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Eddie isn’t used to this. Being touched, being loved. Steve’s hands in his hair as they card slowly through his curly locks, the way his lips press against his collarbone.
It feels like being worshiped, and Eddie isn’t use to it
He lets out a moan, can feel the way Steve’s lips turn up, a grin pressed against the cool flesh. It’s like scorching hell fire, the way Steves touches light a fire under his always cold skin. Leaving him pleasantly warmed and aching for more.
Eddie isn’t used to it, but he sure as hell can learn to be.