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It’s a little over a week since Vecna got defeated, and Steve’s got an uninvited guest at his house.
Uninvited is not the same as unwelcome, obviously. Frankly, Steve’s glad to have some company. Really glad. Although technically, Eddie Munson is still supposed to be on bed rest.
Doctor’s orders were two weeks; the demobats got the guy pretty roughed up, taking several juicy bites out of his torso before they all went down along with their master. He got patched up pretty quickly, but his overall weakened state from massive blood loss, the doctors’ concerns of infection and possible Upside Down creature-related consequences, and that annoying little matter of clearing him of the ridiculous murder charges all kept Eddie on a government-sealed floor of the hospital for a whole week, with no visitors allowed.
It’s no wonder that when he was finally discharged to go home, he lasted three whole days before showing up on Steve’s doorstep, unceremoniously inviting himself in and complaining about being so bored he was about to start clawing at the walls of his bedroom.
And, well… It’s Steve’s day off anyway, and his entire planned entertainment for the day was a potential lunch phone call from Robin to gossip and complain about how impossible Kieth is to survive a shift with.
Plus, at least it’s better if Eddie hangs out at his place instead of going out somewhere and doing something stupid that would get him to pop his stitches. Like climbing a tree. Steve hasn’t known Eddie for long, but in a way, he’s known enough to suspect something like that might happen.
But the best part is, Eddie Munson turns out to be really good company. For the first few minutes after the guy arrived, Steve’s a bit worried it would be quiet and awkward; after all, what did they have in common besides the whole Upside Down trauma (definitely not a fun conversation topic)? But the idea that it could be quiet with Eddie around turns out to be absolutely laughable. The guy keeps chatting about anything and everything, from how annoying it is to keep track of all the meds he’s supposed to take to random gossip from the trailer park. He’s vibrant and chaotic, and has a dry deadpan sense of humor that Steve finds himself genuinely laughing at; and pretty soon, he starts wondering if him and Eddie could actually be friends back in high school if the whole ridiculous system of social circles didn’t exist.
Halfway through some other half-finished thought, Eddie suddenly asks, “You hungry? I’m kinda starving, Wayne’s getting groceries tonight and the only option I had for breakfast was, I shit you not, a fucking box of Honeycombs, and honestly? I’d rather eat a demobat. Well, if it was cooked, maybe. Hey, d’you think roasted demobats could be a thing?”
He keeps rambling as he walks, with Steve trailing behind him, grinning and shaking his head because… well, damn. This guy sure is something else. Maybe exactly the kinda something Steve didn’t even know he needed in his life. Honestly, he’d probably say the same thing about Robin last year. Is this some profound universal balance thing? Out of something horrible must come something really good?
Eddie makes his way into Steve’s kitchen easily, like he knows the layout of the place; which as it turns out, he does, from being to several of Steve’s parties for business reasons, so to speak (with a pang of guilt, Steve realizes he can’t even remember Eddie ever being there). And then, when Steve what Eddie wants, his guest rolls his eyes and makes his way to the fridge himself.
“I’m not gonna make you cook for me, dude, I’m not one of your ungrateful children. Oh, sweet, a whole buttload of cheddar! Some butter… hey, got bread? Awesome. Gimme a skillet, I’m making us grilled cheese, sound good?”
It’s only after they’ve eaten and cracked open a couple of cokes that Munson’s confident demeanor slips a little, something soft in his features as he looks up at Steve.
“Hey man, uh… Thanks for like, letting me in and putting up with me, I guess. You’re kind of the only one I thought to go to when I jumped in my van this morning.” Something squeezes at Steve’s heart, hearing that. “I just… I can’t deal with being around… normal people, you know? With all the potential questions and shit. Like, I’ve memorized that whole damn cover story, Victor Creel copycat, serial murders, yadda yadda, and I swear never in my life did I have a problem with lying, pretty damn convincingly, too, but this? This is just so…”
“Messed up,” Steve finishes for him, nodding.
