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“Would you stop wiggling?” Steve complains, much to Eddie’s amusement, as he cards his fingers through Eddie’s curls with care, gathering his (surprisingly soft) hair into a bunch. “Pass me the hair tie?”
Eddie lifts his hand up over his head, hair tie dangling between his fingers, and Steve takes it with a muttered thanks.
“Have you ever thought about becoming a hair stylist, or whatever the fuck they’re called?” Eddie asks him as Steve pulls Eddie’s hair through the tie.
Steve scoffs. “No way! Can you imagine?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, then mumbles an apology under his breath when Steve huffs as the movement jerks his hair out of place. “You’re good at it.”
“There’s a difference,” Steve says, “I like your hair. I like doing your hair. I don’t wanna be touching everyone else’s hair. Gross.”
Eddie rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He presses his hand to his chest. “I’m flattered, Stevie.”
“Good.” Steve tugs Eddie’s hair once, twice, and then pats his shoulder to let him know that he’s finished. Eddie rolls his head back to look at him, even if it is upside down, and Steve grins at him. “You should be.”
There’s a funny feeling in Eddie’s stomach, warm and tingly. It appears more and more lately. Always when Steve smiles at him.
Eddie hums thoughtfully. He watches as Steve’s eyes loom over his, growing nearer as Steve lowers himself down until their lips meet, push and pull of teeth and tongue as Eddie drowns in the feeling. His hands reach up, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair that’s (for once) devoid of its usual gel, and Steve lets out a rumbling moan that vibrates through Eddie’s entire being, down his spine to his toes.
And then the door is being ripped open and Robin is shouting, “Steve! You fucking owe me, that shift was a nightmare!” The two of them jump apart, Steve’s hand reaching out to wrap around Eddie’s wrist before he can move too far away. Robin sighs, clapping her hands together. “Oh, great. And you blew off work to suck face with your boyfriend. Wonderful.”
Steve throws the brush he’d been using at Robin, who deftly ducks out of the firing line. “Shut up. This is the first time we’ve seen each other all week.”
Robin huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “And that’s my problem how exactly?”
“Well nobody wants to deal with grump Steve.” Eddie points out, laughing when Steve shoves at his shoulder. He sticks his tongue out at Steve, not missing how Steve’s eyes linger a little too long. Turning his attention back to Robin, he gestures her over. “We were gonna watch Back to the Future, grab some beers and find a seat.”
“Again?!” Robin asks, but follows Eddie’s orders.
Eddie shrugs, shuffling closer to Steve to make room for Robin. Steve grumbles something under his breath but he still wraps his arm around Eddie, keeping him tucked into his side, so Eddie takes it as a win. “It was either this or The Breakfast Club.”
Robin flops down to the floor beside Eddie, passing two beers his way. “I vote that next!”
Eddie smiles, bumping their shoulders together. “Sure thing.”
Lips peppering small kisses down his jawline wakes him and Eddie hums in approval. He tilts his head to allow for better access and smiles under the weak sunlight peeking its way into his room.
“I could get used to this.” he says, voice thick with sleep, and there’s a responding chuckle by the base of his throat that has shivers running down his spine. “No, seriously,” he pushes, stretching his legs and bringing an arm up to snake around Steve’s waist. The heavy weight of Steve’s body on top of his is comforting. “Screw alarms. This is much more effective.”
Steve hums, his nose brushing up against the underside of Eddie’s jaw. “Would you stop talking?”
Eddie laughs. “Oh, I see how it is. You only want my body-” his words trail off into a low moan when a hot tongue swipes over his throat. His body melts into his mattress, eyes rolling back at the sensation. Steve chuckles, smug as fuck, and scrapes his teeth ever-so-lightly over Eddie’s collarbone. “Never mind. You can have my body.”
Hands plant themselves at either side of Eddie’s head and suddenly Steve’s face is above his own. His smirk is ridiculously attractive. Eddie is well and truly gone.
