Chapter Text
In 1983, Steve Harrington thought that he’d always be able to divide his life into two parts: before The Upside Down and after The Upside Down.
It was only now that another division was becoming clear: before Eddie and after Eddie .
The truth was, if you’d told the Steve Harrington of 1983 that one day he’d be sat smoking pot in on an old sofa in Eddie The Freak Munson’s trailer, he’d have either laughed in your face, punched you, or both.
And yet, here he was.
Munson’s trailer really wasn’t that bad. If anything, Steve preferred it to the echoing silence of The Harrington Mansion , as Eddie called it. He liked the homeliness of it, liked how every inch was filled with personality and how every surface had some sort of knick-knack with its own backstory on it, liked how small it was, even. Small enough that if he and Eddie were ever trying to go past one another it was just inevitable that they’d brush hands or arms or thighs-
Obviously, Steve would never point any of that out to Eddie, even with his current lowered inhibitions but-
Well, he certainly wasn’t complaining, was he?
Right now, though, Steve wasn’t thinking about his younger, misinformed self, or the character embedded in every bit of Eddie’s trailer, or the sparks he felt whenever Eddie’s hand would incidentally touch his, no. Right now, Steve couldn’t help but wonder why the fuck Eddie was incapable of putting that bandana properly into his pocket instead of leaving it to hang out like that.
Really, how hard is it to not leave things hanging out of your pockets like a dumbass? It was just a recipe for losing shit and, honestly, it looked kinda stupid.
So, when Eddie leaned over him to get a second joint after the one they’d been passing back and forth was finished, making it so Steve was suddenly very aware of the warmth of Munson’s body practically pressed against his, Steve asked.
“Hey, Munson, what’s with the bandana?”
Eddie froze above him, entire body tensing for a second before he relaxed and, having hold of the joint finally, he sat back down, moving slightly further away from Steve than he had been earlier, making him both relieved and disappointed at the loss of contact.
“What bandana?” Eddie’s voice was light. It didn’t give anything away, per se, but Steve got the impression that he knew ‘what bandana’, he just wanted Steve to say it. Besides, no one pauses like that unless they've got something to hide.
“The one you’ve always got hanging out of your back pocket,” Steve couldn’t tell what Eddie was feeling, the other man’s face somehow both tense and completely normal at the same time, “Why can't you just put in it right? Is it some metal thing?”
“Been staring at my ass, Stevie?” Eddie teased, grinning at him as if there was a joke he was missing out on, one that he had no intention of giving Steve the punchline to.
Steve wasn’t about to admit that he had, in fact, been staring at Munson’s ass, in a totally friendly-platonic-straight sort-of-way.
Eddie was straight, and more importantly, Steve was straight. He liked boobies, liked how soft girls were, and how pretty. He was definitely into girls, not guys.
Besides, it’s not really gay to appreciate another man’s ass, right?
Right.
"No, asshole, I'm just curious," if Steve pouted, he wasn't about to admit it.
"Aw, well you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat-" Eddie sang.
"-But satisfaction brought it back, yeah?" Steve cut him off.
"Trust me, Harrington, this is something you just don't wanna know," Eddie looked at him seriously now, and Steve tried to suppress the internal flinch he gave when Eddie called him Harrington. He'd take Stevie over Harrington any day.
"Says who?" Steve's brow furrowed.
"Says me, duh," Eddie grinned at him again, before passing him the now-lit joint.
Steve took the joint, breathing the smoke in deep before exhaling, releasing it from his lungs. "Well now I just wanna know more. C'mon, it can't be that bad. What is it? Some sort of secret nerd code?" Steve smiled.
Oddly enough, that made Eddie choke, "What?"
Jackpot.
"Oh, so it is a secret code? What does yours say?"
"Nuh uh, Stevie, this is not what you think it is. This is your last warning, sweetheart," it was as if the room got warmer all at once, the look in Eddie's eyes was intense even as the pet name made Steve swallow unwittingly.
Steve gave his best puppy-dog eyes, leaning into Eddie's space and inadvertently making it so he had to look up to meet his eyes. "Please? I really wanna know. I won't tell anyone else, promise."
