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Summary
“Okay, time out,” Steve says behind him.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks. He blinks long and slow, his lashes getting tangled, his gaze still caught on the bottle of lube. His eyes feel like cotton.
Steve kisses his shoulder. “You're too high; we should wait a little bit.”
“No, but I- I want-'' he huffs, frustrated, because he’s too stoned to articulate what he wants. It’s all a vague jumble of wanting in his head: wanting to touch and be touched, to be held and loved and fucked. To be consumed. Fondness in its filthiest form.
“Eddie.”
Okay. He may have a point.
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Eddie and Steve get high and bone down. That's it, that's the fic. (Written for Steddie week, day 7: free space)
Series
- Part 5 of yogi steve vs eddie's brain bees