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He should be embarrassed, really. For feeling this way.
The little cat and mouse game they’d been playing sparked something inside him he’d never felt before and for weeks now, Eddie Munson hadn’t gotten off to anything but the thought of Steve Harrington.
Every time he looked at Steve he found another stupid detail about him that made butterflies erupt in his stomach.
Brown eyes he could drown in- framed by thick, dark lashes, those perfect lips pulled into a smirk that could set him ablaze, The way he ran his fingers through his stupidly infamous, perfect hair and somehow never messed it up. Harrington stood a good few inches taller than him- so he basked in getting to see the blush on his cheeks whenever he looked up at him. It brought out the light freckles dusting his gorgeous face.
So, safe to say Eddie was fucked.
He wished the attraction was solely physical, but Steve was kind and caring. He loved those idiot kids and rarely showed any less humanity to Eddie. He commanded a room when he needed to, but always let other people speak. Steve was a changed man from the asshole jock he once was. He nodded and smiled at Eddie in the halls, where once upon a time, he’d shove into him on purpose and laugh as he strolled on.
Every now and then he’d sit in on Hellfire Club. Dustin may have forced him to play but fuck- listening to him talk about fantasy role playing shouldn’t be that hot.
They’d developed a strange back and forth game of taunting between them over time. In every interaction there was a need to compete in some way, to piss the other off, push his buttons. The bickering was constant and the tension was undeniable.
If Eddie called Steve “King”, he’d get “Freak” in reply. If Steve rolled his eyes, he’d get a sly smirk back. They thrived off of the fight. Eddie did at least. It’s what made their friendship ‘fun’.
Truthfully, Eddie had never been hornier in his life. He’d jerked off almost daily for the last two weeks, the memory of one of their recent encounters fresh on his mind.
Eddie had sauntered into Family Video one afternoon, feeling cocky, and embarrassed Steve in front of Robin and three customers, bringing up an ugly story Dustin had shared with him in “confidentiality”. Steve’s eyes went dark once the customers had left. He leaned forward, gripping his jacket collar over the counter and whispered “I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Munson.” Leaving Eddie stunned and hard as a rock as he stormed off to the back room.
They didn’t talk much for a few days after that. Eddie usually made the move to talk to Steve, and he’d reply only out of courtesy. Eventually it seemed that he let It go, and let their ‘friendly competition’ return to normal- if not a bit more intensely.
But that day seemed to play on a constant loop in Eddie’s head. Every time he’d close his eyes he’d see the intense stare, feel his breath on his cheek, the feeling of knuckles brushing his collarbone.
Harrington rarely got rough. Maybe that’s why that specific memory turned him on every time. Eddie wanted him to get rough. With him.
His eyes darted across his room, from their previous place staring at the ceiling, and met the cold metal of the handcuffs hanging on his wall.
Was he that desperate?
His question found itself answered as he moved on autopilot from his chair, taking down the cuffs from their display against the otherwise plain section of the wall and tossing them to the bed.
Eddie eyed the bed, wondering how to best go about doing this while also trying to avoid thinking too hard and talking himself out of it.
He pulled his shirt over his head to distract from the internal debate and threw it onto the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his mind wander.
How would Steve have him?
His mind blanked. It was one thing to think about what you knew you liked. Eddie usually fucked for the sake of fucking- sure he was nice about it, but the physicality of it all was what made it appealing. He liked it rough, he was usually on top, he liked control and liked fighting for it.
But to think about what someone else liked? Someone you’ve never been with- someone you have a crush on? Different beast.
Steve was sappy. That much was obvious. Eddie almost rolled his eyes, imagining Harrington covering the bed in rose petals and lighting candles. He’d probably go slow- like his partner was delicate. Someone like the Wheeler girl. Eddie wasn’t delicate.
His mind wandered back to that day in the video store. The darkness in Steve’s eyes. He could almost see the flames dancing in the depths, his face flushed in anger, the slight shake in his hand as he held onto Eddie’s vest.
That wasn’t soft or slow. He didn’t treat Eddie like a delicate flower. Like precious fine China about to break. Steve had wanted to break him- and Eddie wanted to be broken.
The realization crashed into him, the feeling of his dick straining against his jeans becoming unbearable. He quickly stripped off the rest of his clothing and laid on the bed, taking the cuffs and their key with him.
His hands shook as he fumbled to unlock the handcuffs, moving to lay on his stomach, facing the headboard.
The tightening click of the first cuff, secured around his wrist, was startling. Would Steve want them tight? Tight enough to toe the line of pain and pleasure? Imagining Harrington’s eyes darkening as he watched the cool metal dig into the skin on Eddie’s wrists pulled a whine out of him, the decision being made.
Eddie reached over and grabbed the key, placing it under his pillow for easy access, before wrapping the handcuffs around one of the headboard posts and clicking it around his other wrist with a hiss.
