Work Text:
---
Eddie won’t shut up, so Steve pins his arms against his sides harder; lets his knees really dig in to his upper arms as he sits his full weight on his chest.
It’s not like he’s not asking for it, still talking shit after Steve told him to stop like, five times. He finds Eddie’s hanky and yanks, pulling it out of his back pocket as Eddie says something about when I get free—whatever. He’s not getting free.
Steve winds the hanky up, twisting it to make it into a makeshift rope, snapping it taut between his hands. Then he times it; when Eddie’s mid-word he shoves the fabric right between his teeth, pushing deeply into the corners of his mouth. Eddie yells, but he can’t get out of the hold Steve has him in, no matter how much he struggles.
There. It’s not peace, Steve didn’t make him quiet, but now maybe he’ll listen.
“You don’t know how to make anything easy on yourself, do you?” Steve asks, pushing a little harder. It’s gotta hurt, but Eddie’s not wincing—he just looks pissed.
“Mmpfff!”
Steve laughs, though he knows this isn’t supposed to be entertaining. It’s not really, it’s just interesting, that’s all—getting something as wily as Eddie wrestled down and stuck like this. He dominated him—not that Steve usually associates with himself with that, though between all of the physical contact, and the winning—the power he’s got here—he thinks he’s getting really into it.
“You could’ve just been nice to me,” Steve shrugs, letting the ends of his fists rest on the floor. The hanky might be chafing Eddie’s skin as it presses into his cheeks, and it’s a relief to let himself hope it does. “I know you know how.”
Eddie looks like he’ll start yowling if Steve lets him loose—so angry—but Steve’s basically doing him a favor. He always knew his big mouth was going to get him in trouble. He didn’t think it’d be with himself, but no matter how many blows he can let slide off of his self-esteem, even he’s got limits.
“You look good like this. Should wear it all the time,” he jokes.
Eddie starts trying to buck him off, and Steve wiggles his ass into his ribs.
“What? Feeling restless?” he asks while the veins in Eddie’s forehead start to show up with all of his effort. His face is so red too, and the way he’s glaring would probably make anyone else run for their lives.
Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve knows him well enough to know that even if he gets himself free, his revenge won’t be that bad. He doesn’t usually escalate. Hell, if he did what he usually does—just does the same... whatever back to him—Steve can take it.
Like, he wouldn’t really mind, if he wants to be totally honest with himself, if Eddie got the upper-hand and shoved his spit covered hanky into Steve’s mouth, as long as he defeated him fair and square.
Eddie’s legs are going wild, so he shuffles back, making sure he keeps his arms pinned with his knees as he sits down over Eddie’s hips. That pisses him off more; this whole thing is stealing Steve’s breath away—he realizes he’s grinning—exhilarated. Breathless laughter edges past his tongue, as he realizes, especially when Eddie keeps trying to yell at him and it’s all muffled—yeah, that’s hot. It’s hot.
Steve licks his lips and watches Eddie’s face. There’s peace in the strain of holding him down. This is hot. He can accept that. It’s not like he has to worry about his image around Eddie, he’s never bothered to try so hard to be cool and normal around him, so he’s not worried about him finding out about this. Steve already knows Eddie’s got some kind of thing for men, if how fast he read Robin’s lesbian energy wasn’t a fluke, and all of their secretive looks aren’t just them fucking with him.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, leaning down. It makes his ass shift back more and Eddie jolts. It’s been so fucking long since he’s had a body under him, writhing—usually trying to get closer, and loud for a better reason—that Steve knows he’s about to get hard. The way Eddie’s eyes go wide doesn’t help either, so Steve gives into an impulse; “Think you can get out of this?”
Eddie’s face whips back into anger, all of the shock gone.
“Pissed off because you know you can’t, aren’t you?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows at him in a way he knows pushes his buttons. “You’re all helpless against me. Guess you’ll just have to promise to be nice, and maybe I’ll let you go.”
