Archive of Our Own

“Oh goddamn it,” Steve cursed, striking the top of the steering wheel with his palm.

Checking the passenger seat, foot well, and even inadvisably behind him, Steve confirmed that he had in fact left the most important component of the evening back at home. Sitting on his desk, in fact, where he had carefully wrapped it in expensive, flocked wrapping paper and tied it up with a bow, after six frustrating tries. No, his dumb ass had absolutely walked out of the apartment and driven twenty fucking minutes down the road without his mother's birthday present.

It wasn't that she would care about the time he'd put in to hunting down her favorite perfume, not available online because that would be too convenient. No, it was only sold at the sort of boutique fashion shops that practically had a dress code just to walk inside. He'd worn a dress shirt and oxfords for fuck's sake, not unlike what he was wearing tonight, minus the suit jacket in the bag hanging from what Robin called the ‘oh shit!’ handle. None of that mattered anymore, because he was going to be late for her dinner at Tarantini, where his father would drop some people's weekly salaries on three plates of food.

Cursing his own name, Steve took an exit and turned around, hoping to god he didn't cross paths with the highway patrol going thirty miles over the speed limit all the way back home.

The apartment was quiet when he walked in, though Eddie's van had been in the parking lot and the living room lights were still on. The usual music wasn't blaring from his bedroom, either. Thinking he might be reading or taking a nap, Steve quietly set his keys down on the counter that jutted out from the open kitchen and headed down the hallway, congratulating himself on avoiding the two squeaky boards.

A deep groan reached Steve's ears as he stopped dead outside their shared bathroom, drifting out from Eddie's partially open door. Steve hesitated, wondering if he should call his father and make up an excuse to bail on the evening. Eddie had idly mentioned taking a nap earlier; Steve was loathe to leave again if Eddie had suddenly gotten sick, or had another of his nightmares.

Sometimes Steve couldn't believe he had only known Eddie for about a year. The unlikely source of their friendship was the freshmen who adopted Steve like motherless ducklings after he saw them walking back to campus far too late at night. Two of their number were violently ill off punch at a party they never should have been at in the first place. What else could he do but offer them a ride back – once the sickness had passed.

The troupe had developed a habit of calling him when they were in trouble, or just needed a ride, or both. Honestly, they were good kids, just magnets for chaos who got way in over their heads far too often – even for freshmen. They were also inveterate nerds, and introduced him to Eddie, who ran some sort of dorky dragon game for them with ridiculous rules and weird-looking dice. They'd even tried to get him to play, which – no. Surrogate motherhood had its limits.

Surprisingly, he and Eddie had gotten along like a house on fire, and now here they were a year later, sharing an apartment just off campus. It wasn't fancy, but it wasn't exactly a dump either. They had piled rugs over the worn floorboards in the living room and put up colorful thrifted curtains. Steve was even managing to keep a few plants alive. Robin and the kids came over for pizza and movie nights, making the space feel more like home to Steve than his parents’ house ever did.

All of this was to say that he cared about his little family, Eddie in particular, maybe a little more than he should. Eddie had terrible nightmares sometimes, the sort that woke him up screaming and twisted in his sheets, or sometimes falling out of bed altogether. Steve had spent a few of those nights sitting up with Eddie, making them both hot cocoa and watching stupid shit on TV. Once Steve had wrapped them both up in a blanket and let Eddie snuggle close, needing that physical comfort after whatever godawful thing stalked him in his dreams. It was nice, just as natural as breathing, and Steve had started wondering what it might be like to have that all the time.

And look, Steve wasn't gay, all right? He loved women, loved their curves and their softness and the way they smelled. Loved waking up beside them after a good date or maybe just a fun hookup that went well enough to warrant sleeping over. Loved their tits, and their pussies, and the sounds they made when he went down on them.

But there was something about Eddie that made Steve feel all warm inside, different from getting hot and bothered … at least most of the time. He would admit to jerking off about it once, after Eddie had fallen asleep with his head in Steve's lap, both of them stoned off their asses. Steve had found himself stroking Eddie's hair, soft as any girl's, and just as pretty. He'd tucked some of it behind Eddie's ear, and Eddie had woken up, turning those gorgeous brown eyes on him with a sleepy smile.

Earlier that night Eddie had gotten changed for a house party in front of him without a care in the world, and for some reason the vision of that pale, bony ass wouldn't leave Steve's head. Neither of them scored a hookup, or even bothered flirting all that much, sticking close to one another by some silent, mutual agreement. They had left early, getting into the brownies Eddie made the night before in an insomnia fueled fit of baking, and ended up curled up together on the couch.

Steve had almost kissed him that night when they stumbled down the hall to their separate beds, both ending up in Steve's because it was closer. He still remembered the way light from a nearby streetlamp wrapped around Eddie like some sort of aura, lending him an ethereal glow. Steve thought he looked like something out of one of those movies, the super long ones the kids liked, about elves and magic rings. He'd woken up with Eddie wrapped around him like some kind of octopus, rocking the world's most inconvenient boner. Sneaking out to deal with it in the shower, Steve thought about Eddie, the way he looked in the light, and what might have happened if he'd stayed.

So when he heard the sound of a potential nightmare coming from Eddie's room, it was with the best of intentions that he drew closer, peeking through the gap in the partially open door. It – wasn't a nightmare. At all.

No, from the look of pure bliss on Eddie's face, eyes closed, one hand on his substantial erection, he was doing pretty damn great. And Steve would have turned right around and walked back down the hall to his doorway, grabbed the package and left, except for one thing. One really fucking weird thing that he had a feeling would be haunting his dreams, one thing that actually made him worry for Eddie's safety.

