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16 Dec - 9 days to Christmas
“A cabin?” Eddie repeats. “Who are you, fuckin’... Bill Gates?”
“It belongs to my parents, not me. And they’re not using it this year, so…” Steve shrugs. “I figured we may as well get some use out of it.”
“A cabin in the woods.” Eddie says it again, like he’s still not quite getting it.
“Yes.”
“A cabin. In the fucking woods.”
“You keep saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”
“We’re going to get murdered. We’re four young adults alone in a remote cabin. That’s the setup to every schlocky horror film ever.”
Steve just rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his coffee. “You’re being dramatic. Do you wanna come, or not?”
“Well, it depends. What are we planning to do while we stay in this cabin?” He says it like it’s a dirty word.
“Get drunk, play board games, decorate the tree, sit in front of the fire and exchange presents.” Steve shrugs. “Normal Christmas stuff.”
“Ah, yes. Normal Christmas stuff in your rich people cabin.”
“Give it a rest, please.”
“Okay, fine.” Eddie fiddles with the paper sleeve around his cup. “I’ll come.”
It wasn’t like he was actually going to say no. A getaway with Steve and the girls sounded nice - and he wasn’t about to let Harrington spend another Christmas alone (which was something that happened most years, apparently. When Steve had admitted this, Eddie had declared murderous intent for his parents).
Steve seems to brighten immediately; if he had a tail, it would be wagging. Eddie busies his mouth with his coffee and hopes to god he manages to hide his blush behind his cup.
“It’ll be fun.” Steve promises.
“I have no doubt.” Eddie says with a wry little smile. “Did Robs and Chrissy already agree?”
“Yeah, they’re game. Robin says staying in a log cabin is a ‘lesbian rite of passage’, whatever that means.”
Eddie snorts, amused. “Ten bucks she wears nothing but flannel the entire week.”
“Oh, you’re on.”
“I better head home, then.” Eddie says, leaning back to give himself wiggle room for tugging his wallet out of his pocket. “Gotta tell Wayne about these last-minute Christmas plans.” He reaches for the bill - the waitress had dropped it on their table a few minutes ago - but Steve waves his hand away.
“I’ve got it.” Steve says, already taking his card out of his wallet.
“What? Dude, no, I can’t expect you to pay every single time we get coffee -”
“I said I’ve got it.” Steve cuts him off with an easy grin. “Seriously, Eddie.”
“Okay, fine - but I owe you, like, ten coffees at this point.” Eddie grumbles.
“Shut up.” Steve says, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d almost say he sounded fond.
“So you’re going on a trip with your boyfriend?” Wayne asks, barely glancing up from the crossword he’s been puzzling over for the past hour.
“What - Wayne, no.” Eddie frowns, taking a moment to pause his cooking and turn towards his uncle. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“So you keep saying.” Wayne’s eyebrows lift as he takes a sip of his coffee, not sounding convinced.
“What do I have to say to convince you, huh?” Eddie turns back to the task at hand. He’s busy shaping matzah balls for his soup, dropping them into the simmering broth one by one. He reaches toward his phone with one hand, tapping at the screen to keep it unlocked so he can read the recipe he’s pulled up on the internet. “Shit - I’ve gotta let this simmer.” He hastily lowers the heat on the stove.
“You spend most of your time with him. He buys you things, takes you out for meals. And he looks at you like a lovesick puppy.” Wayne says with a shrug. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that sounds like a boyfriend to me.”
“Well, I’m correcting you. Those are all things that close friends do, too.”
“You’re wearing his sweater.” Wayne points out. “You seem to be wearing it a lot lately.”
“It’s comfortable!” Eddie defends, his cheeks going pink. He’d borrowed Steve’s sweater a few weeks before, during one of their weekly movie nights.
(“You cold?” Steve asked, concern tugging at his eyebrows.
“M’fine.” Eddie murmured, trying to sink deeper into the couch cushions as if it would do literally anything to help.
“Here.” In the blink of an eye, Steve had tugged his sweater off and handed it over to Eddie. Eddie stared at it for a moment, running the soft yellow material through his fingers.
“Thanks.”)
He hadn’t thought much about the sweater being given to him - and he’d been meaning to give it back, but it just kept slipping his mind.
Reason being that it really is just very comfortable, so he finds himself wearing it on the regular. A scent that’s uniquely Steve still lingers on it, too, which he finds oddly comforting - but he’s not going to tell Wayne that.
“Besides, he hasn’t, like… asked me out.” He continues to explain. His ears and the back of his neck feel flushed, too warm. “And he’s not going to.”
While Eddie wants nothing more than that - while he desperately wants to be able to call Steve his boyfriend - he is entirely convinced that it’s never going to happen. Steve is out of his league, and, while he’s never disclosed his sexual orientation to Eddie, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s only ever been known to date women.
“He hasn’t asked you out.” Wayne repeats. “But he has asked you to go away for a week-long trip to his log cabin.”
“Okay - sure - it sounds romantic in theory. But we’ve got other friends coming with us, so.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder and leaves it at that.
Wayne stares at him for a long moment, expression absolutely deadpan and unreadable. Then he sighs and turns his attention back to his crossword.
“What’s a nine letter word that means ‘unobservant’?” He asks, tapping his pencil against the newspaper.
“Oblivious?”
19 Dec - 6 days to Christmas
The cabin is smaller than Eddie imagined it would be - which, if he’s being honest with himself, is a relief. It’s rustic and uniquely charming, made up of a combination kitchen and living room with a cosy fireplace, and an upstairs that has two bedrooms, each with its own ensuite bathroom. It’s still the nicest place Eddie’s ever stayed in, but that wasn’t saying much.
Each room has a double bed in it. Eddie realises, with dawning horror, that this means he and Steve will not only be sharing a room - but that they’ll also have to be sleeping five inches apart from each other.
The worst part? How normal Steve is being about it.
“Which side d’you want?” He asks, gesturing towards the bed. Like he’s asking Eddie how he takes his coffee, or something (which he wouldn’t have to ask - he already knows Eddie’s coffee order, by heart).
“Uh, I’m easy.” Eddie lies through his teeth.
“You can have the side furthest from the door.” Steve says, like he knows, somehow, what Eddie’s preference is. He blinks in surprise and opens his mouth to ask Steve how on earth he knows that - and then he realises that this isn’t actually the first time they’ve shared a bed. Sometimes when their movie nights run late, Eddie will stay over, and they usually crash on Steve’s bed together, but he never thinks twice about it. Steve’s bed back home is a queen, afterall, not a double, so there’s always plenty of room - and sharing a bed during a log cabin getaway (without the guise of crashing late after one too many beers) just feels different. So Eddie might be mildly freaking out.
“Thanks…” He says, ignoring his inner turmoil for now. He drops his bag onto the floor and sits down on the bed, and takes a moment to test the bounciness of the mattress. “Oh, nice.”
“Only the best for the Harringtons.” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.
“Knock knock!” Someone says brightly, and the two of them turn in unison to see Chrissy at the threshold of their room. She’s bundled up in her warmest clothes - mint green coat, gloves and earmuffs.
“Meet us outside.” She says with a mischievous sort of grin - the kind that always makes Eddie nervous. “And put your gloves and coats on, ‘kay?” She offers no more explanation before she disappears, leaving them alone once more. Eddie glances over at Steve with a helpless shrug.