Eddie shakes his head, then goes back to kicking his legs like that’ll get him anywhere. He manages to lift his hips like an inch off the ground, but Steve shifts back again, putting more weight on them, and that quickly exhausts his strength. His dick is hard now, but it doesn’t seem like Eddie’s noticed yet—he’s not sure if he’ll let him go when he does. Depends on how grossed out he is, probably.
For now though, Steve puts his face closer to Eddie’s and smiles. He wants to kiss him even if he doesn’t think he’d be able to kiss back like this—like if he wanted to—he can’t close his mouth and his tongue is trapped underneath the hanky.
“You’re not bad at this on purpose, are you?” he asks. He can hear himself flirting—with Eddie and with danger—but maybe Eddie can’t tell because his face doesn’t change. “Maybe you got me all riled up just so I’d have to do this. You love to provoke people... if you wanted to get your kicks with me you could’ve just asked, y’know.”
“Mmpffff!!!” Eddie argues, trying to pull his arms free again. Steve presses harder against them, flexing his inner thighs, which makes his dick jump with the effort too, and he bites his tongue so he doesn’t groan at the pressure.
“Are you getting off on this? Be honest, Munson.”
Eddie kicks his heel against the floor in frustration.
Steve laughs, leaning in even closer, until they’re nose to nose and it’s harder to pin him without just flat out laying on him—so he does. He rubs the tips of their noses together to distract him while he shifts, feeling the deep, satisfying stretch in his lower back when he has to keep his knees planted pretty high up there while his torso sinks against Eddie’s. It’s great to have the solid ground of his body underneath him, even if he’s sure that Eddie can absolutely feel his dick now. Hell, he’s certain of it when Eddie’s eyes go wide and shocked again, looking down as if he could see it.
A nervous fear tries to edge in so he just tries to smile it away.
“I certainly am. It feels real good to get the upper hand on you for once,” he admits, waiting until Eddie’s eyes flick up to look at his again. “Usually I just go along with whatever you say, but... maybe sometimes I can take the lead, right? Besides, you never used to make me feel stupid, but I feel like that all the time lately.”
Eddie’s frown changes, it’s different than the anger.
“If I wanted to be insulted all of the damn time, there’s a group of teenagers I can hang out with instead.”
“Mm.”
“So maybe I’ll just keep you here until I feel better about myself, and then the next time you talk down to me I can like,” Steve pauses, pretty sure he doesn’t want there to be a next time, “handle it.”
Eddie grunts, wiggling underneath him.
“What, have something to say?”
He nods, and Steve stares at him for a moment, trying to memorize how he looks before he slackens the hanky. Eddie groans, licking at the sides of his mouth before he sighs, looking up beyond Steve’s head.
“I’m sorry for being a dickhead,” he mutters. Then he frowns again and shifts underneath him, pressing his hips up where Steve’s dick is having the time of its life.
Here it is—he’s going to call Steve a faggot and threaten to kill him, or whatever.
“I can’t believe you’re getting off on this,” he says, glancing at Steve’s eyes before looking back up. “That’s... uh—It’s... well...”
Steve rolls his eyes.
“If you’re going to tell me to let you go, do it with confidence,” he says.
Eddie’s eyebrows raise and he presses his hips up again—a smile tugs at his mouth.
“I dunno, I think you’re a total pervert, but... it makes sense you’re into wrestling with men. You probably did it half naked in the locker room all of the time,” he says, attempting a casual shrug. “It’s probably baked into your DNA. I can’t blame you for missing your homoerotic jock buddies.”
Steve laughs. Eddie has an extremely skewed view of what they were all doing in locker rooms, even with the horseplay. Boners were never involved, for starters.
Eddie’s tongue traces where the hanky rests lightly over his bottom teeth and Steve nearly gets stuck replaying it in his mind.
“Uh-huh. You willing to be a stand in for one? I need to get some sucking and fucking in,” he says as dryly as possible.
He expects Eddie to laugh it off or even get disgusted, but instead what happens is Eddie’s eyes kind of glaze over and his mouth goes slack and honestly, what else is Steve supposed to do except for make the hanky all tight again? It’s shiny with spit, and when Eddie feels it slide between his teeth and pin his head down, instead of struggling he turns that glazed look on Steve with a groan.
