Chapter Text
The first time Steve Harrington notices Eddie Munson, really notices him, he’s at a party. He’s had a few too many drinks, and a mix tape is playing psychedelic rock music through an intricate sound system throughout the house. Whose house? He’s not sure.
All he knew was that there was a theme. People all around are dressed as hippies. There’s more weed and shrooms here than there is beer or liquor, which he found rather interesting. People are lying across couches as smoke lingers through the air off lit joints, loosely held between fingers.
Most people have reached a sort of zen calm through the substances they’ve taken. Steve had barely had a few puffs off a joint someone had handed him, and he was aimlessly wandering around the pool outside when a commotion broke out near the house.
“What the fuck, man? I know for a fact you gave Becky the same amount for twenty dollars cheaper!”
When Steve looks up, he finds that Jason Carver has Eddie Munson pinned to the beige siding beside the deck.
“Well, to be fair, Becky isn’t a fucking asshole, so,” Munson shrugs, grin crooked as ever.
Jason lifts him a bit higher against the wall, and Eddie grimaces, hands wrapping around Jason’s wrists in protest.
Paint It Black by The Rolling Stones starts, the speakers bringing the music into the yard, and at the same time, Eddie kicks Jason right in the stomach, foot pushing up through his chest. Jason drops him at once, doubling over and heaving.
Jason’s goons lunge at Eddie as his feet hit the ground again, but Steve is quick to act. He doesn’t exactly know why, he just does. He reaches down, grabbing up the end of a coiled water hose and pulls it tight, the two of them tripping, knees slamming down onto the concrete.
Eddie, shocked, looks over at Steve.
“M’lord,” he bows to Steve, arm crossing over his stomach, and then promptly bolts, but not before flashing him a brilliant smile.
Steve can’t help but stare after him, completely speechless. He thinks it’s because he can’t believe what he had just done, but there’s another part of him that just short-circuits the second Eddie’s beaming smile became directed at him.
“Harrington?” Jason’s voice comes out in a strained wheeze, and Steve, wide-eyed, shrugs before also making his way out of the party.
The second time he notices Eddie is a few weeks later. Steve’s throwing a party for Robin. It’s her first real party with all the band geeks, though it hadn’t exactly been his choice. The band had met for their last pre-school rehearsal, and when Steve had gone to pick Robin up from Hawkins High, she meekly turned to him and gave him the most anxious smile he’d ever seen spread across her face.
“What?” he asked warily.
“Well, I might have told everyone that I’m friends with you now.”
“Uh… huh…” He’s waiting for it. He can already tell he doesn’t like where this is going.
“And I might have mentioned that your parents are out of town.”
“Mmhmm,” he says, eyes narrowing.
“So I was kind of maybe hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t mind that I’ve already invited everyone over to your house for a party?” she blurts.
“Jesus, Robin!”
“Please, Steve? I’ll make it up to you at work! I’ll cover your Saturdays for the next month!”
“How many underaged nerds are going to be at my house?” he groans as he puts the car in gear and drives.
Robin doesn’t answer; she just squeals and bounces in her seat as they drive off to the liquor store to get peach schnapps, her request.
It’s much more wild than he would have ever thought band nerds would get. Maybe they never have an arena to really let their freak flags fly, but they are completely and utterly wasted and gyrating around in a way Steve wishes he had never witnessed.
Private Idaho, specifically the party mix by the B-52s, is playing through his parents’ stereo and Steve doesn’t think he can hear this song again without picturing Benny fully thrusting robotically at the air.
The doorbell rings. He prays to God it isn’t the cops. He takes a deep breath, peeking out the peephole to see a gaggle of high schoolers. He groans as he opens the door.
“Nope. Nuh uh! Not happening. Leave!”
But lingering in the back is Eddie Munson with his damn little lunch box. He lifts a hand and wiggles his fingers in ‘hello’ to Steve.
That’s when Robin bounds over, arms circling Steve’s shoulders.
“So, like, I totally don’t care about being popular or whatever but like, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to look like the girl who threw a party so good the cool crowd showed up?” she says, smiling up at him as she hangs off his shoulder.
