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When Steve woke up, he had no idea what was going on. He was pressed against Eddie’s side, one leg and one arm draped across his friend’s body and his hand tangled deep in his curly locks. Eddie was grinning at him, his face the picture of utter amusement. “Who were you just dreaming about?”
***
They hadn’t planned on having a sleepover, but by the end of the night when everyone was too stoned to drive home, it became inevitable. Steve played the good host and got everyone blankets and pillows, setting them all up in his living room: Robin on the recliner, Vickie on the couch, and he and Eddie next to each other on the floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable setup, but it would do for the night.
But Eddie was in for a rude surprise. Because, not long after they had all settled, he discovered that Steve moved around in his sleep. Like, a lot.
He found out the hard way, with a sharp kick to the shin that woke Eddie up so violently that he almost started throwing punches. Then, half an hour later, when he had just managed to fall back asleep, he was awoken again with a sudden smack to the jaw. After that, another kick. Then another slap. Then a knee to the stomach. And all the while, Steve slept soundly, dead to the world.
Oh, he was going to be dead alright.
Eddie rolled Steve away from him (again) with a rough shove, grumbling as he flipped over and wrapped his blanket around himself like a cocoon. He glanced at Robin, stretched out on the recliner like the absolute picture of comfort. He wondered how much he could pay her to switch places with him. Knowing her, he probably couldn’t afford it. So, resigned to his fate, he curled up in the fetal position and did his best to fall back asleep.
The next time he woke up, the sun was just starting to creep in through the windows. He was stretched out on his back, his blanket having come loose around him, and there was a hand on his face. Steve’s hand. “Son of a bitch,” Eddie gritted his teeth, grabbing Steve’s wrist and tossing his hand back at him. The bastard didn’t even flinch, just laid there, snoring softly like a peaceful little angel.
Eddie turned his head to the recliner again, maybe there was room for two up there with Robin- but the recliner was empty, and so was the couch. Robin and Vickie were gone.
“Curious,” Eddie said under his breath, propping himself up on his elbows as he scanned the room. But then an arm fell across his torso. “Are you fucking kidding me with this?”
Steve had rolled back towards Eddie, his arm having followed the momentum of the turn. At least this time he had managed not to hit Eddie in the face. He supposed he should be grateful for that.
Eddie moved to flick the rouge appendage away one final time, but then Steve’s hand closed around his waist, latching his arm in place as he pulled himself into Eddie’s side, effectively snuggling him. Eddie froze, holding his hands up as he watched Steve get comfortable, still asleep.
“What the-” Eddie raised an eyebrow. This was certainly new. But what the fuck? Where was this when he was getting beaten up all night? Had peace always been an option?
Before he could make an attempt to escape, Steve took in a long breath and groaned, “mmmm, baby, that feels so good.”
Holy fucking shit, Steve was having a sex dream! Eddie bit his lip to keep from laughing. He was never going to let Steve live this down. Revenge was sweet!
Eddie lay still, waiting to see what would happen next- or really, what other blackmail he could gather on his friend. It wasn't long before Steve's lips started to purse and twitch, making vague kissing shapes into the air. Eddie was going to lose his mind! This was too fucking funny, especially since Steve had crazy bedhead and a line of drool trailing down his chin. He looked deranged, and Eddie wished he had a camera.
Steve’s hand started to move from Eddie's waist, sliding up his chest to his shoulder, his fingers then curling into Eddie’s hair. Eddie almost didn't catch what Steve said next when he mumbled,“I’vebeenwaitingforthis,” like the sentence was one long word.
That certainly raised some questions. Because Steve had to be dreaming about someone, but who? Eddie pondered on this as Steve continued to stroke his hair. It was actually pretty relaxing.
Steve had more than a few past girlfriends, so it was possible that he could be remembering any one of them. It could even be Nancy. Or maybe it was someone that Steve had yet to date. A new crush.
Steve snuggled even tighter into Eddie's side, tracing the fingers that were still in Eddie's hair down his neck. “You’re finally mine. Finally,” he said in a husky tone.
That confirmed it, Steve was dreaming about a crush. Or maybe even the-one-that-got-away, if Steve had one of those. But who could it be? Eddie didn’t have a clue, he and Steve didn't exactly talk about girls all that much.
Eddie racked his brain: it wasn't Robin or Vickie (clearly), so maybe it was a girl that Steve had met during work at the video store. But that could be anyone, Eddie didn't exactly have a list of every girl who rented movies there, nor did he likely know most of them. Then there was also the possibility that Steve had reconnected with someone from high school, but who? Eddie needed more information. He needed a name.
An idea struck him: if Steve was dreaming about a girl while snuggling Eddie, maybe Eddie could ask him questions as the girl and get Steve to answer. He certainly hadn't been shy about talking in his sleep so far.