They make their way outside, but once they’re in the front yard they don’t see the girls anywhere. Eddie frowns and turns in place, making a full rotation as his gaze scans the yard for the two of them. He’s at a loss - that is, until, a snowball seems to appear from nowhere and whizzes past his ear. Eddie catches a blur of green out the corner of his eye and whirls around just in time to catch sight of Chrissy ducking back down to hide behind the car.
“Oh, this means war!” He declares, already leaning down to scoop some snow up into his hands.
“You’re going down!” He hears Robin crow, just as a snowball hits him square in the chest. Next to Eddie, Steve lets out a delighted laugh as snow collides with his front, too.
They spend the next hour or so engaged in an all-out snowball war, one that leaves all of them soaked to the bone and shivering by the end of it. Despite this, none of them can quite shake the smiles from their faces.
It’s dark by the time they head back inside and, tired after a day of travelling and an afternoon of snow-filled shenanigans, they unanimously decide to hit the hay early.
Once they’re behind closed doors, Eddie is once again confronted by the fact that he’ll be sharing a bed with Steve for an entire week.
“Shower’s all yours, I don’t mind waiting.” Steve says, and begins to shed layers of clothing right in front of Eddie’s eyes like it’s a completely normal thing to do. Eddie watches as he pulls his wet shirt off over his head, as he peels the material from his glistening abs and pectorals. He has to force himself to turn away, lest the bright red flush that’s risen in his cheeks is noticed.
It’s going to be a long fucking week.
20 Dec - 5 days to Christmas
The very next morning proves just how long of a week it’s set out to be.
Eddie, half awake, heads down to the kitchen first thing and makes a beeline for the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He takes a long, satisfying sip from his mug and turns to leave the kitchen, but movement outside catches his eye. He peeks through the curtains to get a better look - and almost does a spit take at the sight he’s greeted with.
Through the window, he watches as Steve chops wood. He goes very still, coffee forgotten, and just stares, slack-jawed. He’s not sure how much time passes before someone else joins him in the kitchen (Chrissy, who seems a little confused to be stumbling in on him like this).
“God is testing me.” Eddie mutters. “I know it.”
“Why?” Chrissy asks, then turns and seems to notice Steve for the first time. “Oh.”
“Yep.” Eddie pops the ‘p’. The two of them watch, slightly transfixed, as Steve continues chopping wood (like some kind of lumberjack right out of Eddie’s wet dreams). Eddie realises he’s white-knuckling his mug, so he exhales through his nose and forces himself to relax his grip.
“So how’s that crush treating you?” Chrissy asks, like she doesn’t know the answer already.
“You’re evil and I hate you!” Eddie declares.
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.” He grumbles in agreement. “This is driving me fucking insane, Chris. Being close to him like this all the time, seeing shit like…” he gestures in Steve’s direction, then clenches his fist and shakes it a little for good measure. “It’s going to send me to an early grave. ‘Killed by the massive boner given to me by Steve Harrington’ - that’s what they’ll put on my tombstone.”
“There, there.” Chrissy pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Eat some cookies and maybe you’ll calm down.” She offers him a tupperware filled with gingerbread men, all of them iced; upon closer inspection, he realises that they’re decorated as mini versions of the group.
“Did you bake these?” He asks, impressed, as he picks out an Eddie cookie. He bites the head off first, which fills him with a childish sort of delight.
“I did.” She confirms. “Baked ‘em yesterday, made sure we’d have enough for the week. So don’t eat them all at once.” She swats his hand away before he can grab another one.
“Hey!” Eddie pouts and cradles his hand against his chest, as if she’s actually hurt him.
“What’s going on?” Steve asks as he steps inside. His cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold and, Eddie assumes, from the exertion of chopping wood. Eddie wants to kiss his stupid face.
“Ooh, cookies.” Steve plucks another Eddie gingerbread man out of the tupperware (Eddie is intrigued by this). He starts eating the cookie from the feet up; a bizarre choice, but Eddie doesn’t comment on it.
“What did you guys want to do for dinner tonight?” Steve asks around a mouthful of cookie. “I could make pasta?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Eddie says, immediately. He’s had Steve’s pasta before, on numerous occasions, and it’s always a hit. “Will you make your favourite?”
“Well, it’s decided, then.” Steve says, looking a little pleased with himself. “My favourite dish for my favourite guy.”
The words make Eddie’s face flush bright crimson, to which Chrissy gives him a knowing, almost smug, look. Eddie flips her off when Steve isn’t looking.
Steve always seems to be in his element when he’s in the kitchen. He flits about, prepping ingredients and stirring the sauce and checking on the pasta, somehow everywhere at once. Eddie kind of admires the single-minded focus he has when it comes to the task of cooking. The girls have decided to stay out of the way, Robin declaring that Steve can become ‘Ramsay-esque at the worst of times’. Eddie offers to help, but is quickly assigned bread duty.
“I can help with more, y’know.” He says, once he’s sliced about half a loaf.
“I’ve got it.” Steve says, and it’s left at that.
They work around each other in a sort of comfortable silence for a while, and it’s nice. Domestic, even. It makes Eddie’s chest ache with yearning.
“Taste this for me?” Steve asks at some point, holding a spoon of sauce towards him in offering. Eddie leans forward and blows steam off the top before closing his lips around the spoon.
“Mm!” He lets out a noise of approval. “Delicious.”
“Oh, hold on, you’ve got a bit of sauce right…” Steve leans in close and swipes the pad of his thumb over the corner of his lips. “Here.”
A traitorous flush rises in Eddie’s cheeks and he turns his face away quickly, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.
“Thanks.” He mumbles, busying himself with slicing bread and trying to will the heat in his cheeks (and between his legs) away.
They end up eating dinner in the living room, huddled close to the fireplace to keep warm. The pasta is, as expected, delicious, and Chrissy spends a good ten minutes begging Steve to share the recipe.
“Old family secret.” Steve says, tapping the side of his nose.
“The family secret is fresh basil.” Robin mumbles around a mouthful of bolognese.
“Buckley! Is nothing sacred?!”
Eddie snorts to himself and uses his bread to mop up the last of the sauce in his bowl. He’s over the moon when he notices that Steve does the same, finding a weird sort of comfort in the shared gesture that sends his heart fluttering and his mind into overdrive. He envisions living with Steve, getting this kind of home-cooked-food treatment all time, of tasting whatever sauce is offered to him, of complaining when Steve puts mushrooms in their carbonara (“I cut them into big chunks, just pick them out!”). It’s all very domestic and the sort of Hallmark thing Eddie would once have scoffed at.
When he finally stuffs the sodden bread into his mouth his gaze catches Chrissy’s across the room. She’s looking at him again with that same smug expression. His cheeks go as red as the sauce on his bread.
21 Dec - 4 days to Christmas
Steve lugs a whole Christmas tree into the cabin the next day - a fat, green thing that sheds pine needles everywhere - and announces they’re spending the evening decorating it together. He also reveals that he’s brought a suitcase packed to the brim with nothing but Christmas decorations (something he admits to sheepishly, which just makes Eddie fall in love with him all over again).
“Can I put the star on the tree?” Chrissy asks, once they’re done hanging the lights and tinsel and a large variety of novelty ornaments.
“If you can reach.” Eddie teases. It earns him a punch to the stomach that has him doubling over.