In his other hand, the one not stroking his cock slow and steady, the flushed skin shiny with lube or maybe just spit, in the other hand was a long silver rod that looked kind of like a pen, or maybe the metal part of a screwdriver. Eddie had inserted that rod through the slit on his swollen glans and was moving it up and down, up and down, his mouth hanging open, and moaning about it.

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was he doing? Wouldn't that hurt? Couldn't he puncture something or get an infection that way? And why the hell did it make Steve so hard in his briefs that he thought he might explode? His skin felt too tight, and Steve could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and why the hell was he still standing there?

Eddie's hand moved faster along the shaft, the grunts and groans growing louder as Steve stood watching like some kind of pervert. Was he a pervert? It was just hypnotic, was all, the way Eddie's hand was sliding up and down, up and down, now turning the rod, now lifting it up and letting it drop, now pulling it out altogether and arching his back with a series of ah, ah, ah's, rising in pitch and volume —

Steve must have shifted his weight, because the hardwood floor beneath his feet creaked. Loudly. Eddie’s eyes flew open and the world slipped into slow motion as he turned his head. Steve froze like a goddamn deer in oncoming traffic as a panicked look crossed Eddie's face, quickly replaced by something else, something worse or maybe better, Steve couldn't decide right then because Eddie's cock jerked hard and he came like a fucking fountain.

Eddie's face went slack as his dick continued to twitch, his hand sliding up and back down as if he couldn't stop, his entire body jumping in response. He let out a few ragged breaths, chest heaving, and Steve did the only thing he could do. He turned and very slowly walked into his room, standing there for a moment trying to remember why he was there in the first place before spying the box on his desk. Grabbing it, he turned with every intention of fleeing the apartment when he found his path blocked by Eddie, still breathing hard and now wearing a pair of green rayon shorts that Steve was pretty sure were actually his.

“What the actual fuck?” Eddie said, running a hand through his hair and getting stuck in a tangle.

“Me what then fuck, what about you what the fuck?” Steve responded intelligently. “With the – the thing you were jamming in your piss hole, what the fuck was that, Munson?”

“My piss hole, Harrington? Really?” Eddie could not have looked more unimpressed.

“Fine, your urethra, happy?” Steve retorted, hands on his hips.

“No, I am not happy,” Eddie said angrily, “because it turns out my roommate is a complete creeper who hides and watches people jack off."

Steve's cheeks were hotter than the surface of the sun, and he knew his face had to be as red as a lobster with shame. Was he going to admit to it? Hell no.

“It sounded like you were having another nightmare, all right?” Steve deflected. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And just how long were you standing there, making sure I was okay?”

“Just a second, I swear,” Steve lied. “When I saw you were, y'know,” he gestured vaguely. “I left.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Eddie said acidly. “But I assure you, I can get off all on my own.” He was halfway out the door when he stopped, hand on the frame. "And it's called sounding, you can google it yourself."

So Steve did. Not right then, of course, he was too busy fleeing the scene like some sort of criminal, calling his parents to tell them he'd be late, and sitting through a thoroughly awkward dinner with conversation borrowed from the scripts of every year before that. Except for their disappointment in his untimely arrival, which hadn't happened since back in high school when he was going down on Nancy Wheeler and completely lost track of time. He couldn't help it; as had been previously noted, he loved pussy.

If he couldn't stop thinking about what he had seen, about the way Eddie's cock had been so hard it looked strained, how it was nearly purple at the tip and the way the vein along the top stood out as he stroked it; if he couldn't stop thinking about the way it kicked and spilled, so much and so thick, about the look on Eddie's face when he came and how he couldn't pull his hand away even when he knew Steve was watching —

Did that mean he liked dick, too?

Steve wasn't stupid. He knew bisexuality was a thing, he had just never really considered that it might apply to him. Now that he was considering it, the lingering glances in the locker room, the way his eyes roved across his teammates’ bodies in the shower in total violation of the bro code, all of it made a lot more sense. At the time, Steve had thought everyone did it, but just didn't talk about it lest god forbid, someone called them a queer. Thought it was judging his own body in comparison to theirs, just a dick measuring contest, no harm no foul. Maybe he had been wrong about that.

Eddie's van wasn't in the parking lot when Steve eventually got back after midnight, having driven aimlessly around his home town for an hour after dinner, then another hour once he got back to campus. He couldn't think around Eddie, not tonight.

Eventually, after nearly running himself out of gas, Steve sucked it up and went home, relieved to have the place all to himself. Then he started thinking about where Eddie might be, who he was with, if he was hooking up with someone to avoid Steve. The thought made him unaccountably irritable, but it sort of always had. Every time Eddie came back from a night with some random guy, or even just a few hours, it made Steve itch. He'd told himself it was because Eddie seemed to get more ass these days than him, but Steve just hadn't felt like going after it lately. The realization that it might have been because he would rather be home with Eddie honestly wasn't all that surprising.

Eddie was his second best friend, if you could have those. Robin seemed to share his brain most of the time, but Eddie just sort of … fit in the strangest way. Steve never would have expected the way Eddie's edges matched with his, smoothing out the jagged pieces, blending and blurring like they had that night on the couch. He wouldn't trade Robin for the world, but Eddie fit a different part of Steve, if one just as important. Maybe more different than he had always thought.

Sticking the second order from Tarantini in the fridge, Steve poured a glass of water and headed for his bedroom, too tired from overthinking to do much of anything but try to sleep. Well, that or do exactly what Eddie had told him to do. Plopping down in his desk chair, Steve opened his laptop and waited for it to flicker on, typing in a search for a single word: sounding.