“I knew it,” Steve smirks. “You secretly always wanted to be a jock. Maybe I should make you play basketball with me next.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow and Steve’s smirk grows—he knows where exactly he stands now—mean and turned on about it.
“Or maybe you’re more into swimming? I have an old speedo that’ll fit you. Unless you want to do laps naked, I’m sure the neighbors won’t mind.”
He’s sure it’s clear that he’s joking, but the redness in Eddie’s face renews with a fierce blush that grabs ahold of Steve’s gut and eats at him until he finds himself grinding down, automatic with it.
“Or y’know, I could do to you what you think we were all doing to each other, though I think you’ve got the wrong idea about the like... the uh, reality of it,” he says, struggling to focus on taunting him now that his hips are working. Between his tight pants and the squeeze of their bodies, he’s sure his dick will hurt soon, but until then, he feels great. “Breathe if you want me to.”
Eddie sucks in a big breath through his nose and then holds it in.
Steve considers just letting the silence hang until Eddie runs out of air and has to breathe, but he won’t go that far—he doesn’t need a false yes when he’s kind of just doing what he wants to anyway, though Eddie didn’t even ask him to get off of him when he could speak.
“Okay, that’s a no then,” he concedes after Eddie’s starting to look like he’s having a hard time.
The resulting exhale of air makes some spit fly out from the soaked hanky, and Steve only now registers that his hands are covered in Eddie’s drool. He’s been distracted.
“You’re making such a mess,” he murmurs. It’s pretty hot—it’s even in Eddie’s hair. “It’s all over your face.”
Eddie grunts, frowning at him, and Steve can imagine what he’s saying.
“It’s not my fault, I’ve kept all of my spit inside of my mouth so far,” he says. “Though I could spit on yours, so you can blame me.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. Steve could do it, if he wanted to. It’s not like Eddie could stop him. He settles on just picturing it.
“Okay, so you don’t want to be a jock with me, and you don’t want me to spit on your face, and you don’t want me to like,” he grinds down into him again, moaning a little this time, “show you the fantasy version of locker room shit... so what do you want?”
He doesn’t get an answer—Eddie doesn’t even try. He just stares back at him, his face getting redder as Steve slowly thrusts against him.
“No opinion, huh? Guess I’ll decide for you,” he says, dipping his head to run his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip. He jumps, but he holds still, doesn’t try to get away from it. “Maybe you want me to seduce you for real?”
Steve kisses him over the gag next, teasing the edges of his teeth with his tongue, then goes to whisper in his ear.
“Most likely you want me to get off of you so you can punch me or get some kind of revenge,” he murmurs, letting his lips brush against Eddie’s skin. It forces a shudder out of him, and that feels great, so he gives a couple hard thrusts and resists the urge to nuzzle into him like a wild animal. “But I’m not going to let you do that until I’m done.”
Eddie moans, and this time when he moves he’s not struggling. He’s squirming, like he can’t stand laying still.
“I think you really want it,” Steve continues. His underwear is starting to chafe his skin so he stops, considering how he’s going to get his dick out. He’s gonna have to let go of the hanky, but it’s not like Eddie will get his hands free. “I think that this is totally hot for you.”
Eddie shakes his head, but Steve knows what he looks like when he’s angry, or excited, or scared, and he knows what enough people looked like when they were turned on to get a pretty clear picture of what this is.
“Yeah it is,” he grins, “You’re gonna like it even more in a second.”
Eddie looks confused—Steve sits up and tries to be quick with getting his pants open. He struggles a few times before he can grip his zipper, but he gets it down and he’s able to pull himself out of his briefs. His fingers are cold and wet with Eddie’s spit against his shaft.
“Maybe I should gag you with something else,” Steve mumbles, not really thinking about it until Eddie groans and squirms under him again. He squeezes himself and considers Eddie’s mouth. He didn’t spit out the gag yet.