“Yeah.”
Eddie falls silent, staring at his empty plate, seemingly lost in thought. He looks even skinnier than the last time Steve saw him; he wonders if these sandwiches are the first proper full meal Eddie’s had since… well, probably since Chrissy died inside his trailer, considering he basically lived off junk food while on the run. It would make sense; the first time Steve was faced with the whole monsters ordeal, he couldn’t really stomach much more than a few bites at a time for several days. Eddie’s cheeks definitely look a little sunken, which only makes his already big eyes look absolutely huge.
Eddie’s eyes are what Steve’s gaze keeps getting drawn to. But another thing is Eddie’s hands, one of his signature rings tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on the can, the forefinger of the right hand fiddling with the tab, back and forth until it finally snaps off. Steve watches as these fingers slightly tremble despite squeezing the can in an effort to conceal that; he has a sudden flashback to that day they were going through their insane plan of stealing an RV, of how sure and practiced the moves of those same fingers were, despite the nerve-wracking situation they were in. Must have been the adrenaline.
Steve shakes himself out of his stupor; it’s really not the time to be ogling the guy right now. He needs to break this sudden gloomy mood and get Eddie out of whatever’s caused that haunted look on his face.
“Hey,” he speaks up. “I’m not, by the way. Putting up with you, I mean. You’re cool.”
As he says it, a shy smile briefly makes an appearance on Eddie’s face. But it’s gone in a blink, replaced by his signature grin as the guy leans back in his chair and presses a hand to his chest, gasping theatrically.
“Steve Harrington thinks I’m cool. Oh, man. My life is officially complete.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve tells him with a matching grin, standing up to carry the plates over to the sink, and leaving them to be a problem for Later Steve. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
***
Out of the small pile of tapes Steve has yet to return, Eddie fishes out Dune with an excited whoop! The movie’s been confusing as hell the last time Steve watched it with Dustin; but with Eddie at his side, actually answering his questions about the plot instead of shushing him all the damn time, he finds himself enjoying it.
Not enough to sit still, though. Like anytime these past days that Steve can’t keep himself busy enough to distract himself from the annoyance of his own damn skin.
He tries to be subtle about it, slowly moving side to side to rub his back against the cushions behind him, but after several silent glances, Eddie finally speaks up.
“Dude, are you okay? You’re acting like a bunch of ants crawled up your ass.”
Steve snorts miserably.
“I wish. Might actually be more pleasant than… ugh. Fuck, don’t mind me, it’s just annoying.”
But instead of turning his attention to the movie, Eddie does the opposite. He pauses with the remote and turns to fully face Steve, frowning.
“Okay, what’s annoying? What’s up?”
“It’s my back.” Steve wriggles again, sighs. “Remember when those vines dragged me into the Upside Down? Well, I got a bit of a… road rash sort of situation here.”
“Oh… Yeah, I remember.” Eddie winces in sympathy. “Shit.”
“Yeah. In a way, it’s worse than that goddamn bat bite, ‘cos that still hurts but it’s small, but this shit’s all over my back… it was actually better when it was freshly injured, now it’s all scabs and healing skin and it’s been itching like hell these past few days. And of course, I’m not supposed to scratch it, but man that’s hard to do,” he chuckles.
“Fuck, and you didn’t say anything?” Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Dude, now I feel like a wuss, bitching to Wayne like a goddamn baby anytime I have an ouchie pulling my stitches.”
“You lost chunks of meat and like, a gallon of blood, and were in critical condition. Mine’s basically a surface wound.” Steve shrugs. “Like I said, don’t worry about it, it’s just annoying.”
Eddie regards him with a strange expression, his eyes wide and piercing.
“‘Just annoying’ doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to complain about it, you know. Or that you shouldn’t be taking care of it, for that matter, which by the way, how are you even doing if it’s your back?”
