Work Text:
Eddie was halfway back to Forest Hills when he realized what he’d forgotten. Too caught up in getting all the kids in the right cars, helping Steve clean up after the hurricane they’d left in his living room, and lingering a bit too long by the stairs, talking about everything and nothing, Eddie had left his backpack sitting by the fireplace. Fuck.
Being around Steve Harrington when he was already mentally exhausted from several hours of D&D turned his brain to absolute mush. It had been Chrissy’s first game with them, so he’d tried to balance the complications of the ongoing story with the necessary first steps for a new player, and it had pulled his neurons into a cat’s cradle of frustration.
He needed a joint, and a couple of hours with his guitar. Then his brain might begin to sort itself out.
Pulling the van through a screeching U-turn, Eddie headed back to Steve’s place, mentally kicking himself. He pulled into the drive with a squeal of brakes, thinking that if nothing else, the van at least announced his presence well. Bounding up the front steps, he realized the door was still slightly ajar, and pushed it open a few inches.
“Hey Steve?” He called, hoping he wouldn’t give Steve a heart attack by sneaking back into his house.
When there was no answer, he walked as lightly as possible toward the living room to retrieve his bag and hopefully sneak back out undetected, leaving the front door closed this time. Eddie frowned, glancing around the room. It wasn’t there.
Eddie knew he’d left it propped up against the brickwork hearth, could remember shoving his books and the folding screen in there along with his bag of dice. One of the kids wouldn’t have grabbed it. Could Steve have moved it somewhere?
Great. Now he was going to have to admit to sneaking back into Steve’s house by asking the guy where he’d stashed his stuff. Heading back to the front hall, Eddie noticed the shirt Steve had been wearing lying on the stairs up to the second floor. Glancing up a ways, he saw his jeans discarded on the top stair, trailing off down the hallway.
Maybe he’d really just been in a rush to get a shower? Eddie supposed it was possible, though he couldn’t hear any water running. “Steve?” he called out, cringing a little at the way his voice echoed through the empty house. Taking a deep breath, he took the first step, then the second, scooping up Steve’s shirt along the way. Folding it without even thinking about it, Eddie tucked it under his arm and kept climbing.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear loud music coming from Steve’s room, the door open about an inch. That explained it, Eddie thought. He couldn’t hear himself think over - was that Madonna? Christ. He really had to work with Steve on his musical choices.
“Hey Steve, sorry,” Eddie said loudly, pushing open the door. “I just forgot my bag -”
He stopped short, dropping the t-shirt in his hand. Steve posed in front of a full-length mirror wearing a Hawkins High cheerleader uniform, hands clasped behind his head, hips canted to one side. His left knee was turned slightly inward, the left foot raised up on his toes, knee socks banded in orange and green pulled all the way up. He froze, eyes wide, watching Eddie's reflection in the mirror.
Eddie knew his jaw was on the floor. He also knew he should leave, close the door, turn around and march right back to his van, backpack be damned. The sight he had just witnessed was clearly not intended for him and the only polite course of action would be to pretend he had never seen it and never bring it up again. Right?
If Steve had wanted anyone to see exactly how good he looked in a cheerleading skirt, well, he would have shown someone. Maybe he had, and it just wasn’t Eddie. He filed away the unpleasant dip in his stomach at the thought and refused to examine it. He could feel bad about any number of things later, by himself, in his own home.
“Get out,” Steve said, barely above a whisper, his face gone pale as a ghost.
“I’m sorry!” Eddie blurted out when his mouth decided to work, closing the door and leaning his back against it when his feet refused to move.
“Fuck,” he heard Steve spit out in the pause between songs from the stereo. “Fuck, fuck, fuck -”
Way to go, Eddie thought. Barge into a guy’s house without even knocking and interrupt his private dress-up time, that’s not going to affect your friendship at all. Goddamn it. Eddie’s favorite thing about playing D&D at Steve’s house wasn’t the space to spread out, the perpetual stock of good snacks in the kitchen, or even the pool - it was Steve.
Even though he didn’t play, he watched sometimes, making commentary, figuring things out along with the party. Eddie loved to watch the lightbulb go on inside Steve’s head when he made a connection or remembered a relevant detail, and had hoped that maybe one day, he’d finally coerce Steve into joining them. So much for that daydream.
