Archive of Our Own

Falling for Eddie Munson the second time around is proving to be just as chaotic as the first. Not that he ever stopped falling, not really.

He supposes he more accurately hit rock bottom, the hard ground under the cliffs of himself. He hit the ground hard on his back, stood up, took a look around, and started building a ladder. Back to himself, or back to Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure. He just knew he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He had no real family in Minnesota, not like he had in Indiana.

Not his parents, no. They had been all too absent as soon as he turned twenty, blanching in shock when he told them he was getting an apartment with Eddie. He hadn’t even told them the whole truth, that he was certain Eddie would be the one once they sloughed through the trauma they’d been served by the universe on a silver platter. No, he’d just told them he was moving out and when they asked who with (“because there’s no way you’ll be able to afford the real world on your own, Steven.”) he just said “Eddie.” And that was that.

Roger and Sherri Harrington had stopped being his parents a long time before that, anyhow.

The sweet, feral group of kids he babysat and everyone that came with them had become his family. Joyce Byers his adoptive mother, Hopper his chosen father, and the kids all his younger siblings, swearing to himself that as long as he had a pulse, those kids would be safe. When Robin crashed her way into his life like a cartoon bird that extended to her as well, and Nancy along with Jonathan, once the three of them had found a way to love each other again.

Then, along came Eddie. Eddie, with his sweet disposition and wide eyes, taking Dustin and the boys under his leather-bound wing as soon as he possibly could. Doing his best to keep everyone safe, even though he barely knew them, even though it almost cost him his life. Eddie, with his comforting words and calming touches.

Eddie, who took him back. Who trusted him with the most precious thing, his daughter. Who saw Steve at his worst and chose to love him anyway, chose to invite him into his life again with the only hesitation being if Steve wanted him. Which, good god, Steve never stopped wanting Eddie.

Even when he moved to Minnesota without him, started a whole new relationship, and got engaged, Steve never stopped wanting Eddie. He thought about him all the time; whenever he bought Eddie’s favorite cereal, when he did the dishes, when he woke up alone in a cold bed for the first time.

When Steve moved to Minneapolis, he thought it would be good for him, the ‘doing something with his life’ his folks always talked about. He did like it at first, his co-workers were lovely and his apartment was pretty decent for the rent he paid for it. Granted, it was supposed to have Eddie in it, but it still did the job of keeping a roof over his head. He loved helping the kids he was assigned, always making note of their favorite snacks and things to keep in his office.

But it became rather obvious rather quickly that Minneapolis was never meant to be his home, the people here not meant to be his family, not like the one he had back in Hawkins. They sent him letters and made sure to call, but it still felt like Steve was watching their lives like he was on the outside of a snow-globe, gazing in and wishing he was a part of the scene in the globe like he used to do with his mother’s expensive Christmas decorations.

He met Sam, and his first thought was oh, no. Sam was handsome, wickedly charming, and took a shine to Steve immediately; dressing him in expensive suits that Steve couldn’t afford anymore and taking him to restaurants with dishes he could never hope to pronounce. They were happy, for a while, while Steve was drowning in master’s degree homework and Sam would ease his mind with smooth lines and rough sex.

He and Steve were cut from the same cloth, rich kids with something to prove, but where Steve had grown and softened, Sam was rigid, sneering at people who couldn’t, in his eyes, do as well as he could. They had fought about it like they were being paid to do it, Steve screaming at him to just be nice for once in his silver-spoon life, Sam screaming back that he didn’t owe anyone his kindness if it wasn’t shown to him.

Needless to say, Steve was glad for the distraction of Dustin getting married so he could just go home. Back to his family, back to himself, back to feeling like he wasn’t going to be pushed off of an emotional cliff all the time. The problem, at the time, was that with home came Eddie. He wasn’t lying when he said he took one look at Eddie and knew he wasn’t over him, that he was just fooling himself thinking he could stay with Samuel. He gave it a valiant effort, letting Sam show-pony him around in people’s faces, but it must’ve been visible how much he missed Eddie, because in the end, he got dumped.

And thank god for that. Because now, with the early June sun on his face as he and Eddie push Zoe on the swings at the park, he’s happy. He’s really, truly happy.

–

Eddie’s laying his head in Steve’s lap when Zoe asks.

They’ve been watching movies all day, three in the afternoon and they’re all still in their jammies. Well, really, they’re all in Eddie’s clothes; Steve in his black and white checkered pajama pants and old Dio shirt that has holes in the armpits but it’s comfortable, and Zoe in one of his plain black t-shirts that makes a fantastic makeshift nightgown.

Steve has his feet kicked up on the coffee table, sitting up so Eddie can lay down and put his head in Steve’s lap. He was facing the TV for awhile, but now he’s on his back, the two of them just looking at each other while Steve plays with his hair. Zoe’s in her bean bag chair next to the couch, she’s been switching seats all afternoon, when she just kind of blurts it out.

“Dad? Are you and Stevie together like grandpa and Ms. Claudia are together?”

Steve’s hand goes still in Eddie’s hair. He’s expecting Eddie to say no, play it cool, tell her Steve’s just a special friend, or some other palatable thing that would sting Steve where it hurts. But no, Eddie just-

“Yep.”

Zoe nods like she knew she would be right and says, “okay. I’m gonna go play Barbies now,” and trots off to her room.

Eddie throws his hands up, nearly clipping Steve in the nose, and huffs. “I had a whole speech for that. I was fully prepared to explain being queer to my five year old. Man, I had it memorized and everything.”

He looks genuinely crestfallen, and it makes Steve snort. “You can give me the speech, if you want.”

Eddie’s smile curls the corners of his mouth and makes his pretty cheeks dimple. “Hmm, no, I think I’d rather give you a kiss instead.”

Steve’s cheeks go pink. “Then you’ll have to get up here, babycakes, my back ain’t what it used to be.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me we’re old now,” Eddie groans, still smiling. He sits up with an audible crack, climbing into Steve’s lap with his thighs on either side of Steve’s. The only thing stopping Steve from popping an embarrassingly quick semi is the dorky eyebrow waggle Eddie gives him, and even then Steve has to think about, like, a bloody Demogorgon or some other gross thing to calm him down.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie whispers, kissing his forehead and all the larger freckles on his face.

“You’re pretty,” is what Steve blurts out instead of the half-baked smooth pickup line he had in his head. It seems to work anyway, as Eddie moves from cute pecks on his face to lingering, sucking kisses on his neck.

Steve is a firm believer in giving as good as he gets, so he smooths one hand up Eddie’s back, briefly scratching the sensitive small of it, and fists the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck. He gives it the gentlest of tugs, and procures a wonderful little whimpering sound out of Eddie.

“That was so sweet, baby, do it again,” Steve says, pulling a little harder this time.

Eddie does as he’s told, closing his mouth over Steve’s so he isn’t too loud. Once Steve’s hold on his hair is released, he sighs. “As much as I would love for you to fuck me right here on my couch, that would be pretty irresponsible.”

Steve puts on a brave face, like he isn’t disappointed. And he isn’t disappointed in any significant way, really, he knows they have to think about things a little harder now than they used to. When they were twenty-somethings, a lazy afternoon fuck on the couch was to be expected. Now, Eddie thirty-one and Steve thirty, things are a bit different. Steve smiles at Eddie, and places a sweet peck on his lips.

“It would, you’re right. When we have a nice chunk of time, and you’re ready, we can do whatever we want, okay?”

Eddie’s face sours a bit at the ‘being ready’ part of his sentence. “Who said I wasn’t ready?”

Steve’s eyebrows pull together. “Um… you did? When we had that big talk?”

“Jesus, Steve, that was in February, it’s June.”

Steve’s nose wrinkles at Eddie’s tone. “We haven’t really talked about it at all, so I went with the knowledge I had, which was that you wanted to take things, and I quote, ‘Tortoise slow’.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Steve. Do you really think I would’ve climbed in your lap and made out with you if I wasn’t ready to?”

“You know I’m not good with cues like that.”

Softening a bit, Eddie sighs. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Listen, back in April, when Robin very brashly asked us if we’d boned yet, I had a teeny-tiny anxiety episode in the kitchen, and-”

Steve’s eyes go saucer-wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to freak you out! I also very much did not want to discuss my sexual insecurities at my child’s fifth birthday party, Steve. Now stop interrupting, please.”

Steve sighs through his nose and moves Eddie’s bangs out of his eyes. “Fine, fine, please continue.”

Eddie gives him a little smile and catches Steve’s hand in his own. “Thank you, sweetheart. To make a long story short, which I never do so be grateful, I haven’t had sex since Lilly, and I was afraid of being, like, rusty. And then there’s the years-old fear of not being what you actually want.” His smile has faded into a worried grimace, and Steve just cannot have that.

“You’re better at cues than I am, so let me ask you this. Would I have let you climb into my lap and make out with me if you weren’t what I wanted?”

The smile is back, and Eddie slaps a faux-offended hand to his chest. “Steve Harrington, how dare you use my words against me!”

Steve giggles, the usual product of Eddie’s dramatics, and shrugs. “I gotta get through that big head somehow.”

Eddie likes to fight dirty, so he resorts to tactical warfare. Tickling.

“No! No, that’s not fair! Eddie!”

Eddie keeps digging his fingers into Steve’s ribs, tickling and maniacally cackling.

“I’ll pee, I swear I will! I’ll piss your own pants and all over your couch!”

Eddie grins wickedly. “And how do you know I’m not into that?”

Steve just snorts. “Because you weren’t when we were together, and I imagine you haven’t changed much in that department.”

“I haven’t really, no. Have you?”

Steve can tell by the rare bashful look on his face that it’s a question Eddie’s been wanting to ask for a while. “No, not really. The most interesting thing I’ve done is when we-”

Eddie claps a hand over his mouth. “There are children here, Stevie. Besides, I don’t want another embarrassingly fast semi.”

So Steve wasn’t the only one, then. “You’re right, we can talk about this later. But if there’s anything you want to ask me, I’m an open book for you. You know that, right?”

Eddie blushes. “Yeah, I know. I have a couple things I wanna talk about before anything happens, but we can do all that later. Thank you, honey.”

Steve cocks his head. “What for?”

“For being so nice to me. I don’t think I said it enough the first time, but you’re a great boyfriend.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blush. “Well, thank you baby. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Eddie kisses the tip of his nose, nipping at it once he’s done. “I’m glad you think so. I gotta get up, I’m old now, I can’t stay in one position too long.”

Steve isn’t even finished snickering before there’s a throw pillow chucked at his face.

–

He’s at Eddie and Zoe’s place more often than not for dinner. In fact, he’s spent most of the summer in Eddie and Zoe’s apartment. He usually just drives to Eddie’s place after work, even though it’s a hefty commute from his office in Indianapolis. Steve doesn’t mind at all though, he’d rather spend a little extra gas money than not see Eddie and Zoe.

He uses his spare key to open the door, and finds sheer chaos.

Dinner’s on the stove, definitely burning, and Eddie and Zoe are arguing in the living room. Eddie is most definitely losing. Steve turns off the stove, walking quietly so he doesn’t scare either of them, and then peeks into the living room to see what’s going on.

Zoe is standing in front of her Dream House, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, and her usually happy little face is set in stone.

Eddie has both hands on his hips, one hip cocked to the right. He used to make fun of Steve all the time for the ‘mom pose’, so it’s funny to see it now, but Steve doesn’t dare laugh. He stays quiet, hidden from view.

“Zoe, honey, I told you you can keep playing with your Barbies after dinner. Now put your eyebrows up.”

Zoe puts her eyebrows down even further, just to prove a point.

Eddie scrubs his hands over his face. “Why did I have to make a tiny clone of myself, Jesus Christ,” he whispers to himself, then rallies, taking a deep breath.

“Zoe. It’s dinner time. We’re gonna sit at the table and have dinner, and then you can come right back to your dolls. If you decide to make a stink about it, we’re eating dinner and then just going to bed. Either way, we are eating dinner.”

Good for Eddie, Steve thinks.

“No! I wanna play Barbies!” Zoe’s about two seconds from a meltdown and it shows, her stony face red and arms still crossed.

“You’ve been playing for two hours, Zo. I know you’re hungry, and it’s dinnertime, you know this.”

using routine, nice.

“I don’t care about dinner!” She’s shrieking at this point, and Steve winces.

“Zoe Alice Munson, what have I told you about using your inside voice?”

Then she comes out with a zinger. “Screw you!”

Eddie is very clearly shell-shocked, because he just. Stands there. Then Steve sees his head tilt to the side like it does when he’s really ticked off about something.

“I don’t even know where you learned that, but you’re not going to use it to be mean to me, alright? You can be as mad as you want, but you will not be mean. We don’t do that, Zoe.”

Zoe flings herself to the ground and sobs, her red face getting redder and puffier, kicking her legs and flinging her arms with reckless abandon. When Steve sees Eddie drop into a crouch and cup his face in his hands, he steps in.

He crouches next to Eddie, softly touching his shoulder so he doesn’t startle him. “Why don’t we take a breather, okay?” He says it gently, not a lot of inflection in his tone, just in case Eddie takes something from it that isn’t there.

Eddie chokes on a sob, nodding and standing up. Zoe’s still kicking and screaming, but Steve will come back for her in a second. He walks Eddie down the hall into his room and sits him down on his bed, rubbing his shoulder. Eddie still has his face in his hands, eyes covered, and he won’t look at Steve.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, that was really fucking embarrassing. I usually handle that a lot better, I promise.” There’s tears leaking out of his hands, and Steve wipes away what he can.

“You did good, honey.”

Eddie scoffs. “If I had done good, she’d be eating right now instead of having a huge meltdown on the living room floor, and my hot boyfriend wouldn’t have had to witness it.”

“You did just fine, Eds. You set clear expectations, solid boundaries, and reminded her of her routine. You played it by the book, kids are just… fickle, sometimes.”

Eddie takes a breath and removes his hands from his face. It’s actually ridiculous that he’s still gorgeous after sobbing, but Steve has to stay focused.

“My five year old just said screw you to my face.” He says it with awe in his voice, and Steve thinks it’s safer to chuckle now, so he does.

“That she did. Used it appropriately, too.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus, she did, didn’t she? That was such a good use of a ‘screw you’, holy shit.”

They giggle about that for a moment, then Eddie takes another deep breath and drops his head so his face is pressed into Steve’s chest. He’s not the best at hint-taking, but he knows what to do here, so he pets Eddie’s hair and sways them back and forth gently.

Eddie hums, pressing a small kiss to Steve’s sternum. “I hate to ask, but-”

“I got her, baby, don’t worry. Lay down for a second, and I’ll see how she’s doing, alright?”

Eddie nods into his chest, turning his head and laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve says, and ventures into the living room.

Zoe’s still crying, little snuffles and hiccups, but she isn’t kicking anymore. Instead of righteous and pissed off she’s just worn out, and it makes Steve’s heart ache. She sits up when she hears Steve step into the room, and her lower lip wobbles.

“Does daddy hate me?”

Steve shakes his head immediately, and sits down on the floor next to her. “Your dad loves you more than anything, sweetheart. You guys just got mad at each other for a bit. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Steve feels when his counselor training kicks in, reassure, re-state the situation, offer opportunity for communication happening before he can register it.

Zoe shakes her head, looking at the ground for a second until she looks back up at Steve, tentative. He isn’t exactly sure what she’s looking for, but he knows she finds it when she crawls into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck, tucking her head into his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around her, holding her close to him without a second thought, hugging her.

“You’re alright, Zoe. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

She sniffles into his shoulder, and he rocks her back and forth and pets her hair, like he just did for Eddie. He figures genetics have to mean something, and it calms her right down. In fact, he’s almost sure she’s asleep until she says, “Stevie?”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“I’m hungry.”

Steve laughs, careful not to disturb her comfy position. “How’s about a PB&J? We can make one for your dad too, and then we’ll go and see him.”

She nods into his shoulder, content in her spot, and he figures out a way to get himself off the floor without disturbing her.

He takes her into the kitchen, setting her down on what he calls ‘The Zoe Counter’, the one furthest from the stove, and gathering the ingredients to make the finest PB&J’s he will ever make. He knows where things are in the kitchen now, so he locates the peanut butter and strawberry jam easily. The bread is in the drawer under Zoe’s counter, so he politely asks her to pick her legs up so he can grab it. He sets up a station on the counter next to hers, making the sandwiches on a paper towel so he doesn’t have to get out a cutting board.

“Crusts off, please.”

Steve nods, says, “yes, ma’am,” and cuts the crusts off of both Eddie and Zoe’s sandwich. Eddie claims he’s fine with the crusts, but Steve knows he just picks them off anyways because it’s too dry. He sets the sandwiches, one for himself as well, on a plate and grabs a handful of blueberries to put on the plate, telling himself he’ll come back for water after they’re settled.

He scoops Zoe up with one arm and grabs the plate with his other hand, and walks down the hallway.

“What if he’s still mad?” Zoe whispers.

“He’s not still mad, just sad that you guys yelled at each other.” Steve gives her a little smooch on the cheek for good measure before knocking on Eddie’s door.

“I have a visitor for you,” he says, opening the door by crouching and using the hand that’s attached to the arm supporting Zoe. It’s a miracle he doesn’t fall flat on his ass.