After reviewing five separate definitions provided by the search engine, none of which were what he was looking for, Steve tried something more specific. Sounding your cock. That hit the jackpot, providing him with everything from a Wikipedia article to links for porn. Deciding to start at the former and knowing he might well end up at the latter, Steve settled in to read.

It didn't take long to realize that there was a lot more to the practice than just sticking something up there. Steve marveled at all the different types of sounds, metal ones like Eddie's or made from silicone, some with ridges or even spheres along the rods. Fuck, some of them were huge, both in circumference and length, and Steve got shivers just thinking about using them.

Then there were the videos. He found plenty on a forum devoted to the practice, mainly people filming themselves while using them. After thirty minutes or so of watching, Steve had officially seen more dicks in one evening than he had in his entire life, locker room indiscretions included, and several intense orgasms. Most of the videos showed fairly good-sized cocks taking larger sounds, as if showing off, and Steve honestly couldn't blame them. A few showed cleanly waxed skin sporting silken or lacy panties, some with added garters and stockings accessorizing the act. Steve wasn't entirely sure why he found those even more arousing, but he did, and filed that thought away for later.

Then there was the last video he came across, this one on a dedicated porn website. A man sat naked and blindfolded in a chair, arms linked behind him with padded cuffs, and a tray of varying implements beside him. A woman stood to one side, starting with simple, thin rods, and progressing through larger with differing textures as the video went on. At first she simply gripped the man's erection, steadying it while inserting the sound and moving it up and down to a rhythm that matched the music in the background.

Then she began stroking his length with the sound inside, slow and steady as Eddie had done, leaving off from time to time just as the man got close. His cock jerked hard, but he didn't come until she allowed it, pulling out a rod with beads increasing in size along the shaft. His back arched, knees spread wide, mouth hanging open, and Steve had never seen so much come in his life.

By this point he was painfully hard in his shorts, and Steve shoved them all the way down his legs, kicking them under his desk. There was a small wet spot where the tip of his cock tented out his briefs, and he slid his thumb through it, dragging the fabric across the tip. It felt amazing, and he cued up another video from the same account before he slowly moved his thumb around in a circle, the spot of wetness growing. A different man, skinnier but with a longer dick, took a lengthy sound accordingly while Steve continued to tease himself, gripping his cock and stroking it through the fabric. The woman was a bit rougher on this man, showing him bent over a small bench with a hole through which his cock extended. She alternated jerking him off while spanking him hard, and his entire body shook with it.

Steve was glad he had the place to himself when he let out a loud moan. Unable to stand the tease any longer, he pulled down his briefs, tucking the elastic below his balls and took himself in hand. Stroking slow at first, he spread the precome down his shaft, loving the slide while never taking his eyes off the screen. The man's face was red and he was moaning along with Steve while the woman traded out her hand for some kind of paddle. It was absurdly, intensely hot, and it wasn't long before Steve felt himself getting close. He left off, not ready for it to end just yet, only returning for short, quick strokes until the man on screen neared his own climax. Moving his hand faster, Steve twisted his hand around at the top, thumbing the frenulum twice before the man froze, his cock spilling over with the sound still inside. That was what did it, watching a stranger over the internet come untouched, most of the milky fluid trapped inside. Steve shot his load, cock jerking hard in his hand while forgetting to cup his hand around the tip, much to the detriment of his desk.

He shuddered and shook through the aftershocks while the man groaned, the woman stroking his hair and praising him for his efforts. Steve pretended she was talking to him, telling him what a good boy he had been, holding out as long as he could. Yeah, Steve thought. He was definitely into this.

After a quick clean-up, both of himself and the desk, he fell into bed exhausted. It had been a long day full of revelations, and he slept like a log until the sun rose, straight through his alarm. Managing somehow not to be late, he was out the door and across the street to Robin's place in record time, arriving out of breath.

“What happened to you, dingus?” she asked, opening the door to find him bent over, hands on his thighs as he caught his breath.

Taking the offered oversized tumbler of water, Steve took a deep drag through the straw before letting his breathing even out. “So much, Birdie,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “Up for some TMI this morning?”

“Always,” she said with a grin, linking her arm through his as they walked the rest of the way.

She came to regret her answer as they kicked their way through piles of leaves on their way to class, punching his shoulder and making gagging sounds. Despite her exaggerated reactions, Steve was even more sure now of what he wanted. He just had to come up with a plan to get Eddie on board.

The morning dawned clear and cold, the sky overhead a perfect, crisp autumn blue. Eddie timed his arrival back at the apartment for when he knew Steve would be in BioChem at the other end of campus, in the hopes of avoiding the inevitable fallout. Well, for now anyway. Eddie knew he'd have to deal with it at some point, that point probably being when Steve kicked him out of the apartment for which he paid three quarters of the rent. Eddie supposed he could couch surf for a while, or live out of his van. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, and probably not the last.

Unfortunately, the universe wasn't in his corner on this one. Eddie had just gotten out of the shower and was rummaging around in the kitchen for some snacks that actually belonged to him, instead of mooching from Steve's stash as usual, when he heard the jingle of keys in the door. Effectively trapped, he could only wait for the inevitable confrontation as hiding in his bedroom at this point would involve a mad dash directly across Steve's line of sight, clad only in his Jack Skellington boxers. That left him with one option: play it for laughs, and offer up some weed in apology. Eddie figured there was an extremely slim chance he could come out of this with their friendship – and his housing – intact.

To be honest, the friendship would be the bigger loss.

“Hey Eds,” Steve said casually as you please, waltzing into the kitchen.

“No, ah, no morning class today?” Eddie asked, trying to mirror Steve's unconcerned demeanor.

