Chapter Text
. . .
It's day 98.
98 grueling days of Steve touching himself to thoughts of Eddie Munson.
No no no, wait that sounds bad. That makes it sound like it’s his fault— it's not.
For some reason the bastard with his pretty hair and his soft eyes finds his way into Steves thoughts, and doesn’t fucking leave.
Okay, so it goes like this. Every time he wants to release some steam, you know, feel himself up, it starts off fine. Perfectly normal. Great event.
He often begins thinking of some famous actress, maybe a girl he talked to at the video store, hell even Nancy sometimes. And it's great, absolutely perfect. Really just seems to be getting the job done, you know?
But every time, every fucking time Steve gets close (its usually when Nancys nimble fingers toy with the delicate buttons on her shirt, popping them open one by one) something absolutely infuriating happens. Her once feminine, soft fingers morph into long, ringed fingers. Masculine fingers. Eddies fingers.
In his fantasy he looks up, confused to see Eddie sitting in front of him toying with the single necklace that rests on his long neck.
He watches in rapt attention as Eddie's shirtless form slowly starts to move his annoyingly attractive hands to rest over Steve's chest, and the only thing he can seem to do is watch.
He looks down to where Eddie's hand rests, soothing circles with his thumbs over his chest, and feels him slowly moving down. He looks at Eddie then, and watches as he slowly leans forward on the hand that isn’t currently resting on Steve's chest. The more crowded he gets, the more the feeling of anticipation consumes him. The slow, taunting pace is killing him.
Finally, Eddie leans into Steve's ear, whispering, “Be good for me now, would ya?” He pulls back just enough to be face to face with Steve, shining his big brown eyes at him, “Can you do that for me, pretty boy?” He asks, fanning his breath over Steve's own lips.
The sinful words flowing out of Eddie's mouth cause him to feel completely at a loss. He knows he can’t fight it anymore, and truthfully, right now he would do anything Eddie asked him to.
He feels heat all over his body, and is hyper aware of the fingers toying with the hem of his boxers, “y- um yeah.” He says dumbly, at a loss for words.
Eddie hums, “tsk tsk, now that’s just not quite good enough is it Steve?”
The mention of his name sends him further into a frenzy, causing his breath to turn shaky and a slight squeak escape his throat, “Please, Eddie. Please just- you’re killing me here.” He whines, bucking up when a smirk crosses Eddie's face.
He watches as Eddie slowly tilts his head to the left, teasing him, “Woah there Stevie, we’re getting ahead of ourselves a bit now aren’t we?” He taunts, dipping his thumb under the band of Steves boxers just long enough before pulling it back out again.
He is breathing heavily now, “Please, just- what do you want me to do? I'll do it, I promise. Just please- Jesus.”
He watches as the long-haired boy smiles at him, briefly looking down at Steve's obvious print before looking back up again, “I want you to tell me what you want. It's that simple, pretty boy. Just say the words out loud.” He finishes with a grin.
Steve feels his face flush even more so than before, because he knows if he says it out loud it will be too real. Eddie would know what he wants, and that is terrifying.
He takes a deep breath, shuddering when Eddie dips his thumb below the band again, this time raising it back and popping It against Steve's stomach.
He shakily raises his hand to rest on top of Eddies, moving it down until it finally rests over his length through his boxers, “I want…” He gulps, looking him in the eyes now, “...you to touch me.” he says timidly.
He watches Eddie's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, and a smile appears on his face, “As you wish, my pumpkin.” He moves to straddle Steve, running the hand he was previously leaning on through Steve's hair and gently tugging to angle his face towards him.
Steve's hands are running up and down his legs and hips, slightly annoyed that he's still in shorts, but happy nonetheless because he is finally, finally, moving Steve's boxers down with the hand that isn't tugging at his hair.
He watches as Eddie slowly pulls down his boxers, slipping a hand inside whe-
“Fuck!” Steve yelles, opening his eyes to morning light filtering through his curtains. He looks down to see he has yet another mess to clean up–caused by the infamous Eddie Munson.
He sighs and cleans himself up, sauntering to the bathroom for a shower. He has a shift with Robin today at Family video, and he has to be there at 11:00 to open up.
He ceremoniously scratches a notch into the chips of paint on his wall, marking the 99th day he has had to suffer his own inner thoughts of Eddie Munsons stupid eyes in his fantisies.
He quickly gets ready, makes himself food, and starts driving to work.
With soft music playing in the background, he allows his mind to wander…
He can't seem to understand why he keeps having these weird fantasies about one of his good friends. I mean, they saved the world together and thats undoubtedly brought them closer, but Steve isnt gay . Not that he has anything against it, his bestfriend is a lesbian for fucks sake, its just that he’s simply into women.
He knew he was in love with Nancy. He enjoyed being with her, physically and emotionally, and even had his heart genuinely broken by her. There's just no way that can be fake.
No way. He should probably talk to Robin about this.
. . .
