Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steve's driving home from dropping off Eddie at the trailer park. His mind races more than usual given the fact that not only did they make out in this very car only moments ago, but somehow Steve had the strength to get Eddie out of said car and honour his curfew.

It's true that Steve is trying to be on his best behaviour, given the last few years. Even if his parents never actually appreciate it. Although, If Steve were being honest, it was fear that had him burning rubber.

He pulls into the driveway, taking a moment to curse himself in the car. His hands grip the steering wheel. All he can think about is how they were just locked in Eddie's curls. "Jesus."

From the foyer, Steve beelines to his bedroom. When he's safely behind the door he starts freaking out. He can think clearly now, away from the smell of Eddie that lingered in his car - reminded of when that damn denim vest made the scent follow him everywhere. The same Dio-back-patched vest currently hanging in his closet. He gulps, body coming down from the endorphin rush - nerves taking the chemical's place.

The thing is, Steve's never kissed a guy. Well, he's never kissed a guy before tonight. Holy shit, he kissed a guy. And not any guy, he's kissed Eddie Munson. The little voice in his head, that takes over when Robin isn't available, looms.

Steve had wanted to kiss Eddie for a long time. Somewhere along the way, while saving the world, he became overcome with the desire. It was Robin who pointed out how they looked at one another. When Steve admitted as much, but refused to believe it was reciprocal, Robin implied she knew otherwise.

Previously unwilling to take the risk based solely on Robin's intuition, tonight had changed things. The more Steve pressed Eddie about how he was acting, the more scared the man seemed to become. Steve recognized the fear.

And then there was the lip gloss.

Steve huffs a low laugh of disbelief as he finally peels away from the door, walking over to fall face-first into his bed. He proceeds to whine frustratedly into his pillow. He hears Robin laughing at him.

Steve flips over. He knows why he's frustrated and who is frustrated with other than himself. Eddie's satisfied grin haunts him. The way the metalhead could tell that Steve was finding it hard to stop and didn't do anything to help, the bastard.

Steve presses the back of his hand to his lips wishing it was Eddie's. The other hand pushes down to unbuckle his belt. Steve thinks of the soft tug Eddie did with a fist full of his hair. Then how Steve's answering pull had the other man moaning into his mouth. Their breathlessness when they broke, foreheads and grins meeting one another's.

Steve begins to stroke himself at the memory of their in-sync breathing, continuing with the imagination of what could have been if he hadn't been so unbelievably terrified. Imagining the metalhead pushing Steve back against the seat and leaning over the center console, making quick work of Steve's belt and fly. Pulling him out of his briefs. Taking him in his mouth. Steve's hand on the top of Eddie's head, guiding gently, eagerly. Eddie's curls peeking through his fingers as the man works him over.

Steve's hand speeds up, Eddie's name on the tip of his tongue. When his sweater arm comes across his face, the scent of Eddie returns - tobacco, weed, and musk. It's like Eddie's there with him, tasting him and saying again that he knew it'd be cherry and Steve spills all over himself. He bites into his sweater sleeve, getting off just as much on his own muffled scream.

As he lay there Steve was certain of two things. He'd never been so glad his parents were leaving and the next time he saw Eddie couldn't come soon enough.

The next morning Steve gets ready in his bathroom. He's eager to get over to Eddie's trailer since his parents have gone. No questions are a good thing for them right now. Besides, he just wants to chat - to see his buddy. Ugh, buddy? Really Steve?

Anyway, it's about time he returns that denim vest - not that he needs an excuse.

Steve continues his routine on autopilot. He might put on more Cologne than usual, but not like an offensive amount or anything... For the love of god, Eddie will clock it immediately and though Steve logically knows that's the point, he can't help but recoil at his own performance.

Then the autopilot short circuits as Steve holds the rollerball of Cherry-flavoured Kissing Potion to his lips. The scent. The taste. Now he just thinks of Eddie.

The metalhead was technically right. It was a girl he got the lip gloss off of. Initially at least. Where he was wrong was the type of girl: Robin, not a conquest. Not anymore at least.