“When will the bullying cease?” He groans and clutches at his belly, being extra dramatic just because he can.
“Stay down, nerd.” Is all he hears before somebody is climbing onto his shoulders. Eddie grunts and holds onto Chrissy’s legs so she doesn’t topple off as he rises to his full height.
“Perfect.” Chrissy says brightly, settling the star on top of the tree with a satisfied nod.
“Alright, let’s put my girlfriend down before we have an accident.” Robin chides, as if she’s not the most accident-prone of the lot of them. “Baby, can you help me make some hot cocoa?”
“Coming!” Chrissy clambers down from her perch and bounces over to give Robin a kiss on the cheek. The two of them exit the room, and Eddie and Steve are left alone.
Eddie gravitates over to the other man, who’s still pulling decorations from his bag like some kind of festive Mary Poppins.
“Where’d you get all these?” Eddie asks, picking up a little ceramic toad with a missile strapped to its back - a visual pun on the word mistletoe, he assumes. It makes him snort.
“I bought all of them before the trip.” Steve admits, sheepish. “I realised I didn’t have any, and I’ve always wanted to decorate a Christmas tree with friends and family, so…”
“I’m glad you did.” Eddie gives him a soft smile. “I enjoyed doing this with you guys.”
Steve blinks rapidly, and before Eddie can figure out if he’s blushing or if it’s a trick of the light, he’s turning away to continue rummaging through his bag.
“I even bought a menorah.” He looks oddly pleased with himself as he turns back after a moment, holding up a little candelabrum for Eddie to see. The sight of it makes something undeniably fond bloom in Eddie’s chest, warming him from the inside.
“So we can light the candles together.” Steve continues - and bless him, because it’s more of an effort than most people would make.
“We’re about three days behind, but sure - why not?” Eddie says with an easy shrug. He can’t remember the last time he actually lit a menorah.
He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds that he remembers how to do it. He lights the shamash first, then uses it to light four more candles. He thinks he messes up the order a little bit, but it’s the thought that counts.
Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder as they consider the lit candles together. The quiet intimacy of the moment is not lost on Eddie - but he’s seen Steve be just as physically affectionate with Robin, so he knows it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
(He wishes it did, though.)
“It’s pretty.” Steve says. “You do this every year?”
“Nah. Me and Wayne, we’re… not particularly religious?” Eddie shrugs the shoulder that doesn’t currently have Steve’s head resting on it. “You’re supposed to say a blessing and stuff when you light it, but I sure as fuck don’t remember what it is. We mostly just celebrate Christmas because it’s so commercial, anyway. So far removed from Christianity at this point. Did you know they stole the tree decorating thing from the pagans?” Steve’s gone oddly quiet, so Eddie turns his head to ask him what’s wrong.
What he sees has him pausing and going quiet, as well. Steve looks contemplative as he considers the dance of the flickering candles - lost in thought, perhaps. Eddie can’t help but admire how beautiful he is, how he almost seems ethereal with the planes of his face framed by the glow of firelight.
The two of them enjoy a quiet moment together, and Eddie finds himself leaning into Steve’s side as he holds him.
22 Dec - 3 days to Christmas
“Uhh - hair? Hairspray? Wig?” Robin makes rapidfire guesses, and Steve shakes his head with each one. He keeps miming flipping long hair over his shoulder - it’s truly a sight to behold, and every time he does it Eddie has to bite down on his lip to suppress a giggle.
“Shit - uh - drag queen?” Is Robin’s last desperate attempt at a guess, right before the timer on her phone goes off.
“Time’s up!” Chrissy declares.
“It was Cher, Robs.” Steve huffs. “Obviously it was Cher.”
“You could have done so much more than the hair flip, though!” Eddie says with an incredulous laugh.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Steve flops onto the couch and sticks his tongue out at him, but there’s no real malice behind it. “I’d like to see you do any better.”
“How are you so bad at this game?” Robin asks him with a fond shake of her head.
“You and Eddie are drama kids, I don’t have the same kind of… physicality that you two have.” Steve grumbles. “And I also don’t know all these obscure references you people make.”
“Steve, as a fellow jock,” Chrissy says, “I feel your pain. But also I don’t, because Eddie is my best friend so I couldn’t avoid learning about all his nerdy shit if I tried.”
“Hey!” Eddie complains half-heartedly. “Also, what’s obscure about Cher? Everyone knows Cher.”
“Robin had to act out The Dark Crystal last round. I’ve never seen that, how was I supposed to guess it?” Steve pulls a face, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Aw, is someone grumpy because they’re losing?” Eddie gives him a shit-eating grin.
“By all means, show me how it’s done.” Steve says, gesturing to the bowl filled with prompts written on little slips of paper.
“Gladly.” Eddie gets to his feet and picks a prompt out of the bowl with a little flourish. What he reads on the paper has him fighting not to roll his eyes.
A football fumble. He has no fucking idea how to mime something like that.
He starts by shaping a football with his hands, then goes about pretending to trip and drop it. Chrissy watches his attempt, her nose scrunching with clear confusion.
“Uh… wipeout? Falling? Some kind of weird dance move?”
Eddie shakes his head and tries to exaggerate his movements more, even going so far as to mime putting on a football helmet and shoulder pads. He knows he looks fucking ridiculous.
“I love you,” Chrissy says, “But I have no idea what this is supposed to be.”
The timer goes off, then, and Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh.
“It was a football fumble.”
“Not so easy, is it?” Steve teases, and it’s his turn to smirk. Eddie flips him off, but he’s fighting a grin.
“I need way more alcohol to get through the rest of this game.” He announces.
They go through a few more bottles of wine as the night stretches on, and the game gets progressively more and more ridiculous the tipsier they get. Steve is the one to end the game, grabbing the last slip of paper from the bowl and swaying on his feet a little as he makes his way to the centre of the living room. He reads the prompt, tosses the paper aside, and takes a sip of wine directly from the bottle before he starts acting it out.
He mimes kicking something, and they all watch, slightly transfixed, as he screams silently and hops on one foot, clutching the other foot as if in pain. It’s his best performance of the evening.
“Stubbed toe? Broken toe?” Robin guesses, and Steve nods, puts a finger against his nose. Then he holds up two fingers and does the universally acknowledged sign for ‘a person’ in charades.
“Oh, uh -” Robin snaps her fingers and sits up straighter, eyes going wide. “Viggo Mortensen!”
“Yes!” Steve says out loud, and high-fives her with a grin. He lets himself fall back into his seat beside her, looking more than a little pleased with himself as he knocks back another healthy swig of wine.
“How did you know that?” Eddie asks him, slightly awed. “The toe thing.”
“You told me, remember? When we watched all the movies together?” Steve gives him an easy smile. And Eddie is surprised, to say the least, because he hadn’t even been sure if Steve had been enjoying the movies - let alone listening to Eddie’s inane commentary throughout them.
“Are we done? Did we win?” Robin asks, already gravitating over to her girlfriend to drape herself over her lap.
“Sure, Robs. You guys won.” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. None of them have actually been keeping track of the score.
“Yesssss.” Robin does a cute little fist-pump and curls up in Chrissy’s lap, tucking her face against her neck. It’s always an amusing sight, seeing tall, gangly Robin fold herself around her tiny girlfriend.