Unless - unless he could fix this.
Eddie could hear Steve pacing inside the room, probably afraid that Eddie thought he was a freak, or that he would tell everyone what he’d seen. Neither was true, and Eddie was about to prove it. Acting on instinct before his higher brain functions could kick in and stop him, Eddie opened the door.
“Ok, I’m still sorry because I clearly was not invited to this party, but here’s the thing - it’s really hot.”
Steve stopped in his tracks, clearly pacing and tugging at his hair. He stared at Eddie with a mix of fear and shock.
“What?” He asked, wincing when his voice cracked around the word.
“It’s hot,” Eddie continued, letting his eyes roam. “Like - like scorching hot, Steve, it’s - you’re - do you do this a lot? Because wow, you really should.”
“I - I should?” Steve asked, beginning to loosen his grip on his hair.
“Fuck yeah,” Eddie said, taking a hesitant step closer. Steve didn’t move away, and Eddie counted it as a small victory. “Kinda discovering something about myself right now.”
“You are?” Steve said, arms falling to his side and crossing protectively around his middle. He looked as lost in the moment as Eddie felt.
“Never understood the whole cheerleader…thing,” Eddie said, waving his hand around in the air. “But I think I’m starting to get it.” He knew his brain’s higher functions were offline because his mouth just kept talking without the benefit of any filters. “That skirt is - really short, fuck, and your legs look amazing in it, I mean I thought you looked hot in those tiny little basketball shorts, but this? This is next level, man.”
A blush had begun to form high on Steve’s cheeks, and Eddie took it as an invitation to keep talking. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking pretty you are, Stevie? Cause you’re gorgeous, I mean it.” His legs carried him another step closer without any conscious decision. “God, do you have any idea how much time I spend just looking at you? And when I’m not looking at you, fuck, I’m thinking about you. And I’m gonna be thinking about the way you look right now for a long time, I can promise you that.”
Steve’s face was beginning to change, the fear giving way to something else, something Eddie couldn’t quite tease out. He took another step closer, and Steve’s eyes dipped down to his lips, Eddie was sure of it. “You like getting dressed up, Steve? Is it just for you, or do you ever let anyone else see?”
“Just me,” Steve breathed, watching Eddie closely as he closed the last distance between them.
“God, I just want to put you over my knee and spank you,” Eddie said, closing his mouth around the words as soon as they hit the air. There was something to be said for considering your words before you let them out. Nothing to do but run with it, now.
Steve’s flush deepened, traveling down past his collar, his pupils wide. Eddie could hear the tiniest hitch in his breath, and decided to press the advantage. "Would you like that, Stevie?"
Eddie would have sworn Steve gave a tiny nod at the words. “Have you been a bad girl? Do you deserve a spanking?” Eddie reached out and slowly dragged his index finger down across the embroidered megaphone.
The touch seemed to snap Steve out of his trance. He blinked twice, shaking his head, and backed away. “You’re fucking with me,” he said, his voice flat.
“What?” Eddie asked. “No, I swear -”
Steve backed away, turning to duck into the en-suite before Eddie could get out anything else. He heard the click of the lock engaging and deflated. Had to go and fuck it up, didn’t you? Just had to push too far.
Sinking down to the floor, Eddie pressed his back against the wall next to the bathroom door. The tape in the stereo had reached the end of its side with a soft click, and the air was heavy with silence. Maybe he could still fix this. Yeah, and maybe hobbits were real.
"God, Steve,” Eddie started, hoping Steve could hear the honestly in his words. “I'm so fucking sorry. I had no business - and you told me to get out, and I didn't listen, and I just - I wasn't thinking.” Eddie tugged on his hair with shaking hands, winding it tightly around his fingers. “I know that's not an excuse, it's just - an explanation?" His voice rose on the last word, sounding as crazy as he felt.
He could hear Steve pacing inside the bathroom, heard a steady stream of murmurs greet his apology but couldn’t make out many words beyond “fuck” and “disaster.” He leaned his head against the lintel post and closed his eyes, wishing he had just remembered his damn bag.
