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Post-killing Vecna, post-almost getting strangled to death by slime covered living vines, post-finding Eddie cradled in Dustin’s arms bleeding to death, Steve’s pretty sure he’s hit a point in his life where nothing can surprise him anymore. Prolonged exposure to extra-dimensional terror will do that to you he guesses.
Spend enough time running for your life and maybe the shit life throws your way won’t seem as sudden.
Either way, he’s wrong.
It’s the first week of Indiana summer, which means that the heat is inescapable and that everyone has a shorter fuse than usual.
The kids are listlessly swimming in circles in the Harrington pool, too tired to get up to anything other than keeping themselves afloat.
Steve and Eddie are crammed under the single patio umbrella, desperate for shade, talking about music and lulling into exhausted but comfortable silences every so often.
Steve isn’t swimming, he’s keeping clear of the water for a while post WaterGate but he has his trunks on and shirt off, eager to take advantage of the heat as an excuse to shed some layers.
Eddie isn’t getting into the water either.
His trunks are on, leaving the pale, jagged slopes of his knees on blinding display. He’s not as cavalier as Steve is in the heat, sure he’s swapped out his usual two jacket look for a single shirt but it is still a shirt at the end of the day.
There’s text on the front but Steve can’t fucking parse what it says, he assumes it’s another band shirt. It’s well loved, soft at the collar with the sleeves and the fitted hem cut off for maximum comfort.
Does Eddie sleep in that shirt?
He’s about to bite the bullet and ask what band it’s from (because otherwise the not knowing will drive him INSANE), when Eddie leans forward to grab his beer from the table and the question promptly falls out of his brain, never to be spoken aloud or heard from again.
The sleeves are cut off low enough that Steve can see the distractingly shadowed sloping of Eddie’s ribs but that’s not what catches his eye.
There’s metal. There’s metal through Eddie’s nipple (nipples? He thinks dazedly, both of them?), glinting for a split second before he leans back in his chair, turning back to Steve (to start another argument about ABBA no doubt) before he freezes.
"Uh," he coughs. "Harrington, you good? You’re looking a little overheated man."
He leans forward, eyebrows knit with concern, and again, Steve sees metal through the low cut armhole of Eddie’s shirt.
He shakes himself out of it lets out a harried laugh while he scrapes a hand through his hair. He inhales and gestures vaguely to his own chest after finding no artful way to ask. “Are those, uh. New?”
Eddie freezes for a moment then immediately throws back his head and cackles.
“Oh Stevie,” he bats his eyelashes. “You trying to sneak a peek at the goods man? Not gonna wait until the second date to ask to take my top off?”
Steve flushes, burning up to his hairline, sputters “No dude! It’s just like!” He gestures vaguely towards Eddie, “the armholes. Your shirt is just like, it’s really low on the sides and I just-“
“Shit.” Eddie chugs the last dregs of his beer and sets down the can, twisting to look down at his own side, looking sheepish.
“I didn’t realize this was cut that low,” he murmurs. “They’ve still got, like, four weeks left of healing before I can swim or anything but it’s too fucking hot to wear sleeves so I just. Went with what I could find.”
“Are they, uh, new, though? I just, I feel like I would have remembered seeing them before (before, in the upside down, where Eddie is bleeding out, he’s dying, he’s looking up at Steve, he’s asking Dustin to take care of the sheep, his eyes are closing-).” Steve shakes his head to stop that train of thought.
“Oh, I’m not memorable enough already for you Stevie-boy?” Eddie falls quiet after a second, the joking lilt of his lips settling. Steve tracks the movement of his tongue darting out to wet them before Eddie speaks up again.
“Yeah they’re new,” he says softly, “drove up to Indy after everything else healed up and got it done there.”
He pictures Eddie- wounds scabbed over but still whole, still breathing -driving the hour to Indianapolis and the hour back on a mission. Thinks about how he would have been tapping the rhythm from ear-melting tunes on the steering wheel, thinks about his hair catching in the wind with the windows rolled down, about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs that uncontrollable laugh.
“Didn’t it hurt?” He asks softly, lost to the daydream for a moment.
Eddie stares blankly back at him. “Yeah Harrington,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to say something else. “It did hurt.”
Steve snaps out of it of fucking course it hurt man, what are you asking?
“Oh fuck- I mean, that was a stupid question, of course it hurt. Uh but what made you uh-“
Eddie cocks his head like he’s sizing Steve up, “I like them. It’s like the tattoos right? Like they’re mine and I picked them.”
I picked this hurt for myself Steve hears.
“You want another beer?” Eddie gestures towards Steve’s hand, cradling an empty can warmed by his palm and the ambient lazy heat of the day. He nods.
“Well, it just so happens that I’m in desperate need of a refill myself, so I suppose I can offer my delivery services for you princess.” Eddie levers himself up, his shirt falling back into place and snags the empty can from Steve’s hand on the way inside, their fingers brush together.