Steve winces at the thought. Of course, his interest in Robin was more Dustin's influence than anything else. That as well as Steve totally losing his game after Nancy and he split. That sends another wince to Steve's face: Dustin recently misreading his care for Nancy. Both of them prove that neither his pseudo little brother nor he himself knows what Steve wants.

Steve's suddenly hyper-aware that he made out with Dustin's current idol. An avalanche of connecting thoughts clamour for the spotlight in Steve's mind to which he simply screams 'no'. That box of cats can be opened later. Much later.

After a speedy drive, Steve stands in front of Eddie's trailer, Eddie's vest in hand, just about to knock on the door when it opens. There stands Eddie, leather, additional battle vest, and all. He looks good. What is it about a stupid denim vest that has Steve going all goo-goo ga-ga?

"Steve Harrington," Eddie drawls with a grin, a hand meeting the door frame as he leans. "I was just about to come find you."

"Well, you found me!" Eddie motions for Steve to enter with a soft chuckle. Real smooth thinks Steve as he walks forward.

Before the trailer door even shuts Eddie has him pushed up against the nearest wall, the vest dropping to the floor. Their noses grazing, Steve swallows around a gulp. Meanwhile, Eddie's looking at Steve like the man is ready to swallow him.

"Well hello to you too," says Steve. Eddie's hands are splayed on the wall on either side of his head. The glint of his ever-on rings shifts as he presses closer.

Eddie pushes in slowly, starting at the thighs, and waist, then their stomachs and chest meet. Steve feels warm all over, flush from Eddie's entire body weight pressing against him. Eddie touches their lips together. The kiss is tentative and longing: a far cry from the urgency they found the night before.

Steve acknowledges that this is also Eddie taking initiative, which hadn't happened the night before. To everyone's surprise, it was Steve who took the lead. But not right now. Right now the former jock was completely at Eddie's mercy.

"I see you wore that lip gloss again... Thank you Maybelline," says Eddie licking his lips and turning Steve's head. Eddie moves to mouth at Steve's neck. Steve groans. He thanks Maybelline too. Steve's hands grab at Eddie's waist, pulling him closer as Steve grinds up.

Eddie ceases, "Got anywhere to be?"

Steve's confused, but plays along, "No."

"Good."

"Why?"

Eddie gives Steve a quick peck on the lips then immediately drops to his knees to start unbuckling Steve's belt.

"Fuck." Steve runs a hand through his hair, trying to even out his breathing. This can't actually be happening.

As Steve stands there, semi hanging out of his jeans, Eddie leans back onto his heels. He looks up at Steve with a big smile on his face as he digs a condom out of his pocket. "Who has a curfew at twenty anyway?" Eddie opens the condom with his teeth.

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh, shut u-" Eddie puts the condom on Steve and then everything from Steve's imagination the night before becomes reality. He's hurdling down on a rollercoaster, barely holding on as Eddie takes him in his mouth. Steve makes the mistake of looking down to find Eddie looking up at him. Steve whimpers as his knees buckle at the sight but Eddie catches him enough for Steve to remain upright. His hand goes to Eddie's hair. Eddie doubles his efforts.

"Fuck! Eddie!" shouts Steve, coming as the man's lips continue to stretch over his length. Steve's head knocks back against the wall that's barely holding him up as Eddie rises and captures his lips, tucking Steve back into his jeans.

"God, you sound good like that." Steve's delirious laugh bubbles up through the satisfying ache that permeates his body. Eddie presses in again, grinding against Steve, who, although sensitive can only think about feeling Eddie through his jeans.

Steve reaches between them and languidly palms Eddie. The metalhead grunts in response.

"You sound good too." Eddie pulls away slightly, biting at his bottom lip as he reaches down and slides over his trademark handcuff belt buckle. He takes Steve's hand, guiding it into his boxers. Short of a whistle, Steve breathes through pursed lips as he takes hold.