As soon as the door opens Eddie’s on his feet, making grabby hands for Zoe.

“Hold your horses, please, I gotta put this plate down.” Steve sets the sandwich plate on the nightstand and deposits Zoe into Eddie’s arms, very smoothly if he says so himself.

“I’m sorry we yelled at each other, daddy.” The puppy-dog eyes she gives him are wide and genuine.

He tears up again, somehow, and smooths his hand over her hair, pressing her close to his chest.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

They hold each other for a while, Eddie’s eyes closed and rocking them from side to side. Steve slips out of the room quietly, going to get some stuff in order.

He starts with the pan on the stove, a three-quarters of the way burnt pasta concoction, scooping it into a container and putting it in the fridge in case Eddie wants to put an egg on it and call it breakfast. The pan is put in the sink to soak for a minute before being thoroughly scrubbed and put away in the cupboard under the microwave. He does the other dishes; a mug, a couple plates, two forks, and sets them on the drying rack before moving on to the living room.

It is, gently put, a hot mess.

There’s Barbies everywhere, and the Dream House takes up most of the living room. Steve hadn’t even noticed when he came in that the TV was on, but it still is, so he turns it off. He folds up the Dream House, placing it against the half-wall that separates the kitchen and living room. There’s a pink tote next to Zoe’s bean bag chair labeled Barbies in Eddie’s messy handwriting, so he collects the oodles of dolls on the floor and places them in there, popping any loose doll clothes and shoes in there as well.

Once the living room is tidy, he ducks back into the bedroom and finds Eddie and Zoe happily munching on their sandwiches, having already decimated the blueberries. Eddie pats the spot next to him, holding out the plate.

“Eat your sandwich, Stevie.”

Steve smiles at them both, taking his spot next to Eddie and grabbing his PB&J. Once Zoe’s done with hers, she crawls up to the pillows and falls face-first into them. Eddie sighs fondly and shakes his head. “Guess she’s sleeping in her overalls.”

Steve smiles, mid-chew. Once he swallows he asks, “you okay?”

“Doing better, yeah. I’m just exhausted now.”

Steve switches what’s left of his sandwich to one hand, using the other one to rub Eddie’s back. He melts into the touch, his head collapsing onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Wish you could stay over.” It’s a small, quiet admission, but it lights Steve’s heart up anyway.

“Me too, babe. We both have work in the morning though, because we’re boring adults now, and we have a tendency to over-sleep when we snuggle.”

Eddie nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder even more. “I know, I know.” He sighs before speaking again. “Thank you for helping tonight. And making the world’s best PB&J’s.”

Steve kisses the top of his head. “Of course, sweetheart. Oh, and thanks for calling me hot earlier.”

It was supposed to make Eddie laugh, and it was successful. He snorts his laughter through his nose, breath warm against Steve’s shoulder. “I wish I could’ve been hot too, instead of a snotty, crying mess.”

Steve gently bats at Eddie’s shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re always gorgeous. Now put some pajamas on and get some sleep.”

Eddie lifts himself off of Steve’s shoulder, going to the dresser and retrieving the pajama pants that Steve is pretty sure were his at one point. Steve grabs the plate and clicks the door shut, going to the kitchen to wash and put it away. He’s drying it off when he hears the door open and shut again.

“Steve, you didn’t have to clean.” Eddie sounds exhausted again.

Steve sets the plate on the counter next to the sink, turning towards Eddie. “It’s not a big deal, baby. It took me like, maybe ten minutes.”

Eddie comes over to him and plops his head down on Steve’s shoulder again. “I know. You’re too nice.”

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, who’s warm and cozy in his PJ’s. “I’m nice to you and Zo because I want to be. I…I love you both. Very much.”

He had a much more detailed, planned-out way to do this, tell Eddie he loves him for the second time. There were definitely candles and roses involved. But now, in the dim yellow light of the kitchen after a rough night, with Eddie sweet and soft against his shoulder, Steve thinks the plan was garbage anyway.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s middle and squeezes. “We love you, too. I always have, and Zoe adores you, Steve. She’s never taken to a new person so fast, and I saw the way she was letting you hold her. We love you. God, we love you so much, honey.”

Steve pulls Eddie’s head off of his shoulder so they’re looking at each other, and strokes Eddie’s cheeks with his thumbs, cradling his jaw in his hands. He presses sweet little kisses all over his face, just to make him giggle. Steve ends with a gentle kiss on the lips, just long enough to be meaningful, but not go anywhere else.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart.” He smiles at Eddie, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Eddie nods. “I will. Get home safe, okay? Watch for deer.”

The classic Midwestern ‘I love you’ warms Steve’s heart. “I always do, don’t worry. I’ll call you after work tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you again, honey.”

Steve kisses him again, just because he can. “Of course. Goodnight, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

–

Steve has settled in at the new office quite well, he thinks.

His new boss seems to really like him, stopping by his office to shoot the shit about sports stats and things of that nature. He’s made a few friends, his favorite being Donna, a lovely middle-aged woman he trades recipes with all the time. Just today he left a handwritten spinach dip recipe in her mailbox.

The higher-ups were genuinely impressed with his work in Minnesota, and he was promoted to senior counseling staff as soon as he got to the Indiana office. He got two groups of kids instead of just one, his workload doubling overnight. He didn’t mind, though, not really. He’s reminded every day of why he does what he does, sending kids back out into the world with a snack and healthy coping mechanisms. Today, he’s just finishing up his notes from his last session when his boss peaks his head into Steve’s office.

“Hey, Steve, how are ya?”

Steve looks up, glasses sliding down his nose. “Oh, hey Alan. I’m good, just finishing up some notes. How are you?” He readjusts his glasses and makes sure to smile.

“Good, good. Do you think you have time to talk before you head out for the day?”

Steve peeks at the clock, it’s 4:15. “Yeah, I should have plenty of time. Everything alright?”

Alan nods. “Oh, everything’s more than alright. Come see me in my office when you’re done.” He smacks the doorframe once before dipping out of the doorway.

Steve squints, wondering what this could be about. His own anxiety starts to kick up, and he uses the tools he gives the kids to help him out. One: take a deep breath. He does so, and it clears his head a bit, helping him focus. Two: find the facts. Alan had said everything was ‘more than alright’, so Steve couldn’t be getting fired, especially not with school starting soon. With the school year usually comes an influx of kids struggling with different learning disabilities, which Steve could relate to. His ADHD, not to mention the countless head traumas, had made school a nightmare for him when he was young, only barely managing to graduate high school.

He slips his suit jacket back on, straightens his tie, and makes his way to Alan’s office, waving to the coworkers who say hello to him as he walks. When he finally comes to the heavy wooden doors that indicate Alan’s office, they’re already open.

“Ah, Steve! C’mon in.”

Alan’s at his desk, and there’s two women he recognizes from the Hawkins school district system on the loveseat next to the desk. Hmm. He smiles politely at everyone and takes a seat in one of the chairs across from the desk, Alan’s secretary closing the doors behind him.

“Steve, I’ve gotta tell ya, I’m incredibly impressed with the work you’ve done so far. Your progress reports are phenomenal, and the follow-ups parents send in when the children graduate from the program are glowing. You’re doing a fantastic job, Steve.”

A small blush creeps onto his cheeks, and he nods. “Thank you very much, I really appreciate that.” He thinks about the thank-you notes from parents and kids alike proudly displayed in his office and smiles to himself.

“No need to be bashful, Steve, you’re a wonderful counselor. I’m sure you’ve met Renee and Joy from the Hawkins school district. You’re from Hawkins, correct?”

Steve nods. “That would be correct.”

“Then I’m sure you know everyone there has been through quite a lot.”

Alan has no idea how much Steve knows about what Hawkins has gone through.

“Yes sir, I do.”

Alan shakes his head. “So sad. In any case, the counseling staff at the school is completely overwhelmed, so they reached out to us. We’re sending our best and brightest to Hawkins elementary, middle, and high school. Since most of your clients are elementary students, we recommended you for the elementary position.”

Steve blinks several times. Working in Hawkins after all this time doesn’t sound incredibly appealing, but Alan recommended him because he’s good at what he does. He knows he can help the kids, especially with school strategies, but he doesn’t know if the staff will be especially welcoming to Steve Harrington’s return.

But the staff doesn’t matter as much as the kids do. There’s a new principal, and he’s sure some of his teachers have retired by now. Plus it would cut his commute right in half, and he’d be a lot closer to Eddie and Zoe.

“I would love that. How would it work, exactly?”

Alan claps his hands together excitedly. “I knew we could count on you, Steve! Let’s go over some details.”

–

“...so basically, someone from the office in Indy will come get my progress reports and notes and shit at the end of the week, and I can just report to the school every day. Alan will call me by the end of the day every Friday with any updates or whatever, and we’ll have a monthly meeting at the Indy office.”

When Steve or Eddie can’t make dinner together happen, they always call. Tonight, Steve was just plain tired, loosening his tie and unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt before grabbing leftovers out of the fridge to eat while he talked to Eddie about his day. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, next to the end table the phone is on. Robin got him a novelty phone shaped like a pair of red lips for his birthday, and he uses it for every call.

“Huh. Well, that’s an interesting setup for sure. How do you feel about working at the school you went to?”

Steve scratches his head. “Uh, not fantastic, to be honest. Obviously I was kind of a menace in school and I don’t want that to overpower what I do, ya know? But the kids are what matters the most, and giving back to my hometown will look nice on the ol’ resume.”

He can practically hear Eddie’s eye-roll. “Steve, you almost died for this podunk-ass town four times. Four times in a row, actually. I think you’ve given plenty.”

“I know,” Steve sighs. “Alan said something about ‘well you’re from Hawkins, you know what they’ve been through’ and I wanted to scream. Like yeah, motherfucker, I know what they’ve been through, why do you think I wear glasses and a hearing aid like a seventy year old man?”

Steve scrubs a hand over his face and sets his now lukewarm leftovers to the side.

“Excuse me, I will have no hearing aid or glasses slander. Not only do you look very cute in your glasses, your hearing aid is very important. How else would you hear me wax poetic about Lord of the Rings?”

Steve laughs out loud at that, loud and brash in his little apartment. “You’re right, I don’t know if I could survive without listening to you talk about how gay Sam and Fro-yo are.”

“Frodo, Steve.”

Steve snorts. “I know, you big nerd.”

“Big nerd you’re in love with.”

If Steve closes his eyes he can see Eddie’s confident, sweet smile. “God help me, I really am.”

Eddie snorts. “You don’t even believe in god, you doofus.”

“Because what kind of psychopath god would create a Demogorgon? That makes no sense, and you know it.” Generational Catholic guilt be damned, Steve hasn’t believed in god in a very long time.

“I do know it.” There’s a pause, and Steve knows Eddie’s hesitating to ask something.

“Spit it out, baby.”

“Ew, how do you know me so well?”

Steve rolls his eyes, fond. “I said spit it out.”

“You’re not gonna like… psychoanalyze my kid, are you?”

Honestly, Steve hadn’t even thought about Zoe being in Kindergarten come September.

“No, not at all, I promise. It’d probably be a conflict of interest to see her as a client, anyway.”

“Conflict of interest?”

Steve nods, even though he knows Eddie can’t see it. “I mean, yeah, she’s my boyfriend’s daughter. I can’t go playing favorites.”

“And we all know she’s your favorite.”

There’s not a doubt in the world that Zoe is Steve’s favorite kid, ever. “Oh, absolutely.”

“Well listen, if any of the teachers give you trouble, just tell them I’ll whoop their asses.”

Steve cackles. “Pretty sure I’d be immediately fired, but I appreciate the offer, sweetheart.”

“Anytime. Oh, before I forget, do you think it’d be a conflict of whatever if I put you as one of Zoe’s emergency contacts?”

Steve’s already huge heart grows three sizes. “You want me to be on the contact sheet for Zo?”

“Of course. If they can’t get a hold of me or Wayne, and something happens, I want her to have someone she’s comfortable with to be there for her. I wasn’t kidding when I said she loves you, honey.”

Steve almost starts crying, but just barely holds it together.

When he first learned Zoe existed at all, he was too flabbergasted to even think about what she would be like. He just stood stunned in the middle of an Ancient Greece exhibit and tried to wrap his head around Eddie having a child. There were more important questions to ask than “hey who’s her favorite of the Wiggles?”

(It’s Jeff, the purple one.)

But now, eight months later, Steve knows her. He knows her favorite colors, and how she likes to wear her hair. He knows that she loves pineapple on pizza, and the Addams Family, and she’s afraid of birds. Her favorite animal is a capybara, just like Mr. Pringles, who she can’t sleep without. He knows she’s social when she wants to be but she’s most comfortable around her favorite people, just like her dad.

To know Zoe truly is to love her, and Steve counts his lucky stars every day that she and Eddie let him into that privilege.

“I love her, too. I know it’s sappy and ridiculous, but I feel really lucky that I get to love you both.”

“Stevie, don’t make me cry, oh my god honey.”

Steve smiles into the receiver, eyes going misty. “We can change the subject if you want, but my official answer is yes, I will absolutely be on her contact sheet.”

“Good. Are you gonna be at meet the staff night next week?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, I’m going in tomorrow to settle into my office and get some stuff printed for that. They want us to hand out children’s mental health pamphlets and coloring pages, as if anyone’s gonna read them.”

Eddie snorts. “No one looks at that shit dude. If you want an audience, give out free pens. Or snacks, everybody loves snacks.”

Steve flings one arm out, subsequently sending his fork flying across the living room. “That’s what I tried to tell them, but no, they want us to decorate a table and slap some shitty pamphlets on there and call it a day.”

“Sounds like you need to fight the man, honey bun.”

It’s Steve’s turn to snort. “Unfortunately, the man is employing me so I can assist the youth of America and also pay rent.”

“Booooo, capitalism!”

Steve laughs, loud and long with his mouth wide open and it turns into a yawn. “Eddie, I’m old.”

“Pot, meet kettle. We’re both decrepit, babe.”

“Rude, but true. I’m gonna put my jammies on and watch Golden Girls reruns until I’m about to pass out. Tell Zoe goodnight for me, please.”

Eddie huffs. “That little stinker got me distracted. Zoe! Get your teeth brushed, butthead! Don’t call anyone that, by the way!”

Steve holds the phone away from his ear until Eddie’s done hollering. “Inside voice please, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a fart noise at Steve. “Yeah, yeah, you know I’m no good at that. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner? We’re having mac and cheese.”

“That sounds delightful. Goodnight, sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you, honey.”

“I love you too.”

—

Steve meets the new principal the next morning, a very nice woman named Ava Gomez. She shows him around even though he went here, and he lets her. He’s had too many knocks on the head to remember everything, much less the layout of a building he hasn’t been in since he was eleven.

He recognizes some of the names on the classroom doors, and it ticks up his anxiety a bit. He knows he’s changed a lot since he’s been here, grown into his skin and become a good man, but the fact of the matter is not everyone will think that. Steve’s still in the process of learning that that’s okay.

He’s finally led to his office, which is small and sort of cramped, but it’ll do. He wonders aloud if he could ditch the chairs in the room for bean bags and Ava nods.

“Absolutely. I’ll move them into the library for now, and we’ll see about getting a couple bean bags.”

“Thank you so much.”

She smiles warmly at him. “Of course. You do have a next door office neighbor, so you have an adjoining supply closet, which might be a bit awkward at first.”

Steve tries to put on his best polite smile. “It should be just fine.” He sets his small box of things on the desk and begins to sort through them, determining what is decorative versus what’s necessary.

“If you have any questions, I’ll be doing my own office organization, please feel free to chat anytime.”

“Thanks, Ms. Gomez.”

“Steve, it’s Ava.” She smiles so he knows she isn’t irritated, and then leaves him to it.

He sets up his desk and bookshelf, a few notebooks and a lava lamp on one of the shelves. His dinosaur decals for the walls go up easily, along with the emotions chart on the back of the door. He sets a small framed photo of Eddie and Zoe next to his notepad, one of Dustin on the bookshelf, and one of Robin next to his succulent he keeps in the right hand corner of his desk.

He’s fussing with the little figurines on his bookshelf when there’s a knock on his door.

“Hi, office neighbor! I just wanted to introduce myself, and… oh my gosh, Steve?”

Well. Fuck.

He grimaces to himself before plastering a smile on his face and turning around.

“Hey, Heidi, how are you?”

She smiles and leans further into his doorway, cleavage very much visible. “I’m good, yeah. I didn’t know you had been to school or anything!”

Yeah, it’s almost like he peeled out of this town as soon as he could. Also, did she just call him stupid?

“Yeah, I lived in Minnesota for awhile, and now I’m working with Young and Associates, so.”

It’s the best job in counseling available, and he knows it. Heidi knows it too, judging by the way her cheeks pale.

“Oh! Well, congratulations, that’s awesome.” She leans in a little further into his office, looking around. He catches her ogling him and subtly rolls his eyes.

“If you ever wanna get a drink or anything, let me know,” she says, and then ducks out of the door.

Steve just sighs and heads to the printer.