Steve thinks he’s gotta be possessed by something when he starts to knee-walk up until his dick is above Eddie’s face. Pressing the tip of it to Eddie’s bottom lip is a real aha! moment for him; then feeding it in against the gag. The fabric chafes a little bit, but there’s so much spit everywhere that he doesn’t care—besides, he’s got his dick in Eddie’s mouth—crazy—he didn’t think even half an hour ago that he’d ever do this.
Eddie opens wider and Steve can’t go in further with the hanky in the way, but maybe that’s better, like because it’s weirder it’s also hotter, and anyway he’s probably not going to last too long—
The world spins as he’s flipped onto his back. The floor greets him and knocks the wind out of him, and his mind is too slow to catch up and do something as Eddie sits on him and pins him. It’s pretty much the same thing that Steve did to him, though now he’s got his dick out. Spit covered fabric bullies its way between his teeth and he groans, then laughs around it, exhilaration taking its hold again.
Yeah. He was right—he thinks he likes Eddie turning the tables.
“There. Now I win.”
Steve doesn’t feel like a loser. He wonders if his laughter will piss Eddie off, but he can’t help it. He feels pretty drunk actually, like his blood is swimming in butterfly strokes under his skin instead of just running uniformly like normal.
“What should I do with you?” Eddie looks like he’s trying to be stern, but he’s bad at pressing his smile into a frown. “You put your dick in my mouth.”
Steve’s hips push up, but Eddie’s carefully hunched so he can’t rub against him.
“Uh-huh,” he replies with difficulty. Eddie’s spit is soaking his face through the fabric now, and he chews on the gag a little bit to get his own in there.
“Well, I’ve gotta get you back for that,” Eddie laughs, then takes the ends of hanky and passes them around the back of Steve’s head. It’s tight and stuck and good—Steve thinks he could get it loose easily, it’s not tied off, but he likes it. So much. Eddie goes for his belt, pausing to look at him, and Steve tries to imagine what he sees.
He’s all pinned and messy, his face probably looks stupid but that’s hot too. His dick is harder than it’s been in ages, because usually by now he’d be done jerking off instead of having this drawn out thing, and whenever he moves it bobs and touches his shirt, building a wet spot there.
“You seem happy,” Eddie says, working his jeans open and pushing his boxers underneath his balls. Steve groans—he wants it a lot more than he thought he would. He knew objectively, but—“Kinda unfair, you know?”
That doesn’t make sense, but whatever. He got his point across earlier, he thinks. The rest is just... more. A bonus.
Eddie grabs his wrists and pulls his arms up over his head, pinning his hands down by his ears. He’s been in this position before, both while roughhousing with Tommy and with sex, but this is the first time it felt like anything real, like Eddie’s really going to pin him and make him feel whatever he wants to make him—
“You should be pissed off,” Eddie accuses, shifting around until his dick presses against Steve’s cheek. He moans, turning his head to try to direct it to his mouth. “You should hate me, you should be threatening to beat the shit out of me.”
Steve wonders if Eddie would think it’s hot if he was mad. He’s sure there’s things Eddie could do while they have sex that would piss him off—then he could get what he wants and Steve would too, probably. It’s hard to think about the specifics when Eddie’s dick isn’t in his mouth yet.
“I should’ve known,” Eddie laughs like he’s in pain. “I should’ve known this about you. How did I miss it?”
Steve gives up on trying to get Eddie’s dick to rest at a good angle for his mouth and just rubs his cheek against it; squeezes an eye shut to keep it safe, and glances up with the other one—Eddie looks like he’s been slapped. Eddie couldn’t have known this about him. He barely knew—he was hiding it from himself.
“Steve, Jesus Christ,” Eddie hisses, pulling one of Steve’s arm down until he can kneel on it instead. It’s not as satisfying as having it pinned like the other one, but this is hot too, more like the struggle of wrestling. Eddie’s got a hand free now and puts it to great use, gripping his dick tightly, starting to jerk off furiously, letting the tip sometimes hit Steve’s lip or nose or the corner of his mouth where the gag pushes it down.