Eddie feels the tiniest twinge of jealousy, seeing the two of them so disgustingly in love. He’s happy for them, of course. But it’s Christmas and he’s single, so by god - he’s allowed to be a little bitter.
Eddie stands up to grab the wine from the coffee table - but a hand shoots out to wrap around his wrist, surprising him. It’s Steve, who’s gazing up at him through his eyelashes, pupils blown wide from too much alcohol.
“Mm, c’mere.” Is all he says before he’s tugging Eddie into his lap. Eddie’s eyes widen but he goes down with little struggle, and even allows himself to lean into Steve’s embrace when the man wraps his arms around his waist. Eddie thinks that, surely, the surprises for the night are over with - but he’s immediately proven wrong when Steve nuzzles his face against the back of his neck.
“I like seeing you in my sweater.” He murmurs in a low tone that travels through Eddie and settles in his core. “It looks good on you.”
Eddie squirms in Steve’s lap, feeling that all too familiar flush rising to his cheeks, “Steve…”
“Mhm?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Just a little.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. “But so are you.”
Admittedly, Eddie is more than a little faded. “Touche.”
“Oh, would you look at that.” Steve’s reached over to retrieve one of the ornaments from the tree and hold it above their heads. Eddie glances up and is greeted by the sight of the missile toad.
“So do we kiss, now?” He asks with a raised brow, his wry tone belying how his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest.
“I mean, if we have to.” Steve says.
The words hold the implication that Steve would rather not kiss him. Eddie pretends as if it doesn’t hurt to hear; he doesn’t understand what the big deal is.
So, feeling huffy and more than a little bit spiteful, he decides to show Steve exactly what he’s missing out on.
He turns in Steve’s lap so that he can face him, and before Steve can so much as blink, Eddie is gripping his chin and kissing him deep.
Eddie presses his thumb into his jaw, making him part his lips so he can lick inside. Steve tastes of red wine and cinnamon, with the faintest hint of spearmint toothpaste; Eddie feels slightly dizzy with the taste.
Steve makes a soft noise against his mouth that Eddie swallows greedily as he allows himself to get lost to the kiss. A hand inches up the back of his sweater, and when Steve’s warm palm presses against the small of Eddie’s back, a thrill runs up his spine from the point of contact.
“Get a room, you two!” A very drunk Robin crows, and it’s enough to make the two of them spring apart.
“I think we will.” Steve says, his tone teasing, and it’s too much all at once for Eddie to handle.
“I’m pretty tired.” He lies, jumping up from Steve’s lap like he’s been burnt. He can’t quite look anyone in the eye as he makes his way out of the living room and sprints upstairs, face burning with shame.
What the fuck was he thinking?
23 Dec - 2 days to Christmas
Eddie just can’t catch a break.
He wakes up the next morning with someone spooning him. As he rouses and blinks his tired eyes open, two realisations hit him at once, and it’s as if he’s been slapped awake.
Because, one: it’s Steve spooning him.
And two: Steve is hard.
Eddie can feel the hot line of Steve’s cock pressed against him. He goes very still and holds his breath, waiting to see how Steve reacts - waiting for him to make the first move.
Steve makes a sleepy, snuffling sound, burrowing his face deeper into the crook of Eddie’s neck. And then his hips rock forward, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat because Steve is grinding his hard cock against his ass.
“Steve.” Eddie whispers, sounding strained.
“Mhm, good morning.” The words are murmured next to his ear, making him shiver. Steve is awake, but just barely, it seems; his voice sounds thick and heavy with sleep.
“Morning.” Eddie replies stiffly. He tries to subtly inch his hips forward, away from Steve - but a hand at his waist stops him, keeps him still.
“Did you sleep good?” Steve murmurs. The hand slides up beneath Eddie’s sweater, and the warm press of a palm against bare skin is enough to have Eddie melting back against him.
“Mm, yeah. You?” He murmurs, eyelashes fluttering. Steve’s index finger is tracing patterns along the vee of his hip, and the point of contact is starting to make heat simmer in Eddie’s core.
“So good.” Steve’s hips rock forward minutely. Eddie can feel lips brush against his neck in a ghost of a kiss.
Throwing caution to the wind, Eddie grinds himself back against Steve. He wants this - wants Steve, can think of nothing else in the moment but how he wants to touch and taste and take.
The repercussions of his actions could be worried about later.
“Shit - fuck me.” Eddie whines, because there’s no way Steve can possibly misinterpret that.
There’s a soft, sharp inhale of breath next to his ear; Eddie gets the feeling that if Steve hadn’t been awake before, he most certainly is now.
“You sure?” Steve breathes out. “I don’t - I mean… I don’t have a condom.”
“S’fine, just -” Eddie makes a little impatient noise, almost a whine. His cock is throbbing, and if Steve doesn’t do something about it soon, he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands. “Shit, I dunno. Fuck my thighs or something.”
“I - fuck - yeah, okay, I can do that.”
There’s the sound of material shifting as Steve manoeuvres beneath the sheets, presumably taking his underwear off. Eddie makes sure to do the same - lowering his boxers and kicking them aside. He keeps his back to Steve, though; he’s worried that if he looks at him, he’ll do something impulsive and stupid, like kissing him (because this was obviously nothing more than rushed, impulsive, convenient sex between friends - of that he was sure. People did the friends with benefits thing all the time).
Steve foils his plans almost immediately, however, when he puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and rolls him onto his back.
They stare at each other for a moment that seems to stretch out for infinity; Eddie’s eyes are wide, his cheeks feel flushed. Steve gazes down at him like he’s thinking about kissing him, and it makes Eddie’s blush travel down from his face, the heat of it spreading through his entire body.
Instead of kissing him, though, Steve tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. He leans over him, braces a hand on the mattress next to his head, then uses his other hand to grip Eddie’s thighs and coax his legs up. Eddie allows himself to be practically bent in half, pressed into the mattress by the weight of Steve’s body settling over him.
“Spit.” Steve holds a hand beneath Eddie’s chin. Eddie obliges, collecting a healthy amount of saliva in his mouth before letting it drip down into Steve’s waiting palm. The entire act feels obscene, somehow - even more so when the wet sound of Steve using his spit to slick up his cock meets Eddie’s ears.
Steve feeds his cock into the tight space between Eddie’s thighs, grunting softly, then goes still. Eddie hears him let out a shaky breath above him.
“C’mon.” Eddie squeezes his thighs around Steve’s cock, eliciting a whimper from the man. “Fuck me.” He commands.
So Steve obliges.
He starts off slow - and Eddie watches, transfixed, as Steve’s cock slides in and out between his thighs, as with each thrust that pretty, uncut cockhead seems to get redder and slicker.
“Faster.” Eddie breathes out. He wants more - wants to see Steve become undone above him. As it currently stands, Steve’s face is flushed a beautiful shade of pink, his lips parted and his brow creased with pleasure. Steve fists his hands in the sheets and starts fucking Eddie’s thighs in earnest, each thrust rocking his body against the sheets.
With each snap of Steve’s hips against his ass, the head of his cock grinds against Eddie’s own, creating a delicious sort of friction that has him keening.
“Ngh, fuck!” Eddie throws his head back, arching his hips up a bit. Steve’s cockhead catches against Eddie’s hole briefly with the next thrust, and it has him shuddering and clenching around nothing, as if desperate to be filled.