“Fine, whatever,” he says, moving to the side and letting people in.
Music gets changed up, the schnaps runs out, and beer runs more freely.
Steve sees him in a corner, Benny is buying something from Eddie. Eddie doesn’t look bothered at all by the prospective sale. He just pats Benny on the back and sends him on his way.
That’s when someone moseys up to Eddie. He’s tall, black mullet, and a smile that would rival the damn moon’s glow. He doesn’t exactly know why it bothers him when Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, a coy grin and a blush blooming across his face, but it does. He turns away, tries to find something else to occupy his time, like cleaning up cans and red cups.
It isn’t the thought of liking another man. No, he’s been down that road before. He knows what that’s like. There had been a brief stint in his life with Tommy H. Right before he got with Nancy, Tommy and Carol had gone through another ‘off again’ phase in their rather tumultuous relationship. Tommy had been lonely, and well, Steve had been there. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in the room when they had fucked before. He’d seen Tommy naked, he’d even made out with him to get Carol going once. Stupid shit he did when drunk.
This had been different. It started with the two of them getting a porn movie down in the back of the local movie rental. They watched it together, masturbating under the blankets right next to each other.
“Wouldn’t it be weird if we like… did that again…but I don’t know, maybe helped each other out?” Tommy asked with a laugh.
Two days later, they did. It started with hands and ended with mouths.
Practice got a bit weird after that. Tommy got more aggressive, always opting to be a shirt instead of a skin or vice versa. He wanted to guard Steve, wanted to be pressed against him. After one heated practice in particular, Tommy had waited until everyone had left before he grabbed the taller man and pressed him against the cold tile, fingers working him until he could comfortably slip inside.
The condom got flushed down the toilet, and so did their brief affair. Carol and Tommy reconciled a few days later.
Steve provided what he was always did, a pretty face and a good fuck.
No, Steve Harrington knew what he was. He’d worked that out with Robin during the summer since Starcourt burned down. They’d spent a lot of time lying on the floor of his bedroom, telling each other secrets. This was one of them, and Robin accepted him with open arms. Of course, she would. The two of them were separated at cosmic birth. He was pretty sure that whatever stardust made up their bodies, they came from the same star. There were no doubts in his mind.
White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane comes on.
And because they were made of the same stuff, here he was, cleaning up cups, wondering to himself if maybe he had a type. Not just dark curly hair and wide eyes, but awkward nerds. He’s dumping out a few half-empty cups when Eddie saunters his way into the kitchen.
“Your majesty,” Eddie says, rolling his hand in front of himself before bowing.
“What do you want, Munson?” In another life, he probably would have just called him ‘Freak’ but that version of himself is gone, and he’s happier for it.
“Just wanted to give you a token of my thanks, my liege,” he says, showing Steve his hands. “Nothing in my hands?” he asks.
“Sure,” Steve says, tilting his head. He picks up a sponge and some shot glasses and starts washing.
“Keep watching,” Eddie grins, suddenly producing a joint from behind his hand that was very much empty a second ago. “Eh?” he wiggles it in the air. The strain is good, he can tell by the aroma wafting off of it.
Steve reaches up to take it, but Eddie shifts his hands, and in a flash, the joint is gone.
“Nah ah ah!” Eddie shakes his head, wiggling a finger at Steve. “This is the good stuff, my liege, wouldn’t want to get soapy water on it.”
He waves his hand in front of the other, and suddenly the joint has returned. Steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He bites his lip to try to hide it. He turns his attention back to the dishes.
“Front or back?” Eddie asks, moving a bit closer to him.
“Sorry?” Steve’s head pops up, cheeks burning from Eddie’s proximity.
“Front,” Eddie’s hand presses flat against Steve’s front pocket, hand pressing against the dip of his pelvis, “or back?” his hand presses against Steve’s back pocket, fingers nearly gripping what he knew he was blessed with. Eddie leaned back against the counter, looking up at Steve.
“Back,” Steve breathes, trying not to show just how flustered Eddie ‘the fucking freak’ Munson is making him.
“What a great choice,” Eddie smirks up at him, “love a back pocket kind of a man.”