Eddie leaned close to Steve's ear, pitching his voice to a more feminine register, and whispered, “who am I?”
Eddie waited, but Steve didn't answer, still sleeping soundly.
So Eddie tried again, using the same voice. “What's my name?”
Again, nothing.
Frustrated that nothing was happening, Eddie tried one last time in his normal voice, “Steve, say my name.”
There was a pause, then Steve let out a moan and threw his leg across Eddie's knee-
And that was far enough for Eddie! It was a good try, but this had to stop before Steve actually started trying to fuck him.
“Oookay! Rise and shine, big boy!” Eddie sang as he grabbed Steve by the shoulder and gave him a firm shake.
Steve groaned, fighting to stay asleep, but then his eyes fluttered open. Steve blinked, registering Eddie, and then their compromising position on the floor.
“Who were you just dreaming about?” Eddie asked slyly, a wide grin of amusement painted across his face.
Steve withdrew from Eddie in a flash. “What are you talking about?”
“Don't play dumb with me, man. You were having a sexy dream, weren’t you?” Eddie teased.
“What? No,” Steve denied, manically trying to fix his hair, though there was a stray cowlick that just would not stay down.
“Bullshit. You were literally cuddling me and moaning ‘mmm, baby, that feels so good,’ and ‘I’ve been waiting for this,’” Eddie recounted, mimicking Steve’s voice.
“That's… not true,” Steve countered weakly. The statement was hard to deny though, given the position he had woken up in.
“And then you said, ‘finally you're mine, finally,’” Eddie continued dramatically, wrapping his arms around himself and pretending like he was kissing someone.
“What else did I say?” Steve asked cautiously.
“That was it,” Eddie shrugged, watching Steve closely with a satisfied grin.
Steve let out a sigh of relief.
Relief? Oh, he was definitely hiding something. “Who was it, Steve?” Eddie pressed.
“I don't remember,” Steve replied, discovering the trace of drool on his chin and hastily wiping it away.
“Yes, you dooo,” Eddie insisted, nudging Steve with an elbow.
“Fine. It was uh-” Steve squeezed his eyes shut, thinking, “a swimsuit model, the one on the cover of-”
“Bullshit,” Eddie cut in, “you suck at lying, dude. Just tell me who it was. You owe me.”
“Owe you for what?”
“‘For what?’ He asks,” Eddie scoffed to an imaginary audience, then pulled up the cuff of his jeans to show Steve his shin, “For this!”
Steve raised an eyebrow, “wow there's a leg under there, I’m shook.”
“No, there’s-” Eddie stopped short, running a hand over his leg but not finding any marks, “look, there will be a bruise there from how hard you kicked me last night.”
“So you're saying I have to tell you all my secrets because I accidentally kicked you in my sleep?” Steve asked, trying to follow the logic.
“So you admit there's a secret!” Eddie declared, pointing a finger in Steve’s face.
“Eds…” Steve deflated, exhausted by Eddie’s persistence.
“Come onnn, man. Just tell me,” Eddie threw up his hands, “is it someone I know?”
Steve opened his mouth, stuttering on the beginning of a word until he gave up with a huff.
“It's totally someone I know,” Eddie grinned, pleased with himself.
“Can we just drop this? Please?” Steve deflected, unwrapping his legs from his blanket so he could get up.
“Not when we are sooo close to the truth,” Eddie replied triumphantly, scooching towards Steve and leaning in so he couldn’t escape. “Come on, dontcha trust me?”
“It's not that-”
“Hey dumb dumbs-” Robin interrupted, suddenly poking her head around the archway that led to the kitchen, “we’re making pancakes, but if you want to eat you have to help.”
“What kind of pancakes?” Eddie squinted at her suspiciously, momentarily distracted from his interrogation.
“Chocolate chip.”
“Well that's my cue,” Eddie said brightly, his stomach winning out against his curiosity. But as he got up to follow Robin, who had already disappeared around the corner, he paused, playfully nudging Steve with his foot, “I haven't given up. You're going to tell me who you were dreaming about.”
“Or what?”
“Or you'll hurt my feelings,” Eddie pouted, tracing tears down his cheeks with his fingers sarcastically as he backed towards the archway then made a break for the kitchen. His new mission was pancakes; and also finding out why Robin and Vickie had disappeared so early.
Steve sat alone in the living room, staring after Eddie, flustered and annoyed. Visions from his dream danced in front of him: brown eyes returning a longing stare; tangled dark hair bunched in his hand; lips bruised from insatiable kissing; calloused fingertips running down his back; a denim vest lying forgotten on the floor.
Steve pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “I was dreaming about you, dumbass.”