“Fuck - Eddie - m’not gonna last.” Steve lets out a low groan, and it’s the only warning Eddie gets before he’s shooting across Eddie’s stomach. Watching as the stream of cum streaks through his own happy trail is what tips Eddie over the edge, and he cums soon after with a loud, shuddery cry.
He really fucking hopes the girls can’t hear them.
Steve pulls his cock free from Eddie’s thighs and rolls over, flopping down on the mattress next to him. Eddie lowers his legs and stares up at the ceiling, mind reeling as he tries to catch up with what the fuck just happened.
Steve grabs his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe up the mess he’s made of Eddie’s abdomen. The gesture is so thoughtful and oddly intimate that it has Eddie’s heart aching.
“You wanna use the shower first?” Steve asks, as casual as if he didn’t just cum all over Eddie’s chest and stomach and thighs.
“Uh.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair (which probably looks even wilder than usual right now) and shakes his head. “Nah. You go ahead.”
Steve disappears into the ensuite, and Eddie is left alone to once again wonder just what the fuck he was thinking.
Chrissy and Robin have to leave a day early, so they end up opening presents before they go.
Chrissy’s bought him another gag t-shirt, because she knows he genuinely loves to receive them, year after year - this one says ‘Enjoy Cock’, stylized like the Coca-Cola logo (“I’ll treasure it forever.” Eddie says upon opening the gift).
In return, he’s given her the ugliest Christmas sweater he could find (and a matching one for Robin). Both of them giggle with sheer delight as they open their presents, and neither of them hesitate to put their sweaters on immediately. They demand Eddie take photos of them for Chrissy’s Instagram, which he does with little complaint. Once the impromptu photo shoot is over, he grabs another present from under the tree.
“Here.” Eddie says to Steve, holding the gift out towards him. The man smiles up at him, eyes twinkling with something Eddie can’t quite place, and takes the present with a murmured ‘thanks’.
“You open yours first, though.” Steve says, nodding to a very flat, very square present under the tree. Eddie shrugs, not thinking much of it as he plucks the gift from its place and flops back down on the couch. He tears the wrapping paper off, then goes very still when the contents of the gift are revealed to him.
“Steve…” He says, at a loss for words. Because, in his hands, he’s holding a signed Metallica record.
“Do you like it?” Steve sounds a little nervous, and when Eddie glances up he sees that he’s fidgeting with his hands. “I know you said it was your favourite album of theirs, so I tracked down an original signed vinyl.”
“How hard was it to find?” Eddie asks, dumbfounded. What goes unsaid is the ‘and how much did it cost you?’, because he’s sure it cost a pretty penny.
“Doesn’t matter.” Steve says with a small smile. “What matters is if it makes you happy.”
“I love it.” Eddie says, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “Thank you, Steve.” His gift for Steve suddenly feels inadequate, and his cheeks flush a dark red as the man in question starts opening it. Everything about his gift is objectively worse; it’s not even wrapped as nicely as Steve had wrapped his.
“I know it’s not much,” He blurts out, once Steve’s got the paper torn open, “But I like to stick to a theme with my presents. And I felt bad about stealing your sweater, so I wanted to get you a new one. And I think you look great in black, so I...” He gestures lamely towards the gift.
Steve lifts the article of clothing up to get a good look at it - it’s a quality sweater, but it’s a simple, cable knit thing, with a turtleneck (Eddie might have an agenda; he’d seen Steve in a turtleneck once and it’d been enough wet dream material for months). It’s a dark, inky black colour that Eddie knows will look great against Steve’s olive skin.
Eddie wants to shrivel up into himself with embarrassment. But Steve - Steve looks delighted. He’s beaming, grinning from ear to ear.
“I love it, Eddie.” He says. “Thank you.”
“You can return it, if you wanna get something different or if it doesn’t fit…” Eddie trails off, because Steve is already pulling the sweater on over his head. It fluffs up his hair and knocks his glasses askew, but his smile is still fixed firmly in place, unwavering.
“Oh, you’ll have to pry this sweater from my cold, dead hands. I love it.” Steve says, sounding overjoyed, as if Eddie’s gifted him diamonds and pearls instead of a stupid old sweater.
It makes Eddie’s heart ache for reasons he can’t quite place.
24 Dec - 1 day to Christmas
They don’t talk about the sex for the rest of the day, nor is it brought up in conversation the day after, and it’s excruciating. Eddie can only avoid Steve so much, confined to the cabin as they are.
He needs to blow off some steam, needs a release. Steve announces he’s going into town to get some supplies, that he’ll be gone for an hour at least. Eddie sees his window of opportunity and decides to take it.
The minute Steve leaves, Eddie heads upstairs and escapes into the bathroom - but not before retrieving the toy hidden in the bottom of his suitcase.
He’s not sure why he brought the harness, not really. It wasn’t like he came on this trip expecting to fuck someone. It’s just that sometimes, the visual really helps to get him going. Seeing a cock stand proudly between his legs just does it for him.
Once he’s alone, he strips down to nothing (the bathroom is cold, but he’s hopeful that what he’s about to do will warm him), and straps up.
He admires himself in the mirror, takes the cock in his hand and strokes upward. He likes the sight of it, likes to imagine he’s stroking himself to full hardness.
The bathroom is fucking freezing, though, to the point that it’s hard to get aroused at all. He ends up slipping back into the bedroom (where there’s a heater, at least) hoping that Steve really won’t get back anytime soon.
He’s shit out of luck, however, because as he closes the door to the bathroom and turns around, the first thing he sees is that Steve is right there, rummaging through his own luggage. Upon hearing the bathroom door being shut, he glances up in Eddie’s direction - then seems to do a double-take.
“Oh, shit.” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up when he finally takes in the sight before him. His jaw goes slack, his cheeks get all flushed and pink and pretty. “Did Christmas come early?”
Eddie fights the urge to cover himself up like some kind of blushing virgin. “I thought - I thought you went into town?”
“Realised I left my wallet here.” Steve holds up the leather wallet in question. “I, uh… I’ve got it now, so I can…” He trails off, seeming distracted as his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. His gaze appears to be fixed on the dildo that’s strapped to Eddie.
“So I can leave,” Steve continues, eventually, “Or…”
“Or?” Eddie probes, trying his hardest not to shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
“Or you can fuck me.” Steve says, and that’s when Eddie notices his pupils have gone big and dark, dilated with desire.
“Shit.” Eddie stares at him in disbelief, and a silence stretches between them for a long moment until he says, stupidly: “Y’sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything.”
“Okay.” Eddie breathes out, still reeling - but desire has settled in his core, hot and persistent, and it’s what spurs him on to say:
“Well, we need to level the playing field, don’t we? Strip for me.”
A shiver seems to run through Steve, at that. He doesn’t hesitate to undress - ridding himself of his jeans, sweater, shirt, socks and shoes at breakneck speeds.
Eddie takes his time admiring Steve’s naked form, letting his gaze travel down the length of him slowly. Steve’s cock is already standing at full attention, curved up towards his belly and glistening at the tip.
“On your hands and knees.” Eddie gestures towards the bed, turning to rummage through his luggage for the lube he’d had the foresight to pack in for personal use (he hadn’t assumed he’d be getting lucky in any capacity). By the time he turns back around, Steve has assumed the position.
“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” Eddie says as he kneels on the bed, taking special note of how the praise has Steve’s cock twitching and leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. The man himself whines and buries his face in the crook of his arm, as if embarrassed.