He tucks some of Steve’s hair back from his face before slipping the joint behind his ear. He winks at him before pushing off the counter and turning to leave.
“Why did you ask me about my pockets if you were just going to—”
Eddie turns around and just smirks at him. And then he’s gone.
The third time he sees Eddie is at the local fair. The school puts it on every year, the second-to-last weekend before school starts, to help raise money for the upcoming year. He’s walking around with Robin. She had a tray of chocolate bars that she was selling for band, but has since forced Steve to carry them and use his charm to get the mothers to buy candy. It’s as their making their second round that Steve sees him.
Steve knows that Eddie should have graduated the year before him, and he didn’t. Steve also knows that Eddie didn’t manage to graduate when he did. And so Eddie is there performing magic tricks to help raise money for the Hellfire Club. It was a club that Eddie had started in his freshman year, the year before Steve had arrived, but it hardly ever had more than five people in it at any given time.
Still, when he walks up to the booth, he can see that his sign says the money goes to creative endeavors like allowing the kids to make their own miniatures and build the little sets their characters will play on. It provides them with snack money and printer fees for their character sheets. Steve is leaning over, squinting at the words, when Eddie throws his hands up.
“Would you look here! We have a volunteer!” he cheers, pumping his arms in the air to hype up a crowd to circle around.
Steve’s head pops up, eyes wide as he realizes Eddie is talking about him. His cheeks burn at the attention, and people murmur. He tries to wave it off, tries to back away, but Robin is poking him in the ribs, forcing him to jump closer to Eddie.
“If it isn’t Hawkin’s golden boy himself, King Steve! Give it up for Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington!”
Robin holds out her hands for her candy tray, and Steve hands it over. In an instant, Eddie grabs at Steve’s wrist and lifts it up in the air. A small crowd has gathered and politely claps. He drops his hand away and picks up a deck of cards. He shuffles them dramatically, cards flipping from one hand into the other. He smiles as he twists the cards in his hands, getting them to look as though they’re hinged together.
“Once more, for good measure!” He says, shuffling them with a big flourish before fanning the cards out for Steve to pick.
“Go on, your majesty!”
Steve hesitates for a second.
“Oh, come on, they won’t bite!”
Steve reaches in, and just like that, Eddie pulls them back and flourishes the cards in a card spring.
“Hard,” Eddie grins, leaning in closer to Steve. “Unless you’re into that,” he whispers with a wink before moving back and fanning them out again.
Steve is quicker this time, grabbing up a card.
“You can show it, no worries!”
Steve looks the card over himself, the Jack of Hearts, before lifting it up and showing the crowd.
“Do me a favor, my liege, would you sign it for me?” he holds up a marker for Steve, and Steve does as he’s told, showing the card to the audience again.
“Fantastic! Now, place it down here on the table.”
Steve once again does as he’s told, and Eddie smirks.
“Isn’t he so good at following directions?” Eddie asks. The crowd hoots while Steve’s cheeks just burn at the praise.
Eddie picks up the card and shows it off again before folding it up.
“Now, my liege, open your mouth!”
Steve’s head snaps in his direction.
“What?”
“Awww, I think his majesty is feeling a bit scared. Can we all give him a round of applause!?”
The crowd starts clapping, Robin being the loudest. Steve rolls his eyes and opens his mouth. Eddie curls a finger at him until he leans over. Eddie carefully places the card onto his tongue.
“Bite down,” he says. Steve obeys. “Good boy,” he whispers, and Steve swallows around the card.
Eddie turns back to the crowd and shuffles the cards a bit before pulling another one out.
“Now, here’s a hefty one,” he holds up the card, the Ace of Spades. “I’m just going to do the same.”
Eddie quickly scribbles his name before showing the audience.
Eddie folds and places his card into his mouth before walking around the table and raising a hand to Steve, who takes it. Eddie’s hands are cool; the tips of them are calloused, probably from all the time spent playing his guitar. He doesn’t remember much, but he does remember Eddie playing with his band for the school talent show. Eddie pulls him from his thoughts, pulls him by the hand and spins him into his arms before dipping him. When he pulls him back up Eddie takes his own card out of his mouth and holds it up for Steve and the audience to see. In his hand is Steve’s Jack of Hearts.
