sure if Steve would hear it, but sure enough, he did.
Dazed and a bit light headed, Steve would pull back, eyes moving over Eddie’s face, “w—wha?”
Eddie would chuckle, pulling Steve’s face down to his, give him a quick kiss on the lips before moving his mouth up to his ear, “you heard me,” he’d kiss his way down Steve’s jaw before looking right into his eyes, “such a pretty boy,” another kiss, this time on his neck, “so, so, so pretty,” Eddie would run his hands up under Steve’s shirt, making him almost shiver, “and all mine.”