It's been 4 hours of working with his best friend, and he still can seem to work up the nerve to start a conversation about his problem.
Problem being Eddie, if that wasnt fucking obvious.
“Okay, spill it. What the hell is wrong with you.” Robin's voice snaps him back to reality. He looks over to where she is standing. She's leaning on the front of the counter facing Steve, who is repeatedly clicking an ink pen.
He raises his eyes to her, noticing mostly annoyance with a hint of concern on her face, “Um, yeah nothing.” He sighs, “Sorry, just distracted.”
Shit shit shit, why didn't he tell her. That would have been a perfect–
“Steve Harrington, if I know one thing about you, it's that when you make that little noise it's most likely bull shit.” She says, crossing her arms.
He feels his eyebrows crease, “What? What ‘little noise’” he scoffs.
“You like, sigh. But it's different because you make a little noise- okay look, point is there is something wrong. Spill. It.” She raises an eyebrow.
He feels himself slumping on the stool, and continues clicking the pen rapidly, “Okay look, there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about.” He starts, not being able to hold eye contact, “So I kinda feel like I'm going crazy–and don't laugh, Okay?” He looks up, trying to convey a message of sincerity.
He watches her face soften, “Of course not.” She speaks softly.
He blows a raspberry, scraping his hands over his face, and just as he was about to start telling Robin about his problem, the doorbell rings. He feels himself groan internally as he looks up to see- oh for fucks sake- the one and only Eddie.
He feels his face flush as the man strides to the counter, greeting Steve and Robin as usual. Everyone has gotten closer since last year, especially the older group of adults. They all often hang out, usually at Steve's place for the pool and the alcohol. It's been a rough few years, and they are the only ones who truly understand each other.
He looks at Eddie now, he's got his hair thrown into some sort of messy bun at the base of his head, tied up with the black and white bandana he usually wears in his pocket. He’s dressed in his usual black jeans, but instead of a band tee he's got a white tank top with his denim vest over it.
“Helloo, Stevie. Earth to Pumpkin.” He says as he snaps his fingers in front of Steve's face, pulling him out of the trance he was in.
He feels a blush rise up his neck, but attempts to cover it up with an eye roll, “Are you ever going to stop calling me that? It was one time Munson.”
He hums, seemingly thinking it over in his head, “hmm, no I don't think so. I told you I'd never let you live it down Harrington.” He smirks and turns back to Robin to finish whatever conversation they’d started while Steve wasn't paying attention.
See this is what is fucking with him. Interacting with him, and feeling flustered everytime he comes around. And the pumpkin thing, I mean it was one time, honestly.
“Well anyway, “ He hears Eddie say as he tunes back into their conversation, “Since you guys work on Friday, why don't we all just push the party back to Saturday? I'm sure it would work better for Nancy and Johnathan too.”
“What party?” Steve asks.
Robin looks over to him with a bored expression on her face, “Oh I don't know, maybe the party is Steve. You know the party we have been planning for weeks.” She looks at him expectantly.
He simply raises an eyebrow, still confused about whatever party they were supposed to be going to.
“Jesus Christ Harrington, the fucking anniversary party. You know, the one where we celebrate killing Vecna?” Eddie rattles, seemingly surprised that Steve was so unaware of what day was coming up.
“Oh…I guess I didn't realize it's been so long.” He mumbles.
“Well, I'm glad you know now because we are having it at your place.” Robin smiles.
Steve feels himself smile a little, looks up at his two friends and gives a small nod.
“Well, now that that is all sorted out,” Eddie stands up from his previous lean on the counter, “Which one of you shits are coming with me to stock up on alcohol and weed?” He grins, rubbing his hands together and shifting his eyes between the two others.
He doesn't even have to look up to know that Robin is the one groaning, “Ugh, common Eddie you know that guy you buy from sketches me out. No way, Steve will go with you.”
Steve snaps his head up at this, heat rising to his face at the thought of having to spend time alone with the man standing in front of him, who is currently sending him a smirk. He tries to think of something to say, but for some reason his brain just turns to goo.
Eddie observes him for a few moments, analyzing his features and stretching his own smile to one of mischief, “Looks like it's just you and me, Sugar.” He winks and claps Steve on the shoulder, spinning on his foot to head out of the store. Just as he reaches the door he turns around to lean on the glass, holding searing eye contact with Steve as he says, “Pick me up at 7:00 tomorrow morning biscuit, bright and early.” He grins, finally falling against the door to open it and turning to walk out.
Steve just stands there speechless, mouth agape, and staring at the spot Eddie previously occupied at the door. He doesn't realize how long he's been frozen until he hears Robin start to laugh, and snaps his head in her direction, “What?”
She just continues laughing, waving it off, “Nevermind, bud. What is it that you wanted to tell me?” She asks instead, raising an eyebrow.
He sighs, feeling as though he should just spit it out without thinking too much. He looks Robin in the eye, “I'm having weird fantasies about Munson, and they wont stop. Fix it.”