—

“So… let me get this straight,” Eddie says, holding his fork mid-air. His homemade mac and cheese is delicious, all of them shoveling it down while Steve chats about his day. “She flirted with you, called you stupid, and then flirted with you again?”

Steve wrinkles his nose up, stabbing one of his crispy potatoes with his fork. “Exactly. I got to shove my job in her face, though.”

Luckily Zoe isn’t paying too much attention, otherwise he’d have to amend his sentence by saying something about how that’s not nice or whatever.

Eddie does not look happy.

“Eddie. What’s goin on, babe?”

Eddie spears some macaroni on his fork and shoves it in his mouth, biding time. When he’s done chewing, he sighs. “I don’t like people flirting with you.” He stirs his mac and cheese around in his bowl before adding, “mine.”

Jesus Christ, Steve, do not pop a boner at the dinner table, he thinks to himself. He flexes his thigh to distract himself, and reaches over to squeeze Eddie’s hand.

“Yours, you’re right. The whole thing made me so uncomfortable, I got itchy.” It’s true, he wanted to crawl out of his skin after being openly eye-fucked by a teenage fling turned coworker.

Eddie brings Steve’s hand up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “I also don’t like that she made you uncomfortable like that.”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, me neither, but I can deal with it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, though. If it keeps up and you’re uncomfortable, you should tell Ava or something. She seems nice enough.”

Steve smiles placatingly at Eddie, who still looks perturbed. “I promise if it gets to super gross levels I’ll let Ava know.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand and leans across the table to kiss him. “Good. Finish your dinner and then we can snuggle up under a blanket.”

It’s Friday, Steve could spend the night if he wanted to. He must be staring into space, because Eddie sets his hand on Steve’s thigh to bring him back to reality.

“I can see your brain moving, you know. You’re more than welcome to stay over.”

Zoe’s head pops up at that. “Are we having a slumber party?”

Steve smiles at her and ruffles her hair. “We absolutely are, Zo. Do you wanna pick the movie?”

She nods, getting up to put her bowl in the sink. “Yes, please.”

Eddie smiles at them both, putting the leftovers in the fridge and the dishes in the sink. “You know she’s just gonna pick Hercules again.”

Steve rinses the dishes before giving Eddie a peck on the cheek. “Maybe I was counting on being able to do karaoke with my favorite girl.”

Eddie beams. “I’ll write the apology letters to the neighbors now.”

Steve swats him with a dish towel, pinching Eddie’s hip as he moves past him to get pajamas from his bedroom.

—

They don’t even make it halfway through the movie before Zoe’s completely conked out. Her head is tipped back against Steve’s chest. Eddie has Steve in his lap, and Steve has Zoe cradled against his chest.

Steve pokes Eddie, who looks down to see Zoe snoring with her mouth wide open.

“I don’t wanna wake her up,” Steve whispers.

“Don’t worry, she’s out cold. Do you want me to take her?” Eddie’s looking down at the two of them with the softest, most lovesick look on his face.

“I can get her to bed if that’s okay with you.” Steve would never want to cross any lines, so he always asks.

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “Of course that’s okay, baby. Don’t be too long, I’ll get cold.”

Steve leans his head back and Eddie catches his mouth in a sweet kiss before he carefully gets up. Zoe doesn’t stir at all, snoring softly into Steve’s (Eddie’s) shirt. The door to her room is open already thankfully, so he can scoot right in and gently place her in her bed.

He tucks her in just like Eddie does, just tight enough and right up to her shoulders, and makes sure Mr. Pringles is under her arm. He leans down to kiss her on the head when she stirs the slightest bit.

She smiles up at Steve, snuggling down into her covers. “G’night, Stevie. Love you.”

His heart is surely going to explode. “Goodnight sweetie pie. Love you too. Have good dreams.” He kisses her on the forehead and smooths her hair, smiling at her again before closing her door quietly and making his way back to the living room.

Eddie looks just as cute snuggled up under his own blanket, mouthing the words to ‘I won’t say I’m in love.’

Steve pulls the blanket back and plunks himself on top of Eddie, chest to chest. He makes himself nice and cozy, kissing Eddie’s chest where his head rests.

“Hi, honey,” Eddie says, tangling his hand in Steve’s hair.

“Hi. I love you.”

It’s so nice to be able to say it out loud, not keep it deep in his heart like a secret he couldn’t even admit to himself. Eddie smiles down at him, soft and sweet.

“I love you too. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot.”

Steve wiggles up so he’s level with Eddie’s face. His sweet, honest, handsome face.

Steve’s got it bad.

He knows now that he’s fully in free fall. There’s no foot holds, no hesitation, his body flying through the air with no remorse. He leans forward and finds Eddie meeting him halfway, immediately opening his mouth to let Steve lick his way inside.

Steve missed so much about Eddie; his laugh, his dramatics, the way he made everything make sense. But he thinks he might have missed Eddie’s mouth the most. Where Steve pushes, moving his head forward and tilting his chin in toward him, Eddie pulls, making Steve work for it. He nips at Steve’s lips, drinking in the groans and letting him explore the depths of his mouth with his tongue.

Steve shifts so he’s bracketing Eddie into the couch, palms resting on the cushion while he focuses on the sweet moans coming out of Eddie’s mouth.

“My sweetheart,” Steve moans, speaking directly into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whimpers, high in his throat, and rolls his hips up against Steve’s.

Steve gives a gentle roll of his hips down and finds Eddie hard and warm under him.

“Steve,” he says, moving his hips with certainty now, grinding into Steve’s crotch and blushing.

“Feel good, baby?”

Eddie nods fiercely, moaning when his dick lines up with Steve’s perfectly. Steve kisses Eddie again, biting down on his bottom lip like he remembers he likes.

“Fuck, Steve, please touch me. Please?”

As if he could ever tell Eddie no. He looks down at Eddie, and his eyes are huge and pleading.

“It’d probably be easier in bed, sweetheart.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Want it now, please just touch me, honey.”

Steve might be going lightheaded from how fast he’s getting hard. Eddie’s wearing his spit like fucking lip gloss and begging Steve to touch him because they both got achingly hard from making out a little. Because they love each other.

Fuck.

He lays back down on Eddie like he’s a bed, shifting himself to the left just a bit so he can lay his palm over Eddie.

“Yes, please please please, fuck that feels so good.” He rolls his hips up into Steve’s touch, staining the front of his gray sweatpants from how wet he’s getting. Steve looks down at the wet patch and smiles.

“That all for me, baby? You’re too sweet,” he says, inching his pinky finger under the waistband of the sweats.

“All for you, always. Fuck, you’re so warm.” Eddie snuggles his face into Steve’s shoulder.

“Can I pull these down, please?”

Eddie shoves his sweats and his underwear down his thighs immediately, and Steve pouts.

“Hey, I wanted to do that.”

Eddie kisses his pouty lips, drawing it out like they haven’t had time to do lately. “Want you, Stevie. Want you so bad.”

Steve smiles into the kiss, looking down at Eddie’s dick. It always was pretty, a lovely shade of pink at the head with a slight curve to the left. He remembers how it felt in his mouth, heavy and kind of salty and everything he’s ever wanted, and feels his mouth water. He’ll have to save that for later though, because Eddie’s grinding up into his hand again.

He takes his hand away and Eddie whines, Steve slapping the same hand over his mouth. Eddie takes a big breath in through his nose like he wants to smell himself on Steve’s skin, and it makes Steve’s dick throb.

“Shit,” he hisses, “gotta be quieter, baby. I want to make you feel good, but you gotta be quiet, okay?”

Eddie nods into his hand, which Steve removes from his mouth, cupping it under his lips instead. “Spit, please.”

Eddie nods, closing his mouth and working his cheeks until he opens his lips and a puddle of spit lands in Steve’s palm.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, carefully moving his hand back to Eddie’s dick and starting a slow stroke upwards.

Eddie moans, a long, drawn out “fuck”, that comes from deep in his chest. Steve burns that into his memory, ignoring the way he’s leaking into his pajamas. He just needs to make Eddie feel good.

He picks up the pace, moving his thumb so it grazes over that sensitive little spot under the head and makes Eddie shiver.

“Fuck, Steve, oh my god.” He has his hands in his own hair and Steve pulls one of them down to rest in his.

“Can I pull?” Eddie asks, reedy and desperate. He always has to be doing something with his hands, no matter what.

“Yeah, baby, that’s fine. C’mere and give me a kiss, please.” Steve keeps the same pace with his hand while Eddie pulls his hair into his fist, trying and failing to be completely silent.

“You can make a little bit of noise, sweetheart, just not a whole lot like I know you can,” Steve says into his lips. Eddie kisses him like he’s starving for it, and Steve grinds his hips down onto Eddie’s warm thigh.

“Not gonna last much longer if you keep talking so nice to me.” Eddie looks like he means it, breathing unsteady and red in the face.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna hear about how much I missed seeing you like this? You don’t wanna know that when my ex couldn’t finish me off, I’d just think about your pretty fingers and how you’d look at me and I’d shoot off in two minutes flat? Hmm?”

Steve knows how to fight dirty too.

“Steve, Steve fuck, you’re gonna make me come honey, keep talking.”

“You’re so pretty like this, all red in the face and asking me so nicely to touch you. Missed your sweet face so much, baby, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Steve’s rambling, but he gets the point across.

“Gonna come, Stevie, feels so good.” Eddie sounds fucked-out and drowsy like he did after he would fuck Steve into the mattress all that time ago.

Steve tucks his head into Eddie’s neck, mouthing at him. “You can come whenever you want to, pretty baby, okay? Such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Steve pulls Eddie’s shirt up so he doesn’t make a big mess, and as soon as he shoves the fabric into his mouth Eddie spills all over his stomach. He moans into the fabric, drooling on it and scrunching his eyebrows together, dropping his chin to his chest.

He works Eddie through it, makes him shiver and groan until he shoves Steve’s hand away, spitting out his shirt. “Too much, honey.”

Steve smiles and swipes a finger through the mess on his tummy, slipping the tip of his finger into his mouth. The texture was never Steve’s favorite thing, but the taste always drove him nuts. Eddie pulls on the back of his head by his hair to bring him back into the moment.

“Thank you, sweetheart, that felt really fucking good.” He lets go of Steve’s hair and Steve whines, loud enough that he has to cut himself off.

“How do you feel, Stevie? Do you want me to touch you, or you want me to watch?”

Steve squints. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll probably end up putting words in Eddie’s mouth that would never be there.

“Um… I-”

Eddie knows something is up, because of course he does. He smooths over Steve’s face with his hands, stopping to cup his jaw. “What’s up, honey? You don’t look happy.”

He isn’t happy, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Fact of the matter is, Steve enjoys being useful, in bed and in most areas of his life. He’s always been afraid that once the use runs out, he won’t be wanted anymore. Eddie asking Steve if he wanted to be touched or watched set off a spiral in his head, and he isn’t quite sure how to verbalize it.

He takes a shaky breath in, and Eddie gently sits him up on the couch, back against the armrest, with too much space in between them. Steve starts to panic in earnest when he gets off the couch, but he’s just pulling up his sweatpants and wiping off the mess with a tissue.

Eddie takes a seat, crisscross applesauce in front of Steve, their knees touching. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, you don’t have to. I just need to know how I can help.”

Steve squeezes his eyes closed and swallows around the lump in his throat. “You… you do want me, right? Like, I’m not just good until you finish?”

Eddie takes his hands and he looks very, very sad all of a sudden. “Steve. I want you all the time. I meant to talk to you about this sooner, but I wanted you to know before we did anything physical that I’m not just in it for that. I’m in it for you.”

A few tears slip down Steve’s cheeks and he’s as embarrassed as can be. “M’ sorry,” he whispers, and Eddie shakes his head.

“No apologies necessary, okay? I asked if you wanted me to watch because I remembered you used to like that, not because I didn’t want to touch you. Shit, Steve, I want my hands on you all the time. I was thinking about your ass at the gas station the other day, for god’s sake.”

Steve laughs, a soft one just under his breath. Eddie smiles and leans forward to kiss his forehead, always sweet to him. Steve finds himself wondering how he got so lucky all the time.

He remembers that Eddie’s safe, he’s kind, and he’s not going to vanish in thin air, and then he’s very honest with him.

“I used to have you watch me because I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable enough to let you help me.”

Eddie looks heartbroken, and then incredibly confused. “Steve, honey, you bottomed, like… a lot. Like, most of the time we were together.”

Aah yes, that.

“I knew you liked being on top, and I wanted to be useful. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, you were very good to me, but. Yeah. The usefulness complex is… something else.”

He started staring at a very particular thread on the couch cushion when he started his sentence and he hasn’t stopped, even with Eddie squeezing his hands to get his attention.

“Honey, please look at me. Please?”

Against his better judgment, Steve looks up.

“I’m not upset with you, you know that right?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, good. Steve, you’re enough for me. You’re more than enough for me, and you don’t have to prove yourself when we’re in bed, or anywhere else. You don’t have to be useful, you can just be. If being useful is something you like in bed, we can talk about it and see how it works for us, but I don’t want you to think that goes any further than sex. You’re wonderful, all on your own, and I want you to feel like it.”

The tears are coming out steadily now, and Eddie keeps up with wiping them away.

Steve knows he’s lost whatever excitement he had earlier, but he still feels around just to make sure. Sure enough, no boner for him.

“My anxiety kinda cockblocked you, I’m sorry.”

Eddie pulls their joined hands to his mouth, kissing over every single one of Steve’s knuckles. “You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. If you want, we can shower in the morning and I’ll get you off then, but why don’t we get some sleep?”

Steve nods, wrung out. Eddie gets up and pulls Steve off the couch and into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around Steve’s back. Steve just melts into it, lets his body go, he knows Eddie’s got him. They sway back and forth in the low light of the living room, Steve’s tears drying on Eddie’s shirt.

They both come away from each other at the same time, neither of them going very far. Eddie wraps one arm around Steve’s shoulder and leads them into his room. Steve wants to plop face-first onto the bed, but Eddie just gently sits him down at the foot of the bed and rummages around the room for a minute or two. When he’s done, he puts a clean t-shirt and underwear next to Steve, and starts changing into clean clothes himself.

Steve just watches him for a moment, taking in the way his body moves. He’s so beautiful, hair tumbling down his shoulders, silvered scars on display without a care in the world. He must feel Steve staring, because he pulls clean underwear on and turns to look at him, blushing.

“Put your PJ’s on and quit staring, honey. I wanna snuggle sooner rather than later.”

Steve nods, getting up and depositing the pajama pants he’d changed into when he got here into the hamper. He doesn’t bother with new ones, doesn’t want to go through even more of Eddie’s clothes, and he slips a worn red shirt over his head. Eddie’s already got his teeth brushed by the time Steve’s done, and he crawls under the covers, rubbing his legs together like a cricket.

“C’mere, cutie. Wanna be big spoon.”

Steve finally cracks a smile, and Eddie beams as he pulls back the covers just enough for Steve to climb in and settle in beside him, cradled and comfortable.

“You’re a human furnace, Steve, holy shit,” Eddie says, laughing under his breath.

Steve doesn’t say anything, already taking much longer blinks.

In Minnesota, his insomnia had come back with a vengeance, keeping him up until all hours of the night. He couldn’t sleep worth a shit, always tossing and turning and pissing Sam off until he felt so bad he just went to sit on the couch and stare out the window till morning. But now, with Eddie breathing softly on his shoulder, holding him, loving him, he falls asleep easily.

–

The morning seems like it comes too quickly, Steve waking up to the sun beating in the window. He groans, stretching out, and feels around for Eddie. He finds the other side of the bed cold, and his heart sinks. Was he really that restless of a sleeper? And if he was, why didn’t Eddie just kick him out to the couch? He sighs and rubs the crusties out of his eyes. Then he smells french toast, and his whole morning changes.

He whips the covers back, shivering at the temperature change, and pulls Eddie’s drawers open to retrieve a pair of pants and some fuzzy socks. He finger-combs his hair, because he has to, and creaks the door open, peeking out into the apartment.

Zoe’s on her counter, of course, and Eddie’s at the stove, bed-head fully intact on both of them. Eddie has on his pajamas from last night, plus the cutest little black cat slippers. Zoe has on her favorite pajamas, pink and purple cheetah print pants and one of Eddie’s shirts. It’s all too cute for Steve to function, and he has to bite his lip to keep from squealing.

He slips into the hallway, sneaking into the kitchen and scooping Zoe up into a hug.

“Hi, Stevie!”

He plops her back onto her counter, wrapped in a blanket and holding the stuffed animal of Jiji that he got her for her birthday. Eddie turns to look at them, and he’s pouting.

“I wanted to wake you up with breakfast in bed, you weenie.”

Steve goes over to him, sliding across the linoleum of the kitchen floor on his fuzzy socks. He wraps his arms around Eddie and kisses the side of his head, bed-head and all.

“I woke up because the bed was cold, so who’s the weenie now?”

“You’re both weenies,” Zoe says, and they both crack up laughing.

“Zoe, that’s not very nice,” Eddie says between laughs. He pulls the french toast off the pan and slides the two slices onto a plate, sprinkling powdered sugar on it before handing it to Steve. “There’s strawberries in the fridge if you want them, and I think we have OJ.”

Steve shovels a forkful of french toast into his mouth and has to hold back a moan, it’s so good.