“I shower twice a day, check in the mirror that it’s clean and not infected… and, well. That’s it.”
Eddie keeps staring at him.
“That’s it? Didn’t the lab doc give you something to use on it?”
“Oh… uh, yeah, that…” Steve chews on his lip. “I mean, yeah, he gave me some kind of healing cream. But I can’t exactly reach my back except the top of my shoulders, so obviously I’d need help with that…”
“Uh-huh. Obviously”, Eddie deadpans.
“But seriously, it’s… pretty damn gruesome, dude.” Steve winces. “And everyone’s still getting over everything that happened, I couldn’t just… force that kind of reminder on anyone.”
A long silence stretches between them, uncomfortable for the first time since Munson stepped through his doorway this morning. When Steve glances over, Eddie looks… almost angry, although Steve can’t put a finger on why.
“So, like…” Eddie takes a deep breath and then starts speaking in a strained, barely-patient tone Steve’s only heard him use with Dustin before. “You’re intentionally keeping yourself extremely uncomfortable, just so you don’t make anyone else a little bit uncomfortable?”
“Reliving the memories of the Upside Down doesn’t exactly fit in the ‘little bit uncomfortable’ category, doncha think?” Steve bites back, wishing Eddie would drop this already. “Man, you saw Robin’s face when she saw my bat bite. I can’t make her look at all this! I’m absolutely not asking Dustin, either, it’s bad enough you almost bled to death in his arms.”
“What about Wheeler? She’s tough as nails!”
Steve winces at the mere idea.
“You know I can’t ask Nancy. Things are awkward enough as it is, it’s all weird and strained between her and Jonathan, how d’you think he’s gonna react to the idea of his girlfriend going over to her ex’s place on a daily basis to rub his naked back?”
Eddie stares at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, tilting his head, and for a second there, Steve’s actually worried he’s gonna offer another of his extremely valuable insights into Steve’s relationship with Nancy (what was that even about, back then?!), but thankfully, Eddie doesn’t.
Instead, he just raises his eyebrows and asks, “Okay, so?”
“So what?” Steve frowns, confused.
And okay, for the most part, he’s gotten used to Eddie’s occasional weird gimmicks. But right now, it catches him off-guard, the way Eddie’s eyes go comically wide and he starts frantically patting himself all over.
“Oh shit, hang on, am I real? Do I exist? Hey, Steve!” He jumps right into Steve’s space and starts waving a hand and snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Hello! Can you see me?!”
Steve snorts at the ridiculousness of it all and rolls his eyes, batting Eddie’s hand away.
“Jesus Christ, dude, yeah I can see you, what the fuck?”
Eddie drops the dorky act and presses his lips into a thin line, annoyed for a reason that escapes Steve until he speaks up again, in a more normal, albeit strained, tone this time.
“Literally not once did you think there’s someone who’s also been through all this freaky shit, has been out of the hospital for three whole days now, who’s very much used to gruesome reminders on a daily basis, considering they are, surprise!, on his actual goddamn body,” Eddie lifts his shirt a bit to expose his bandaged torso, then lets it drop back, “and therefore would have no issue with helping you out? I mean…” He shrugs, suddenly deflated. “Yeah, sure, I get that noone wants the Freak to touch them, but—”
“What?” Steve interrupts, his mind racing to grasp the meaning of the whole tirade. “What the fuck, man, no! That’s not why— Jesus.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “You were hurt way worse, I didn’t wanna… Was I supposed to knock on your door like, ‘oh hey man, I know you barely know me and also you’re like, on a dozen painkillers after nearly bleeding to death, but could you rub some cream on the little booboo on my back’?”
“Uh…” Eddie blinks. “Yeah, exactly that. What’d you think I’d say? ‘Thanks for saving my life, but actually I’ll pass on helping you out’?” Eddie tilts his head with a genuinely perplexed expression.