“Nah, prof had a family emergency but I didn't get the email until I was halfway there, so I just grabbed some breakfast with Robin at the Pit.”

“And what, no breakfast biscuit for me?” Eddie said with faux offense.

“Finished the carbonara already?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What carbonara?” Eddie asked, the part of him that was always hungry sitting up and wagging its tail. He couldn’t help it; between his brain on overdrive any time he wasn’t stoned off his gourd, and the fact that some part of him was usually moving, he could eat at least four meals a day and be happy. He generally averaged out at about two.

“The bucatini carbonara I brought you home from the restaurant last night, doofus,” Steve said, opening the fridge and gesturing. “It’s in the foil container labeled EDDIE in bright red marker.”

“Bless you, Harrington,” Eddie said, only belatedly realizing that his use of Steve’s surname, usually reserved only for emphasis and jokes, might harken back to his attempt to put metaphorical distance between them. Steve glanced away quickly when Eddie looked over to check his expression. Fuck. “Seriously, thanks man,” he added. “I'm running a little low on groceries until my paycheck hits.”

“I've got you,” Steve said, waving his hand as if it was no big deal. Daddy's money came in handy that way.

His parents had wanted him to go to school in his home town, probably to better keep an eye on him, but the state school had a pretty great MBA program to follow up the degree he was supposed to be earning in business admin. Steve was still in their good graces for the time being, until they inevitably found out he was planning on switching to Education. He'd been stockpiling cash like a goddamn squirrel preparing for winter, even got a part-time job at the campus library. Eddie was impressed, and it meant even more that Steve would share his groceries with him in light of his subterfuge.

Hopping up on the counter while Eddie nuked a bowl of instant oatmeal, Steve swung his feet back and forth. “So I googled it,” he said, and the blood froze in Eddie's veins. He jumped when the microwave beeped in his ear, having forgotten what he was doing in light of Steve's statement.

“Googled what?” Eddie asked, digging out one of the spoons he liked from the drawer. They were thin and flat, unlike Steve's slightly heavier plastic ones in every color of the rainbow, and perhaps most importantly, black. Like his soul.

Steve snorted. “Sounding, dumbass,” he explained, and Eddie could hear the good natured eye roll in his tone.

Were they – could they maybe be fine? Steve didn't sound weirded out. Then again, Eddie really should be the one weirded out, but there was a reason he had come like some kind of porn star when he noticed Steve standing there. The look on his face had been apologetic, shocked, and fascinated all at once, and Eddie really wasn't sure how he managed that. The point was, realizing the guy he had a massive, like so big you could see it from space, all-goopy-with-inconvenient-feelings kind of crush had been watching him was all sorts and shades of hot in the moment. Embarrassing as hell once he came back to earth, and a little infuriating too, but that was mainly the shock. He'd been walked in on before, just not while doing anything quite like that.

Steve had been around a lot lately, was the thing, and Eddie hadn't had a chance for more than a relatively quiet wank after going to bed or in the shower for a while now. The opportunity to really let loose and possibly scandalize the neighbors was too good to pass up. Not to mention he really needed the light on and a little time to use the sounds properly, which was just inconvenient when you were supposed to be going to sleep.

“Okay,” Eddie said slowly, unsure of how best to spin the situation. It wasn't like he could play dumb; he'd told Steve to look it up, for fuck's sake.

“I gotta ask, okay, has it ever hurt?” Steve asked, his expression curious and open. “I mean, there are pages out there, like real doctor kind of pages, that say it's dangerous and you could injure yourself but then I found —”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie said, stopping with the spoon halfway to his mouth. Leaning back against the sink, he shook his head. “One, it doesn't hurt, and two you're not gonna cause any damage if you're doing it right.”

“How would I know if I was doing it right?” Steve asked, an odd look on his face that almost seemed, well, conniving.

Eddie sputtered. “There, ah, there are videos out there.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, PornHub is a thing, genius,” he said. “Found those. But that's not exactly instructional.”

“And you what, want to try it? Because you're not borrowing my kit.”

It was Steve's turn to stammer. “What? No, I wouldn't ask to use yours,” he clarified. “You can get ‘em online. I looked,” he added, without an ounce of shame.

“I mean, I'd be careful with that,” Eddie said slowly. “I got mine at a shop that I trust.”

Steve nodded. “Okay,” he said, clearly considering that bit of information. “Maybe you could show me sometime?”

Eddie fumbled the bowl, nearly dropping it on the floor and ruining his breakfast. “Pretty sure I gave you a show last night,” he mumbled, reaching for a napkin.

“Yeah you did,” Steve said slyly, before seeming to think better of it, rubbing one hand at the back of his neck. “Look, I'm really sorry about that, dude.”

He sounded genuinely apologetic, the expression on his face not unlike a golden retriever who knows he chewed up the pillow while you were away, but hopes you still love him anyway. Eddie sighed. He wasn't mad, not really. He had been, he guessed, but this morning he was really more worried about how things would shake out between them than pissed off about Steve's little Harriet the Spy routine.

“It's okay,” he said. “As long as you're not gonna like, kick me out for being a total weirdo or something.”

Steve grinned. “If I was, I would have done that a long time ago. Besides,” he added. “You pay rent? How could I kick you out?”

“As someone who's been kicked out before, rent notwithstanding, I assure you there's precedent.” Eddie knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't help it. When his last roommate situation went south, it headed straight for Antarctica.

“I'd miss the hell out of you, man,” Steve said, fiddling with a string on his jeans. “So no, not kicking you out.”

“I am pretty irreplaceable,” Eddie said with a grin, maybe just the slightest bit giddy at hearing Steve say that he would miss him if he were gone.

“Yeah,” Steve said, giving him a soft smile. “You are.”