“God, that’s good. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Eddie smirks, then it turns into his signature sweet smile. “Wayne gave me some of his old cookbooks, and I watch the food network like I’m being paid to do it.”

“Well it paid off, because this french toast is ridiculous. Did you and Zoe eat already?”

“Yep,” Zoe says, “we had cinnamon toast crunch and strawberries, and orange juice.”

Eddie looks at Steve’s confused face and shrugs. “It’s our favorite. If it ain’t broke and all that. Plus, I wanted to make you a nice breakfast after… last night.”

Aah, yes, Steve’s emotional breakdown when he could’ve been coming into Eddie’s fist. Fantastic. He feels his face going red, and he shovels more food in his mouth to keep himself occupied.

“Can someone get me down, please? I wanna watch cartoons.”

Eddie grabs Zoe off the counter with ease, putting her down on the floor and ruffling her hair before she turns on the TV. When there’s more noise in the living room, Eddie speaks.

“You don’t have to feel bad about it, you know.”

Steve blushes, forking more delicious breakfast into his mouth.

Eddie just sighs, taking the plate and setting it on the counter before backing Steve into it so he can’t reach his breakfast. And Eddie called him a weenie.

Steve gives him a small smile and kisses him, hoping the distraction would suffice. It does not.

“Stop trying to distract me with kisses, you little shit.” Eddie says, in between said distraction kisses.

“Seems like it’s working.” Steve nips at his lower lip and Eddie makes a sweet little noise as he pulls away.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Eddie’s blushing, and very, very cute, but there’s an issue.

“Eddie,” Steve whines, “don’t ask me on a pity date because I had a breakdown, Jesus, babe.”

Eddie frowns. “Who said it was a pity date? I want to spend time with my boyfriend, sue me.”

“I’m just saying you don’t have to overcompensate with niceties.”

Eddie boops his nose to get him to smile. “Dates are not niceties, baby, and I’m not trying to overcompensate. I want to take you on a date. You know, that isn’t a children’s activity.”

Steve nods. As much as he loves Zoe with everything he’s got, he’s a little tired of kids' movies and such.

“What would we be doing on this date?”

Eddie grins. “I was thinking we could get dinner at that bistro place you like. I’ll bring a candle for the table and the waiter will yell at me and I won’t care. We’ll get dessert even though it’ll give us heartburn, and then we can come back here and pick up where we left off last night.”

Steve blushes something fierce. “Sounds like you’ve had this planned for a while.”

“Maybe I have. Maybe I’ve been planning this since you asked to kiss me in front of the jellyfish.”

Steve smiles and kisses Eddie on his cute nose. “Do you think we scandalized those jellyfish?”

Eddie nods, bumping foreheads. “Oh, for sure. They’ve probably never seen such bisexual tension in their lives.”

Steve snorts. “How do you know the jellyfish aren’t gay, Eds?”

“You know,” Eddie says, pondering, “now that I think about it, jellyfish are very gay.”

Steve cackles, pulling Eddie into a sweet smooch before settling in for morning cartoons.

—

Meet the staff night is only a slight disaster.

For starters, he isn’t running the counseling table by himself, he’s stuck with Heidi. She’s behaving herself, mostly, making sure she’s within view when she bends over but not saying anything off-color to him.

He also didn’t get to have dinner with his boyfriend, which made him a lot grouchier than he expected. Obviously there’s nights where they’re busy or exhausted, but they always call. Neither Steve or Eddie had time tonight, Steve setting up the table and Eddie having to go straight home from work, eat something, then grab Zoe to come up here.

Tonight is kindergarten through second grade night, the third and fifth graders will come with their parents and meet their teachers next week.

Steve knows most of the teachers by name now, the art teacher Yvonne being his favorite. She welcomed him with open arms (quite literally, she’s a hugger) and showed him the ropes. There’s only a few of the teachers he had that are still here, most of them retired or moved out of Hawkins, but the ones still here are happy he’s here. They remember him fondly, little baby-faced Steve Harrington all grown up.

His fifth grade teacher invited him to the monthly bar night all the teachers have, and that threw him for a loop.

The first sets of parents and kids start to come in, and most of them file right past his table in pursuit of those tiny ice cream cups with the wooden spoon. Which is understandable of course. Steve finds himself looking for Eddie and Zoe despite telling himself he wouldn’t, that he would stay focused on the task at hand.

The task at hand, however, is boring as shit and he isn’t going to talk to Heidi if he can help it.

The kids who do come up to the table for coloring pages are very sweet, saying their please and thank you’s and then running off to find their parents.

Sometimes Steve wonders if, in another life, he could be doing this now. If he were the one running around like a chicken with his head cut off trying to wrangle his kid. He had names picked out. Ramona for a girl, Franklin for a boy. Maybe he’ll get to use them, maybe he won’t. As long as he’s with Eddie, it doesn’t matter.

Just as he thinks about Eddie, he walks through the door. Speak of the devil, and all that.

His hair is pulled back into the bun he always wears at work, and he has on a maroon t-shirt and dark jeans. He obviously made an effort to look nice, because Steve notices he doesn’t have his usual Vans on, he has on the checkered ones that don’t see as much use. Eddie looks up and catches Steve’s eye immediately, giving him a little wave before grabbing a supply list off the table and heading into Zoe’s classroom with her.

From what Steve can see, it looks like she has Mrs. Griffith (Ida) which is good. She was Steve’s third grade teacher, and one of the only ones who saw past him being a ‘troublemaker’ and took the time to notice something was wrong. Steve’s glad she’s teaching kindergarten now.

A few minutes later Eddie and Zoe emerge from the classroom, Eddie looking around until he catches sight of Steve and starts making his way to the table. Steve sees the moment Eddie notices Heidi and his face hardens a little.

It really shouldn’t be hot. Oh well.

Zoe runs up to Steve and he catches her in a big hug.

“Stevie!”

It might be the first time he’s smiled all evening.

“Zoe! How’s my favorite girl?”

He lifts her up onto his hip and boops her nose, watching Eddie’s face melt from the icy mask that slid over him when he caught sight of Heidi.

Speaking of which, she’s looking at him like he’s got three heads.

Steve smiles like the sun. “Heidi, this is my boyfriend Eddie and his daughter Zoe.”

“Oh,” she says, disappointed.

Ha.

Eddie raises one eyebrow and gives her the stink eye from hell. Steve thinks about subtly telling him to cool it, but ultimately decides to just hang back and snuggle Zoe, who’s nestled in his shoulder.

“You must be one of Steve’s coworkers.”

If Steve were looking closer, he could swear she rolled her eyes. It makes him want to scratch her eyes clean out of her stupid, peanut-shaped head. He knows Eddie will do a great job of verbally shredding her apart, so he just crouches down to color with Zoe.

“Yep, I’m his next door office neighbor.”

She’s standoffish, icy, and Steve briefly wonders how on earth she’s a children’s counselor.

“Oh, yeah, Steve mentioned your little visit with him the other day. Sounded creepy to me.”

Leave it to Eddie to not pull his punches.

“Excuse me?”

“Immediately flash your,” Eddie glances at Zoe to make sure she isn’t paying attention, “tits at an old teenage fling, call him stupid, and then unwelcomingly flirt with him again? Surely you have more dignity than that.”

Heidi goes bright red and stammers over her words, enraged. “We were-”

Eddie cuts her off. “It doesn’t matter, Heidi. It doesn’t matter that you screwed Steve Harrington eleven years ago. You wanna know why? He’s mine. Got it?”

Heidi presses her lips together. “Steve? You’re not gonna defend me at all?”

Eddie and Steve meet eyes and silently communicate ‘the audacity’ to each other.

“No, I’m not. You skeezed me out, and Eddie’s right. It doesn’t matter what we did eleven years ago, we’re coworkers. That’s it. I’m happy in my relationship, and even if I were single, I’m not that easy. You’d have to do better than a poor attempt at flirting and a cleave shot to get a date.”

She gasps, and he knows that was just over the line of too bitchy, even for him.

“Look, I want to be decent coworkers to each other. I’m fine with a hi at the printer and all that, but if you say anything remotely off-color to me again, I won’t hesitate to let Ava and the school board know.”

That shuts her up.

“We done here?” Eddie asks, annoyed.

Heidi rolls her eyes at him, turning to grab more pamphlets and angrily slapping them down on the table.

Steve sighs. He really thought he was done with passive-aggressive shit when his parents ditched him. “I’m gonna walk them out and I’ll be back.” She doesn't respond, he figured she wouldn’t.

Eddie scoops Zoe up, and Steve walks alongside them, slipping his arm around the small of Eddie’s back and gripping his side.

He wants to fuck the living daylights out of him, if he’s being completely honest with himself. He wants to take Eddie back to his tiny apartment and fuck him until he can’t say anything but Steve’s name, but he can’t. At least not right now.

They’re outside the doors on the sidewalk in front of the parking lot, and Steve at least has to kiss him or he’ll surely explode. Or something equally as dramatic. Eddie seems to sense the way Steve’s vibrating out of his skin and sets Zoe down, still holding her hand.

Steve flings his arms around Eddie’s neck and plants one on him, firm and warm in the center of his mouth. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, in between kisses.

“Of course. I love you. I’d rip a person to shreds every day for you.”

Steve kisses him on the cheek, giggling. “I love you, too. Dinner tomorrow?”

Eddie smiles. “You know it, babycakes. It’s pizza night, so make sure to bring your-”

“Tums, I know. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, you two.”

“Bye, Stevie! See you tomorrow!”

Steve bends down and gives Zoe her own hug and kiss on the forehead. “Bye, sweet pea, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

–

September 21st, 1997

It’s only a couple weeks into kindergarten when Zoe starts to have… issues.

She’s learning just fine, her fine motor skills are good and she’s only coloring a little bit outside the lines, she knows her numbers and whatnot. But kids are mean.

There’s two boys in particular, Calvin and Drayven, according to Eddie, who mess with Zoe a lot. Eddie’s a wreck about it, worried sick every morning when he drops her off that she’ll be crying when Wayne picks her up.

Today was a particularly rough day, unfortunately. Steve came over for dinner to see Zoe sniffling on her counter, already in her jammies and wrapped in one of Eddie’s blankets, the one that always smells like him.

“Hey, munchkin,” Steve says, not even looking at Eddie. “What’s goin’ on, hm?” He goes straight to her and she’s reaching her little arms out of her blanket cocoon. Steve picks her up, and she settles into his side, burying her face in his shirt.

“We had a tough day at school,” Eddie says. His voice is rough and wobbly, and when Steve looks over at him, he’s on the verge of tears himself. Eddie turns back to the stove, tending to the grilled cheese and soup.

“Do you wanna talk about it, sweet pea? You don’t have to.”

She shakes her head no, and Steve hears Eddie pouring soup into bowls and cutting the crusts off of her grilled cheese.

“Okay, that’s fine. Why don’t we drink some water, have some dinner, and then we can watch a movie. Does that sound good?”

She nods, and he sets her into her seat at the kitchen table, blanket and all.

Their little routine of dinner and a movie is usually quite nice. It’s comfortable for all of them to have a routine at the end of the day, having dinner and snuggling up together. Tonight, it’s just quiet and Steve’s heart aches. He figures Eddie will fill him in if he wants to once Zoe’s gone to bed. She’s completely tuckered out, long-blinking in between bites.

“C’mon, baby. Time for bed.”

Eddie sets his spoon down and picks her up, her eyes closing as soon as he touches her. It’s not even 7:30 yet, but Steve knows she’ll be fast asleep until morning.

He hears Eddie step into her room, setting her down on her bed. There’s a hushed conversation happening, and he doesn’t listen for specifics. It isn’t his place, but he hopes it might be one day. He hopes this could be his family, too.

Eddie comes back into the kitchen. He stands in front of the table for a minute until his eyes glass over and his bottom lip starts to wobble. Steve gently gets out of his seat and wraps his arms around him, pressing a soft kiss into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stands there, arms at his sides with Steve wrapped around him.

“She’s my baby, Steve. My baby. She’s so sweet, how could anyone-”

He chokes on a sob, and Steve just hugs him tighter, clinging to him like a koala. “She’s the best girl. The sweetest girl in the world.”

Eddie sniffs, reaching up to lightly put his arms around Steve. “They don’t just call her names. She had pigtails the other day, and she took them out because those boys were pulling on them. They yank on her clothes, don’t let her play with the toys she wants. I just want to fix it, but I don’t know what to do.”

Steve holds him while he cries, rubbing his back and murmuring sweet things in his ear. Eddie’s crying finally gets quieter after a few minutes, and Steve pulls away to wipe his tears away.

“We have to stop meeting this way,” Eddie says, trying to lighten the mood.

“What way, baby?”

Eddie ducks his head, and Steve gently brings it back so they’re looking at each other again. “I’m all snotty and sad.”

“You’re not snotty, sweetheart. And I’m sad, too.”

Eddie looks up at him through tear-soaked lashes. “You are?”

“Of course I’m sad. Zoe’s the sweetest kid in the world, and no one should have to go through that.”

Eddie sniffles again, it’s kind of a gross noise but Steve doesn’t dare say anything. He just offers Eddie a tissue and wipes his tears with his thumbs, cradling his face in his hands.

“I don’t even know what to do,” Eddie whispers. “My approach to dealing with assholes made me a fucking small-town legend. Don’t go near Eddie Munson, he’ll give you cooties. Don’t talk to Eddie Munson, he’ll hypnotize you into being a satanist. I don’t want that for my girl. I can’t have her grow up like I did.”

Steve’s heart shatters. “Eddie, baby, I’m so sorry.”

He just shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Steve strokes over his cheeks as new tears threaten to spill. “No, it’s not. None of that was okay. Not then, and certainly not now. You didn’t get the help you needed because of shitty, abusive parents and classism and other structural bullshit. Eddie, look at me.” He tilts Eddie’s head back up where it lolled down into Steve’s palms. “You are a fantastic dad.”

Eddie starts to shake his head but Steve isn’t having it. He holds Eddie’s head still, fingers gripping the back of his jaw. “Don’t you dare try to tell me I’m not right, because I know I am. You treat her so well, make her feel special, give her independence. She’s a great person because she just is, but she’s also a great person because of you. Because you love her.”

Eddie’s crying again, big tears spilling down onto his cheeks. Steve lets them drip down his hands.

“Steve-” Eddie whispers, voice strained and whimpering.

“We’re gonna get this figured out. You and me. I’ll help as much as I can, if you want me to.”

Eddie nods now that Steve’s grip on his head has loosened. “Please.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hair aside so he can kiss his forehead. “Alright, baby.”

They sit together at the table, notebook out. So far, they’ve formulated a plan to have Eddie meet with Ava and Mrs. Griffith after school one day, after Zoe’s already been picked up so she doesn’t get anxious. Eddie isn’t certain a meeting will do anything, and Steve agrees.

“It’s just a first step, so someone in charge knows what’s going on. It might be easier to solve things if we have a paper trail.”

A small, mean voice in the back of Steve’s head tells him to be careful using words like ‘we’. He’d love to be a part of their little family, but he’s been quick to shut down any optimism since he was a child. Steve will always walk on the side of caution with things like this, like family.

The voice shuts up when Eddie lays a warm hand on top of Steve’s.

“Thank you for helping. You don’t have to.”

Yes he does. Helping the people he loves is ingrained into Steve’s DNA at this point. It was just a matter of if Eddie would let him.

“I want to help, you know that.”

Eddie nods, tired. “I do, sor-”

“If you say sorry, I will spray you with the sink sprayer.”

Eddie laughs for the first time all evening, and Steve feels it seep into his chest like warm honey.

–

It’s not even a week before Zoe fixes her issue all by herself.

The meeting with Ava, Mrs. Griffith, and Eddie was set for exactly a week after the plan Steve made with Eddie. Eddie had a checklist of things to talk about, concerns he had, etcetera. It was a really solid plan, honestly.

Steve hadn’t accounted for Munson Independence, which was a bad move on his part.

He’s on his lunch when he hears the gentle stomps of little feet in the hall outside his office. His office door is cracked, just enough to deter people from coming in but still seeming approachable. A forkful of semi-decent leftover stir fry is three-quarters of the way to his mouth when he hears it.

“Stevie?!”

He’s never flung his office door open so fast in his life. Zoe’s standing in the hall, face red and eyes wide. She’s upset, Steve knows that much just by the tone of her voice, but he can’t pinpoint exactly what she’s feeling.

“Zoe? What’s going on?” He just barely stops himself from calling her honey. This is work, and he has to be at least semi-professional.

She marches into his office and paces around the bean bags, tapping her fingertips with the pads of her thumbs. “Daddy’s gonna be mad.”

Steve doesn’t know what’s going on, but it’s a safe bet Eddie wouldn’t be angry. “Why do you say that, Zo?”

She takes a deep breath in like Eddie taught her, still thumb-tapping. “They were mean to me, they pulled on my hair, Stevie. They tried to pull on my pants.”

Steve sees red, but by the grace of the universe keeps his face neutral. Zoe opens her mouth and closes it, face drawing up tight. Steve just waits it out, she’ll say what she needs to say in her own time.