Eddie seemed to almost given in. Almost. "Steve, if I tell you, you've got to promise not to freak out and you can't, and I mean can't, tell anyone, understood?" Eddie's voice seemed to lower, become more commanding, and it, against all odds, made him want to do whatever Eddie told him to do, anything Eddie told him to do. He couldn't help but wonder, just for a minute, what it would be like to hear that voice in another context-
Nope. Quiet Steve, quiet.
"I promise. I'm not that guy anymore Eddie, I swear," it hurt that Eddie could ever think he was, but, Steve knew, it was his own fault in the end. Maybe if he hadn't been such a dick in high school, maybe if he'd been nicer, he wouldn't have to deal with the way Eddie sometimes seemed ever so slightly unsettled around him, as if he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Eddie just looked at him for a moment, as if trying to way the pros and cons of telling him, before he sighed. "Fine. It's like- well- it tells other like-minded people what I like, basically. Different colours, different pockets, mean different things, you know?"
Well that wasn't vague at all.
"What you like?" Steve questioned.
Eddie's cheeks were pink as he responded. "Uh, in bed, Steve. What I like in bed."
"Oh," Steve felt his own face warm, heat traveling down until he was sure he must've been bright red from the neckline of his polo and up.
"Uh, yeah, oh."
"So, like, do you use it to pick up girls or something?" Steve was, honestly, kind of confused. In all the time he'd known Eddie, they'd not once talked about girls, and Steve had just guessed, eventually, that Eddie must be more interested in D&D than dating. Like Will.
Eddie cringed, "No, not girls."
It took Steve a minute to get what Eddie was saying. If he wasn't using it to pick up girls, then what-?
Oh.
Steve felt his face grow warmer. His breath hitched.
"Um, so you like- you like guys?" he asked, embarrassed when his voice came out higher than intended.
Eddie stared at him searchingly before he answered a simple, "Yeah, yeah I do. Like guys, I mean."
"Cool."
"Cool."
They sat in silence for a minute before Steve spoke, "So, uh, what does it mean? Your bandana?"
When Eddie looked at him, Steve felt naked, like his skin was being pulled back for Eddie's viewing pleasure, "Hm?"
Steve squirmed where he was sat on the sofa, feeling very much like he'd just been put under a microscope, "You said that different colours and different pockets meant different things. So, what does yours mean?"
A shark-like grin covered Eddie's face, a look in his eye that said he'd found whatever he'd been searching for in Steve earlier as he leaned into Steve's personal space, making him shiver, "Why, Stevie, if you wanted to know what I was into you just had to ask."
Even though he felt unstable, unmoored even, Steve answered in a moment of bravery, "I am. Asking, I mean."
Leaning back, Eddie gave him a considering look, "The black is for S&M. Sadism and masochism. And me having it in my left pocket means I top."
Steve blanched, "So you, what, get off on hurting people?"
"Not exactly," Eddie didn't look hurt by the accusation, as if he'd expected it, "It means I like mixing my partner's pleasure with pain. I like to dominate them, give them something they can't give themselves. It's not as if I'm just beating them."
"How?" the question left his mouth before Steve even had time to think about it, and the look Eddie gave him was as hesitant as it was predatory.
"What d'you mean how, sweetheart?"
"I mean- like- I mean how do you do that? How'd you do what you just said?" Steve stuttered.
"Well, sometimes I choke them, let them feel my hand around their throat while they come around my cock," Steve's mouth went dry at the description. Eddie was suddenly altogether too close and yet not close enough, and Steve was all too aware of the warmth he could feel radiating off the older man.
"What else?"
"Sometimes, if they're especially good, I'll let them suck my cock. Or I'll suck theirs," Steve could barely focus on the words when Eddie's hand came to rest on his knee, thumb rubbing circles into the bare skin. Steve was wearing an old pair of basketball shorts (it was summer in Hawkins, you'd have to be insane to wear jeans - not that that stopped Eddie) but he almost wished he'd worn something longer, his skin suddenly all-too sensitive even though Eddie was barely touching him.
"Wha- What else?" Steve stuttered out, his brain foggy.