Eddie's hand moves up Steve's arm, landing on the side of the other man's neck. He slowly pushes Steve's chin up with his thumb so that Steve's head hits the wall again. After bracing from the pressure, Steve melts into the motion. The pleasant soreness from Eddie's thumb at the underside of his chin. Steve wants to know nothing else and it's all Eddie's fault. So Steve gets back at Eddie by stopping his hand.

That's when Eddie tightens his fingers around Steve's neck, just slightly, testing and questioning approval with his eyes.

"Yes," says Steve, and Eddie increases the pressure. As the metalhead's mouth drops open, Steve starts stroking him again - head pleasantly fuzzy.

Steve's languid pace picks up and Eddie's breath quickens. Eddie crashes back into Steve who continues to work between them. Figuratively eating up every last moan and whimper, Steve kisses the other man through.

The subtlest hint of Cherry lingers between them as they separate.

Eddie sees the denim vest still on the floor, next to Steve's feet. He bends down to pick it up, handing it to Steve. "You dropped something," he says smugly. Steve's chin drops to his chest, the headiness of the encounter not letting up until-

"Shit," says Steve.

"Yeah," breathes Eddie, about to lean in and devour Steve whole again, but Steve stops him with a palm on his chest.

"No. I mean-yeah, but, um, I don't think I have an extra shirt in my car." Steve watches Eddie's confusion shift to an eye roll when he sees the mess made of Steve's polo and his own shirt.

Before he can really react Eddie's manhandling Steve towards his bedroom with a smirk. Once inside Steve stands awkwardly at the end of the bed - vest in hand - while Eddie opens and closes several dresser drawers. After settling on two shirts, he throws one of them at Steve who in turn throws the vest and shirt onto the bed.

He peels off his polo, dropping it on the ground. As he reaches for Eddie's shirt - a t-shirt with the name of some band Steve's never heard of - he catches Eddie leering at him.

Steve can't help himself, winking at Eddie, likewise eyeing the other man's shirtless state. You'd think they had it out of their system, but Steve can feel the thickness of the air between them. It formed the moment the door opened and hasn't cleared since.

Eddie saddles up next to Steve and picks up the vest from the bed.

"Remember when I had you wearing this for nearly twenty-four hours?" asks Eddie, smirking as he whips the vest over onto Steve, who puts his arms through. His face is red, he can feel it.

"Yeah, yeah," replies Steve before he pulls Eddie in by the lapels. "I will admit, I wouldn't mind seeing you in this sans shirt too."

Just the thought has Steve pushing Eddie back against the dresser with a bruising kiss. He pulls back with the metalhead's bottom lip between his teeth making Eddie groan. God, Eddie's gonna be the death of him.

"Well, Steve, if I knew it was the denim vest that would woo you, I'd've started wearing it when you were still in school."

Steve chuckles before suddenly going rigid. "Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me!" Eddie looks at him with furrowed brows that don't suit him.

Steve sucks his teeth, "Sorry. I just - man that little fucker. I hate him."

"Hate who Steve?"

"Dustin. I swear, if the little twerp weren't so fond of me - as you claim - I'd swear he was my arch nemesis or something." This doubles Eddie's vacant questioning expression and Steve realizes he's buried the lead. He leans down to rest his forehead on Eddie's shoulder, laughing at himself. Laughing at it all, really.

"You just made me remember this time when Dustin and I were at the movies. I was giving him a little chick scoring advice-" Eddie snickers at this, mouthing 'sorry' under Steve's unimpressed stare.

"You've been hanging out with Robin too much... Anyway, well, he was wearing a denim vest, blabbing on about saving my seat and how many girls he turned away. So I told him - I can't believe I'm telling you this - uff, whatever! I told him to ditch the denim vest. That the vest, that it wouldn't exactly woo the ladies." Eddie just blinks at him. "And that wasn't the first time I told him to stop wearing it either. Why the hell am I admitting this to you? What have you done to me?" Steve rubs his face.

"Well, if what we just did says anything, you Steve Harrington are no lady."

"Uh huh, laugh it up." Eddie's smile from ear to ear says it all. Steve's never gonna hear the end of this.