As time went on, Eddie figured Steve had forgotten about the entire incident, or at least the part where he had asked Eddie to fucking show him how to use a sound. Things were back to normal, or at least what passed for normal between them. They still got high and watched bad reality TV, bitched about their professors, and cooked dinner together some nights. Steve still sat up with him until the wee hours when his subconscious tormented him with memories of the house fire, dreaming about running inside to save what he could, only to find the items missing from his hands as soon as he got back outside.

He still hadn't explained to Steve what he dreamed about, the fire or the bats in his best friend's barn that mobbed him when Eddie accidentally disturbed their colony in the middle of the day. They hadn't bitten him, thank god, so no rabies shots, but in his nightmares they always did. Tiny teeth tearing into him over and over again, until he bled out in a pile of hay, staring up at the loft he'd tumbled down from. That wasn't a story he was particularly eager to share, either.

Steve had jumped up from the couch that morning at the noise of something hitting the ground outside their door, returning with a small box. Setting it on the table to open it, he pulled out a leather case and Eddie's stomach flip flopped. That looked like it could be —

“Hey, they finally got here!” Steve announced.

“What, ah, what got here?” Eddie asked, feigning ignorance.

“The sounds,” he said, holding one up for inspection. Thin with small bumps along the shaft, it reflected the light from the hanging lamp with a mirror-like shine. Steve hadn't just gone for a basic set with rods of varying thickness, no, he had to opt for one with more advanced pieces. Eddie shook his head. Of fucking course he did.

He was going to hurt himself, Eddie was sure of it. Fuck. Fuck and goddamn it all.

“So uh,” Steve started, and now Eddie's stomach had moved on to acrobatics. “I watched some videos. Like instructional ones, not just porn,” he clarified.

“Good for you,” Eddie said, his ears slowly filling with static.

“I'm still not sure I really get it, though,” Steve pressed. “I was kind of hoping for something more…hands-on.”

Hands-on, Eddie repeated to himself in his head. Hands-on, what the fuck, what the fuck? What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say?

“So what you're saying is that you want me to jerk you off,” Eddie said, as flatly as he could manage.

“No!” Steve protested, looking nervous for a moment before his expression morphed into pensive, and finally resolved. “I mean, unless you want to.” A flush started high along his cheekbones as the words hung in the air between them.

“Unless I want to,” Eddie repeated, the static in his head growing louder.

Of course he fucking wanted to, he would do just about anything to get his hands – or mouth – on Steve's dick, the problem would be what would happen after. Would he say thanks, dude, and never bring it up again? Would Eddie have to listen to his moans through the wall when he was using the sounds thereafter? Would their friendship devolve into awkwardness until Eddie couldn't stand it anymore and left of his own accord?

Steve shifted his weight, eyeing Eddie carefully for a moment before slowly sliding the metal rod back into the case. “Okay. Let's just forget I ever said that, then,” he suggested, looking somewhere past Eddie.

“No, I —” Eddie put a hand on his knee when his leg started bouncing.

“No?” Steve asked, and now he was the one who looked nervous.

Eddie sighed, tugging on his hair. “I don't want you to fuck around with those and end up hurting yourself,” he admitted.

“So,” Steve said, elongating the vowel until it trailed off.

“So, yeah, I'll show you how to use them. On you – if you want.” Eddie couldn't look at him, couldn't see whatever expression Steve might have on his face at the moment.

“Thanks,” Steve said, sounding a little breathless, and okay, that was definitely a thing that Eddie wanted to hear more of. “Um, what are you doing tonight? Cause I've got class in like thirty minutes, and I told Robin we could grab dinner after – if you want to meet us, or have me bring you back something, we're going to Char-Grill over on Hillsborough.”

“Cheeseburger with everything?” Eddie asked with a hopeful grin. “Oh, and a double chocolate cherry shake?”

Steve smiled back, looking relieved that the tension had at least gone down, if not broken entirely. “Only you, dude,” he said, dredging up their longstanding argument over fruit in milkshakes. “Catch you later. With burgers. And that abomination.”

With that, Steve grabbed his messenger bag from the chair at the table and headed out, completely forgetting the tumbler full of iced coffee he'd left on the counter. Eddie hauled himself to his feet, hoping to catch Steve in the parking lot. No one deserved to go uncaffeinated. He had just reached the door, when it opened with a rough yank and he suddenly found himself nose to nose with Steve.

“Coffee,” Eddie said stupidly, shoving the mug at him.

“Thanks,” Steve said, taking it from where Eddie had pushed it against his chest. He stood there for a moment, unable to move, until Steve spoke again. “Keys,” he said.

“Keys?” Eddie repeated, unaccountably confused.

“I, uh, forgot those,” Steve explained, rocking back on his heels.

“Oh,” Eddie said, reaching for the hook by the door Steve had put up so Eddie would stop losing his. Pulling them down, he handed them over.

“Those are yours,” Steve said, looking down at the acrylic rainbow that read death metal in a bubbly font.

“Oh,” Eddie repeated, swapping them out for the set with a tiny bird whistle, Robin's idea of a joke. “Sorry.”

“So, I'll uh, see you later?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” Eddie said, nodding slowly.

“Cool,” Steve said. “Okay, leaving now. Again.”

Eddie watched him power walk down the hallway toward the stairs, knowing he would probably be late for class at this point. It was some sort of statistical analysis lecture, something that would make Eddie fall out of his seat and die from sheer boredom. Steve wasn't officially changing his major until the spring semester, and dropping out of classes you had already paid for didn't make a whole lot of sense, even if he wouldn't be teaching 5th grade statistics.

At least Eddie knew he wasn't the only one anxious about tonight.