“Don’t hide from me.” Eddie chuckles. He pops the lube open and pours a generous amount over his fingers, taking the time to warm it up between the digits. Once his fingers are adequately slicked up, he teases one of them along Steve’s rim, watching as it flutters and clenches in anticipation.
“You done this before?” Eddie asks conversationally.
“Once or twice.” Steve grits out (Eddie tries to ignore the flash of jealousy he feels. The idea of other men fucking Steve just rubs him the wrong way). “Please just - I need you, c’mon.”
Eddie just can’t say no to Steve. He presses a finger inside, the lube easing the way and allowing him to press in all the way up to the knuckle.
“Can you take another?” Eddie murmurs, curling his finger inside of Steve and watching with some delight as it makes the man shudder.
“Not gonna break, Eddie, come on - ah!” His words are cut off with a sharp cry as Eddie leans in and bites his asscheek, at the same time as he slips a second finger inside of him. He scissors them inside of Steve, taking his sweet time stretching him out, watching placidly as he makes the man shudder and fall apart.
Steve takes his fingers beautifully, like he was made for it, made to be spread open and fucked. Eddie adds a third finger and curls them, rubbing the pads of them against his insides; Steve lets out a broken, whimpering sound in response, hips jerking forward, cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum.
“Oh, did I find it?” Eddie asks sweetly, the tone of his voice a stark contrast to how he’s fucking his fingers into Steve even harder, the slick sound of it echoing through the room. With each press of his fingers inside of Steve he makes sure to rub against the spot that has him crying out.
“Please - please Eddie.” Steve pants out, once he’s shaking from the relentless stimulation of his prostate.
“Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Please just fuck me. Need you.” He whines, and Eddie is helpless to refuse.
He shifts to get into position, kneeling right behind Steve. Gripping the shaft of the dildo in one hand and pulling Steve’s cheeks apart with the other, he takes a moment to admire how his hole flutters and clenches around nothing, how lube drips out of him and traces a glistening path down towards his balls.
“Look at you.” Eddie murmurs, and leaves it at that - lest he say something stupid that he might regret later.
(‘You’re beautiful. I love seeing you like this. Want to pull you apart at the seams, make a space for myself inside of you always, crawl inside and never leave.’)
Instead, he lines the toy up, teases the cockhead against Steve’s rim, and then he finally starts pressing inside.
“Jesus.” Steve breathes out, head dropping so that he can press his forehead against the mattress.
“Too much?” Eddie pauses, once he’s only halfway. Steve just shakes his head.
“Keep going.” Is the strained reply he gets.
Eddie rolls his hips, pushing into Steve in short thrusts until he’s finally bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Steve’s ass.
“Oh my fucking god.” Steve breathes out in an oddly small voice.
“Good?” Eddie asks, rubbing gentle circles into his lower back.
“Feel… full.” Is the reply he gets, and then Steve is rocking himself back on Eddie’s cock like he’s trying to take him even deeper. It’s enough to get Eddie to finally move. He starts with a slow, steady pace, almost teasing as he pulls out (not all the way) before snapping his hips forward in a firm thrust, making sure to grind in deep each time.
“More.” Steve commands, sounding breathless already.
“Greedy for it, are you?” Eddie teases, but he obliges anyway, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He watches as Steve’s brow creases and his lips part on a beautiful ‘oh’ of pleasure. Eddie spits between them, watches as his saliva drips down onto his hole and adds to the mess inside of him.
“Harder - fuck, baby, please fuck me harder.” Steve moans. Eddie obliges, exhaling on short pants of breath as he starts fucking into Steve as hard as he can, the mattress shaking beneath them with the force of his movements.
“You like that?” Eddie grunts with the effort of snapping his hips forward at a brutal pace. Steve whimpers with each thrust, fingers clutching at the sheets for purchase. Swept up in the moment, and acting on impulse, Eddie brings his hand down against Steve’s ass cheek hard, sending a sharp crack echoing through the room. Steve’s ass ripples with the force of it, and Eddie watches, pleased, as red welts in the shape of his fingers stand out starkly against his skin.
“I asked you a question, Steve.”
“Yes, yes -” Steve babbles, whines, turning his face against the sheets. “Fuck, fuckin love it, love your cock -”
“Look at you, practically drooling for it.” Eddie tightens the harness around his hips and grinds against his ass, pressing in deep, right where Steve needs him. “Such a cockslut for me.” He purrs.
It happens so fast. Steve’s entire body goes stiff and he lets out a broken sound, almost like a sob, and seconds later a full body shudder runs through him. Eddie watches, transfixed, as Steve’s cock twitches between his legs and dribbles a pathetic amount of cum onto the sheets. Eddie stills his hips and stares, heart pounding in his ears as he pants to catch his breath, as he takes a second to process what’s just happened.
He’s just made Steve cum on his cock. He’s given Steve a prostate orgasm.
Eddie lets out a pathetic, needy noise, because he doesn’t think he’s ever witnessed anything hotter. He continues to fuck into Steve through his orgasm, until the man is shaking with over-stimulation and biting down on his lip to suppress a sob.
“Too much, too much - Eddie, please, fuck it’s too much -”
“You can cum again, can’t you, baby?” Eddie breathes out, determined, “I know you can, c’mon, sweetheart - touch yourself for me -”
Steve obeys, because of course he does, and takes his cock in his hand to jerk it at a rapid pace, adding to the sinfully slick noises sounding between them. Steve orgasms again a moment later, sobbing as thick ropes of cum hit the sheets. His cheek is pressed against the mattress, and Eddie can see how his eyes are closed and his lips are parted as he pants for breath. Eddie watches as sweat beads down his spine and tears make his cheeks glisten; he commits the sight to memory, like his own personal little oil painting to revisit in his mind whenever he wants.
Eddie’s not sure what to do with the knowledge that Steve is so beautiful when he cums, especially now that he’s been fortunate enough to witness it thrice.
Steve doesn’t react past a small mewl when the silicone cock slips out of his well fucked hole. Eddie escapes for a moment to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, which he wets with warm water before returning to Steve. He cleans up the remnants of lube and cum that still clings to Steve’s body. Steve is so blissed out that he barely seems to react. He definitely doesn’t notice when Eddie gets dressed and slips out to have a smoke.
It’s freezing cold outside. But it serves to sober Eddie up, to help him think a little more clearly.
He really doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.
By the time Eddie returns, Steve is fast asleep. He’s so pretty, like this; hair haloed around him on the pillows, beautiful pink lips parted just so. It makes Eddie’s heart clench.
That’s the moment he knows he’s reached his limit.
25 Dec - Christmas Day
“I can’t do this anymore!” Eddie blurts out on Christmas morning.
Steve looks up from his mug of hot cocoa and blinks at him slowly. “...Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“I’m serious, Steve - I can’t. I just can’t do it.”
“May I ask what ‘it’ is?”
“This… this casual sex thing we’ve been doing.”
Steve’s brow furrows, as if he’s confused, “Casual…?”
“I just -” Eddie makes a frustrated noise and knots a hand in his own hair, “It hurts too much, okay? To know that it’s nothing more than sex - when I want more, Steve. I want you, I want to date you, but I know I can’t have you.”
Steve stares at him for a drawn-out moment that feels excruciatingly endless. And then he just gives Eddie a wry little smile, like he’s amused by something - a joke that Eddie isn’t in on.