“Your majesty, if you’d be so kind as to show your card,” Eddie says with a raised hand.
Steve pulls the card out of his mouth, and as he unfolds it, he can see Eddie’s name scrawled across it. But what Eddie had covered up with his thumb was his number. Steve swallows again, the crowd nearly humming with anticipation. He does as Eddie did and covers up his number as he holds it up for the crowd to see his signature on the Ace of Spades.
The crowd all cheer, and Robin nearly drops her tray of chocolate bars with how hard she’s clapping around it.
“Please, give another round of applause for King Steve!” Eddie says, raising Steve’s arm up into the air once again.
Unsurprisingly, after that, Eddie’s booth is quite a bit busier, and while Steve wants to stop and ask him how the hell he did that, he also knows he can’t with so many people there.
Instead, he walks around with Robin some more and shows her the card.
“You going to call him?”
“I don’t know,” Steve sighs softly.
It isn’t until they get in his car to leave that Steve feels something in his back pocket. He pulls it out and finds a Cherry Blow Pop. He asks Robin if she placed it there, and she looks at him like he has five heads.
He knows exactly who did and what it means.
That night, he sucks on the Blow Pop and thinks of Eddie, the card in his back pocket.
Another party. He remembers the days when the idea of a party would bring him a bit more excitement, probably with an exclamation point attached to it.
As of right now, he’s aimlessly wandering around some rich kid’s house as people fall over each other, and shout over the blaring music. Everything is layered; noises, people, the countertops with red cups. At this point, there are more layers of alcohol on the floor than in said cups, and right now he wants just a little bit of quiet.
The only problem with that is that he also really doesn’t feel like being alone right now. Not that his aimless wandering really helped with that case. He’d nod, smile, and wave around his solo cup. Not that there was much of that going on anyway.
He’d become a bit of a pariah as of late. What with helping Eddie escape Carver, throwing a party for the band geeks, and really falling from grace with that Scoops Ahoy uniform that most of the people in this town can’t seem to wipe from their minds.
‘Peaked in high school.’ It was something he heard quite a bit in passing. Girls wouldn’t take him seriously.
‘Washed up.’ He didn’t think he’d be called that at the ripe old age of 18, and yet, here he was.
Any other night, he’d probably just be at Robin’s avoiding all of this, but unfortunately for him, she was visiting her grandma Minerva for the weekend, the last weekend before school officially starts. So, not-so-unfamiliar strangers would just have to do for now.
Outside looked just as crowded as the inside, and he couldn’t even keep up with the number of people he’d seen headed upstairs, hand in hand. He takes a long gulp of his drink, eyes scanning the party when he sees a few people coming up out of the basement. One has a joint, the other a little baggy.
He knows what that means. He’s also painfully aware that in the last week, he’d done everything but call Eddie. He’d stood in front of his phone debating with himself enough, but never actually going through with it. He tips the rest of his cup back, wanting that extra bit of liquid courage. He leaves it in one of the many cup bouquets that are already littering the counter and makes his way to the basement. As he slips through the door, something in him screams to lock it, and he does.
It’s a completely different atmosphere. The basement is much cooler, much darker. It’s completely finished with a beautiful plush cream carpet and white walls that have near museum-like displays of movie posters lined up just right across them. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Alice in Wonderland, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. The only light is golden spotlights focused on each one of the posters. There’s a pool table, a large TV, and a stereo system with a turntable.
That’s where he sees Eddie. He’s standing right in front of the record player, dropping the needle on an album.
Come Together by The Beatles plays through the stereo system, Eddie nodding his head along to the music. He tilts his head back, eyes closed.
“Abbey Road?” Steve asks, and Eddie’s head snaps over in his direction.
“Hey,” he says, a bit breathy as though Steve had scared it out of him.
“Hey.”
“You didn’t call.”
“No,” Steve says, making his way over to the large brown leather sofa, settling down. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what.
“Look, if I read it wrong,” Eddie says, coming to stand in front of him.