Steve’s not sure what to respond to that. Yeah, Eddie’s got a point, except something that he said was exactly why Steve discarded the idea of turning to him almost immediately when it occurred. If Steve saved his life (a bit of an overstatement in Steve’s opinion, his role being merely carrying the guy’s unconscious body through the gate and then running all the red lights on the way to the hospital), of course he’d feel obligated to help, however much in pain he was himself. It just felt wrong to exploit the guy’s gratitude like that.
“You’re a weird one, Harrington,” Eddie says after another pause, still looking at Steve with those wide, attentive eyes. “I can almost hear the gears turning in your head, and I don’t like how they sound. So. I’m here, I’ve got two perfectly capable hands,” he raises them and wriggles his fingers to demonstrate. “Stop thinking and go get that goddamn cream of yours. Doctor’s orders.”
“Yeah, like you’re one to follow them,” Steve grumbles, already getting up and heading for the bathroom where he thinks he must have left the tube.
“Do not turn this on me, young man!” Eddie yells from behind, and Steve can’t help chuckling to himself.
And as he hits the light switch in the bathroom, it suddenly hits him. That Eddie doesn’t seem to be doing all this because he feels obligated. That he probably cares.
***
“So. This is supposed to moisturize your skin, reduce irritation and also, Steve, guess what, provide itch relief,” Eddie looks up from reading the back of the cream tube and raises an eyebrow. “It’s almost as if… no, wait, no fucking way. Like, if you actually used this like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t be behaving like a flea-infested bear. Can you imagine?”
“Get out of my house, asshole,” Steve shoots back, not worried that Eddie would take his words with any degree of seriousness, considering he’s grinning as he tosses a pillow at Eddie’s face.
“Right, of course, my liege, after we get a nice thick layer of this wonder balm on you,” Eddie replies, laughing. “Okay, turn around and lose the shirt.”
“Jesus, buy the guy a drink first or something,” Steve jokes, and he thinks he sees Eddie’s cheeks flush a little pink at that (huh… something to think about), but his determined expression doesn’t change.
“I made you grilled cheese sandwiches, I say that counts,” he replies with amusement, but Steve catches the little bit of caution there.
As he holds Eddie’s obviously tense gaze, within seconds, every interaction he’s had with the guy back then runs through Steve’s head like a fast-forwarded tape. Yeah, so he was definitely not imagining things. Those huge doe eyes trailing down his torso when he took off his sweater in the boat; the constant personal space invasions; the weird compliments and long, meaningful looks.
It’s probably the worst timing ever, for everything to click in place just as he’s about to get shirtless here for nothing but practical reasons, and not exactly in an attractive context given the gruesome state of his whole back. But that part of himself that he’s carefully hidden inside most of his life, astounded by the realization that it might actually be safe to be let free, claws its way out to the surface like a feral starved creature, completely oblivious to the inappropriate circumstances.
“Yeah, okay,” he says around his best, most charming smile, and watches as the tension visibly drains from Eddie’s posture, despite his expression remaining carefully guarded. “That counts.”
In a few beats, a small, uncertain smile appears on Eddie’s face, even with his eyes still wide in confusion; and that’s the moment Steve chooses to finally turn his back on the guy. He’s not exactly looking forward to ruining… whatever just transpired here, but it’s better to get it over with; and so, in one quick move, he drags his T-shirt over his head.
He expects a gasp. A shocked ‘whoa!’. Something. Not silence, though. And then—
“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve.” Eddie’s voice breaks on his name. “Little booboo? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s fine. It’s just a—”
“If you say just a surface wound one more time, I swear I’m going to kick you… well. Somewhere you’re not injured, obviously. Holy fuck, dude, this looks terrible.”
“Told ya,” Steve says with a sigh.
“No, not like—” Eddie sputters, then his voice softens. “It’s pretty badass, honestly. But also really fucked up that this happened to you and you were dealing with this on your own.”
Steve almost jumps when he feels the first contact against his skin. It’s just a finger, the faintest touch, tracing the edge of one of the scabs at the top of his right shoulder blade. Then, it’s gone.