“What?” He demands, a hot flash of irritation heating up his cheeks.
“Why do you think you can’t have me, exactly?” Steve asks. “Just out of curiosity.”
Eddie frowns, bristling. “You don’t have to rub it in -”
“Eddie. Please answer the question for me.”
Eddie shuts his mouth and pauses to think of the answer. He thinks, and thinks, and realises, slowly, that he has no idea what the answer actually is.
“Because you’re out of my league.” He tries, but it’s weak - a cop-out of an answer, “There’s no way someone like me could have someone like you.”
“You do have me, Eddie. We’ve been dating for a month.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, the night I gave you my sweater?” Steve’s cheeks are flushed, and he turns his face away, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda assumed we were… together. I’m sorry, it’s a bold assumption, I know -”
Eddie cuts him off, makes a shushing noise and mimes zipping his lips shut. Because he just needs a moment to process.
And the more he thinks about it, the more he realises - shit, they actually have been dating. The casual touches. The shared looks. The regular meet-ups at the coffee shop that Steve would always pay for. Steve giving him that smile every time he saw Eddie wearing the sweater. The way Steve had asked him if he wanted to get coffee, the very same night he’d given Eddie the sweater.
(“Thanks.” Eddie said, then glanced up, realising something. “What about you? Won’t you get cold?”
“We can just cuddle to stay warm, right?” Steve said, and Eddie laughed, so sure it was a joke.
“I mean, yeah, sure. Why not?” Eddie pulled the sweater on, fluffing up his hair in the process. Once it was on, he glanced up and realised Steve was staring.
“What?”
“Do you wanna get coffee with me?” Steve blurted out. “This Saturday.”
“Sure, man.” Eddie agreed with an easy shrug. “Sounds good.”)
He hadn’t thought much of it at the time - had thought of it as nothing more than friends getting coffee together. Though now that he reflects on that day, he starts to realise just how oblivious he’s been.
At the end of what he now realises was their first date, Steve had asked if he’d want to do it again. Eddie had agreed without so much as a second thought - lots of people got coffee with their friends regularly.
(Except, it wasn’t always coffee. During what Eddie now realises was their third date, Steve took him out for dinner. He even drove Eddie home afterwards and walked him to the trailer. Eddie knows, now, that the lingering look he’d been on the receiving end of was likely Steve considering whether or not to kiss him. Eddie had said good night and escaped inside before he’d gotten so much as a chance.)
“So… we’re boyfriends.” Eddie says, slowly.
“Well, I assumed we were.” Steve still sounds a little sheepish. “We don’t have to be if that’s not what you want - we can take things slow, or just…break things off,” he winces, “Whatever you -”
“Shut up.” Eddie says emphatically, and then he yanks Steve forward by the front of his sweater and kisses him soundly.
They end up falling onto the couch together, tangled up in each other as they kiss feverishly. Their hands wander, exploring one another’s bodies with a newfound kind of urgency. Like now that they know they can touch each other, neither of them want to stop.
Things start to feel overheated in more ways than one, and it’s when heat starts pooling between Eddie’s legs and sweat starts beading on his temple that he breaks the kiss to pull off his sweater.
“Keep it on.” Steve says. Eddie pauses and starts lowering his arms, letting the sweater drop back down.
“You really do like seeing me in it, huh?” He asks with a smug little smile.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“We’re still wearing way too much clothing right now, though.” He whines. Steve quickly resolves the issue by tugging off Eddie’s sweatpants and underwear in one swift movement, followed by his own clothes being practically torn off of his body with the speed that he undresses. Eddie has half a mind to ask Steve to keep his sweater on, too - it’s the one he’d given him for Christmas, and he looks positively delectable in it. But naked Steve is a sight in itself to behold, and Eddie makes a pleased noise when he’s graced by the sight of his pretty cock again. He spreads his own legs to give Steve a better view of his own swollen dick and dripping cunt.
Steve’s gaze, dark with want, lingers for a moment on Eddie’s puffy folds.
“Wanna finger you open, is that okay?” Steve breathes out.
“By all means.” Eddie says, a hot thrill running through him at the request.
Steve taps two fingers against Eddie’s lips, a silent request. He parts his lips and sucks the digits into his mouth, getting them slick with his saliva. Once Steve is satisfied, he pulls his fingers free of Eddie’s mouth and trails them down to circle them against his hole.
“You still want it?” He murmurs.
“Yeah.” Eddie says, already breathless with desire.
“But are you wet enough for them?” Steve asks, and before Eddie can reply, he spits directly against his cunt. It’s a filthy parallel to what Eddie had done to him the night before, adding to the mess of slick inside of him. Two fingers press inside of him and a wet squelch sounds through the room, accompanied by a soft noise from Steve - something between a moan and a noise of disbelief, like he can’t quite believe how easily Eddie takes his thick fingers.
“God…” Eddie sighs and tilts his head back, focusing on the feeling of Steve’s fingers scissoring inside of him.
“Is that good?” Steve asks, going agonisingly slow as he rubs against Eddie’s inner walls. Eddie makes an impatient noise and rocks himself down on his hand.
“More.” He demands. “Not fragile, Steve.”
Steve obliges by slipping a third finger inside of him, making Eddie gasp - but he still moves them in a slow drag, being an absolute tease. His thumb rubs lazy circles against Eddie’s cock, making him twitch with sensitivity.
“Fuck - just -” Eddie whines and grips Steve’s wrist, keeping his hand right where he wants it. He braces his feet on the couch and starts to fuck himself down on Steve’s fingers, making Steve’s palm slap against his pussy with the force.
“Just like that.” He moans, already panting with the effort.
“Wish that was my cock.” Steve breathes out, unable to tear his gaze away from where Eddie is riding his fingers.
“Me too.” Eddie says, grinding down on the heel of Steve’s hand - feeling the pleasure rise, and rise - but he stills his hips just before he reaches the peak of it. He wants more. “Fuck me.”
“But, I don’t…” Steve falters. “The condom…?”
“Don’t care. Wanna feel you raw, Steve - c’mon.” Eddie tugs at Steve’s wrist until his fingers retreat from inside of him. “Don’t make me wait all day, big boy.”
Steve seems to snap out whatever daze that’s been keeping him still and moves forward, hovering over Eddie. He takes himself in his hand and pauses to rub against Eddie, the slick, uncut head of his cock dragging against Eddie’s own swollen dick. Eddie can’t quite pull his gaze away from the sight.
“You’re so fuckin’ big.” He breathes out, and the words make Steve’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Don’t even know how you’re gonna fit that thing inside of me.”
“We don’t have to - I mean, I can just eat you out or finger you until you cum.” Steve offers, and he licks his lips like he’s actually dying to do either of those things. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.
“Fuck that, I want you inside of me.” Eddie says, and he wraps a leg around Steve’s waist and rocks his hips up, making his cockhead slip down and rub against his hole, right where he wants him. Steve swears quietly and grips the base of his cock, lining himself up, and then he’s pressing in with a low groan. Eddie’s pretty sure he sees stars; he’d already been close just from riding Steve’s fingers, so he’s on just the right side of sensitive as Steve stretches him out on his cock.