"Well, if they're bad, they need to be punished, don't they?" It was as if Steve's entire existence hand narrowed to a single point and it was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
"Y-yeah," Steve's voice came out quieter, breathier, than intended, but Eddie didn't seem to mind. If anything it spurred him on, his hand moving from Steve's knee to his lower inner thigh and back down again. Back and forth, back and forth.
"D'you wanna know what I do to boys who're bad, princess?" Eddie's hand kept going back and forth on Steve's inner thigh, getting higher each time, getting steadily closer to the bottom of his shorts.
"Please," it came out more like a whine than words, and for a moment Steve was unbearably embarrassed, until he was distracted by Eddie's continued description.
Eddie kept his eyes on Steve as he continued, "It depends on my mood. Sometimes, I make them come over and over, and sometimes I don't like them come at all. Keep them on the edge." Steve's breath hitched, "Sometimes I spank them with my bare hand, or my belt. Make their asses red. Make them cry."
Steve swallowed.
"Would you be good for me, Stevie?"
It was as if Steve had forgotten how to speak. Eddie's warm hand was steadily creeping up his thigh, making his heart race and he was torn between looking at it or Eddie's face, which was suddenly much closer to his. "Would I- would I what?"
"Would you be a good boy, sweetheart? Or would you make it so I had to punish you? I bet you'd like it, wouldn't you?" Eddie's free hand came up to brush Steve's hair back. He didn't even see it coming when those ringed-fingers twisted into his hair and pulled, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough for Steve to feel the pressure, the strain, for him to bare his neck to Eddie to do as he pleased with.
"I- I-" Steve stuttered.
Eddie grinned meanly, "Aw, princess, cat got your tongue?" he crooned, and the mocking tone in his voice made all the blood in Steve's body rush inexplicably downwards. It was embarrassing. What was he, a virgin? He hadn't gotten so hard so quick since he was, what, fourteen? Scratch that, it wasn't just embarrassing, it was humiliating.
The humiliation only made him harder.
One moment, Eddie was looking at him appraisingly. The next, his lips were pressed to Steve's bared neck, making their way upwards as his hand drifted downwards to press the uncomfortably-obvious bulge in Steve's pants.
"What do you want, Sweetheart?"
Steve couldn't answer, could only whine and press his hips upwards into Eddie's hand, chasing any friction he could get. He whined as the hand was pulled away and Eddie's lips left his throat, "Please?"
"Please, what?"
Steve was struck with the sudden urge to sit at Eddie's feet, to kneel and be left at his mercy, to be able to do nothing more than suck Eddie's cock while he ground down onto his boot to try and get whatever satisfaction he could possible.
"Please, I wanna- can I blow you? Please?" Steve looked up, his eyes meeting Eddie's as he swallowed nervously. At some point in their encounter, he'd become pinned against the couch, Eddie leaning over him, more like a cruel God denying him pleasure than the man he'd been sat smoking with less than ten minutes ago.
Eddie looked shocked for a moment, before a new expression crossed his face, one Steve could only describe as a mix between cruel and mocking. It should've scared him at least a little, and, well, it did, but if anything the jolt of fear that ran through him only mad his cock harder, straining against his briefs.
"Oh, yeah? You sure you can handle it, big boy?" Eddie grinned.
Steve nearly gulped at the expression on the older boy's face, but managed to hold back, "Yeah, yeah I want to. Can I? Please, Eddie?" his voice felt foreign, higher than usual. He felt like he could hardly think about anything other than the anticipation of the weight of Eddie's cock in his mouth.
"Beg."
"Wh- what?" Steve stuttered.
"You heard me, be a good boy and beg." Eddie challenged, hand pulling through Steve's hair, his voice and touch deceptively soft, in complete contrast to his words, as if he wasn't telling Steve to do the most humiliating thing he'd ever done, as if he wasn't telling Steve to beg for it.
Obviously, Steve wasn't going to beg for it. Steve Harrington had never begged for anything in his goddamn life, he was hardly going to start now, especially not to suck Eddie-The-Freak-Munson's cock.