He stares numbly at Eddie’s back for a moment while he trudges into the house, eyes settling on the strip of skin laid bare by the unevenly cropped bottom of his shirt. Thinks about fitting his hands there and stands up to follow him.
Trails him into the kitchen, where Eddie already has two cans out on the counter. He’s basking in the cool air from the fridge when Steve walks in, eyes closed for a moment before nudging the door shut with his hip and turning to face him.
“Before we go back out,” Eddie pauses. “Is it cool if I take my shirt off for a minute? The fabric keeps catching on the barbells and it’s a fucking nightmare dude.”
Eddie laughs ruefully, Steve lets out a choked affirmative and promptly wishes the earth would swallow him whole.
The taller boy pulls off his shirt, ruffling his curls in the process from where they’ve flattened in the heat and leaning back against the counter.
For a blissful minute everything is quiet.
“It’s okay to look at me man,” Eddie mumbles, gesturing at Steve where he’s facing slightly away from him (for your modesty dude). “Like, I’m not gonna bite or anything. You sure you’re good?”
Steve coughs and tilts towards Eddie, resolutely trying to keep his eyes above collarbone-level. He fails and Eddie catches the movement immediately.
“Oh, is that how it is Harrington? You wanna get in a closer look?” He wiggles his eyebrows but it’s not enough to distract from the pink spreading up his neck.
Steve is silent, frozen for a second while processing.
Eddie blanches. “Or I just totally misread that. ANYWAY I’ll just-“ He moves to pull his shirt back over his head jerkily and Steve’s brain finally comes back online.
“NO, n-no man you’re good I just uh. got caught off guard,” he stumbles his way through. “I’d, I’d like to if you’re still cool like. Can I, uh.”
Eddie settles with his lower back against the countertop, tilting his head back. Eyes hooded, lips quirked, quietly says “yeah Harrington, you can uh.”
Steve steps forward, huffs a laugh and gently cages Eddie in. Palms settled on either side of his hips on the counter, breathing the same air.
He locks eyes with Eddie who nods, and then tilts his gaze back downward.
It looks like it hurts, is the first thing he thinks.
Eddie’s nipples are puffy. They look tender and swollen while they harden in response to the cold of the kitchen. The barbells run straight through them clinically, horizontally, perfectly even.
After a few moments Eddie mumbles, “you can touch them, if you want.” His eyes widen, “or not. It’s totally good man,” he forces a laugh.
Steve steps back and Eddie’s shoulders slump. He motions to push away from the counter again but Steve catches his hip and gently angles him back.
“They’re still healing, right?” Eddie nods.
“I’m just gonna wash my hands, I don’t want to fuck them up or anything.”
“Oh.” Eddie’s flushed again, eyes flickering from the spot on his hip that Steve touched, to the curve of his mouth for a split second.
Steve washes his hands for an eternity and feels Eddie’s eyes boring into his back the entire time, dries them carefully, and turns back around.
Eddie’s head is tilted back, collarbones on display, hair framing his face. His eyes are closed now, his lips barely parted as Steve rounds back across the room to him.
He’s gorgeous.
“Still okay?” He murmurs as he draws closer.
Eddie’s eyes blink open, pupils huge and endless. He nods, softly mumbles an affirmative and Steve steps back into the cradle of his hips.
He starts at his waist, cupping his palms around Eddie’s bottom ribs. Feeling them expand with his inhales, feeling Eddie break out in goosebumps and suppress a shudder when Steve’s thumbs trace along his sides.
“If you tickle me now Harrington,” Eddie says quietly, “you’ll never know peace again in your life.”
Too late for that Steve thinks, slightly hysterical. He clears his throat, draws his hands up the lines of Eddie’s body until he reaches his stopping point.
The metal glints in the afternoon sun, tantalizing as anything, as he moves his thumbs gently to settle over both of Eddie’s nipples.
Eddie inhales sharply and Steve’s gaze immediately snaps up to him. Hands unmoving, he asks again, still okay?
Eddie nods.
Steve presses a little harder, feels the tension of the metal under Eddie’s skin and feels Eddie (unconsciously?) arch his back, opening himself up to Steve’s hands.
“Does that hurt?” Steve asks.
Eddie’s hands white knuckle clutch at the formica edge of the counter. “Yeah man,” his voice is shaking “just a little bit though.” I can take more goes unspoken.
And that’s what this is about isn’t it? Steve thinks, slowly circling his thumbs. Wanting to breathe in the shape of the soft, shaking sound Eddie lets out.
It’s about knowing it’ll hurt and choosing to do it anyway. At least it is for Eddie.
“You’re so fucking brave, y’know that?”
Eddie jolts, “what dude?” He blinks rapidly. “F-for this? no this is just-“ he fumbles. “This isn’t brave I’m just, y’know like fucking around or whatever I-“
Before he can finish, Steve cuts him off with a kiss.