“So tight.” Steve breathes out, strained. He grips Eddie’s hips and begins to move - slow, steady thrusts that quickly dissolve into something faster, slightly more frantic. The movements have Eddie’s body rocking against the couch, have breathy ‘ah’ noises escaping him with each slam of Steve’s hips against his. Steve slides his hands up from Eddie’s hips, fingers fluttering along his sides in a gentle motion that has Eddie shivering. He sees the moment Steve seems to get an idea - sees the glimmer of it in his eyes - and then he’s tugging up the bottom of his sweater and bringing it up towards Eddie’s mouth.
“Bite down.” Steve murmurs. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to oblige, biting down so he’s holding the material up between his teeth. He’s sure he must be a pretty sight - biting down on the sweater to suppress his noises, his flushed chest and perked-up nipples on display for Steve. The way his abdomen shivers and flexes as his core clenches, as his inner walls tighten around Steve’s cock as if trying to pull him even deeper inside. With every thrust, the sounds get wetter, and he’s sure they’ve made a mess of the couch beneath them; lube and slick and pre-cum slide out of him and drip down Steve’s cock with each filthy drag of it inside of Eddie.
Steve’s cock presses right up against where Eddie wants it most, the spot that has his toes curling.
“Fuck - right there, right there, baby.” Eddie gasps, the sweater released from his mouth in the process. “Right there - right there -”
“Here?” Steve asks innocently, rolling his hips in a filthy grind and - in his efforts to no doubt send Eddie hurtling over the edge - he teases Eddie’s cock between his fingers.
“Steve!” Eddie cums with a loud whine, hips arching up from the couch as he shudders through the wave of pleasure. His vision whites out for a moment, and when he comes back to himself and blinks stars from his eyes, the first thing he notices is that Steve has shifted the two of them into a sitting position. Eddie is in his boyfriend’s lap, still seated on his cock.
“Oh, I’m not done with you, yet.” Steve pants, meeting Eddie’s gaze and giving him a little wicked grin. “You can cum again.” He coos, echoing Eddie’s own words from the night before. “Can’t you, baby?”
In a flash of movement (and an impressive display of strength), Eddie is lifted up from the couch and into Steve’s arms. Eddie yelps quietly, wraps his legs around Steve’s waist and clutches at his shoulders. He’s carried over to the nearest surface - which just so happens to be a wall. He barely registers the press of the wall against his back before Steve is sinking him back down on his cock and rutting into him at a desperate pace. Eddie wraps his arms around his neck and holds on for dear life, squeezing his thighs around Steve’s waist.
“Ah - haaah -” He lets out breathless little noises of pleasure each time Steve fucks up into him. Eddie is already sensitive from cumming moments before - and with the added benefit of the new angle allowing Steve to fuck into him even deeper, Eddie can already feel the start of another orgasm stirring in his core. Not to mention that being manhandled like this - held up with surprising ease by his thighs (and he knows he’s not light, not by any means. He’s about as tall as Steve is, if not taller - and, while he’s admittedly more wiry, he’s sure they must weigh about the same. Steve is just strong) - well, it’s really doing it for him.
Steve is letting out grunts of effort, using all of his (impressive) strength to hold Eddie up and fuck into him as hard as he can.
“Just like that,” Eddie breathes out, “Fuck - just like that, baby, so fuckin’ good for me.”
The praise has Steve whining and hiding his face against Eddie’s neck, his hips stuttering in their movements.
It hasn’t escaped Eddie’s notice, just how affected Steve seems to be by praise. The way Steve is practically trembling against him is what spurs Eddie on to continue talking.
“You make me feel so good, baby,” Eddie purrs against his ear, “You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”
“Fuck, Eddie, m’gonna cum -” Steve whines against his neck, before biting down into the junction between Eddie’s neck and shoulder with a whimper. Eddie feels the exact moment Steve is tipped over the edge - feels how his cock pulses inside of him, how he grinds in as deep as he possibly can and goes still, how his shoulders shake as pure pleasure ripples through his body. Eddie feels the moment his insides are flooded with warmth, and it’s enough to make his toes curl, almost enough to have him cum again, himself.
He barely has time to process the fact that Steve’s just cum inside of him before the man is pulling out, and Eddie whines softly at the loss. The whine gets stuck in his throat as he watches Steve fall to his knees in front of him - because, god, if that isn’t a pretty sight - and with little preamble he’s parting Eddie’s folds with his fingers and flattening his tongue against his hole, lapping up their combined release as it drips out of him.
“Fuck!” Eddie’s hands fly down to grip at Steve’s hair. “Mm, look at you, such a good boy on your knees for me… You gonna clean up the mess you made?”
“Mhm.” Steve hums in agreement and turns his face to nuzzle against Eddie’s inner thigh for a moment. He bites down on the soft flesh before turning his attention back to the task at hand, licking inside of him, slow and filthy.
Steve presses his forearm across Eddie’s stomach, pinning him to the wall in a silent command of ‘don’t go anywhere’. He pulls back and sticks out his tongue, letting Eddie see how their combined release has made it all shiny.
“Stay like that.” Eddie commands. Steve lifts his eyebrows but obediently keeps his tongue stuck out for him. Eddie grabs fistfuls of his hair and, barely giving his boyfriend time to react, starts rutting his cock against his tongue. Steve moans and his eyes roll back, and it encourages Eddie to keep going.
“You like that, huh?” He breathes out. “Like it when I fuck your face?”
Steve tries to nod, but Eddie keeps his head still with the tight grip he has on his hair. So he just moans, the sound vibrating against Eddie’s cock. Saliva pools at the corners of his mouth and starts to drip down his chin, making an absolute mess of him.
“Suck it.” Eddie says, tugging sharply at his hair one last time. “Make me cum.”
Steve obediently wraps his lips around Eddie’s cock and sucks at it for all he’s worth. It isn’t long before he’s tumbling over the edge into absolute bliss, cumming against Steve’s tongue with a shuddering cry. He releases his grip on his hair and Steve pulls off of him with a soft gasp. Eddie takes a moment to admire him as he catches his breath.
Seeing Steve like this, on his knees, with his hair a mess and his lips and chin shiny with slick, his expression blissed out as he gazes up at Eddie - he’s a sight to behold, another oil painting for Eddie’s personal little gallery.
Now that he knows that he can admire Steve like this without guilt, now that he knows only he gets to see him like this - now that he knows Steve is his, and his alone - Eddie thinks he might be the luckiest motherfucker on earth.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know we were dating.” Steve pants, swiping a thumb across his chin to collect the slick there. He sucks the digit into his mouth to clean it (Eddie thanks every god that’s listening that his boyfriend is just as filthy as he is) and gives Eddie a wry smile. “What did you think all those dates were? Just guys being dudes?” He teases.
“Steve…” Eddie runs a hand over his face and exhales on a self-deprecating laugh. “I know, okay? In hindsight, I can see how oblivious I’ve been.”
Steve rises to his feet until they’re nose-to-nose, grinning as he presses a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips.
“Look at us, huh?” He giggles between kisses. “Just a couple of pals.”
“Steve.”
“Two bros, chilling in a hot tub.”
“Five feet apart, ‘cause they’re not gay?”
Steve laughs, and it’s a sonnet. “Exactly.”
“Oh my god, you’re never gonna let it go, are you?” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s lips, winding his arms around his neck.
“Nope.” Steve says. “So, about those coffees you said you owe me…”
“Shut up.” Eddie says fondly.