By the time Steve got back, Eddie had washed his new sounds in the hottest soapy water he could manage and let them dry on a towel, carrying them into Steve's room that way to keep them clean. He even washed off his bottle of lube before setting it on the bedside table. Taking a shower, Eddie threw on loose clothing and paced the floor until he was sure he was wearing a track in the living room rug. He debated making a playlist, then decided that was too corny. He wasn't seducing Steve, for fuck's sake. Just helping a guy out.

Right.

Eventually Steve got back, and they danced around both the subject and each other before Eddie suggested he should take a shower. The less potential for bacteria the better, as he saw it. Nobody wanted a UTI. Eddie sat on the bed and waited, constructed of nothing but a tangled mess of nerves, until Steve appeared in the doorway. He had a towel slung around his hips and nothing else.

Eddie's anxious thoughts ground to a halt. By the time he dragged his eyes up from Steve's happy trail to his actual face, Steve was wearing a bit of a smirk. Bastard, Eddie thought. The guy had to know that Eddie was at the very least attracted to him at this point, if not the full extent of the crisis.

“Okay,” Eddie said, standing up and clapping his hands together. “I'd wear gloves, but I don't have any, sorry. Some people do this as part of a medical kink, y'know, but as I actively hate going to the doctor for anything, seriously even for a physical, that's not really in my repertoire.” Eddie stopped and took a breath.

“Yeah, I uh, I saw some of that,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose in that way he had that was so goddamn cute Eddie couldn't stand it. “Not for me.”

“Okay, well, that's settled,” Eddie said. “Just, uh, put on a shirt if you want to, socks, whatever, doesn't matter, then I guess you should just get on the bed.”

Only in Eddie's wildest dreams had he imagined telling Steve to get on the bed, and his dick reacted accordingly. Telling it to settle the hell down, he left to wash his hands again. When he returned, Steve was fully naked on the bed, propped up a bit on a study pillow. Eddie could do this. Really, he could. He would just be professional about it, clinical, detached. Think about it as though Steve was a submissive and Eddie was his —

He very definitely, most certainly could not do this.

Steve must have read the indecision on his face. Glancing away, he drummed his fingers on the duvet. “It's okay, dude, we don't – you don't have to do this. I'm an adult, I can figure it out for myself.”

“No, that's not – we're good,” Eddie said. “I'm good. Little nervous, I can cop to that, but good.”

“Just don't stab me or anything,” Steve said with his own nervous laugh.

“I won't,” Eddie promised. “Scout's honor.”

“You weren't a boy scout,” Steve said with a scoff.

“No, but I played a ranger once who was the party's lookout,” Eddie said with a grin, and this time Steve's laugh was genuine. Score, Eddie thought. One point for Munson.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “Guess we're doing this. First thing is that you can never have too much lube.” Picking up the bottle, he squirted a line out onto the first sound, narrow and not too long, with a ball at the tip. It was pretty difficult for one to get stuck, but the last thing they they needed was for one to slip down where Eddie couldn't retrieve it. No one wanted that trip to the ER.

"Oh, um,” Eddie said, cursing his lack of forethought. “Sorry, I should have – you kind of need to be, y'know, hard. First.”

Steve's eyes met his, and for a second Eddie thought Steve was going to ask him to do that, too. He was partially there already, but not enough for Eddie to safely put one of the rods in. Then Steve reached down, taking his half-hard cock in his hand and giving it a long, slow stroke.

Eddie was not going to survive this.

Letting his eyes drift shut, Steve kept going, his hand moving at a measured pace. He was circumcised, which Eddie had figured on the many, many times he had thought about it. Families like Steve's were usually easily taken in by the whole ‘cleanliness’ argument. As an inveterate practitioner of self-gratification, Eddie was glad his parents hadn't bothered.

“Little dry,” Steve said, holding one hand out, palm up. For a moment Eddie thought he was meant to spit in it, then he remembered he had the lube. Steve mumbled his thanks as Eddie dutifully squeezed out a good amount.

The way now eased, Steve quickly worked his cock into a solid erection and stopped, gripping the base. “Good?” he asked, his voice sounding tight.

So good, Eddie thought. Steve had one of the most gorgeous cocks he had ever seen. It had length and girth and a perfect head like a mushroom cap and he was seized by the sudden impulse to pull it down with one finger and let it snap back up. He didn't, but it was a near thing.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, voice catching on something in his throat. He wanted to swallow Steve's cock down, to show him what years spent eradicating his gag reflex could do. “That's real good, Stevie. Okay. Here goes.”

Adding a little more lube to the sound for good measure, Eddie positioned it above the head of Steve's cock. Taking a deep breath to steady his hand, Eddie lined up the rounded-off end of the rod and slipped it just barely inside. Steve's eyes flew open and his lips parted.

“Still all right?” Eddie asked, trying not to sound nervous.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out. “Weird, but – kinda awesome, too.”

Eddie let the rod slide in a little farther, taking his cues from Steve's expressions and the sounds he was making, which quite frankly were seriously hot. Eddie felt himself start to chub up in his sweatpants despite the anxiety and knew he was in trouble. Continuing on despite the risk of his own boner, Eddie slowly pushed the rod down just a bit more before beginning to pull it back out.

“Oh, holy shit,” Steve said, his cock twitching.

“Kind of incredible, right?” Eddie said, smiling despite his vow to remain stoically professional about the whole thing.

“Yeah, wow,” Steve said.

“Should I keep going?” Eddie said, his voice a bit lower than he intended. The implication was pretty clear; you want me to get you off?