“No, it’s—” Steve raises his eyes up to Eddie. He doesn’t really know what it is.
“Have you never…?” Eddie trails off the question, but Steve knows where it’s going.
“No, I have,” he says, much to Eddie’s surprise, his brows shooting up for a second, eyes blinking.
“And you…” Eddie tilts his head, eyes searching over his face. “Liked it?”
“Yes,” he hates how breathy he sounds. He hates how he feels like he’s being pulled into Eddie’s orbit. He hates how the golden glow of the lights around Eddie’s head looks like a damn halo.
Eddie reaches out, hooks a finger under Steve’s chin, tips his head up, runs a thumb over Steve’s bottom lip.
Without thinking, Steve parts his lips. Eddie tilts his head the other way, eyes locked on Steve’s. He reaches up with his other hand, tucks some of his hair back behind Steve’s ear, when he pulls his hand back, there’s a joint in it.
“Damn, Harrington, you haven’t smoked this thing yet?” he teases, twisting it between his fingers before placing it between Steve’s parted lips. “I put that there weeks ago.”
Eddie pulls out a lighter, flicking it until a flame bursts to life.
“Suck for me, baby,” Eddie whispers as he holds the flame up to the end of the joint.
“Don’t inhale, just hold it in your mouth,” Eddie says, and Steve obeys.
Eddie pulls the joint away. He tilts Steve’s head back and presses his thumb to his bottom lip again. Steve parts his lips, watches as Eddie leans down, his own lips brushing over Steve’s just slightly. His eyes flutter shut as he exhales. He can feel Eddie inhaling, can feel the way the smoke moves over his lips. He reaches up, grabs at Eddie’s shirt, and pulls him down on top of him.
“You’re really good with your hands,” Steve murmurs, trying to get to Eddie’s lips, but Eddie moves back.
He flops down on the couch beside Steve and smirks, “In more ways than one, my liege.”
“Stop that,” Steve glares.
Eddie keeps grinning to himself and takes a long drag off the joint.
“I’m really not trying to be that guy anymore.”
“Hard not to see you like that, honestly. I went through four years of you being that guy.”
Eddie hands the joint out to him, and Steve grimaces. Eddie moves to pull it away, but Steve reaches out and takes it.
“I was grimacing because I know how bad I was. I was an asshole. I was very much not a good guy. I don’t see why you’re bothering with me now,” Steve admits as he takes a hit off the joint.
“Hmm, well, seeing you be attached at the hip to Hawkins High’s most dorky lesbian has a bit to do with it. Not to mention seeing you with all those little baby nerds. When did you become such a babysitter?” Eddie asks as Steve passes the joint back.
“Long story,” he says, rolling his eyes.
Eddie only hums in response, taking the joint back from him.
There’s smoke curling up off the joint, the basement starting to look a bit hazy. The golden lights above the pictures start to form halos rather than spotlights. Steve stretches his arm out behind Eddie’s head and Eddie leans back, resting on it with his eyes closed as the music plays.
Eddie takes another drag, chuckling a bit as the song switches over to ‘Octopus’s Garden’. “This song is so ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Steve chuckles softly in agreement.
Eddie moves, nuzzling into Steve’s shoulder. “Did you know they actually blew bubbles in a bucket for this song?”
“I didn’t,” he says, trying to laugh off the nerves he’s suddenly feeling bubbling up inside him, much like the bubbles in the bucket.
“Mmm, really before their time. You know that their manager is gay?”
“Seriously?”
“Mmm, they keep it a secret, but everyone in the music industry knows.”
“How do you know?” Steve asks, looking down at Eddie on his shoulder.
Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, a coy smile on his face. “I know people,” his voice comes out teasing, fucking mysterious.
He’d seen that look on him before, with that other guy at his party. Now that the full weight of it was directed at him, well—
Steve reaches up, cupping Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie takes another drag off the joint, grabs Steve’s shirt and pulls him to him. Steve’s eyelids flutter shut, and his lips part. Eddie’s evading him again.
“Inhale,” Eddie says.