Eddie’s mouth is still open from his floundering and Steve feels the ghost of a moan on his lower lip when Eddie moves to kiss him back. Feels that vibration linger when he pinches at Eddie’s chest under his hands and it forces a whine out of Eddie’s throat to curl around his teeth.
Steve pulls back, pressing his lips to Eddie’s pulse point down the tender line of his throat, sets his teeth in at the spot where it meets his shoulder and smiles when Eddie releases the counter to clutch at the back of his head.
“Oh fuck, oh my god,” he’s breathless, he’s panting. Chest pressing up into Steve’s fingers, asking for more without asking with words.
“Jesus, you’re pretty,” Steve whispers, moving back to catch Eddie’s lips.
“Bet you say that to all the girls, huh,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, pressing the shape of a smile there.
“All the girls? No.” Steve scoffs softly, “but to the pretty boys? Yeah. I’m no liar Munson.” He tweaks Eddie’s nipples to drive his point home.
“Oh fuck, keep that up and I’m gonna fucking embarrass myself Harrington,” He says it so softly, almost abashed.
“Yeah?” Steve moves in closer, bullies his knee slowly between Eddie’s, telegraphing his movements so that Eddie can stop him if he wants to. Eddie reels him in as quickly as possible, hitching one leg up at an angle and pressing against him.
“Oh fuck you,” Eddie’s chokes out a laugh, hands scrabbling up Steve’s back, rocking against his thigh where Steve can feel him, hard and pulsing.
“Yeah, you wanna ride my thigh baby? Want me to tell you how pretty you are?” Eddie whines, muffles the sound into Steve's shoulder until he's reeled back up for a kiss.
“Want me to tell you how much I want to touch you all the time?” He breathes the words into Eddie’s mouth.
“You said you’ve got four weeks of healing left? Fuck, I’m putting that on my calendar. G-gonna, fuck, gonna spend the whole day feeling you up, gonna get my fucking mouth on you-“
Eddie lets out a choked sound, all vowels and pleasure, and grinds down harder, his rhythm stuttering, his hands shaking on Steve’s shoulders.
Steve pulls at his hips, guiding Eddie’s rhythm, feeling precum and sweat ease the brutal grind.
“Gonna get my mouth on your cock,” he bucks against Eddie. “Gonna get you fucking soaked, gag on you a little and then,” he rolls Eddie’s nipples, thumbing the barbells. “I’m gonna make these so sore with my teeth you’re not gonna be able to wear a shirt without feeling it for days.”
He’s rocking into Eddie so hard the other boy is going to have a bruise on his back from the counter. He’s so hard he’s leaking into his trunks, making the movement smoother against Eddie’s sharp hipbone through the layers of their clothes.
“Christ Harrington, you’ve got, ah, a fucking mouth on you,” He’s picking up speed against the round edge of Steve’s thigh. “F-fuck god I’m gonna-“
“Yeah sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? Gonna think about my tongue on you?” He bites at Eddie’s bottom lip. “Fuck, can’t wait to get you on your back, gonna play with you for fucking hours.”
Eddie whines, head thrown back, he’s shaking.
Steve gets real close, presses his mouth behind Eddie’s ear for a blinding moment and breathes “You gonna let me cum on your chest baby? Mark you up? Show you how pretty you are?”
Eddie nods, eyes endless, curls bouncing, thighs shaking around Steve’s, mumbles “Yeah, yeah please. Fuck, I wanna-“
All it takes is one more well-timed pinch and Eddie thrusts once, twice, three times against his thigh, legs locking around Steve’s, holding him in place while he rides through the aftershocks. Moans into his mouth and breaks away eventually with a single breathy ah when Steve’s fingers twitch against his chest and that’s it.
The rush of orgasm almost knocks him on his ass, moving his hands back down to Eddie’s waist to hold himself up and grind against him. Panting into Eddie’s mouth, curling into his shape while both of their breathing steadies.
“Alright Harrington,” Eddie says eventually and butts his forehead lightly against Steve’s, a soft smile on his lips. “As much as I’d like to bask in the afterglow I’d also love to not have cum dried in my pubes so you’re gonna have to scoot.”
“Okay gimme like, two seconds,” Steve mumbles into his jaw, “I just came my fucking brains out, I’m rebooting.”
Eddie laughs, “What brains?” Steve nips at him in retaliation, chuckling when Eddie’s breath catches and presses a question into his shoulder.
“You uh, wanna go to the drive-in with me this weekend?”
He can feel Eddie’s breath catch. “Yeah man, sure,” he pauses, “just to clarify though- as like, friends or what because I uh-“
“Not as friends,” Steve’s still tucked into the warm shadow of Eddie’s neck. “As uh, like, a date? If you’d want?”
Eddie lets out a disbelieving little noise. “Oh do I want Harrington.” Steve can hear the smile in his voice, tucks his own smile against the proof of Eddie’s beating heart.
“It’s a date then.”
“Yeah. I guess it is,” Eddie says softly, tilting him back and catching his mouth once more.