“Hang on,” Eddie mumbles. Steve glances over his shoulder and watches him take off his rings one by one, before placing them on the coffee table. “Don’t want them accidentally catching on your scabs, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve nods, looking straight ahead again. “Right.”
When Eddie’s hand returns, his touch is more firm, slick with the cream he starts applying to Steve’s back. He’s slow and careful, only using two fingers to spread the cream across Steve’s skin, inch by inch, and fuck, Steve has to bite on his lower lip so as not to make any embarrassing noises because it feels really good. Eddie’s fingers are by no means soft, probably from his guitar calluses, and it’s not exactly a scratching sensation but something close. The almost perfect mix of friction, pressure and the coolness on his skin from the freshly applied cream.
It’s completely unconscious, the way he starts moving, trying to get Eddie’s fingers to the most itchy spots, and Eddie seems to completely misinterpret his actions as he pauses to ask, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
Steve laughs. “No, really, that’s not… Honestly, I wish you had claws, actually. Like a cat or something. Or better yet… what’s that comic book guy? Oh, Wolverine.”
Eddie cackles as he moves to spread more cream across Steve’s left shoulder blade.
“Dude, no. We don’t want your wounds opening up and bleeding all over this nice couch.”
“You could… kind of… go like, around the scabs, you know?”
Eddie pauses again.
“You literally want me to scratch your back,” he says, clearly amused.
Steve groans. “Yes. Definitely, do that. Please.”
“Hmm, I love it when they beg.”
Steve freezes, speechless for a second. His face suddenly feels several degrees warmer.
“Oh my god, shit, sorry, that was—” Eddie begins mumbling awkwardly, moving away, and Steve won’t have it.
“Dude, you mind not flirting with me while I’m suffering here?” He says in as light a tone as he can muster, heartbeat thudding in his ears.
Eddie’s silent for a long moment. Almost too long.
“Uh, so… Just when you’re suffering?” He finally asks, something vulnerable and almost fearful in his voice.
“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, relaxing. “Literally any other time would be preferable.” He glances over his shoulder with a smile, and watches the way Eddie’s eyes widen before he laughs, obviously relieved. The guy drops his head and shakes it, the curtain of curly hair falling across his pink face.
“Wow. You really are full of surprises, Steve.” He squeezes a bit more cream onto his hand. “Okay, lemme just get this done first… you have some scrapes on your lower back, too.”
Steve hums, turning away again. His lower back doesn’t feel as itchy, but he’s starting to enjoy Eddie’s careful touches for a whole other reason. It’s been a while since someone touched him beneath his clothes, and even if the context is kind of platonic…
Or is it? He thinks back to what Eddie just blurted out, and even if it was only meant as a dirty joke, the way Eddie caught himself and got obviously embarrassed… He’s almost certain that Eddie’s interested in him, and even being up close and personal with his currently least attractive feature doesn’t seem to affect that. But the all-too-familiar to Steve wall of caution remains in everything Eddie says or does.
So Steve decides to go all in.
“So is this what that weird comment of yours was about, earlier?” He asks quietly.
“You gotta be more specific than that, Steve.” Eddie snorts. “I’m told a whole lot of shit I say is weird, apparently.”
“About noone wanting the Freak to touch them.”
For a second, Eddie’s hand on his back pauses, but then resumes its circular movements, rubbing the cream into his skin. He doesn’t respond, though.
Steve clears his throat.
“So, um. Just to be clear. Definitely not something you should worry about here.”
Eddie mumbles something under his breath.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Nothing, shit, just… you’re not very subtle, are you?”
“Says the guy who, just a while back, got all up in my face to tell me how badass and metal I am.” Steve smiles and finally allows himself a quick glance over his shoulder.
Eddie’s face is still very much pink-hued.
“That… okay, that doesn’t count, I totally thought I wasn’t gonna make it by the end of that week. It was a ‘crossing items off the bucket list’ type of situation.”