Steve didn't answer for a moment, and Eddie was certain he was about to be kicked out when Steve spoke. “Yeah,” he said, focused on where the rod emerged from the head of his dick. “Yeah, that, um. Please.”

A light dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks, and something inside Eddie melted, as it always did when he managed to make Steve blush. Once a rare occurrence, it had been happening more often lately. Eddie had chalked it up to lingering embarrassment over walking in on Eddie, but he began to think it might be something else. Don't get your hopes up, Eddie admonished himself sternly. Just because he asked you to depth sound his dick and maybe jerk him off about it doesn't mean he wants anything else from you.

Sliding the rod almost all of the way out, Eddie gave it another coat of lube and pressed it slowly back in. He gave it a slight turn, first this way, and then that. It was something he liked, so Eddie figured he might as well try it. Steve let out a groan before checking himself, eyes nervously flicking to Eddie's as if he'd overstepped.

“It's okay,” Eddie soothed. “You're allowed to enjoy yourself, that's kind of the whole point.”

“It’s not too weird?” Steve asked, the nervousness returning.

Eddie gave him a look, raising his eyebrows, then glanced down at Steve's dick before meeting his eyes again. “Babe, that ship already sailed.”

Steve looked worried for a moment, so Eddie pulled a face and stuck out his tongue. Because that wasn't making it weird, not at all. Then it hit him that he had just called Steve babe, and Steve hadn't protested. That Steve was flushed, his eyes a bit glassy, and he was looking at Eddie with something like fondness. It was too intimate for whatever this was, too gentle and knowing, so Eddie let go of the sound.

Steve made a gorgeous noise, his eyes widening as it slipped deeper inside, all the way to the ball at the top. God, Eddie could spend hours just toying with him, teasing him, working their way up gauge by gauge until he could see the outline of it through the skin. Reaching for Steve without his higher brain's approval, Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve's on his cock and slid it up from the base.

Steve's head fell back, his free hand grabbing the covers. “Oh my god, Ed,” he groaned out on an exhale.

“Still good?” Eddie questioned, needing to know it was okay.

“Real good,” Steve said as Eddie moved their hands along the shaft, sliding easily up and down with the lube gathered between Steve's fingers.

Shifting his weight to keep his balance, Eddie went back to the sound with his right hand, lifting it up and pressing it slowly back down, trying to keep a rhythm opposite to their strokes. Squeezing out a bit more lube onto the rod, it went back in nice and easy as he continued his efforts. It was insanely hot, watching it rise and fall, and Eddie was as hard as Steve now. He just hoped Steve didn't notice.

What, because that would make it any weirder? Eddie almost laughed at the thought. They were light years beyond that now.

Steve's breaths came fast and shallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Delightful whimpering sounds rose from his throat as Eddie picked up the pace, giving Steve's hand a gentle squeeze. He stroked faster and a little more roughly, but nothing like he would have done if there wasn't a solid core to his cock. Eddie imagined it, the way his hand could be flying over the shaft, eased by lube or maybe just his own spit, claiming it.

“Don’t stop,” Steve begged, as if Eddie could just stand up and walk away, as if he wasn't absolutely captivated by the creature before him. “Please, Eddie —”

“I won't,” Eddie managed, his throat suddenly so dry the words tried to stick. “You close, sweetheart?”

Steve nodded quickly, his hips hitching up when Eddie turned the silver ball again to twist the rod below. “Fuck,” he said, interrupted by a moan. “Fuck, Eddie, gonna come.”

“That's right, baby,” Eddie said, speeding up his strokes near the base even more and lifting the sound almost all the way out, teasing the head with short, quick thrusts.

Steve's hips rolled up, squirming as if he couldn't keep still. Eddie understood the feeling. His cock jerked in their grip, and Eddie pulled out the sound, twisting his wrist as he brought their hands all the way up. Letting the head just barely slip through, Eddie kept a firm grip as Steve's back arched off the bed. He came with a shout, hips snapping up over and over again as he spilled over Eddie's knuckles.

Working him through it, Eddie’s own cock throbbed, and he regretted not bothering to put on any boxers beneath his sweats. Steve let out a long broken moan, spurting again and again, their hands still joined along the shaft as it kicked hard in their hands. His hips gradually slowing, Steve collapsed against the pillows, falling back down to earth. Somewhat nonsensically, Eddie hoped it was a soft landing. Leaning over to deposit the sound on the towel and wipe off his hands on the spare, he felt a tug on his shirt, and then again, harder. Yanking him down, his fingers fisted in the fabric, Steve raised up just far enough to capture Eddie's lips in a fierce kiss.

Time slowed to a standstill. Even if it was just this once, just in the moment, Eddie determined to enjoy it. Memorize it, even, the way Steve's mouth fit against his, the way he moved with purpose, his tongue flicking out against Eddie's lips. It sent electric sparks dancing along his nerves, to finally have something he had thought about so often, fantasized about, dreamed about. Cupping Steve's cheeks in his hands when he finally had to pull back, just for a moment, just to draw breath, Eddie leaned against his forehead.

“Please tell me you meant that,” he said against his better judgment, hearing the strain in his voice, the words quieter than Eddie meant.

“I've been wanting to kiss you for ages,” Steve said. “Didn't want to fuck things up, but – the way you were looking at me, and this —” Reaching down, Steve cupped Eddie's cock through his worn sweats, hard as iron.

Eddie’s hips rocked forward into the touch and he drew in a sharp breath. “It was so hot,” he said. “I couldn't help it, you were just so gorgeous like that Stevie, so perfect.”

“Really?” Steve asked in a small voice, as if he didn't know.