Speaking of - there it was, sitting next to Steve’s bed. Open. Huh.
"Steve?" Eddie asked after the murmuring had tapered off. "Tell me to leave and I will. I just - I need to know you're ok in there. And that you know I'm sorry for invading your privacy and - and for the shit I said."
The door opened a few inches, and Eddie looked up. Steve stood in the doorway, haloed by the ceiling light. Eddie absolutely, 100 percent did not look up Steve’s skirt, but he definitely thought about it.
“Did you mean it?” Steve asked, hip cocked against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he might have moved on from scared to angry, and fuck me, Eddie thought, Steve was even hotter when he was mad.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Eddie said without thinking. “I said a lot of shit, y’know, and -”
Steve closed the bathroom door and slid down to sit next to Eddie, carefully leaving some space between them. “That you think it’s hot,” Steve clarified quietly without looking in his direction.
“Fuck yeah I do,” Eddie said, turning to look at Steve straight on. He had one hell of a poker face when he needed to, but right now he wanted everything on display. Wanted Steve to know just how much he wanted him, uniform or not. In fact, not would be better. Nothing at all would be best.
Steve looked away first, smiling down at the floor. “Ok,” he said, seeming to wrestle with some decision, his hands knotted together in his lap. “All right.”
“All right?” Eddie questioned, wanting to reach out, to touch, but not daring to.
“Yeah,” Steve said, still smiling. Rising to his knees, Steve threw one leg over Eddie’s hips and shifted his weight, straddling him.
Eddie was suddenly very much aware that Steve wasn’t wearing a single thing under his skirt. This is it, Eddie thought. This is how I die. A Harrington-induced heart attack beat the hell out of the last time he thought he wouldn't live to see the sunrise.
Steve leaned in, oblivious to the freight train of thoughts crashing through Eddie’s head. Pressing a soft, careful kiss to his lips, Steve pulled back before Eddie could even respond. “Tell me to stop, if -” Steve started, his voice quiet but steady.
“Never,” Eddie said, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s hips and pulling him in close. Tilting his head to find just the right angle, he kissed Steve back with interest, licking at his lips until Steve let him in.
Steve made an amazing noise, the sound trapped against Eddie's mouth, and he wanted to hold it under his tongue for a rainy day. He hoped like hell this wouldn't be a one time thing, but if it was, the memory would be keeping him warm for a lot of cold nights.
It quickly became obvious that Eddie's belt buckle wasn't exactly ideal for Steve to rut up against, and he scrambled to undo his belt and shove his jeans down his thighs. His boxers provided a better sort of friction, at least in the moment. Eddie kissed for all he was worth, murmuring encouragements and confessions against Steve's delightfully plush mouth.
"Wanted you for so long, Steve, fuck, you have no idea. Kind of hated myself for it before - ah - before I knew how amazing you really are, but - shit, keep doing that - once I did it got so much worse, couldn't stop thinking about you -"
"Yeah?" Steve asked, pulling back for a breath, rolling his hips against Eddie and looking gratified at the groan it produced. He was getting wet, his cock leaking against his boxers, and fuck if that didn't feel good, too. Steve reached down to take advantage of it, rubbing the slick, wet fabric over his cock head.
"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, not sure if he was replying to Steve's question or reacting to his touch. "Fuck, baby, that's good." He had a moment's panic that Steve would object to being called baby, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
Steve leaned back in, kissing a line up Eddie's jaw, planting a good wet one on his cheek and continuing up to nibble gently at his earlobe. Eddie wanted to tell him he could bite harder, but didn't know if Steve was really into that and wanted the chance to find out later. Maybe a lot of laters, if he was really lucky.
Making an appreciative noise, Eddie buried his right hand in Steve's hair, tugging gently, then harder when Steve let out a moan. When he couldn't stand it another second, Eddie reached between them to pull down his boxers, letting Steve rut against his bare cock a few times before taking them both in hand. His right hand was already occupied with pulling at Steve's hair, so he used his left, momentarily forgetting about his rings.
He stroked gently, hoping the metal bands weren't causing pain, but from the delicious noises Steve was making, Eddie would guess he was enjoying that, too. He didn’t know how he’d managed to get so lucky, but he wasn’t about to question it, not now anyway. Not when he was already close to coming hard all over that pretty, pretty uniform.