“Flirting with me was on your bucket list?” Steve quickly turns away, although he’s pretty sure his smug grin is still obvious just from the way he sounds.
“What the fuck.” Eddie’s voice sounds like he’s buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this conversation is happening and I haven’t been elbowed in the face.”
Ditto, Steve thinks momentarily. He feels almost nauseous, except in a good way, if that makes any sense at all.
“Are you gonna scratch my back, or do you actually want me to beg?” He takes another peek over his shoulder.
It’s amazing, how quickly Eddie’s face goes from pink to fully crimson. But at least that accomplishes Steve’s goal of getting Eddie’s hand back on his skin. This time though, he can feel the blunt of two nails gently running paths between the various scrapes and scabs; and dear god, does that feel infinitely better than the pads of Eddie’s fingers.
Of course, most of the itching actually comes from underneath the scabs, where his body is attempting to regenerate his torn skin; but the scratching around them actually does help. Like an illusion of relief. Or just a really good distraction?
He’s barely aware of the little pleased grunts and hums he’s been letting out, until he hears Eddie curse behind him.
“Fuck, dude, you gotta, like… stop making these noises.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Steve chuckles through a muffled groan. “This is probably better than sex, I swear.”
“Jesus Christ…” Eddie mutters, but his nails keep moving, right along the middle of Steve’s spine now.
“Oh. Oh yeah, right there, oh my god, that’s amazing. A little lower?”
“You’re doing this on purpose now, aren’t you?”
Steve bites his lip. Eddie sounds a little winded; is this… really affecting him the way Steve thinks it is?
“Maybe a little bit,” he admits. “So can I ask you a question? What else is on your bucket list?”
“Leaving a dead rat in Mrs. O'Donnell’s purse after I pass her fucking final,” Eddie deadpans after a beat, finally dropping his hand just before it reaches the waistband of Steve’s jeans.
Steve laughs. He was hoping for a different answer, but of course he should have expected Eddie to deflect like that. And suddenly, it’s easy as breathing to fully turn around and meet Eddie’s eyes.
“Thanks for this, Eddie. I definitely owe you one.”
He’s not sure if it’s the cream starting to work, or Eddie’s gentle nails finally, literally, scratching that itch that’s been driving him insane. Or maybe that he’s all too consumed by the elation of openly flirting with a boy, for the first time in his life.
Either way, Steve feels infinitely better than he did just ten minutes ago. The unpleasant sensation over his skin doesn’t fully go away, but it’s certainly more manageable now. He feels a little silly now about putting up with his discomfort this whole time.
“Yeah, uh… sure,” Eddie replies shyly, and Steve doesn’t miss the way the boy’s eyes trail down his chest before he grabs his T-shirt to pull it back on. “Ahem. Okay, so that was… certainly interesting.” Eddie quickly slides his rings back on and starts fiddling with the one on his forefinger, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “I suppose you’d like me to go now.”
“What the hell gave you that idea?” Steve frowns. “We still got half a movie to finish… for starters.”
With a shaky sigh, Eddie looks up at him.
“Are you absolutely sure you want me to stay, cos, like… man, I feel like I’m about to do something stupid. I’m not misreading the signals here, right? This isn’t some sort of next-level game of gay chicken I don’t know about?”
“What the fuck, no,” Steve laughs softly, shifting to sit closer. “I mean… hang on, that was a lot of questions.” He begins counting on his fingers. “No, I’m not playing anything and no, you’re not misreading things. Hopefully, neither am I. Definitely yes to you staying.”
Eddie’s eyes are even bigger up close. It’s kind of hard to look away from them now; still, Steve’s gaze instantly shifts down at the brief peek of Eddie’s tongue, darting out to lick his lips.
“As for you doing something.” Steve swallows and leans even closer, his whole body humming with hope and anticipation. “I don’t think it’s gonna be stupid, so go right ahead.”