She looks down at the floor. “I hit them.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Can you tell me more about what happened, please?” He subtly retrieves a notepad and pen from his drawer.

“We had indoor recess ‘cause it’s raining, and I wanted to play house with Taylor and Ronnie, but Calvin kept pulling on me, and Drayven yanked my ponytail out.”

Steve looks at her hair, and sure enough it’s mussed. He makes a note to fix it when he can.

“They started to pull on my pants when I got real mad. I got the big Barbie and hit them both in the nose. Daddy said no hitting, Stevie, he’s gonna be mad.”

Honestly, Steve thinks, once he’s done seeing red about what the boys did, he’ll be proud of Zoe for standing up for herself.

“Zoe, does Mrs. Griffith know you came to see me?”

She shakes her head, and Steve grabs his phone. “I’m gonna let her know where you are, and then I think we should go see Ms. Gomez.”

Zoe starts to panic, and Steve briefly thinks professionalism can kiss it where the sun don’t shine. He goes over to her, sitting in front of her crisscross applesauce.

“Can you take a deep breath for me, sweetie?” She does, and it’s shaky but good. “Great job. When we go see Ms. Gomez, I’ll explain what happened, and then she’ll call your dad to come to the school so we can talk about it with him. No one is going to yell at you, I promise.”

Her nose goes red like it does when she’s about to cry, and he pulls her into a hug. “No one's gonna yell at you, Zo. Especially not your dad. Okay?”

She wipes her eyes before tears have even fallen, and nods.

“Okay. I’m gonna call Mrs. Griffith, you can sit on the bean bags if you want to.”

She plops down on the bean bags while Steve dials her in-room extension.

“Steve, what’s going on?” Mrs. Griffith sounds shaken, and Steve obviously knows why.

“Zoe’s with me. She told me what happened, and we’re going to see Ms. Gomez in a second.”

Mrs. Griffith sighs with relief. “Oh, thank god. I sent the boys to the nurse, so I’m sure she has an idea of the situation.”

“Right. I’ll let you get back to your classroom, I just wanted to let you know she’s taken care of.”

“Of course, thank you Steve.”

“No worries.” They hang up the phone and Steve takes a deep breath at the same time Zoe does.

“You ready, sweet pea?”

She stands up, grabbing his hand as they exit his office. Steve’s office isn’t too far from the main office, the counseling offices just down the hall and around the corner. They’re almost to the main office when Zoe tugs on his hand.

“What’s up, Zo?” He may not be able to call her the usual sweet nicknames in the middle of the hallway, but Zo will do.

“You’re sure daddy won’t be mad? I won’t get in trouble?”

It’s kind of a trick question.

“Between you and me, I’m pretty sure you won’t get in trouble with your dad. The school, I don’t know about.”

She sighs. “Because violence is never the answer.”

Steve nods. Personally, he’s damn proud of her. She stood up for herself and sent those little shits a clear ‘don’t fuck with me’ message. Professionally, though, he’s supposed to stay neutral and preach ‘violence is never the answer’ even though sometimes it just is.

Was he supposed to use I statements on Vecna? Be serious.

“Well,” she says, “better get this over with.” It always cracks Steve up when she talks like a middle aged man, but he doesn’t laugh now.

Ms. Gomez’s office door is already open when they reach the main office, and when the little bell on the door jingles, she greets them.

“Hi, you two. C’mon in.”

Steve squeezes Zoe’s hand and leads her into Ms. Gomez’s office.

It’s a nice pale blue, her large white L-shaped desk taking up a quarter of the room. She also has a couple bean bags in front of her desk with a small basket of stress balls and other sensory toys. She pulls her chair out from behind her desk and sits in it, Zoe climbing into the chair next to Steve.

“Zoe, can you tell me what happened today?”

Ava prides herself on being approachable, easy to talk to, but Zoe’s an anxious kid. She just stares at Ava with big, wet eyes and doesn’t say anything. Steve clears his throat softly, and Zoe looks over at him with ‘please for god’s sake help me’ written all over her face.

“Ms. Gomez just wants to know what happened so she can understand why it happened, Zo.”

If Ava’s eyebrow raises just a little bit, he pretends he doesn’t see it. Zoe’s mouth, unfortunately, seems to be pressed shut even further.

“When she came into my office, I asked what happened and wrote it down if that helps.” He pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to Ava.

“That would be helpful, thank you Mr. Harrington.”

Zoe crinkles her nose up in confusion at Steve being called Mr. Harrington. To her, he’s just Stevie who watches cartoons with her.

Ava reads over the paper once, then starts again. He wants to jump in and over-explain himself, tell her he wrote down everything Zoe said verbatim, tell her this has been going on for weeks now and she’s miserable. He tucks his hands together on his lap so he doesn’t wring them. He risks a glance over at Zoe and a few tears have escaped, sliding down her pink cheeks. He mouths ‘it’s okay’ to her and hands her a tissue. Normally, he’d be the first to offer her a hug and wipe her tears and it’s killing him that he can’t.

“How long has this been going on?” Ava addresses the question to Zoe, but when it’s obvious she will not be opening her mouth, she looks to Steve.

“About a week after school started.”

Ava takes out a notepad of her own, taping Steve’s notes to a piece of paper and grabbing a pen to take notes of her own. “Does Mrs. Griffith know about this?”

“I haven’t been made aware of anything other than the situation. Mrs. Griffith usually has a great handle on her classroom, so I’m sure she at least has a general idea.”

Ava nods. “Right. And, Mr. Harrington, how were you made aware of this? Since she came directly to your office.”

Zoe chooses now to pipe up. “Mrs. Griffith said if anything happens, I should tell a trusted adult.” Steve’s heart soars.

“Absolutely, Zoe, that’s right. Mr. Harrington, can I see you outside for just a second?”

He’s fucked. He’s completely and utterly fucked and he’s gonna lose his job, and-

“Of course.”

He tries not to look like a kicked puppy as he hands Zoe a coloring page and some crayons and steps into the main office with Ava. The office is blessedly empty, the normal hustle and bustle tamed to silence. Ava just quirks an eyebrow and waits.

Steve sighs. “Zoe’s dad and I are together.”

Ava nods. “I figured that, considering you’re on her emergency contact sheet. I’m assuming I don’t have to tell you to keep everything above board?”

“No, of course not. I take my job very seriously, and I know how to still be professional with her around.”

Ava seems fine with his answer. “Do you have anything else lined up for the day?”

“No, I was just planning on organizing my files and such.”

Ava nods, almost to herself. “Alright. She does seem more comfortable with you here, even if she isn’t talking. I’m going to call Mr. Munson in a moment.”

Steve almost laughs at Eddie being called Mr. Munson, but he keeps it together. “He did have a plan to have a meeting with you and Mrs. Griffith, it was going to be next week sometime. He had a pretty solid plan, too.”

“Good, I’m glad he knew what to do. Would you know if he’s at home, or is he at work?”

Steve doesn’t have to look at the clock, he knows Eddie’s routine like the back of his hand. “He should be at work, I’d try that number first.”

“Right, thank you Steve. Does coloring calm her down?”

Steve nods.

“Got it. I’ll write that down and make sure to tell Mrs. Griffith for future reference.” Ava opens her office door again, and Steve gets down on the floor to watch Zoe color while Ava calls Eddie.

“Hi, Mr. Munson? This is Ms. Gomez from the school. There was an incident with Zoe today, and-”

“Is she okay? What happened?” Steve can hear how frantic Eddie sounds, and it’s breaking his heart.

“She’s upset, but alright. There was an incident involving Calvin and Drayven, and I’d rather talk about it in person if that’s alright.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Is she- is someone with her?”

Ava looks over to Steve and offers a small smile. “Zoe went to Steve as soon as it happened, and he’s here with her and I now.”

Eddie sighs with relief. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in ten minutes, tops.”

“See you soon, then.” Ava types a few things into her computer, passing time before Eddie comes in.

Steve just watches Zoe color, her butterfly a lovely pink color. It’s eight minutes later when the office door bell jingles and Ava gets up. She opens her office door, and Eddie’s already moving toward Zoe, because of course he is.

“Mr. Munson, you were correct. Ten minutes, tops.” She shows him into her office, and Zoe scrambles off the floor to get to him. He hugs her tight, despite probably smelling like machinery. As soon as she’s in his arms, it all spews out of her like lava.

“The boys were being so mean to me, dad, and they yanked on my hair and pulled on my pants, and I didn’t wanna cry anymore. I took the big Barbie and I hit them. I know you said no hitting, daddy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Eddie crouches down so he’s eye-level with her. “Take a deep breath, baby. In and out, remember?” Zoe sniffles, taking a big, deep breath. “Good. Listen, bug, hitting isn’t okay. But I am proud of you for standing up for yourself. We just gotta find a different way to do it next time.”

Zoe nods, big brown eyes looking into Eddie’s own.

“I’m glad we agree, my friend. I’m gonna talk to Ms. Gomez for a minute, okay?”

“Okay. I’m gonna color with Stevie.”

Eddie’s head snaps up at that, eyes searching the room. Steve gives him a little wave from his newly standing position, not wanting to look like an idiot sitting on the floor when Zoe was elsewhere. Eddie waves back to him, a little pink blush setting up shop on his cheeks. He sits in one of the chairs facing Ava’s desk, and Steve has the good sense to zone out a bit, preferring to color with Zoe, her butterfly almost complete.

It’s pink, purple, and blue, and Steve smiles. “Those are my favorite colors.”

Zoe brightens up for the first time all afternoon. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” Steve thinks he hears Ava saying something about ‘suspension isn’t necessary’, but he focuses on Zoe.

She finishes up the butterfly, handing the loose-leaf coloring page over to him. “You can have it, Stevie.”

Steve beams. “Thank you so much, sweetie. I’ll hang it up in my office as soon as I get back.”

She nods, happily putting the crayons away and plopping onto one of the bean bags, waiting for Eddie to be done. It doesn’t take too long, and Steve caught the gist of it. The boys are in more trouble for the bullying than she is for sticking up for herself, even if the method wasn’t ideal.

Eddie shakes Ava’s hand, telling her, “please, it’s Eddie,” when she calls him Mr. Munson again. Zoe’s signed out for the day, having gone through enough of an emotional rollercoaster. Steve gets up, and looks at Ava.

“Is it alright if I walk them out?”

She smiles warmly and nods towards the door. He smiles back at her and trails behind Eddie like a duckling. Eddie wraps his free arm around Steve, his left hand holding Zoe’s right. Steve thinks this is where he’d like to be for the rest of his life.

They get out to the front of the school, standing on the sidewalk next to the parking lot, when something occurs to Steve. “Am I still okay to come over for dinner?”

Eddie looks confused. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Steve gives him a small shrug. “Zo’s had quite the day. I just thought you two might want some space.” He tries not to bite at the inside of his lip after he says it. That’s his biggest tell that he’s anxious, and Eddie knows that.

Eddie squints at him, just slightly, before turning to Zoe. “What do you think, bug? Are you alright with Steve coming over tonight?”

Zoe nods her head, eyelids fluttering even though she’s standing up. It’s been a hell of a day for her, Steve can’t blame her for wanting a nap.

Eddie shrugs. “There’s your answer. I expect to see you at 5:30 sharp, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, despite himself. “I’ll be there.”

–

“I can’t believe she cracked them in the nose. Both of ‘em. At once."

Eddie looks awed in his spot on the couch, feet tucked under him with his half of the blanket covering him, glass of wine in hand. In their youth, it was always beer, or on wilder nights, straight liquor, but they’re in their thirties. A nice glass of wine usually does it.

“I know,” Steve says. “Ida told me the whole story after school got out, and my jaw hit the floor.”

“Steve, who the hell is Ida?”

Steve flicks Eddie in the big toe, just because. “Mrs. Griffith. Her first name is Ida.”

Eddie snorts, amused. “So you’re running around making friends with old ladies? Shocker.”

“It’s not my fault older women flock to me, Eddie.” Steve says it with a playful smirk on his face and Eddie throws his head back, cackling.

“Steve Harrington, king of the milfs,” he says in between laughs, and he looks so cute it makes Steve laugh, too.

“Well, Ida’s sixty-two so she’d be a gilf, technically. Her grandsons seem nice-”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m gonna kiss you to shut you up now.”

“Rude,” Steve says, with absolutely no bite or argument as Eddie curls himself up half on top of Steve, his back pressed into the back of the couch while he kisses Steve from the side.

It’s a very sweet kiss, gentle and warm in the low light of the candles Eddie has lit on the coffee table. Today’s selections are pumpkin bonfire and a vanilla something or another that really do smell quite nice. It’s just not what Steve is entirely focused on.

He’s focused on Eddie’s hands on his face, his warm mouth against Steve’s, his wet tongue peeking its way in between Steve’s lips. Eddie’s kissing like he’s asking Steve permission for more, and Steve just fucking adores him. Loves him down to his very core.

“Eddie, honey,” he says in between kisses, when Eddie’s less than a breath away from his mouth. “You can lick into me if you want. Don’t have to ask.”

Eddie makes a little noise before gently pressing his fingers to the hinges of Steve’s jaw, opening his mouth for him. It, embarrassingly enough, goes straight to Steve’s dick. He subtly moves a throw pillow over him, hoping Eddie’s distracted enough by his mouth.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to be gentle with you?” Eddie asks, flicking the pillow to the floor. Well, there goes that plan. Steve’s face flushes red and Eddie keeps going, fingers massaging the hinges of his jaw to keep it open.

“Maybe I want to ask you if I can lick into your mouth. Maybe I enjoy knowing you want me. Maybe treating you nicely makes me happy. Did you ever think of that, sweetheart?”

If anyone asks, it isn’t Steve’s fault that he goes a little stupid; nodding his head and moaning when Eddie strokes his cheeks and kisses him like he means every word. If Steve’s brain blacks out at the thought of someone, especially Eddie, his favorite person in the history of people, genuinely wanting to be good to him, oh well. His praise kink is the size of Texas, and he fucking knows it, alright? Jeez.

He opens his legs just the slightest bit so Eddie can slot one in between his, and Eddie smiles at him. “Thanks for thinking of me, baby, I appreciate it. I’m very comfy.” He rests one of his hands on Steve’s stomach and Steve resists the urge to suck in. He knows he tenses though, based on the split-second frown that crosses Eddie’s face.

“I haven’t told you you’re pretty yet tonight. Shame on me,” he says, kissing his way across Steve’s neck down to his chest. If he goes for a nipple, Steve will come untouched, he knows he will, so he gently guides Eddie’s head back up to his face.

“I’m sure I’ll survive somehow if my beautiful, doting boyfriend doesn’t call me pretty for all of twenty four hours.” He punctuates his thought with a kiss to Eddie’s nose.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t want you to fade away like Tinkerbell.” Eddie’s smiling his sweet, gentle Steve smile, the one that makes Steve’s heart flutter.

“So tell me I’m pretty,’ Steve whispers. His eyes are big and vulnerable, and he allows himself the certainty of seeing the same look in Eddie’s.

“You, Steve Harrington, are the prettiest in the world.”

Eddie has this look in his eye when he tells Steve he’s pretty that makes Steve want to believe him.

Steve’s body naturally cuts any tension at the sound of Eddie’s voice, sagging into the couch with a happy sigh as Eddie giggles and gets back to kissing him like his life depends on it. When Steve cants his hips up into Eddie’s leg, Eddie hums approvingly into Steve’s mouth.

“Still gotta take you on that date, pretty boy.”

Steve just moans, lost in the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his skin and the pressure of Eddie’s leg pressed down onto his dick.

“Wanna take you out before I fuck you right, okay? I’m gonna get you flowers and everything. My special boy, my Stevie.”

Steve shudders under the sweet words, grinding up against Eddie’s leg with purpose now.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” There’s a little trepidation in Eddie’s voice, like he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing. Steve takes a deep breath and grabs one of Eddie’s hands, resting it on his chest.

“Really good, baby, thank you. You can, um. You can touch me. You know, if you want to.”

Sometimes it baffles Steve how far he’s come from the ‘King Steve’ shit. The younger version of himself wouldn’t be caught dead giving into the urge to say thank you, to hand over control sometimes. He’s so glad he’s grown. How else would he have gotten to experience this?

Eddie looks at him, assessing. He brushes Steve’s hair out of his face, and it makes him blush.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Steve nods without hesitation. “I do. Know you’ll make me feel good, you won’t be mean to me.”

He doesn’t want to think about it now of all times, but Sam wasn’t always the nicest in bed. When Steve wanted slow and sweet, he’d start that way and then end up pounding into Steve unforgivingly until he finished, then promptly pulled out. Steve was okay with things like being called a slut occasionally, but sometimes Sam took it just this side of too far. He always apologized, tried to kiss it better, but it never seemed genuine, looking back on it.

Steve is pulled back to the present moment by Eddie rubbing his jaw open again.

“Of course I wouldn’t be mean to you, honey. Even if you asked me to be, I’d still check in on you and stuff. Did… did someone hurt you?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and concerned, and damn it Steve ruined the moment again. He ducks his head down, trying to get away from Eddie’s intense gaze, but Eddie keeps rubbing at his jaw, reverent, until Steve locks eyes with him again.