Steve rocked into his hand, pushing against his grip like his life depended on it, stuttering breaths falling from his lips around Eddie’s name. He squeezed a bit a harder, twisting his wrist at the head and fingering the slit the way he liked, hoping it would translate for Steve. The gambit proved successful when Steve came in a rush, hips juddering as his cock jerked in Eddie’s grip. Steve’s release striped Eddie’s t-shirt, and he hoped it would wash clean. If not, this had absolutely been worth the loss of his favorite Iron Maiden tank.
Steve’s hand joined his, pulling Eddie’s palm over his own cock hard and fast as Steve’s began to soften, slick and wet. Steve’s attentions plus the added slide brought Eddie to the edge, the noises he heard himself making growing increasingly pornographic. He came with a growl, coating Steve’s rucked up skirt and even splattering as high as the bottom of his chin.
Steve gave a wicked smile as Eddie basked in the endorphin rush, wiping the come from his chin and licking it off his finger. “God, you taste good,” he sighed, and Eddie felt his cock give another hopeful twitch.
Pulling off his now filthy shirt, Eddie pulled Steve close, planting kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, and his chin before kissing him soundly on the lips. Steve pulled away after a moment to rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck, mumbling against his flushed skin. The only words Eddie caught were “holy shit” and “goddamn,” so he figured Steve wasn’t grappling with any regrets. For his part, Eddie was really hoping he hadn’t ruined the uniform by coming all over it.
Steve kissed his way up Eddie’s neck before rising up from his knees and stumbling into the bathroom, muttering something about cleaning up. Eddie was gripped by a sudden, mostly irrational fear that Steve was mad about the skirt and would kick him out any minute. When Steve returned, holding out a damp washcloth, Eddie breathed a sigh of relief.
Eddie cleaned himself up, watching Steve shimmy out of the uniform with a contented smile on his face. Hanging the uniform over the back of his desk chair, Steve reached out a hand to Eddie where he still sat on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Eddie took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and kissed, Steve’s arms wrapping around his waist.
“You’re still wearing pants,” Steve said. “Those have got to go.” Sliding to his knees, Steve untied Eddie’s shoelaces and pulled off his sneakers, tugging his jeans down. Eddie kicked them off, adjusting his boxers so his cock wasn’t still hanging out. Steve pulled a pair of gym shorts out of a drawer and Eddie whistled appreciatively at the way Steve’s ass filled them out. The fact that they were shorter than his own boxers was a definite plus.
Steve nudged him toward the bed and Eddie went willingly, sprawling out across the mattress. When Steve joined him, Eddie pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. Steve slipped one leg through Eddie’s and wound a strand of Eddie’s hair through his fingers.
“That was -” Steve started, then shook his head.
“Amazing? Incredibly hot?” Eddie suggested.
“Both of those, yeah,” Steve agreed, resting his head against Eddie’s chest. “You’re, uh,” Steve began, stiffening a bit in Eddie’s arms. “You’re not going to tell anybody about, y’know,” he said, gesturing vaguely downward.
Eddie’s heart sank, and a tiny spark of anger flared in his chest, vying with a lump of hurt. If Steve wanted to keep this on the down low, he supposed he could roll with that. He didn’t like being anyone’s secret, though, never had.
“I mean,” Eddie started, sounding petulant. “I can respect that, I guess -”
“No,” Steve said, lightly kicking his shin. The hurt must have shown on his face, because Steve turned Eddie’s chin toward him. “Not about us, about the - the, um -” He gestured toward the uniform on the chair and Eddie’s world burst back into color.
“Of course not,” he reassured. “That’s your thing, no one else needs to know about it. I mean, except me,” Eddie added. “I want to know all about it. But - you can trust me, Steve. I mean it.”
Clearly satisfied with the answer, Steve sank back down to rest his head against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie stroked his fingers through his hair, gratified at the pleased hum he received in response. “You know,” Steve started, pausing for a moment and driving Eddie’s imagination wild. “You still haven’t spanked me.”