With his arms bound, he shifted so that he lay flat on his stomach. Before he could let himself question just what the fuck he was about to do, he let Steve Harrington back into his thoughts.
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Munson.” Christ his voice. Eddie experimentally rolled his hips into the mattress, groaning into his pillow.
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Munson. Or I just might have to find a better use for it.” Now that was better. Fuck.
He thought about Steve pushing Eddie to his knees. Maybe in his bedroom- maybe behind the Family Video counter… the image shot a thrill through his spine. Eddie, kneeling on the rough carpet floor, letting Steve Harrington fuck his face, running fingers through his wild curls and whispering praise between stuttering breaths.
He jutted his hips into the mattress again, tugging on the cuffs at his wrists with a sharp moan.
He knew Steve wouldn’t treat him like porcelain, like a delicate thing. He’d know Eddie could take it, and he’d give it to him with pleasure.
Eddie found a steady rhythm of thrusting into the bed and trying to muffle his sounds into the pillow beneath him. The restraint on his wrists was cutting and the thought of them leaving bruises on his pale skin made him shiver.
He thought about his current position. Would he be fucking Steve or letting Steve fuck him? He was used to topping… the thought of flipping a power switch and having Harrington moaning and whining underneath him, begging for more- for his cock, had Eddie seeing stars. The great “King Steve” with tears in his eyes, pleading for release was nearly too much to bear.
Eddie had to slow his movements and catch his breath for a moment, on the brink of coming too soon for his liking before imagining a different scenario where the roles reversed.
Maybe Steve would have him just like this, fucking him from behind. He’d take his time, working Eddie open until he was whimpering before fucking him hard. Eddie had overheard enough party stories in school to know that Steve Harrington was well endowed. He’d know just what to do, just how fast to go, just what buttons to push to have Eddie crying out.
Steve liked to run his mouth enough that it was easy for Eddie to imagine him moaning filthy things in his ear and against his neck- maybe his lips too if he was flipped around. Obscene praise and degradation alike spilling out, leaving him panting and flushed from face to chest.
“You like that don’t you? Being split open on my cock? Fuck, sweetheart- you’re so good for me. So perfect-”
Eddie moaned, feeling his hands tremble against cool metal. A tear slipped down his cheek as he became more frantic, driving his dick into the mattress. He knew he must’ve looked like a wreck with his wrists rubbed raw, curls plastered to his forehead and tear tracks on his cheeks.
Steve would reach around their bodies, finally taking Eddie’s cock into his hand, stroking in time with his thrusts, pressing shockingly gentle kisses into the side of his neck.
“That’s a good boy, Eddie. You’re doing so good for me-“
Eddie felt the heat pool in his stomach. His arms were tired. His wrists kept pulling at the cuffs, the pain drawing more tears from his eyes, more cries from his lips.
Steve would bow his head, letting perfectly disheveled hair tickle his shoulder blades, panting into the space between them. He’d groan, the low noise cutting through the white static in Eddie’s brain.
“I’m so close baby- want you to come with me, please Eddie-“
There. He’d found the balance in power. Harrington may have been the one fucking into him, but he knew that he’d got Harrington wrapped around his finger. The pet names fell so easily from his pretty lips, as did the moans that followed. His hips stuttered and he pressed a kiss to the shell of Eddie’s ear.
“Come for me sweetheart, I know you’re close too. Good boy, just let go-“
Eddie's shoulders shook, sobs racking through him as he came harder than he ever had before. He jolted, waves of pain and pleasure rolling over him as his elbows bent- his aching muscles tugging hard at the handcuffs around his red wrists. He cried out, hips still thrusting into the bed, fucking himself through his orgasm.
He tried to grasp at thoughts of Steve’s praise, working him through the aftershocks, but all he heard was blissful nothingness. His ears were ringing, his vision was white.
His face felt burning hot, the last of his tears drying on his cheeks along with the sweat on his forehead. He just laid there for a moment, steadying his breathing and his heartbeat.
After regaining enough consciousness to open his eyes, he nudged his pillow to the side, reaching for the key to the handcuffs. Miraculously they opened, even with his shaking hands and bleary eyes.
Eddie rolled over onto his back with a groan, tenderly rubbing his sore wrists and pushing the dark curls off his face. It took more than a moment for reality to set in. Maybe longer than he would’ve liked. Steve wasn’t really with him in bed, and while usually it wouldn’t bother him, this time felt different.
But nothing had to change between them. They could keep on bickering like usual. Eddie could keep fantasizing about perfect hair and dark eyes in private- and if Steve asked about the purple bruises encircling Eddie’s wrists under the cuff of his vest in the morning… well, he could stay none the wiser.
As he drifted off into an easy sleep, Eddie realized that while he enjoyed having control, losing control wasn’t so bad either. Especially if he was losing it to Steve Harrington.
Yeah. He was fucked.