“Sometimes Sam wasn’t the absolute nicest in bed, that’s all.” Steve rocks up into Eddie’s leg before he starts to flag too much, but Eddie stops him.

“Steve, honey, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. Do you wanna talk about it at all? Set some boundaries, tell me what’s okay and what isn’t?”

God, he’s just the best isn’t he?

Steve shakes his head. “You know me better than anyone, sweetheart. I know you’ll take care of me right now, and when we do get to more… intense stuff, we can talk about it. For now, I really want a cozy handjob. Please.” He flashes a toothy smile at Eddie, who smiles back so hard his dimples pop.

“I think I can manage that,” Eddie whispers, moving one hand to Steve’s hair and the other trailing down his entire body. It stops right above the waistband of the sweats he’s taken to keeping in his car so he can be comfy when he’s here. He knows he’ll have to wash these ones.

Eddie scratches his fingers through Steve’s happy trail for a moment before moving down into the bush Steve’s been sporting lately, due to sheer laziness. He blushes bright red and goes to apologize, but when he looks at Eddie, his eyes are blown wide and his mouth is hanging open.

“You’ll catch flies, baby,” Steve says, gently pressing his mouth shut by the underside of his chin.

Eddie snaps back into reality, combing his fingers through the coarse hair under his hand. “Never took you for a bush-wearer.” He’s smirking, the little shit, giving a gentle tug that makes Steve make an incredibly slutty noise.

“I gotta see this. I always wanted to know what you’d look like with a bush.” Eddie looks down at where his fingers pull through Steve’s pubes, and it’s such a good mix of pain and pleasure that Steve’s back arches off the couch all on its own.

“Why did you never ask me to grow one?”

Eddie shrugs, shimmying down the couch so his shoulders are sandwiched in between Steve’s thighs. One of Steve’s legs is off the couch, but he can’t say he minds much at all with Eddie staring at him like he wants to eat him alive.

“Wasn’t my place, it’s your body and all. Can I take your pants off, honey?”

“Yes please,” Steve sighs, content until the cold of the living room makes goosebumps pop up on his skin. He also isn’t sure about his literal bare ass on Eddie’s couch, and he’s about to say something about it when Eddie pulls a little packet of lube out of his pajama pants pocket.

“Came prepared this time,” he says with a smirk.

Usually lube means fingers, though, and Steve very much did not come prepared.

“I didn’t really… ya know… plan for that.”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in confusion. “You just said you wanted a handjob. Lube does a lot better job than spit, you know this.”

Steve breathes a little sigh of relief. “Oh, gotcha. Okay, carry on please.”

Eddie snickers, pressing kisses into Steve’s inner thighs. Steve watches his face very carefully, and he sees when Eddie has a lightbulb moment.

“Actually, you know what? I think I’d really like to get my mouth on you, if that’s alright. Wanna press my nose into that bush.”

Steve loses his breath. “Y-yes, yeah, absolutely, please do. You can do whatever the hell you want, babe.”

Eddie smiles at him, resting his head on Steve’s thigh. “Good to know. I’m still gonna ask, you know. You deserve to be treated well, especially when you’re all laid out for me so pretty.”

Steve tries not to snap his legs closed when he feels himself leaking like a fucking faucet. It’s embarrassing, but it’s so, so good, because Eddie chases the liquid with his tongue, lapping it up as it drips down his shaft.

“Eddie, Eddie, fuck.”

He giggles, the bastard. “My middle name’s Alexander, baby, you know that.” He follows up his ‘hilarious’ joke with a fat stripe licked up Steve’s dick from root to tip that makes them both shiver.

“Forgot how good this is,” Eddie murmurs, before gently sucking the tip into his mouth.

It’s warm, and wet, and Eddie’s making these sweet little sounds that feel like an electric shock to Steve’s heart. He’s just so sweet, taking care of Steve, making him feel so loved while also receiving the wettest blowjob of his life. There’s spit dripping down the length of him, right onto the faded black leather of the couch, and he feels bad for all of two seconds before Eddie hollows his cheeks and sucks Steve down further with much more intent.

Steve lets out a groan that he muffles by stuffing his own fingers in his mouth. Eddie looks up at him through his stupidly long lashes and moans around his dick, pressing himself down even further. Steve swirls his fingers around in his mouth, getting them wet like Eddie used to make him do to his fingers. Eddie starts to gag a little, but tries to push further. Steve uses his spit-wet hand to tug at Eddie’s hair.

“Don’t hurt yourself, baby, take your time, okay? You’re making me feel so good, darling, don’t worry. Love you so much.”

Steve’s always been a sex babbler, but luckily he has a partner who finds it endearing instead of annoying.

Partner. Steve has a partner. The thought almost makes him teary, but he keeps himself on track, rubbing his hands over Eddie’s head. “You can pull off for a minute if you need to, baby. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Eddie pulls off very slowly, hollowing his cheeks on the way up so it’s like Steve is in a plush, warm vacuum sealer. It almost sends him over the edge, but Eddie’s off his dick just in time. Eddie pants below him, eye-level with Steve’s balls, and he’s sure it’s not the prettiest view in the world, so he tries to pull Eddie up to him. Eddie isn’t having it.

He looks up at Steve and sighs happily from his spot on Steve’s right thigh. “You feel real good in my mouth, sweetheart. So fucking good, all the time. Best boy.” He sucks kisses into the crease where Steve’s thigh meets his hips, leaving little red marks wherever he goes. His fingers stroke lightly over Steve’s dick, and just the feel of Eddie touching him at all is gonna send him over the edge at this point.

“You take such good care of me, baby,” Steve says, scratching Eddie’s scalp, which makes him purr like a housecat.

“Love you, Steve. I love you so much.”

Steve isn’t able to say anything more before Eddie runs his tongue over one of his balls, matting the hair there down with spit. Steve yelps, slapping a hand over his mouth. It’s been a very, very long time since anyone’s done that, and he wasn’t expecting it.

“As much as I’d like to enjoy this for a lot longer, I’m really fucking close, baby.” Steve’s on the verge of whining, and Eddie must be able to tell because his sweet, lax face has morphed into a wolfish grin.

“You don’t get to come until you’re all the way down my throat. Got it?”

Steve might come now, if Eddie isn’t careful with his words.

King Steve had stamina, thirty year old ‘my last relationship was garbage, and now I’m with someone who actually loves me’ Steve does not. Steve nods, pushing his hips up so his dick smears pre-come all over Eddie’s cheek.

“Alright, alright, I get it, honey. You’re gonna get what you want,” Eddie says, his soothing tone washing over Steve like summer rain. It’s not even five seconds before his dick is halfway down Eddie’s throat in one fucking go.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god, shit shit shit, you’re so fucking good at this, baby, fuck.”

Eddie just hums around Steve, letting even more spit slip out of his mouth and drip filthily onto Steve’s skin. His dick is almost three-quarters of the way down Eddie’s throat, his head pushing further and further down in little increments. Steve feels him breathe in through his nose, steadying himself, and Steve strokes his hair as a reward.

“Good job, baby, fuck. Feels really, really good, Eddie. So good, honey, so good for me.”

Eddie whines, so high in his throat that Steve can barely feel it against his skin. He’s so focused on drinking in Eddie’s noises that he doesn’t notice Eddie’s hands drifting to the backs of his thighs. Steve yelps when Eddie grips him by the back of his legs, hoisting him up the rest of the way into his throat.

“Fucking christ, oh my god,” he moans, completely caught off guard. Eddie abruptly lets his thighs go and pushes his head down to chase after Steve’s dick, pressing his nose down into Steve’s bush as promised.

He hears Eddie groan, and it’s then that he catches the small humping motions Eddie’s making against the couch; just little twitches of his hips against the leather that make the couch squeak underneath him.

“You gonna come with me down your throat, sweetheart? Want you to. Want you to come all over yourself, make a fucking mess for me, can you do that, baby? Please?”

Eddie’s hips speed up, and his throat spasms around Steve’s dick when he comes, gasping through his nose and moaning like he can’t do anything else, and that’s ultimately what does Steve in.

He taps Eddie’s head, pulls on his hair, trying to get his attention. “Gonna- fuck, Eddie, coming, baby.” It’s not much of a warning, Steve knows, but Eddie gets the message, nodding as much as he can in his current position, his nose tickling Steve’s skin.

There’s another leak before his body draws up tight like a bow about to shoot an arrow, and Eddie smiling around him when he feels Steve’s body go tight like that is what finishes him off, groaning softly as he spills down Eddie’s throat.

Eddie’s grinning ear to fucking ear while Steve comes, and he can feel warm, wet liquid spilling back down onto his dick, he can’t open his eyes to see if it’s spit or come or both yet. He just rides it out, holding perfectly still so Eddie can have him exactly like he wants him, so he doesn’t hurt him.

When he finally feels himself going soft, Eddie relaxes his throat and very gently pulls off, and Steve sees now that his own come and Eddie’s spit is streaming down his dick, balls, and onto the couch. Eddie’s taken his place resting on Steve’s thigh again, rosy-cheeked and grinning easily at Steve. He strokes his hand through Eddie’s hair, reveling in the content hum it gets him.

“Come up here, please. Wanna smooch.” Steve’s voice is reduced to a raspy whisper, and he can’t imagine what Eddie’s will be like.

Eddie nods, picking himself up and crawling up Steve’s body to give him a soft, sweet kiss. It’s no less dizzying than the very first time he got to kiss Eddie all the way back in 1986. The softness of Eddie’s mouth is the same, the plush of his pink-red lips. He’s just as gentle as he’s always been, always waiting for Steve to decide the pace, the depth. But now, eleven years later, there’s a worn-in happiness in their kisses.

Kissing Eddie feels like Steve’s favorite blanket, in a sense. It makes him happy, cozy, fills him with the fuzzy feel-goods he always lacked. The best part is, they have all the time in the world. There’s no need to look over their shoulders, live in fear of being caught. It’s just Steve and Eddie, kissing softly on the couch in the middle of the week because they love each other.

Steve pulls away with a slick noise, having gotten a bit of spit on Eddie’s lips. He gently wipes it away with his sweater sleeve and kisses Eddie’s forehead.

]“How’s your throat, baby?” His hands are still in Eddie’s hair, fingers rubbing his scalp lazily.

Eddie tries to clear it, wincing a bit. “It’s okay. Not the worst it’s ever been.”

Steve hums in response. “I’ll make you tea in the morning. Sorry about the couch, by the way, it’s kinda messy.”

“The pledge wipes are in the cabinet under the sink, I’ll grab them in a minute. I’d like another kiss first, please and thank you.”

Steve smiles warmly at him before kissing him again, warm and cozy with the weight of his favorite person on top of him. Eddie lowers himself down to fully lay down on Steve, and he grimaces when he feels Eddie’s come-soaked pajama pants on his bare leg.

“Okay, I love you dearly, but we have to clean up now.”

Eddie giggles, light and easy. “You mean you don’t want to feel my lukewarm mess? And here I thought the blood-spitter wasn’t squeamish.”

Steve sticks his tongue out at him. “First of all, I haven’t had to spit out monster blood in a very long time, and second, no I don’t want your leftovers all over me, thank you. C’mon, up we get.”

They get off the couch, joints creaking, and Steve pulls his sweats and underwear up for the sake of his dignity. Eddie makes a sour face at the state of his own mess, heading straight for the bathroom. Steve hears the tap run, and goes to the cabinet for the pledge wipes. They’re lemon-scented, and Steve fleetingly remembers it smelling like lemons in February when they had their big talk. He must’ve been anxiety cleaning.

He grabs the container of wipes, taking to the spitty mess on the couch that has now begun to seep into the crack of the cushions. Steve takes a deep breath and gets most of the mess cleaned up in one fell swoop, going back in for cushion crack with a new wipe.

“Are you really cleaning your come out of the couch crack?” Eddie’s leaning on the wall, new pajama pants on and smelling like bar soap.

“Yes? Did you want me to just leave it?” Steve’s face is scrunched up from the mess, and from Eddie making fun of him for politely cleaning up the mess.

“Well, no, definitely not. You’re just too sweet, that’s all.” Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s soft middle. “Almost done? M’ sleepy.”

Steve nods, swiveling to kiss Eddie’s cheek. “Just gotta throw these wipes away and do my own cleanup stuff.”

Eddie nods, taking the wipes from Steve’s hand, going to throw them away. The air is cold when he doesn’t have Eddie clinging to him like a giant koala. When he walks back toward Steve, he grabs him by the wrist and leads him into the bathroom. There’s a clean washcloth on the counter, already wet down with warm water.

“I don’t deserve you,” Steve sighs, leaning against the counter Eddie’s gently guiding him towards.

“I respectfully disagree,” Eddie says, taking the washcloth in hand and gently wiping the mess from Steve’s groin. “I think you deserve better than me.” He sounds reverent and a little melancholy.

“There isn’t better. No one’s better for me than you.”

Steve’s never meant anything more in his life, except maybe telling Eddie he loves him.

–

Their date keeps having to be rescheduled.

Steve unfortunately gets the flu, perks of working in a school, being kept prisoner in his own apartment by body aches and a fever that feels like he’s being bathed in fire. Robin and Eddie do shifts checking in on him and dropping off various soups, and he’s fine in a week.

Then, Eddie gets a call from Wayne who’s in-

“Vegas? Why would Wayne be calling you from Vegas?”

Eddie smiles. “Well, he did mention Claudia’s with him.”

Holy shit.

“What?!”

Eddie nods. “Gettin’ hitched. Said they’re too old for a whole shindig, so they took a road trip and they’re hitting the chapel tonight. Dustin’s gonna lose his shit.”

Dustin Henderson is absolutely going to pitch the fit of the century. There’s nothing he loves more than a whole shindig, proven by the massive shindig that was his own wedding. Steve is about to tell Eddie this when the phone rings again.

“Bet you twenty bucks that’s Dustin.”

Steve scoffs jokingly. “If you want twenty bucks just ask, babe, of course that’s Dustin. Answer the phone.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him and picks up the phone. “Munson’s, how can I be of assistance?”

Steve hears Dustin’s distressed shrieking from his spot on the couch.

Eddie ends up inviting him over to debrief on the whole situation, because clearly Dustin needs someone to talk to about it. He stays for three entire hours, leaving with a groggy yawn at midnight. Steve and Eddie go to bed immediately afterwards, flopping into bed without brushing their teeth.

Steve has Eddie tucked under his arm, head on his chest. They’re both almost asleep when Eddie picks his head up, looking at Steve.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Steve asks.

Eddie blushes a little bit before nipping at Steve’s jaw. He’s used to Eddie chomping on him as a sign of affection, thankfully.

“We still haven’t gone on our real adult date yet.” He has a cute little frown on his face that Steve puts a crick in his neck to kiss away.

“That’s true. I’m looking forward to being wined, dined, and-”

“If you say sixty-nined I will break up with you.”

They both burst into a fit of giggles knowing it isn’t true.

So their date is rescheduled (for the third time) for this weekend. Steve prepares himself for yet another reschedule, for something to pop up and block them, but it never does. Robin volunteers to take Zoe for the night as soon as Steve calls her. He’s initially calling just to complain that the first real, established date of theirs keeps getting pushed around, but as soon as she hears ‘date’ come out of Steve’s mouth she squeals.

“Does that mean I can take Zoe for the night? Please, please, ple-”

Steve smiles, laughing. “You’ll have to ask Eddie, but I can’t imagine he’ll say no.” He can visualize her fist-pumping at the pseudo-permission.

“Nice! So you’re going on an adult date. Does this mean you’ll be doing adult things afterward?”

Steve turns bright red, even though he’s alone in his own apartment. “I hope so,” he says, uncharacteristically meek.

“So you honest to god haven’t done anything?”

His cheeks burn. “I didn’t say that.”

“Elaborate.”

Steve sighs. “We’ve done stuff on the couch twice now.”

Robin’s eye roll is damn near audible. “Stuff? What are we, eighteen?”

“Jesus, Rob, I gave him a handjob and he blew me two weeks ago, is that what you wanted?”

Robin snorts. “I suppose. I’m still surprised you haven’t been fucking like rabbits, but whatever. Hopefully you get to it after your dinner date.”

Steve sighs dreamily at the thought of getting Eddie in bed. “Hopefully.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go before you start jerking off at thought of fucking him. Goodnight, Sneeze.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “I would never do that, and you know it. Goodnight, Cardinal, love you.”

“Love you too, dingus.”

–

Friday comes, and Steve couldn’t be more excited. He’s counting the seconds until five o’clock rolls around and he can go straight to Eddie’s. Robin picked Zoe up from school today; she called the day after her call with Steve and demanded to take her for the night into Saturday, they’re going to the zoo and she’ll bring Zoe back Saturday evening.

Steve’s date clothes are in the backseat of his car, a mustard yellow sweater and dark jeans that he knows make his ass look great. He wore his black dress shoes to work today, but he brought his favorite Converse, the black hi-tops that he saves for looking nice without being too dressy. He’s been itching to see Eddie all day, his skin tingling whenever he thinks of Eddie’s sweet promises of flowers and dinner and candles. It’s been a while since someone did those things for him and meant it.