Eddie blinked, wondering just what he had done to win the lottery. Pulling his hand back from Steve’s hair, he gave his ass a good, solid smack. Steve gave a grunt that devolved into a thoroughly pleased sound.
“Do that again,” he asked, his face buried against Eddie’s neck.
Eddie obliged, bringing his hand down hard twice more, then slipping it under Steve’s shorts to stroke the impact-sensitive skin. He let out a long, shuddering breath, and Eddie could feel Steve’s cock starting to fill through the thin material separating them. Suddenly he made a disappointed noise and pounded his fist against Eddie’s thigh.
“Dammit,” he said, letting out a disgusted grunt. Eddie froze, panicking, until Steve continued his thought. “I forgot my parents are coming home tonight.”
“What time?” Eddie asked, checking his watch. It read 9:17 pm.
“Any time,” Steve said, miserably. “S’why I was wearing that when you came back - they’re going to be in town for a while, so I didn’t know when I’d get another chance.”
“You do that sort of thing pretty often?” Eddie asked, trying to keep his tone light, casual. He was dying to know more details, but didn’t want to push.
“Sometimes,” Steve said with a shrug. “I just - like how it looks? I mean, I’m not, like - I don’t want to be a girl, it just - feels nice.”
“I get that,” Eddie said with a nod. “You’d be surprised how many other people do the same thing.” He paused for a moment, then decided to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. “Where’d you get it, anyway? I mean, I know you’ve dated cheerleaders, but...”
“I kind of stole it,” Steve admitted with a devious smile. “From the athletic department. They always have extras, and this one was big enough for me, so one night after a game, I just…swiped it.”
“Very nice,” Eddie said appreciatively.
“Sometimes, I, uh -” Steve started, swallowing hard. “Sometimes I jerk off in it.”
“God, that’s hot,” Eddie responded immediately. Steve raised his head to look at him in blatant adoration, pushing a strand of hair back from Eddie’s face. “You think you could sneak out, after they’re asleep? Wayne will be at work all night.”
“As long as I’m home when they get here, so we can all pretend we missed each other for an hour or two, they don’t give a shit where I am the rest of the time.” Steve played it off as casual, but Eddie could see a hint of an old hurt in his face. The sort people usually just plastered over and left to fester.
“So you’ll come over?” Eddie said, his voice sounding small, almost shy.
“I could be persuaded,” Steve said, pulling Eddie in for another kiss. Eddie deepened it, prying Steve’s lips apart with his tongue and licking inside. Steve hummed and pulled back. “I’m almost convinced,” he said with a sly smile. Eddie grabbed his ass and brought their hips together, crushing his lips to Steve’s in a hot, forceful slide. Running his hand lightly up Steve’s spine, Eddie buried it in his hair and pulled.
“Oh yeah,” Steve said, gasping, when they broke the kiss. “I’m persuaded.”
“Good,” Eddie said, disentangling himself from Steve’s hold and swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Could I, ah, borrow a shirt? Don’t want to scandalize your neighbors, seeing a half naked man leaving your house.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows.
“Second drawer,” Steve said, inclining his chin toward the dresser.
“Lazy,” Eddie said with a grin, digging through until he found something in a dark color that wasn’t a polo. Shoving it over his head, he looked down to see the logo for someplace called Camp Crystal Lake. Better than a new wave band, Eddie thought, tugging it down.
“Don’t be too long,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Steve watched him fumble his way back into his jeans, hopping a little on one leg and cursing. Blessedly, he didn’t laugh.
“Yes sir,” Steve said playfully, as Eddie laced up his sneakers. He didn’t know yet, he couldn’t, what fire that stirred in Eddie’s blood. He would learn, though, if Eddie had anything to say about it. “Any other orders?”
“Yeah,” Eddie, bending to pick up his soiled and crumpled shirt. “Drink some coffee. You’re gonna be up late.”
Steve grinned and flopped back on the mattress. “Looking forward to it,” he said, running a teasing hand down the front of his shorts. Eddie licked his lips.
“One more thing,” Eddie said, lingering in the doorway, one hand wrapped around the side. Steve looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Wear something pretty.”
Halfway back to Forest Hills, when the euphoria began to ebb, Eddie cursed and banged his fist on the steering wheel. He’d forgotten his backpack again.