Steve does, takes the smoke, the breath out of Eddie’s mouth. His head swims a bit. He’s trying to get closer to Eddie, but Eddie’s keeping him at arm’s length. He practically whimpers, and he can hear Eddie laugh in the distant, floating part of his brain that’s still in the room. He feels Eddie shift away from him, he hopes to put the joint down.
“Be a good boy, Harrington. You’ll get a prize.”
“Please—”
“Shh…”
He feels the tip of Eddie’s tongue glide over his top lip, warm and soft. He tries to follow his tongue, but Eddie pulls back slightly.
The song switches over to ‘I Want You (She’s So Heavy)’. The lyrics are so simple, but it fills the room, fills Steve’s head. The words swirl around and he hates just how true it is. His fingers curl into Eddie’s hair, tug ever so softly. He hates how the little gasp that Eddie does filters into his mind, clouds every other thought.
“Please,” he whispers.
Eddie runs his tongue over his bottom lip, ghosting it. Steve can feel his breath over his lips. He can feel him hovering, and Steve can’t help himself; he leans forward, catches Eddie’s tongue with his own, lips finally meeting lips intentionally.
They’re grasping at each other, heads tilting and kiss deepening. Their kiss is all tongues and teeth. It’s wild and sloppy, like the two are trying to find a way into one another. It’s not enough to be this close, they need to go deeper. He nudges his head against Eddie’s, lips going to his neck. He smells like weed and the leather of his jacket. Eddie’s gasping as Steve pulls him into his lap, one hand cradling Eddie’s head, the other on his hip, large hand gripping, guiding him to grind down on him.
“Fuck.” It’s unclear who says it, but both feel it, the weight of the other, the heat.
Eddie grabs at Steve’s shirt, pulls the hem of it so hard that there’s a ripping noise. Neither are concerned when the shirt goes flying somewhere. Eddie moves to Steve’s neck, kissing, sucking, and biting. It’s the nips that cause Steve to cry out. Eddie’s hips jerk at the noise and he makes his own in return.
Eddie’s clawing at Steve’s skin, and he cries out again. This time, Eddie pulls back, and Steve looks down between them. He can see, even in the dim, hazy light, that a rather large wet spot has seeped through Eddie’s black jeans.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” Steve murmurs, noticing the way Eddie’s skin flushes a deep red, staring down at the spot in question.
Steve moves, pulls him back into a kiss, pulling Eddie’s hips down against his own, which he’s rocking up against rather enthusiastically. Steve moves his mouth, licking over Eddie’s neck. Steve’s hands mimic Eddie’s, move up his back, gently claw their way down. Eddie chokes out a moan.
“Fuck, Steve,” he gasps his name out. Steve can feel it, the way Eddie’s hips lose their rhythm, the tremble that spreads through his body so hard his breath shudders. “I’m gonna—”
Steve bites down on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie’s arms circle around his shoulders, fingers curling into hair, clawing over the skin of his shoulder.
“Steve,” he says his name through a moan, his head dropping to his shoulder, his body trembling over him. “Fuck,” he mumbles, nuzzling into his sweat-damp skin.
Steve pulls back just slightly, Eddie turning his head away in embarrassment.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Steve breathes, looking over the large dark stain.
He’d done that to Eddie. Eddie, who has teased him relentlessly for the last few weeks. Who he can’t get out of his damn mind. There’s a small sense of pride. He feels like he hasn’t lost it after all if he can do this to the fucking sexiest guy he thinks he could ever possibly bag. He knows his life has changed almost completely, to be sitting here considering ‘the freak’ sexy, but fuck, he really, really is.
“Hot?” Eddie gasps out incredulously, and Steve nods.
“Can I?” he runs a finger along the waistline of his jeans, and Eddie shivers at the sensation, still so sensitive.
“Sure?”
Steve’s quick to undo the button and zipper on Eddie’s pants, before dipping his other hand in, gathering up some of his cum on his fingers. He brushes against Eddie in the process, eliciting a gasp from the other man, body jerking from the excess of pleasure. He brings it to his mouth, wants to taste him, needs to taste him. His eyes slip shut, and he moans as if he’d just found water in the middle of the desert.
Eddie’s lips part, let out the smallest of squeaks, a bit shocked.