So he suffers through his work day, handing off his notes to the intern who comes every Friday from Indy and drones on about how difficult being an intern is. Which, obviously Steve knows that so he does himself the courtesy of half-listening so he doesn’t lose it. He takes a call from Alan, there’s a meeting at the office on Tuesday at four so he’s getting out early that day, and as soon as the clock hits five he punches out and all but runs to his car.

]He gets to Eddie’s at 5:30 sharp, taking the stairs two at a time for four floors until he’s breathless at Eddie’s door. He’s not as athletic as he used to be, doesn’t need to be these days, so he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth until he’s breathing normally and knocks on the door. He should’ve known Eddie would be standing right there.

The door flies open on the first knock, Eddie beaming and holding a bouquet of sunflowers, Steve’s favorite. He looks so handsome, hair pulled back in a braid, maroon henley on. Steve smiles, taking a deep breath to inhale Eddie’s cologne before he crashes into him in a rib-crushing hug.

“Well hello there, sunshine.”

Steve smiles into his chest, kissing his way up to Eddie’s face until he peppers pecks all over his cheeks and nose and forehead, making him giggle.

“You’re so cute, I love you,” Eddie says, giggling through Steve’s onslaught of smooches.

“I love you too,” Steve says to him, in between kisses. “I have a change of clothes with me.”

Eddie unlatches Steve’s arms from his middle, stepping aside to let him in the door. Steve takes the flowers when he’s inside, slipping off his shoes and kissing Eddie again, just because he can.

“Thank you for these, I love them,” he says, blushing.

“I knew you would. You don’t have to change if you don’t want to, you look very cute in your little suit pants.”

Steve pouts dramatically. “But I brought those jeans you like.”

Eddie puts the flowers on the kitchen table and drags Steve by the wrist to his room, Steve laughing the whole way.

The door is flung open, Eddie changing positions so he’s playfully pushing Steve into the room by his shoulders. He plops on the bed, situating Steve in between his knees. He starts with Steve’s navy blue tie, loosening it up before pulling it off and tossing it on the floor like it’s offending him personally.

“You do know I’m capable of doing this myself?” Steve’s smiling as he says it, making no moves to remove Eddie’s hands from his body.

“Shush,” Eddie says, “I wanna.”

Who is Steve to argue with that? He lets Eddie undress him as slow as he damn well pleases, untucking his shirt and unbuttoning it with loving, nimble fingers.

“My other clothes are in that tote bag,” Steve says, nodding toward the tote bag he had on his shoulder until Eddie had taken it off and tossed it on the bed.

“You shouldn’t have to wear clothes ever.” Eddie looks like he means it, his face a mix of seriousness and relaxation.

“But then I’d be cold,” Steve pouts.

Eddie snorts. “You’re a human furnace, Stevie. I woke up sweating the other day.”

Steve starts to apologize, but he’s interrupted by Eddie’s cold fingers slotting into his ribs as soon as he takes Steve’s shirt off. “Don’t apologize, honey. You know I’m always freezing.”

Steve smiles, knowing Eddie’s ice-cold feet always press against his calves in the middle of the night.

Now that he’s tits-out in the middle of the room, Eddie gets to work on the pants. Except he’s not doing anything, really, just sitting on the edge of the bed admiring Steve. He’s still getting used to being admired like this; with actual sweet feelings behind it, not just lust. It must show, because Eddie moves forward, pressing a sweet kiss into Steve’s tummy. He kisses all over Steve’s stomach as he undoes the black suit pants, sliding them down Steve’s thighs with a little bit of a struggle because his thighs have always been thick.

“Love these,” Eddie sighs, running his hands over Steve’s thighs once they’re free of their clothing confines.

Steve hums, letting Eddie’s hands roam wherever they want, which is mostly his thighs and ass. He can’t blame him, not really. He’s made peace with the fact that he doesn’t look like he used to and that that’s a good thing. He’s thirty, a grown man, no longer the basketball star, swim captain, monster-killer he used to be, and he’s grateful for that. It seems Eddie is too, judging by the way his head has ducked further down and he’s leaving a big, red hickey on the meat of Steve’s right thigh.

“Stay focused, baby. You promised me the full wine and dine experience.” Steve reaches back to tug at the braid in Eddie’s hair to get his full attention.

“But you’re pretty,” Eddie whines, pouting up at Steve.

Steve blushes. “Thank you sweetheart, I love you. Now dress me back up, please.”

Eddie huffs, reaching for the forgotten tote bag on the bed. He pulls the jeans out and groans.

“God, I love these.”

“I picked those out on purpose, you know. Wanted to drive you crazy a little bit.” Steve knows he’s a menace.

“You’re a shit, and I love you for it.” Eddie taps Steve’s leg, and he steps into the jeans, doing a little hop to get them over his ass, which makes Eddie groan. “Why did you get the best ass?”

“Jealous?” Steve asks, shivering when Eddie’s cold fingers brush over his skin as he does up the button and zipper.

“No, ‘cause I know it’s mine.”

How is he so comfortable saying shit like that out of nowhere? Steve knows it’s meant to make him blush, and it works like a charm every time. Eddie pulls the sweater out of the bag and smiles, slipping it over Steve’s head without mussing his hair. Steve snuggles into it, warm and comfortable.

The shoes are next and Eddie stands up, making Steve sit where he was. He smiles when he sees the yellow socks he has on, little rubber duckies on his feet.

“Cute,” Eddie hums, slipping the sneakers on and tying them up for Steve.

Eddie stays in his spot kneeling on the floor for a moment, before Steve stands up and bends down, tilting Eddie’s head up by his chin, admiring his face.

“You’re pretty. As much as I love seeing you on your knees for me like that, we gotta go, baby.”

Eddie pouts, but stands up nonetheless. “Are you trying to give me a boner before we have to go?”

Steve smirks. “Maybe.”

Luckily the restaurant isn’t that far away, just in the downtown strip of Hawkins. Steve smiles at Robin’s apartment when they pass it, like he always does. They get a decent parking spot and point out all the pretty colors of the fall trees as they walk. Eddie opens the door for Steve, ushering him inside with a hand to the small of his back.

They get a table in the back corner, just enough room between them and other people that it feels private. Eddie takes his coat off and, as promised, procures a little tealight candle from his inside pocket, lighting it with his Zippo he always keeps on hand even though he told Steve gave up cigarettes when Zoe was a baby.

The waiter thankfully does not yell at them, just gives the candle an odd look before asking what they want to drink. Despite not having had anything to eat since lunch, Steve gets wine, and so does Eddie, also getting water for both of them. They order spinach artichoke dip for an appetizer, which Steve never does, so it’s like a cheesy treat for both of them when it comes out.

“Not as good as yours, though,” Eddie says after swallowing.

“Flatterer.” Steve pretends to be annoyed, but the fond smile pops out anyway, both of them laughing at Steve not being able to keep up the facade.

“How was your day, sweetheart? Did you tally how many oil changes you had to do?” Steve reaches across the table to hold Eddie’s hand, which makes him blush a pretty pink.

“I think it was somewhere between ten and eighteen, I can’t remember. I had kind of a boring day, honestly. It was mostly oil changes and yanking sticks out of undercarriages. How about you? Is the youth of America doing well?” Eddie rubs his thumb across Steve’s knuckles and Steve relaxes into his seat even more than he has from the wine.

“The youth of America is doing alright, thank you for asking. I’m mostly working on school strategies and stuff right now, methods of organization and time management, but I think I’m being moved to the grief unit soon.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “The grief unit?”

“There’s a group of kids who have lost people in their lives, so it’s kind of like group therapy but for kids. They need another advisor, and I volunteered.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Eddie says, dipping a pita chip into the spinach dip with his free hand. “It takes a lot to volunteer for that kind of thing, and you’re the perfect person for it.”

The waiter comes back before he’s able to say thank you, and they order while still holding hands. Something in the back of his head told him Eddie would pull away once someone was looking, but Steve should’ve known better.

His favorite thing to get here is lemon pepper salmon and asparagus, and he knows what Eddie’s getting before the words ‘chicken parm sandwich’ leave his mouth.

Eddie squeezes his hand. “I got away with the candle,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

“That you did, babe.” Steve squeezes his hand right back.

They chat about things until the food comes, sipping from their wine glasses and enjoying their time they made sure to carve out for themselves. Steve feels Eddie’s ankle link around his own and grins, lightly kicking him.

“Footsie, Eds?”

Eddie blushes. “It’s called ‘physical affection’, thank you. I do have some dignity.”

The waiter, Anton, a nice kid, sets their plates down in front of them, telling them if they need anything else to let him know.

“Thank you so much, we’re all good for now,” Steve says, Eddie’s hand still in his. He sighs when they have to pull apart to eat. Eddie gives him a little squeeze before Steve pulls away first.

Dinner is delicious, Eddie making happy food noises across the table. It’s endearing, seeing him wiggle around in his seat eating one of his favorite foods.

“I see your dinner’s good,” Steve teases in between bites.

Eddie swallows and sticks his tongue out at him, ankle still hooked around Steve’s. “You think it’s cute when I make food noises, hush.”

Steve nods, taking another bite and making a little food noise of his own.

They both demolish their dinners, barely talking to each other over the food because it’s just that good. The waiter takes their plates, asks them if they want to top off their wine glasses.

Steve subtly shakes his head when Eddie looks over at him.

“We’re good, thank you. Do you still have that really good peanut butter cheesecake, though?”

“We do, actually. Two slices or one?”

Steve pipes up this time. “I’m good with sharing one.”

Eddie nods. “One piece of peanut butter cheesecake please.”

“Coming right up.”

Once the waiter walks away, Eddie smiles at Steve. “I did promise dessert.”

Steve smirks. “I do love cheesecake, but I was thinking of having something else for dessert.”

“Care to elaborate?” Eddie asks, sliding his foot up Steve’s leg.

“Nope,” Steve says, popping the ‘p’ on the end and grinning like a shit.

Eddie opens his mouth, presumably to tell Steve he is in fact a shit, but the cheesecake comes.

“Ooh, yum, thank you!” Eddie drums his fingers together at the sight of the cheesecake, grinning like a fool.

Steve can’t say he’s any less excited, cheesecake is his absolute favorite. They dig into it together, forks clinking when they go for the same bite at first, and it’s gone within two or three minutes. The waiter comes back for the plate and asks if it’s on one check or two, and before Steve can open his mouth, Eddie says, “Just one, please. Thank you.”

Steve pouts at him, crossing his arms. “Why don’t you let me do anything nice?”

Eddie reaches over, unfolding Steve’s arms and holding both his hands. “Because you do nice things for everyone, all the time, without even thinking about it. When we walked here, you took the road side to protect me. When Zoe has a nightmare, you always get up with me to comfort her. I do nice things for you because I want to, and because it’s important to me that you’re treated well.”

don’t cry in the restaurant, don’t cry in the restaurant, do NOT-

“Steve, honey, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Fuck.

“Because I love you, and I appreciate you, and no one’s ever been this nice to me, and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Eddie leans over the table and plants a kiss on Steve right in the restaurant. The waiter comes back with the bill, and Eddie gives him his credit card to get it taken care of.

“I love you too, honey. How about we get home so I can show you how much, hm?”

Steve is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about giving him boners in public.

–

They’re barely back in the door when Steve backs Eddie against the wall and kisses him like his life depends on it. Eddie flails a bit, arms jerking out to catch himself on the wall.

“Jesus, Steve,” Eddie says, directly into Steve’s lips because unless there’s an honest to god emergency, he will not be detaching himself from Eddie’s mouth anytime soon.

Steve kicks the door shut, grabbing Eddie by the shoulders and pressing him against it so he can lock it. He does the deadbolt, too, just in case.

Eddie has his bearings now, sliding a hand into Steve’s hair and pulling, making his head crane backwards. Steve lets out what would be a truly embarrassing moan if he cared about anything other than Eddie’s hands on him. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, letting one of them trail down to his ass and squeeze. Eddie loses his breath for a moment, opening his eyes and tipping his forehead against Steve’s.

“Let me be nice to you, baby. I just wanna show you how much I adore you, please? Please let me.” Steve doesn’t mean to sound so needy, he wanted to come off as more confident, but his blood supply has definitely left his brain in favor of a south-bound route.

Eddie kisses his breathless against the door, spit getting all over his mouth. “I adore you too, sweetheart,” he says, grabbing both of Steve’s hands and shoving them in his back pockets. That’s basically a handwritten invitation to play grab-ass, so Steve takes what’s on offer and squeezes Eddie’s ass hard, making Eddie smirk.

“C’mon. I wanna get you undressed asap.”

Eddie waggles his eyebrows. “Lead me to the bedroom then, Romeo.”

Steve kisses him quiet, walking backward to Eddie’s room (that’s beginning to feel a lot like their room) attached at the mouth. Thankfully, the door’s already open, otherwise Steve would’ve run smack into it from behind. He has a feeling Eddie would’ve caught him before he did, though.

He spins them so Eddie tumbles backward on the bed, his braid tucked under his neck. Steve stands at the end of the bed, kicking his own shoes off and untying Eddie’s so he can remove them, along with his socks. Next are his jeans, and Steve smirks at Eddie’s sweet, open face as he watches Steve pop open the button and pull down the zipper to find-

“Nothing under here, hm? Presumptuous.” Steve gives a gentle flick to the head of Eddie’s dick, making him jump and shiver. “Hips up, baby.”

Eddie obeys, lifting his hips off the bed so Steve can pull his jeans down and deposit them into the hamper. He pulls off his own sweater and jeans, piling them up by the door.

“You can put your clothes in the hamper, Stevie.” Eddie’s smiling, half naked with a semi beginning to bob against his stomach at the sight of Steve without pants on.

“I’ll do that in the morning, thank you baby. Do you still want your braid in?”

Eddie nods. “Don’t want my hair in my face.”

“Sounds good,” Steve says, dipping down to kiss Eddie. He kisses him slow and wet, just like he likes, biting down on his bottom lip and making him whine. He only separates himself from Eddie’s mouth to pull his shirt over his head and toss it into the hamper with some pretty impressive accuracy.

“Still got it, Harrington?” Eddie, the little shit, smirks up at him.

Steve takes a moment to let his eyes rake over Eddie’s body, pale, beautiful skin against his dark green comforter, and then he quietly spits in his hand and runs a long, smooth stroke up Eddie’s dick.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans, tipping his head back and away from Steve’s which just will not do. Steve starts a slow rhythm with his hand, kissing him the entire time, and Eddie’s letting out the sweetest sounds into his lips, uninhibited this time.

Where Steve is a talker, and can usually keep quiet if he needs to, Eddie is a noisemaker. He’s constantly moaning, or humming, or if he’s really worked up, whining. That’s Steve’s favorite sound, Eddie whimpering his name. That’s what he’s going for now with his slow, deliberate movements. He wants to take Eddie apart entirely and piece him back together until the sun comes up.

Well, maybe not that long. Steve needs his beauty sleep, after all.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. How’s that feel? Is there anything you want?” Steve looks him in his big, brown, beautiful eyes and resists the urge to kiss him lest he have to close his eyes. He wants to stare at Eddie forever.

He expects Eddie to say something along the lines of ‘feels nice, thank you for asking’ or something else, but no.

“Did you take, like, a handjob class or something, because jesus christ, Stevie,” is what comes out of his mouth instead.

Steve cackles, but doesn’t stop touching him. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, my masters is in dick wrangling.”

“Dick wrangling? You sound like a deranged bisexual cowboy.”

Steve tips his invisible hat. “Howdy, partner.”

Eddie’s laugh fills the entire apartment, loud and brash and happy. His legs curl up into his body like a roly-poly, which makes it a little more difficult for Steve to keep to his current task, but he’ll survive somehow. When Eddie starts going red from cackling like a hyena at Steve’s ridiculousness, Steve gives him a squeeze to get his attention. Eddie’s laugh turns into a long, drawn out moan that has Steve’s brain melting out of his fucking ears, but he manages to focus. He picks up the pace by just a hair and starts talking to Eddie.

“I’m glad you think I’m the world’s most entertaining boyfriend, baby, but I need a check-in. Will you tell me how you’re doing, please?”

Eddie’s eyes are owlish when he looks up at Steve, and his face is chock-full of emotion. Steve just hopes it’s the good kind.

“I’m doing good, honey, thank you.” He wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pressing his nose into Steve’s. “Love you,” he whispers.

Steve smiles, trying to gain focus in his vision when he’s this close to Eddie’s sweet face. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Eddie opens his mouth and closes it again, hesitant.

“Say what you need to say, Eds, it’s alright.”

Eddie’s face softens like butter. “There’s lube in the top dresser drawer, under the socks. There’s also, um. Condoms. In there.” His cheeks bloom scarlet red and Steve ducks down to kiss them.

“Got it. Give me two seconds, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Eddie nods and Steve clambers rather ungracefully off the bed, ignoring the fond snickering coming from a very naked Eddie. He finds everything rather easily, even with his dick screaming for his attention between his legs. When he turns around again, Eddie’s repositioned himself against the pillows, legs splayed open, with his hand moving slowly over his dick.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, scrambling to get back on the bed. Eddie just smiles and takes his hand away so Steve can replace it with his own, hovering over him while supporting his own weight with one hand. He’s right in between Eddie’s legs, which is where he thinks he’s meant to be. Like, cosmically. He tells Eddie as much and he just laughs and reaches for the lube, squeezing some out onto Steve’s hand.