“That’s what I thought.” Steve says, dipping down to capture Eddie’s lips in a passionate kiss. Eddie groans, he can’t help it, Steve settling comfortably between Eddie’s legs like he belongs there. Sinking back against his pillow, Eddie kisses back with fervour, fisting his hands in Steve’s hair and tugging until he draws an intoxicating whine out of Steve, swallowing the sound eagerly.
They’re so lost in one another that they don’t hear the door to Eddie’s bedroom opening, don’t realise that they’re no longer alone until there’s a very much disgusted groan from the other side of the room.
“My eyes!” Max squeals, throwing her hands over her face. But not before launching a random shirt their way. It lands on Steve’s bare back. “Gross! Guys, it’s seven-thirty!”
“Exactly!” Steve cries back, dropping his head onto Eddie’s chest with a frustrated groan. “It’s seven-thirty, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Mr Munson let me in.” Max says, her back now turned to them. “You said you’d take me to Lucas’ today! Please, get dressed before I have nightmares about this.”
“Probably too late for that,” Eddie mutters under his breath, but Steve hears him, a cute giggle escaping him. He tries to muffle it, pressing his lips to Eddie’s shoulder, but the contact has Eddie taking in a sharp intake of breath.
“Stop! God, please! I’m literally in the room!” Max shouts.
“Well then get out of the room!” Steve replies, throwing a pillow in the vague direction that she’s stood. Fortunately, Max actually listens, her hands still covering her face as she rushes back out through the door.
Unfortunately, at least in Eddie’s opinion, Steve moves too. He sits back on his heels, and Eddie watches in appreciation as his thighs tense. But then he grabs the shirt Max threw at him and slips it on and Eddie’s hopes and dreams die before his very eyes.
“Awe, c’mon,” he pouts, reaching out to grab at the shirt. Steve lets him pull him back down into another kiss, but he keeps it chaste.
“Not with children around,” Steve mumbles against his lips, sitting back again. He pats Eddie’s chest. “Later, I promise.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that promise.” Eddie tells him, watching as he slides off of the bed in search of a pair of pants.
Steve laughs, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to tame it back down. “You better.”
It’s not until he’s walking out of Eddie’s bedroom that Eddie realises the shirt he’s wearing is Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt.
Later turns out to be that very night.
Steve came to pick Eddie up with the intentions to grab dinner from their favourite diner and then, if they have time, catch a movie. Except, when Eddie slides into the passenger seat of Steve’s car, he finds that Steve hasn’t changed out of Eddie’s shirt all day.
Something about that has Eddie’s insides in a twist.
Which is how the car ends up pulled off to the side of the road, Eddie in Steve’s lap, the windows already beginning to steam up and plans of dinner long forgotten.
Warm hands are tucked into the back of Eddie’s jeans, beautiful brown eyes blinking up at him as little puffs of air escape Steve’s parted lips, ghosting over Eddie’s face. Eddie wets his lips, taking in the little details of Steve’s face as he brings his hands up to cup his jaw. He shakes his head. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
He watches with glee as Steve’s face heats up, a pink flush colouring his cheeks. Eddie runs the pads of his thumbs over his cheekbones. “Shut up and kiss me.” Steve demands, and Eddie isn’t one to pass up an offer like that.
Tilting Steve’s head back, he swoops in, kissing him slow and filthy like he’s been thinking about doing all damn day. Steve responds beautifully, matching Eddie’s intensity as he tightens his hold on Eddie, blunt nails digging into soft flesh.
He slips his tongue into Steve’s mouth, rolls in, and sucks a little on Steve’s. The moan that Steve makes in the back of his throat is addictive, Eddie wants to hear that sound for the rest of his life, and he deepens the kiss.
When he pulls away for air, he catches Steve’s lower lip between his teeth just to make him moan again.