Slowly, Eddie brings one hand up and slides it along Steve’s cheek, his eyes following the movement until he cups the side of Steve’s face. His fingers still smell faintly of the cream he’s applied to Steve’s back; it’s a distinctly chemical scent, but not really unpleasant. His thumb moves, barely a twitch at first, but then a bit more surely, swiping gently at Steve’s cheekbone.
He still doesn’t move in, though, and Steve doesn’t want to push. It’s kind of the longest prelude to a kiss he’s ever experienced, and… actually, he doesn’t mind Eddie taking his time. So instead, he raises his own hand and brushes a curly strand away from Eddie’s face (holy shit, that poor hair definitely needs conditioner, he notes in the back of his mind). That makes Eddie’s eyes snap back to meet his own again.
“Uh, sorry,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “This is… about as far as I usually get before ending up with a black eye or spit in my face,” he explains with a wince. “Fucking Hawkins, man, I was starting to think I’m, like, the only one in this hellhole.” He rolls his eyes. “Literal hellhole, as it turns out. Hey, maybe all the queers around here just get sucked into the Upside Down.”
Steve bites his lip, trying not to laugh at how accidentally on point Eddie’s remark is. He can’t exactly say anything about Robin, or Will and Mike for the matter (considering that one’s just his personal hunch).
What’s more important, though… he was right about staying patient.
“Well, for the record, I’m not gonna spit on you. Unless you’re into that sort of thing…”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie ducks his head, laughing silently. When he looks back up, his eyes are sparkling, that cute button nose wrinkled apologetically. “Shit, I’m totally ruining the moment aren’t I?”
“Not really.” Steve smiles, resting his hand on the side of the boy’s neck. “You’re kind of adorable, actually. A real tease, though.”
Eddie looks like he’s about to reply, but when Steve closes his eyes and brushes their noses together, whatever that was just dies in his throat. He huffs a breath that Steve can feel against his mouth, and then, finally, finally, there’s a gentle touch of warm, slightly chapped lips against his own.
It’s over way, way sooner that Steve would like, and he chases Eddie’s mouth before it has the chance to move away.
“This your first kiss?” He murmurs softly against the boy’s lips.
He can hear Eddie swallow, then inhale shakily.
“Wonder what gave it away? I’m smooth as butter over here, no?”
“Totally.” Steve chuckles and takes the initiative this time around, tilting his head and pressing his mouth more firmly into Eddie’s, drawing a tiny moan out as the boy’s lips part to let him in.
And it doesn’t even matter if the kiss started off a little awkward. Because once Eddie seems to stop overthinking all his moves, it turns absolutely perfect, deep and enthusiastic and with more pushback than Steve’s used to getting from girls, something he finds really damn hot all of a sudden. There’s a faint scratch of stubble against his lips, which is also new, and also a thing he finds he doesn’t mind at all.
It’s both a blessing and a curse, when they have to part because Eddie suddenly yelps and grabs his side. Right, the stitches. A really good reminder that they should both take it easy, neither of them in a shape to take this any further. Wherever that might be.
“You okay?” Steve asks, reaching to brush his fingers against the boy’s knuckles.
“Uh. Yeah.” Eddie looks up, sheepish, still panting a little from the kiss. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
They’re not kissing anymore, but Steve feels reluctant to leave the other boy’s space, the warmth radiating off of his body and the faint smell of cologne and cigarettes; and it seems like Eddie feels the same way, staying close and looking at Steve with a shy smile.
“So…” Steve grins slowly, teasing. “Was this possibly on your bucket list?”
Eddie chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“Fuck off. I plead the Fifth.”
Steve laughs and pulls him in, throws one arm around his shoulders and reaches for the remote before settling back comfortably.
Perhaps one day he’ll discover what else was on this guy’s list. For now though… cuddling feels like just what the doctor ordered (he really didn’t, but it feels great, so who cares).