“Keep touching, please,” he sighs, settling back into the pillows.

“Good boy, sweetheart. You know I love it when you’re so polite,” Steve croons from his spot over Eddie.

Eddie smiles dopily and nods, making his braid frizzy with flyaways. “I know.”

Steve has to kiss him, he just has to, so he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips. Eddie sighs dreamily into it, opening his mouth for Steve to take.

The lube, while helpful, has made things a slippery slope so to speak. It’s dripping off of Eddie’s dick, making slick sounds every time Steve’s hand glides over it, and when Steve picks up the pace a bit more, his hand slips, and-

“Oh,” Eddie moans, tilting his hips up when Steve’s pinky slips over his hole.

Steve goes dumb. He’s sure there’s some sort of scientific phenomenon happening right now where all of his brain cells stop working all at once. He’s just hovering over Eddie, pinky moving in small up and down motions as he works over Eddie’s dick with the same slick hand. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck again and pulls softly at the back of his hair.

“Can I- can I have it?”

Steve’s brain snaps back to life upon hearing Eddie’s needy voice.

“Have what, sweet thing? Gotta use your words, babe.”

Eddie whines, unsatisfied with that answer. Steve just keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it’s irritating Eddie to the point of bratiness.

“You know what I want, Steve, c’mon.” He sounds so hot when he gets a little bitchy.

“Maybe I just wanna hear you say it. Did you think about that, baby? That hearing you ask me for my fingers inside you makes me harder than a fucking rock? I know you can feel it.”

Steve’s dick has been bobbing onto Eddie’s stomach since he got back on the bed, hard and dripping and angry red.

Eddie goes visibly dick-dumb at the mention of Steve’s. “Yeah, I fuckin’ feel it, baby. S’ big.”

“Mm-hmm. You’ll need my fingers first before you can have the rest. So ask like a good boy, and I’ll let you have them. All you have to do is use your words.”

Steve loves having Eddie like this. Pliant and needy and honey-sweet. He loves bratty Eddie too, don’t be mistaken, but something about Eddie so willingly listening to him and letting himself go just gets Steve.

Eddie takes a deep breath, one that hitches when Steve squeezes him again. “Fuck, can I please have fingers? Want em’, want em’ so bad, Stevie, want you to make me forget my own fuckin’ name.”

If Steve ever denies Eddie that, he’s clearly lost the plot.

He smiles saccharine sweet at Eddie. “Hand me the lube please, baby.” Eddie fumbles around for the tube, having lost it in the haze of the adoring handjob he was receiving. He gives it to Steve with a shaking hand.

“Are you nervous, honey?”

Eddie twists his mouth up. “Kind of? It’s just been a while, is all. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Steve lubes his first finger, ducking down to kiss Eddie on the cheek. “What would be embarrassing? It’s just me, Eds, and I’d never laugh at you, ever.”

Eddie frowns a little. “I know. I just don’t want to like, immediately come or be too tight, or anything else.”

Steve repositions himself so he’s laying on his side with Eddie still on his back. He props himself up on his elbow and uses his non-sticky hand to run his thumb over Eddie’s cheek.

“If you immediately come, it’ll be so hot I’ll black out, first of all. And if you’re too tight, we can either work through it together or do something else. Obviously it’s your body, and if you don’t want to do this-”

“No, no I definitely want to. I just have chronic anxiety.” Eddie gives him a tilted smile, passing it off as a joke. Steve will let him have this one.

Steve kisses his temple. “Relatable. Do you want me to touch you again for right now, and then you can let me know when you want a finger?”

Eddie nods, face much more relaxed. “That sounds good, honey, thank you.”

“Of course, baby. I love you, you know,” Steve says, starting up the slow rhythm he began with.

“I love you, too,” Eddie says quietly. It’s just for the two of them, whispered in the lamplight of Eddie’s room in a sweet moment. Steve thinks his heart might burst.

He keeps the speed of his hand on Eddie consistent, a slow, wet drag that has him moaning sweetly into the warm air of his room. He’s wriggling against the comforter, back arching up and coming down every thirty seconds or so. Steve watches his face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort or anxiousness, but all he sees is his eyes closing as Steve hits a particularly sensitive spot and opening again, immediately searching out Steve’s gaze.

“Can I have one, please?” Eddie’s needy, it’s obvious in his slightly higher pitched voice that comes out in a half-whisper.

Steve shimmies himself down so he can reach better, kissing down Eddie’s torso as he goes. “Of course you can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking so nicely, you sound so pretty.”

Eddie blushes bright red, smiling ear to ear at Steve’s praises. He takes a deep breath and opens his legs wider, blushing even more when he catches Steve staring at the pretty pink-tan color of him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie jokes, shifting around a bit.

Steve groans. “Don’t tempt me, I’ll get the camera right now, lube hand and all.”

Eddie smiles at his ridiculousness, then opens his legs even wider and clears his throat. Steve bats at his thigh and giggles at him. “Subtlety is not your specialty, baby. You know you’re gonna get what you want. Do you need to take another deep breath?”

Eddie shakes his head no, but then does it anyway.

“Great job, sweet boy. You ready?”

Eddie nods, says, “yes,” quietly. Steve kisses the side of his stomach where his head is, squeezing a dollop of lube over Eddie, just in case. The cold makes him squirm, and Steve has the urge to bite him, so he does. Eddie whines, high and needy, and Steve takes the opportunity to slip his finger in to the first knuckle. He’s still watching Eddie’s face, despite having the skin of his stomach in his mouth, sucking a big, red hickey into him. He releases the skin with a wet pop, and Eddie’s eyes are screwed shut.

“How we doing, honey?” Steve asks, using his free hand to rub Eddie’s cheek.

“Good, M’ good, just- just feeling a lot, you know?” His eyes open back up, looking very determinedly at the ceiling.

“Like, physically, or mentally?” Steve’s number one concern is Eddie, all the time, no matter what. Especially right now, when he’s spread-eagle on his bed with a finger inside him.

“Both, I think? I’m good, I promise, you’re okay to, like, move.”

Steve nods against his skin, slipping the rest of his finger in slowly. Once Eddie’s adjusted, he crooks it and starts slowly finger-fucking him. “Does this feel good?” He asks.

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie moans, hips rolling against Steve’s finger. “Want another.”

Steve nips at his stomach. “Already? Are you sure?” Steve’s been around the fingering block a time or two hundred, and he just got one finger in him.

“Please? Want it to burn a little.” Eddie’s giving him big, earnest puppy-dog eyes, and Steve is a weak, weak man.

He pulls his one finger out, making Eddie pout down at him until he drips some more lube onto the second one. “If I hurt you at all, I want you to say so. Got it?”

Eddie nods frantically as Steve presses both fingers in, both of them moaning at the feel of it.

“You feel so good, baby, so warm and wet and fucking tight, can’t wait to get my dick in here,” Steve babbles.

It spills out of his mouth without him really being aware of it, and Eddie tosses his head back, forehead pressed against his pillow as Steve starts the crook and movement of his fingers. He’s on the hunt for the sweet spot now, wanting to get Eddie making as much noise as humanly possible. He casts a brief mental apology to the neighbors and gets to work.

He slides his fingers down a bit, so he’s not fully sheathed inside Eddie, and makes a ‘come here’ motion that makes Eddie damn near launch himself off the bed. Bingo.

“Aww, baby, did I get it?” Steve coos, rubbing into his spot with pressure now, Eddie meeting the movement halfway with his hips. He fucks him in earnest then, a consistent forward and back rhythm that hits Eddie’s prostate every single time. Steve looks down to his dick and he’s dripping fucking buckets, running down his shaft and onto his hips. Steve scoots down the mattress a bit further, without disrupting his fingers, and licks it up.

“Fuck, Steve, baby, honey, oh my fucking god,” Eddie says, his back lifting off the bed and coming back down, hips rocking into Steve’s fingers. Steve tries to focus his vision, his glasses came off with his sweater, and he sees that Eddie’s fucking drooling. He speeds up his fingers, and Eddie lets out the sluttiest noise Steve has ever heard in his fucking life.

“Fuck, you feel that good baby? You feel so good you’re whining? Sounds so beautiful, baby, all those noises you’re making, I love them so much. Love you so much, my baby, my sweet angel boy.”

Eddie squirms under his praises, his sweet red face glowing under the lamp light of the room. “I fucking- ah, love you too, Steve, fuck, love you so much. You always make me feel so good.”

Steve smiles up at him, letting the pre-come that drips down Eddie’s hips land on his cheek. He scissors his fingers and Eddie lets out a loud, long moan that sets Steve’s whole body on fire. His dick feels like it’s too tight almost, the movement of skin against Eddie’s making him pulsate. It definitely keeps him on track. As much as he loves fingering him, Eddie did tell him to grab the condoms for a reason.

“You let me know whenever you’re ready, okay sweetheart? Want you to-”

Eddie cuts him off. “Now, now now now, fuck me please.” He isn’t making any moves to be more polite about it, but Steve understands. He’s kind of been hitting Eddie’s prostate over and over again for a hot minute.

“I got you, baby, don’t worry. I gotta take my fingers out, okay?”

Eddie whines, petulant, and Steve bites his hip. “Be good. If I’m giving you everything you want, you need to be good, okay?”

Eddie sighs, nodding, and makes a little kissy face. “Kiss, please.”

Steve scoots back up the bed so his face is level with Eddie’s, giving him a long, open-mouthed kiss while he slowly pulls his fingers out of him. Eddie whimpers right into his mouth, and Steve can feel it in his fucking teeth.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’ll get me back in a second, I promise. Still doing good?”

Eddie presses his forehead into Steve’s and nods. “I’m doing great, thank you for asking. My super hot boyfriend just fingered me within an inch of my life, so I can’t complain.”

Steve giggles, pressed up against Eddie from forehead to nose. “I would hope not,” he says, ripping open a condom packet and shifting to lay on his back so he can roll it on easier.

Eddie watches with rapt attention while Steve rolls the condom on, his dick curving up to his belly. He tries not to touch too much, he knows he’s sensitive as all hell when he’s worked up like this. Once it’s on, he squeezes some lube onto it and gives himself just one long stroke to spread it out. Eddie’s legs spread out a little further, and it looks like it happens involuntarily.

Eddie’s eyes are wide. “I’m gonna die. Death by dick. Holy shit. How did I get that thing down my whole fucking throat?”

Steve repositions himself so he’s hovering over Eddie again, making sure to give himself a good angle to line himself up at. “I asked myself that question too, actually. We’ll go nice and slow, alright? No dick deaths here.”

It shouldn’t kick up his ego, but it does, even though it’s no secret that Steve is… very much proportionate.

Okay, fine, he’s hung like a fucking horse alright? It is what it is.

He uses one hand to line himself up, the tip of him just barely pressing against Eddie’s cute, pink hole. “Is it alright if I-”

“Steve, if you are not fully in my guts in the next two minutes, you are sleeping on the couch.”

Well, alright then.

“You’re still pretty even when you’re bitchy, just so you know.” Steve presses inside him while he says it, and the gasp he gets is from the stretch, not the comment. He sheaths another inch or two inside of Eddie when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks down, and Eddie’s panting, eyes wide.

“Gimme a second, okay?” Eddie asks, breathless. He looks like he’s trying so hard to focus, but just can’t manage it. Steve smooths his hand over Eddie’s cheek, cupping his jaw and leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Take all the time you need, baby, we’ve got all night.” He thumbs over Eddie’s cheek and kisses his nose before nuzzling into his neck.

Eddie takes a deep breath, snuggling down into the comforter underneath him (which is going to need a wash) before kissing the side of Steve’s head. Steve feels it when Eddie rolls his hips down to test the waters, and the wet heat of Eddie on him makes him moan into Eddie’s ear.

“God, you feel so good, Eds, making me feel so good.”

Eddie reaches back and tugs on his hair, and he whines into Eddie’s neck.

“Go ahead and move, honey. Wanna give us both what we need.”

He nods into Eddie’s neck and pushes himself the rest of the way inside, both of them groaning the entire time. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of him, Steve has to concentrate very hard on not coming. Eddie certainly isn’t making it any easier, letting out cute little mewling noises and clenching down on him for a couple seconds before relaxing again. Once Steve’s sure he’s not going to shoot off as soon as Eddie does so much as breathe, he asks.

“Can I move, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Eddie says, his voice rough.

Steve pulls back a bit and presses forward, rocking into Eddie’s body as gently as he can. That’s before Eddie reaches back and pulls on his waist when he fucks into him.

“You want it faster, baby? Sounds good,” Steve says, and immediately snaps his hips forward. It punches a slutty whine out of Eddie that makes Steve go fucking feral, sucking a giant hickey into his neck while he punches his hips forwards and back at a blinding pace.

Eddie’s been reduced to moans, no words leaving his pretty red lips. He’s just making pure noise, and Steve’s dick is punching it out of him. He just barely breathes out Steve’s name, but it catches his attention immediately, pulling off of his neck to look at his face.

"What’s going on, baby? Everything okay?” Steve keeps the same pounding pace as he checks on him because he has a feeling-

“Gonna come, honey, wanna come so bad, please let me. Please?” Eddie can barely talk, and Steve is so, so in love with him.

“Good job, baby, asking me so nicely. Go ahead, sweetheart, you can come for me, I want to see it. Want my baby boy to feel so good.”

Eddie nods frantically, his braid an absolute mess on the pillows. “Thank you, Stevie, thank you so much, oh my g- ah, ah, aah!”

His body draws up tight, legs locking around Steve’s thighs, and then he’s tossing his head back and painting his entire stomach white. Steve didn’t even have to touch him, just fuck him, and isn’t that something? Eddie clenches down on Steve while he’s coming, holding onto his back for dear life, clawing into Steve’s skin, but Steve couldn’t give less of a shit. He’ll wear Eddie’s claw marks proudly.

“Such a good boy, coming so much for me,” Steve pants, swiping a finger through the absolute mess on Eddie’s stomach and feeding it back to him. Eddie sucks Steve’s finger down like it’s his dick, hollowing his cheeks and drawing off of it with a wet pop.

“What about you, honey? You feeling alright?” Eddie says it with a teasing note in his voice, like he knows exactly how good Steve feels.

“Feel so fuckin’ good baby, it’s like you were made for me. M’ so close, Eddie, baby. So fuckin’ close.” Steve slows his pace a little, feeling bad about using Eddie after he’s already finished, but he groans when Eddie chases after him with his hips.

“You don’t have to feel bad about using me, Stevie. It’s what I’m here for. Made for you, remember?” Eddie smirks, yanking on Steve’s hair, and Steve is gone.

“Fuck, Eddie, jesus christ, that- oh,” he moans, spilling white hot into the condom. Eddie lets Steve fuck him through it, chasing the aftershock shivers until Eddie whines.

“Steve, Steve, honey, too much.”

Steve nods, slowing down and finally stopping. He takes a few panting breaths, kisses Eddie, and promptly plops on top of him after very gently pulling out.

It takes them both a few minutes to make any movement at all, just laying with each other and breathing. But the feeling of the condom still on makes Steve’s brain itch, so he has to move sooner rather than later. He lifts himself off of Eddie, who makes a disgruntled noise about it, and ties off the condom before getting up to put it in the bathroom trash can. While he’s in the bathroom, he grabs two washcloths out of the cabinet under the sink and wets them with warm water before taking them back into the bedroom.

Eddie has rolled onto a clean spot on the comforter, staring at the ceiling and blinking.

“Earth to Eds? I’ve got a washcloth for you, babe.” Steve goes over to the bed, sitting down and wiping Eddie clean, enjoying the happy noises he makes.

“I think you fucked my soul out of my body,” Eddie says, in awe. Steve snickers, tossing the washcloth in the hamper before giving himself a perfunctory wipedown with his own cloth.

“I’m glad… I think.” Steve lifts Eddie’s ass up with one hand while he pulls the comforter out from under him with the other, setting Eddie back down and balling it up to stuff into the hamper as well. “I can take this down to the laundry tomorrow, if you want.”

Eddie flaps a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it, honey, I got it.”

Steve smiles at the sweet, but slightly vacant look on his face. He grabs two pairs of underwear and two t-shirts from the pajama drawer in Eddie’s dresser and quickly dresses himself before slipping the underwear up Eddie’s legs and securely onto his hips.

“Do you want the shirt, sweetheart?”

Eddie nods, but makes no move to sit up. Steve just laughs under his breath, sitting him up against the pillow stack against the headboard and slipping the worn black shirt over his head and arms.

“There we go, babylove. Let’s crawl into bed, yeah?”

Eddie nods again, slithering down under the sheets and rubbing his legs together while Steve turns out the lights and cracks a window. It smells like sex and sweat in the room, and Steve doesn’t really want to marinate in that. He slides into bed behind Eddie, who’s breathing has already deepened and evened out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s middle, pressing his face into Eddie’s back.

“Hey, baby?”

Eddie stirs a little. “Yeah?” He’s already so sleep-soft.

Steve smiles, happy that what he’s about to say isn’t causing him any anxiety at all.

“I think I’d like to stay with you my whole life.”