Before he can try to beg Eddie to finally put his dick in his mouth, a shocked moan surrounds them and then hot cum lands on his face. He struggles against Eddie but only because he’s desperate to touch himself, to get off too, but just because he came it doesn’t mean Eddie’s ending this thing, apparently. He slaps his dick against Steve’s mouth a few times, before sitting back and wiping it off on Steve’s shirt. He’s not mad at that either—it makes sense that Eddie would get his shirt all messed up too.
“You’re unreal,” Eddie mutters under his breath. “I can’t fucking believe you. Who made you?”
Steve thinks those are compliments. He’s taking them that way anyway. He rolls his head until the gag comes loose enough for him to spit it out, feeling infinitely dirtier when it lands heavy with spit across his neck.
“Dunno,” he murmurs, licking the corners of his mouth. “You gonna touch me?”
Eddie stares at him for a long moment, then sighs out a noisy breath and gets off of him.
“Yeah. I am,” he says, shoving Steve’s legs apart before he can catch up to Eddie’s intentions. “Be good, or I might find a way to actually piss you off.”
That would be interesting. Steve thinks it’d hot if Eddie’s pissed, but if he was angry, what would he want to do? Would he still want to do this? Steve got him going earlier, but that was normal wrestling. Mostly.
“Just don’t make me sad and I’m game,” he says pressing his palms to the floor. Eddie’s face is so close to his dick. He’s gotta be good, or he’ll probably just stop.
“Yeah, I’m figuring that out,” Eddie scoffs. He rolls his eyes too, like that can hide how pleased he is. “You’re game for a lot.”
That one’s clearly an insult, but he doesn’t care. He wants his dick in Eddie’s mouth more than he wants anything else. More than he wants dignity or respect or even like, air.
“You gonna come quickly?” Eddie asks. Steve just gives a feeble nod—he’s not proud of it, but he’s not going to lie. “Alright.”
Eddie licks his lips, opens his mouth, and sucks him down with tight, wet pressure. Pleasure and relief rush fast and crazy, like he shifted gears to go faster down the highway, and the tension snaps hard, right into Eddie’s throat. The orgasm is hard, knuckling through him, and he helplessly takes it, finding Eddie’s shoulders to dig his fingers in, clinging, hanging in there, until he has to downshift and take his foot off the gas.
“Holy fuck,” Steve pants through a grin. His heart pounds through his back against the floor as he stares up at the ceiling. He lets go of Eddie’s shoulders, feeling him sit up, hearing his loud swallow. “Holy fuck.”
“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, stretching out beside him. He grabs Steve’s jaw and he turns his head willingly, thinking he’s going to get kissed, but Eddie just looks at him. “You have cum all over your face.”
It’s dry by now, and so is all of the spit, except for the gag. He pulls that off his neck.
“Wonder where that came from,” he mutters, but Eddie’s looking at him in a crazy way, like the sun’s coming up in his eyes, so he does what he knows how to do and he hooks his leg around his waist and rolls. He lays Eddie out on his back and presses against him, all of the heat through clothes except for where he’s able to adjust his hips and get their dicks together. It’s strange, maybe not sexy, they’re both soft, but he likes it, the specific area of skin. “You have cum in your mouth.”
“Not anymore,” Eddie smirks weakly. Steve thinks he’s getting nervous. “Do you care?”
“No, I don’t care,” Steve says, leaning in real close. “But it matters a lot to me.”
He lets Eddie try to work through his confusion for a second before he kisses him, simple, pressing his lips against Eddie’s.
---
“You know, you basically rewarded me for being an asshole,” Eddie smirks, all stretched out beside him, relaxed like he doesn’t have red marks on his face.
“I thought it was a punishment at the time,” Steve shrugs. He doesn’t care—he doesn’t think Eddie’s going to keep being so mean. Or if he does, he has a good way to make up for it. “I got what I wanted anyway.”
Eddie slides his leg between Steve’s, bringing the blankets up over their shoulders.
“Thank fucking God for that,” Eddie huffs. Steve kisses the edge of his mouth where it curves into his cheek.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
---