He ducks down, lips brushing against the shell of Steve’s ear. “You look really fucking good in my clothes,” he whispers hotly, a burst of pride in his chest when Steve audibly holds back a whine.
“Oh, so that’s what’s got you so riled up?” Steve chuckles breathlessly.
“Nah,” Eddie shakes his head, “that’s just you.”
Steve snorts, but he doesn’t argue back. He grabs Eddie’s chin, bringing his face back up to meet his eyes. He’s going to kiss him again, Eddie just knows, and his body is buzzing in anticipation. His eyes keep glancing down to Steve’s red-kissed lips, heart thudding in his chest, and he feels himself leaning in-
“Oi!” There’s a fist on the window and Eddie jolts upright, his elbow colliding with the steering wheel and setting off the horn. Steve’s laughter cuts through the car and Eddie sets his glare on him. Steve is, unfortunately, immune to Eddie’s wrath by now.
The back door opens then and a head pops in.
“Would you two get a damn room already?” Mike asks, not waiting for permission to slide inside. Will follows closely behind him, although he at least has the decency to look a little bashful.
“Well apparently that makes no difference!” Eddie exclaims, waving his arms around and very almost smacking Steve in the face. “You lot know no boundaries.”
Mike holds his gaze, undeterred. “Not our fault you decided to park alongside the road. And not lock the doors.”
“We hardly expected anyone to climb in.” Steve says, looking at the two boys through the rear view mirror. “What do you want?”
It’s Will that speaks up this time, the face of innocence, “A lift home, please? It’s raining real badly out there.” It’s only now that Eddie takes note of their soaked clothes, the way their hair clings to the faces, and he sighs dejectedly. Sure, he had been this close to undressing his boyfriend and finally having some fun but, despite what the majority of this town seems to think, Eddie’s not a monster. He’s not going to force these kids out into the cold.
Steve seems to catch on because he squeezes Eddie’s hip, offering him an understanding smile. “Sorry, babe.”
Eddie waves his hand. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head and already clambering back to his side of the car, “I knew you were a single dad when I met you. I signed up for this.” The boys in the back snicker, and Eddie wishes he could feel even a little bit mad about this entire situation. Instead, he finds himself hiding his smile as he looks out at the rain splattering down onto the car window.
As they set off, a hand lands on his thigh and Eddie glances over at Steve to find him already looking his way. “I’ll make it up to you.” Steve tells him. A brief moment of silence, and then, “You still up for burgers and fries?”
Eddie grins. Leans over to press a wet kiss to Steve’s cheek, and ignores the exaggerated gags from behind them. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”
They’re halfway down the road back into town when they hear, “Steve, is that Eddie’s shirt?”
Eddie’s cracking eggs into a pan when Steve emerges from the dead, padding bare foot into the kitchen with bleary eyes and mussed hair. He looks unfairly cute like this, rubbing at his face, the action causing his shirt to ride up and reveal a pane of delectable, tan skin.
Eddie has to look away before he ends up jumping his bones.
“That smells good.” Steve mumbles, voice deep like it always is when he’s just woken up. It’s ridiculously sexy.
“It’s literally just scrambled eggs.”
Arms snake around Eddie’s waist, a chin tucking into the crook between his shoulder and neck. “Nobody ever cooks for me.” Steve whispers in a small voice that breaks Eddie’s heart. Lips dance over the skin of his throat, the tease of a tongue, and Eddie shudders.
“Well-” Eddie starts to speak. Clears his throat and tries again, “Well, good thing you’ve got me now.”
“Mmm,” Steve hums, lips now pressed just under Eddie’s ear. “Guess so.” And then he’s spinning Eddie around, caging him in with his arms with a hungry look in his eyes. Eddie has an inkling that it might not be the food Steve’s after right now. That thought is proved correct when Steve dips in, kissing Eddie within an inch of his life.