“You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Eddie said. “All the time, not just like this. And not like, just your face, or your frankly amazing cock, you're —”

Steve didn't wait to hear any more, tilting his head to the side and kissing Eddie again. Eddie groaned into it, tilting Steve's chin up to make the angle even better as he urged Steve's lips open with his tongue. It was everything, and it went on and on, Steve's hand sliding up and down the length of his erection through the sweats.

“Stevie,” Eddie gasped out. “Touch me, please, need you.”

Eddie knew Steve was still coming down from his own orgasm, but if he didn't come soon he might actually die, and besides, he thought he had definitely earned the right to be a little selfish. Steve's hand slipped beneath his waistband to wrap around his cock and stroke, slowly at first, twisting his palm around the head. Then, cruelly, Steve pulled away long enough to yank Eddie's pants down to his thighs and spit in his hand before returning to his task. He was immediately forgiven as the sensation turned from a spark into a wildfire, raging through Eddie's body.

“That's right,” Steve encouraged, not that Eddie needed much in that department. “Come for me, baby, know you need it. Want to see you.”

Eddie was so close, teetering on the absolute edge, and it was Steve's words that did it. Steve's hand was on his dick, his spit was slick and easing the way, and he wanted to watch Eddie come. His cock pulsed and jumped as the orgasm took over, racing through him and out of him to coat Steve's hips, even making it as far up as his chest.

“Nngh,” Eddie managed intelligently, struggling to find words and coming up empty.

Steve's hand didn't stop until Eddie winced from overstimulation, something he usually kind of liked but not right now, not tonight. Fighting the urge to collapse right on top of Steve, to lie in his own mess until they were both sticky with it, he pushed himself back up with a grunt.

“Washcloth,” he mumbled. “Gonna – clean. Up.”

“You have five seconds,” Steve said. “Any longer than that without you right here and I'll waste away and die.”

“Can't have that,” Eddie said softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Steve's forehead.

Standing proved difficult, beset by a sudden rush of dizziness, but Eddie pushed valiantly onward with his quest. His prince was filthy, and as his humble servant, it was Eddie's job to clean him up. Of course, Eddie considered, he could always use his tongue. Marking that thought for later, Eddie stumbled to the bathroom and returned as quickly as possible with a damp cloth.

“That was seven seconds,” Steve said upon his return. “I am deceased.”

“What you are is taking after my overdramatic ass,” Eddie said with a grin as he sat back down, fighting the urge to bounce as he did.

Wiping away the evidence of his astonishingly good orgasm, Eddie didn't stop there, wiping Steve's hand clean as well. Turning back, Eddie caught Steve watching him with an unbearably fond smile.

“Still good?” Eddie asked with a smile of his own.

“I'm fucking great,” Steve replied. “Are you, um, was that – okay?”

“Holy shit, Steve, it was better than okay,” Eddie assured him. “I don't remember the last time I came that hard, and that includes when you walked in on me.”

“Oh, um,” Steve said, suddenly looking self-conscious. “I'm still sorry about that, for the record.”

“I'm not,” Eddie said with a snort. “We wouldn't be here otherwise.”

“I think we would have gotten here eventually,” Steve said, his smile softly and a little shy. “Just not exactly like this.”

“We might have had to work up to it,” Eddie said, leaning in to nuzzle at Steve's cheek.

“We did kinda do this in the wrong order, didn't we?” Steve said with a small laugh.

“l don't know,” Eddie mused. “You did buy me dinner first.”

“Yeah, like a week ago,” Steve countered. “But I don't usually move in with someone before I've even kissed them.”

“We definitely should have done that first,” Eddie said. “Like, a long time ago, maybe when we first met.”

“Definitely,” Steve said with a soft sigh. “Get down here, I'm going to cuddle you whether you like it or not.”

“I happen to be a prodigious cuddler,” Eddie assured him.

“I'm too tired to figure out what that means,” Steve said, his eyes drifting shut.

“It means this,” Eddie said, lifting his shirt over his head and dropping his sweatpants before flopping down beside Steve and snuggling up close. Steve wrapped one arm around his shoulder as Eddie pinched Steve's nipple, then slung an arm around his waist. Steve gave a small gasp at the unexpected sensation, swatting at Eddie's hand.

“So” Steve asked, a sly little smirk playing along his lips when Eddie glanced up. “Frankly amazing, huh?”

It took Eddie a moment to think that far back in their conversation, and when he remembered he pinched Steve's nipple again. “Amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, show-stopping, I'm sure I could think of more adjectives, but I'm currently about to fall asleep in your arms, so —”

Steve stroked a hand over his hair and Eddie pushed up against his palm like a cat. “That sounds wonderful,” Steve murmured.

“Next time it's gonna be you in my arms,” Eddie said. “I'm vers like that. A total cuddle switch.”

Steve snorted, loud in the silence save for their breathing. “You're such a nerd,” he said with a slight shake of his head.

“Proud of it,” Eddie said. “Wouldn't have met you, otherwise.”

“Hey now, are you calling me a nerd?” Steve said, affecting false offense.

“You're definitely nerd-adjacent,” Eddie said. “You associate with too many of us for it not to rub off. It's catching.” He emphasized the statement by rutting against Steve's hip, drawing out a laugh that Eddie could hear through his chest.

“Go to sleep, nerd,” Steve said. “I need a nap after all that.”

“Just a nap?” Eddie questioned, not wanting to be kicked out just yet, or possibly ever.

“The night's young, babe,” Steve said. “And I've got ideas for how we can spend it.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Eddie said, craning his head up to plant a kiss of Steve's neck. Snuggling back down, Eddie lost himself to the comfort of Steve's heartbeat, slowly returning to a normal rate. He wasn't worried about deserting the moment in favor of dreams; Eddie knew they would only be of Steve.