“Steve,” he says and Steve’s eyes slowly open to look up at him, “I’m going to kiss you now, and then I’m going to suck your dick.”
Steve laughs but it’s cut off, Eddie’s mouth taking purchase over his. Hungry and wanting, they kiss the breath out of each other, gasp for air without parting.
Slowly, he slides down Steve’s body, kissing softly, nipping here and there. He undoes Steve’s jeans and pulls down his boxers. Steve smacks against his own stomach with a loud ‘thump’ as he’s freed.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie mutters.
Guitar, drums, and organ fill the air, a whirling sort of wind howling through the speakers. Eddie’s hair tickles over his thighs, Steve’s hands gather it up and back from his face. Eddie takes Steve into his mouth, and Steve’s head falls back against the couch.
The track ends, and so does side A. The soft static sound of the needle running over the album is heard under the lewd noises of sucking, gasps, and moans.
He tries hard not to, but Eddie’s tongue is swirling just right. His hips roll up in sync with Eddie’s bobbing. It’s been a long, long time, and honestly, it only takes a few minutes before he’s giving Eddie a warning. Eddie, bless him, picks up the pace. It’s the most chaotic blowjob he’s ever had. It’s so sloppy, the change up of suction and speed. God, that fucking tongue swirl he’s doing.
“Eddie,” he cries out his name, broken and pathetic, it tumbles out of his mouth.
Eddie doesn’t move back, just swallows every last drop, and Steve hisses as Eddie keeps going, doesn’t fucking stop and Steve whimpers.
“Fuck, Eddie,” he’s lost all control, only able to beg Eddie. His body is trembling, twitching. He whimpers again, this time it’s almost painful.
Eddie finally pulls back, goes to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, when Steve grasps his shirt, pulling him into a kiss. He doesn’t care about the taste of himself in Eddie’s mouth. Right now, he just wants Eddie, wants to kiss him, feel him.
Eddie doesn’t stop him, kisses Steve back, pushes him back onto the couch, crawls up and between his legs.
Both of them shift, grabbing something out of their pockets. Steve has a Magnum, Eddie, a regular Trojan. Steve pockets his again and nods up at Eddie, who grins.
They’re about to kiss again when they hear the basement door jiggling.
“What the fuck? Why is it locked?” someone asks from beyond the door.
“You locked the door?” Eddie’s grin is so incredibly wide now.
Steve shrugs. “I mean…”
“Ok, Harrington, I see you.”
But the doorknob jiggles harder, and there’s a loud pang! as the crappy push lock pops open.
“Fuck!”
They’re both up, Steve scrambling for his shirt, Eddie for a pillow. Steve’s fixing his pants and running over to the turntable where he flips the album over. ‘Here Comes The Sun’ starts playing. Eddie’s picking up the joint that he’d placed in an ashtray and lounging back on the couch, pillow over his very obvious wet spot.
“Hey, Eddie!”
Some random guys bound down the steps. The anonymous music from upstairs drowns out The Beatles. They’re trying to buy something off him, and Steve runs his hand through his hair before he turns around.
“Harrington,” the taller one nods at him, and he gives a curt wave in return, ducking his head.
They’re taking longer than Steve had expected, and he’s feeling a bit antsy.
The shorter one looks Steve over, tilts his head as he eyes up his neck and Steve clears his throat, rubbing his hand over the area. More people have come downstairs in search of Eddie and Steve bites his lip, running his hand through his hair again.
Fuck it. He digs into his pocket for his wallet. He figures he ought to at least pay Eddie for the weed he shared.
“Thanks, Munson,” Steve says, tossing a fifty down on the table.
He turns to leave, but he notices the way Eddie looks down at the money, hurt. Confused? Whatever it is, it makes Steve’s stomach drop.
“Yeah, man, later,” Eddie replies, turning his eyes away to talk to a girl who was looking for something a little harder.
Steve tells himself he’ll call him later. He climbs the stairs and heads out, the night air a bit cool, clearing his mind a little from the haze of the dank basement. He’ll call him for sure. He drives home, craving a Cherry Blow Pop.