He laughs against Steve’s mouth as the man crowds him up against the kitchen counter (suddenly very, very thankful that Steve’s parents are almost constantly absent from their home) and kisses him again. There’s nothing fleeting or proper about the way that Steve kisses him, the teasing flicks of tongue against his lips right before the pressure returns hard enough to bruise, the shivers that run up Eddie’s spine nor the way that he gasps into Steve’s mouth. He brings his hands up, fisting at the back of Steve’s shirt and suddenly wishing it wasn’t there, wishing that there were fewer layers between them.
Steve seems to have that same thought because his hands make their way to Eddie’s waist, fingertips toying with the hem of Eddie’s tee. His lungs are burning but he doesn’t want to pull away, loves the way Steve is devouring him, loves the feeling of pure, unbridled desire that’s shooting through his body. He jerks when Steve’s hand finally snakes under his shirt, palm splayed out flat across his stomach, and he can feel Steve’s smirk pressed against his lips. Digs teeth into Steve’s lip in protest. Swallows the moan he gets in response.
“Is something burning?!” a voice cuts in through the haze of Eddie’s mind and he groans, tightening his grip on Steve (who seems just as reluctant to pull away).
Except, now that he thinks about it….that does smell like burning.
Shit.
Eddie pushes at Steve’s chest, ignores his babbled protests and swivels around to find that, yep. The eggs have burnt. They’re not even recognisable anymore.
“Fuck.”
“Well, I was trying.” Steve adds unhelpfully and Eddie picks up the abandoned spatula from the counter to swat at his boyfriend’s head. Steve yelps and Eddie smirks, satisfied.
“You two are hopeless.” Lucas says, reminding them both of his sudden, unexpected presence.
“We are not!” Eddie argues back, but his point kind of falls flat considering he’s having to scrape egg out of a pan. He glances over his shoulder at Steve. “Crack a window would you, love?”
Steve still looks a little put out but he does as Eddie asks. He leans against the sink by the window, directing his gaze over to Lucas as he crosses his arms over his chest. “And you’re here because?”
Eddie tuts. “Play nice.” Steve sends him a warning glare. Eddie sticks out his tongue.
Lucas rolls his eyes at them. “You said you’d take me to practice this morning.” He taps his watch, eyebrows raised. “We’re gonna be late.”
Steve slumps his shoulders. “Shit, I forgot. I’m sorry, dude. Let me go find my shoes.” Lucas waves his apology off, offering Steve a friendly smile, and Eddie decides that Lucas might just be his favourite kid.
Well, after Dustin, of course.
“I will be back in, like, twenty minutes.” Steve promises him, stepping across the room to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and Eddie tries not to think about how very domestic this all feels. He waves Steve off.
“Don’t worry about it. You go. I’ll have breakfast sorted, not burnt, for when you get back. How’s French toast sound?”
“Delicious.” Steve grins, already heading out of the room before shouting over his shoulder, “If you can find any bread!”
“Imagine the look on the kids’ faces if they found out that you, Steve Harrington, actually like metal.” Eddie snorts, tilting his head back where it rests on Steve’s chest to look up at his boyfriend. Sees the smile creep over Steve’s face, curling his lips upwards.
“Betrayal, no doubt.” Steve mutters and Eddie laughs again. He nudges his elbow into Steve’s ribs gently, the hand in his hair stopping.
“You know Dustin likes this stuff.”
Steve gasps, albeit a little over-dramatically but Eddie appreciates the effort. “No way! And after all the complaining he did about the tape I left in my car?”
Eddie shrugs. Pushes himself up to meet Steve’s eyes. “He’s hitting his ‘rebellious teenage’ phase. Y’know what kids get like, arguing with their parents over dumb shit they don’t even believe.”
Steve looks thoughtful for a moment. “I might steal this one. I’m taking him and the others down to the arcades tomorrow.”
Eddie fights back his smile, choosing instead to place a hand over his heart and tut disappointedly at his boyfriend. “Well, that’s not very mom-like of you. Annoying the kids is supposed to be my job!”
“Hey!” Steve shoves at his chest, but his hands hover nearby in case Eddie loses his balance and manages to fall off of the couch (it’s happened before, it could absolutely happen again). The gesture warms Eddie’s heart. “Are you saying I’m the mom? What makes you think that?”
“I mean…you baby the crap out of them, darling. In a good way.” he adds, soothing away the tense line forming between Steve’s brows. “Sweetheart, you literally drove to school to drop off Will’s lunch the other day when you realised he left it in the car. You were on the other side of town!”
“Yeah, well-”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie shushes Steve, pressing a finger to his lips. Steve pouts and Eddie only finds that life-shatteringly adorable. He leans in, nose brushing against Steve’s, and inspects the golden flecks of Steve’s eyes. He can feel Steve’s heart hammering under his palm, can feel the small puffs of air dance over his skin each time he exhales, can watch in real time as Steve’s pupil dilate under Eddie’s intense gaze. The hold he has over Steve would feel powerful, dangerously so, if Steve didn’t have that exact same effect on Eddie.
Ghosting his lips over Steve’s briefly, a teasing play that has Steve’s breath hitching in his throat, Eddie whispers, “Baby, you’re totally the mom.”
And then, before Steve can voice his thoughts on the matter, he slides his fingers under the curve of Steve’s jaw and coaxes him up into a kiss.
Eddie means for it to be short and sweet but within seconds Steve’s got him flipped over on the couch, pushing him into the cushions, their tongues sliding deep and wet, and Steve’s making this half-groan, half-whimper he only ever makes when he loses control. Eddie isn’t complaining, drinking in the sounds as he tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair, pulling the man impossibly closer. His knees part, allowing space for Steve to reside in, and he moans when he feels a hand snake its way up the front of his shirt, warm fingertips dancing over cold skin.
He’s absolutely down with taking this further, it’s been so fucking long, but the universe seems to have other plans because the door to Steve’s living-room is pushed open, a familiar voice interrupting the wonderful moment that Eddie was very much enjoying.
“God, you two are worse than rabbits!” Nancy groans, throwing a hand half-heartedly over her eyes, other hand cocked on her hip. Steve pulls away from the kiss with a lewd sound, and Eddie at least takes this opportunity to appreciate how thoroughly fucked he looks – despite the lack of any actually fucking – his hair uncharacteristically dishevelled, cheeks flush, and lips wet and red. He looks delectable, if Eddie does say so himself.
“I mean, technically,” Eddie draws his eyes away from Steve to look over at Nancy, flashing her a smirk, “we do have an entire litter between us.”
Nancy grimaces. Steve groans, dropping his head down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“Please shut up.” Steve complains, head tilted so that Eddie feels the words on his neck more than hears them. His hair tickles at Eddie’s jaw, but he can’t find the strength within himself to push him away. “I’m begging you.”
Eddie snorts, hand settling at Steve’s hip. “Well, not yet you aren’t.” he teases, slipping his thumb under the waistband of Steve’s jeans to rub small circles into his skin. He doesn’t miss the way that Steve shivers above him.
“Okay,” Nancy interrupts them once more, holding her hands up in a placating manner. “I only came by to see if you had my purple cardigan. I think I left it here last week, I’ve looked everywhere else. And then, I promise, you can get back to,” she gestures between them, “this.”
“How considerate of you,” Eddie drawls. Tenses when Steve pinches at his hip in a silent warning to be nice. Which, rude. He loves Nance, sure, but she’s still Steve’s ex-girlfriend (who has just caught them in a rather compromising position), Eddie thinks he’s allowed to be a little catty.
“It’ll be in my room, probably. Here, I’ll give you a hand looking.” Steve groans like an old man, pushing himself up off of Eddie to rise to his feet. Eddie watches his go, throws a hand over the arm of the couch and smiles when Steve slides his palm over Eddie’s, squeezes his fingers before leaving the room.
Ah, well. At least he still has good music to listen to.
Dustin is only a little apprehensive to let himself into Steve’s house. He’s heard things from everyone, horrible, scarring stories of each of his friends walking in on things that Dustin would really rather not witness for himself. But he’s been stood outside for over five minutes now and nobody is answering the door and, when he tried the handle, it wasn’t locked. He can see Steve’s car outside in its usual spot, so he knows he’s home at least.
And he really needs his textbook to study.
He ought to start checking his bag before leaving places; he’s forever losing stuff.
“Steve?” he calls out, not for the first time, as he clicks the door shut behind him. “It’s me, Dustin. Where are you, man?”
He starts to walk towards the living-room, but when he ducks his head in he finds the room completely empty. Not even a textbook in sight. Damn.
As he passes through the kitchen, he spies enough plates and cups for two left in the sink. Great, so Eddie’s here, too, then.
Dustin holds his breath as he creeps up the stairs, figuring he must’ve left his book in Steve’s bedroom. Which, frankly, is the last place he wants to be venturing into right now. All things considered.
The door to Steve’s room is ajar, a slither of light escaping out into the hallway, and Dustin sighs, straightens his back and steels himself as he comes to a stop outside the room. “Steve? Eddie? Please tell me you’re both decent.” he speaks through the gap, but there’s no response. He can’t even hear any movement and he worries, briefly, that something terrible has happened.
Covering his eyes with his hand, he pushes the door open with the final warning of, “All right, I’m coming in!”
Silence.
Dustin cracks his eyes opening, peeking through the gaps between his fingers, and takes in the mess of the room. There are clothes strewn about the place, a very familiar denim vest thrown over the back of a chair, and a disturbing amount of socks on the floor. It always amazes Dustin how he manages to keep an entire house almost spotless and, yet, his room looks like a tornado has just blown through it more often than not.
Although, Dustin has seen Eddie’s room. He has a sneaking suspicion he might be partly, if not mostly, responsible for this mess.
Dustin turns, eyes flitting over the room, until he finally finds the two people he was (not really) looking for, shirtless and very almost pantless, sprawled out over the bed with the sheets half falling off. Except, much to Dustin’s delight, they’re not doing anything that Dustin’s future therapist will need to hear about.
Steve is lying on top of Eddie, his head on his chest and most definitely drooling (something Dustin will absolutely be making fun of him for at a later date). He has a hand curled up in front of his face and he looks so peaceful. Dustin isn’t sure he’s ever seen Steve look so at ease.
The whole being unconscious thing might play a part in that, though.
Below him, Eddie is letting out quiet puffs of air that don’t quite pass as snores, too cute to be classed as such, and he has a hand buried in Steve’s hair, his own splayed out across the pillow under his head. Eddie has a protective arm wrapped securely around Steve’s middle, their legs tangled together, and Dustin can’t help but think that the two of them together look far too big for Steve’s small bed. Surely it can’t be comfortable.
And, yet…
Dustin shakes his head, unable to stop himself from smiling as he drags his eyes away from the oddly sweet scene in front of him and begins his search for his book. He makes sure to be quiet, gently lifting items up until he finally finds it, peeking out from under the bed and half-covered by a blanket that’s clearly fallen down to the ground. He grabs that, too.
The couple haven’t even stirred by the time he creeps back around the edge of the bed and towards the door. He sighs at them, wondering just how long they’ve actually been passed out, and carefully lays the blanket over the two of them. He doesn’t want them to catch a cold, after all.
With his book tucked under his arm, Dustin makes his way back out of the room, tip-toes down the stairs, and lets himself out. He makes sure to drop the lock on the door, deciding that, should anybody else choose to show up, Steve and Eddie deserve their privacy for a little while longer.
It’s the least he can do for them, really.