Except, apparently that was a lie, because Steve really was about to beg to suck Eddie-The-Freak-Munson's cock, or at least he would've, had he been able to do anything other than let out an utterly debauched moan at the mere idea of being a good boy for Eddie. Wow, Robin and Dustin were right: he really was a slut.
The delighted laugh Eddie gave at that made Steve's face go warm, "Oh, you like that, don't you? You wanna be my good boy, Stevie? Wanna be a good boy for Daddy?"
"Please, Daddy, want to be good for you, want to suck your dick, please, please, please. I need it, please I-" Steve babbled, no longer in control of his own words, not even in control enough of himself to even begin to feel embarrassed at the way he was acting.
Then, Eddie was sliding off of him to stand by the couch, before pulling Steve up to stand as well, then sitting back down on the couch in front of him, "Kneel." Eddie demanded.
As if there was nothing else he could even imagine doing, Steve dropped to his knees without a second thought, settling between Eddie's legs. He couldn't help but reach for the fly of Eddie's jeans, pulling it down and then pulling his jeans down entirely in an almost feverish manner before he slowly, comparatively hesitantly, pulled down Eddie's underwear, leaving the older man's nude cock stood upright between his legs.
Steve licked his lips slightly at the sight, suddenly feeling a bit less confident. Eddie was a bit longer than he himself was, thicker too, and what had just earlier seemed entirely desirable now seemed daunting (though, honestly, that didn't make Steve want it any less) and Steve knew, finally, why the girls who'd given him blowjobs over the years had seemed so nervous the first time.
How was he meant to fit that in his mouth- down his throat, even?
Eddie's hand, which had been lightly stroking his hair as he got his bearings, as if he was some sort of pet, stopped, moving to lift his chin. Serious eyes met his as Eddie said, "Hey, you know we don't have to do this, right? We can forget all about it, or I can get you off, or you can leave if you want, or-"
"No!" Steve startled even himself, "No, please, I want to," he swallowed, "Please, let me suck you off? Please, daddy?"
Taking a sharp breath in, Eddie's hand returned to his hair, "God, can't believe I didn't see how much of a slut you'd be for it."
Steve whimpered.
Eddie's other hand enveloped both of Steve's wrists, bringing them behind his back (God, how could he not have realised how big Eddie's hands were before?) "Keep your hands there. You won't be needing them. Now, you can blow me. I'm sure you know how, enough girls at Hawkins were always talking about how they'd sucked your dick, so you must know a thing or two, right? What would they think, if they could see you here right now, at my feet, huh?"
Steve leant forward to lick a stripe up Eddie's dick, doubly ignoring what the other boy had said and revelling in the groan his tongue forced from the older man.
He could only do so for a moment, though, before he was pulled away by his hair, "If you use teeth, or move your hands, even accidentally, I'll spank you, got it?" Eddie warned.
Steve couldn't help himself, "That a promise?"
He didn't register the slap until his head snapped to the side, one half stinging. Eddie's hand in his hair brought his head back to his cock, "You'll shut up and suck my cock if you know what's good for you, Stevie." his voice was soft again, lilting, almost melodic as it flowed into Steve's ears.
He kept quiet, instead leaning forward to take the head into his mouth, sucking on it gently, hollowing his cheeks like he'd had so many girls do to him. It was a strange sensation, having another man's dick in his mouth, but one he found he, against all odds, actually enjoyed. He couldn't tell if the fading sting of the slap made it better or worse. Experimentally, he worked further down, but gagged when he tried to take too much in at once and-
Eddie laughed at him, like actually laughed at him, and when Steve went to pull off in embarrassment and discomfort he found Eddie's hand keeping his head still, mouth still wrapped around his cock.
"God, look at you, Harrington. You're a whore for it, aren't you? If I all I needed to do to have King Steve on his knees was talk down to him, we could've been doing this four years ago." Eddie pulled him down on his dick by his hair, nearly choking him as he forced Steve's nose to meet his pubic bone and kept it there, "Swallow, it makes it easier."
The lack of air coupled with Eddie's words made Steve float, like he was only half in his body, his only tether the tight grip of Eddie's hand in his hair.
God, Steve didn't think he'd be able to stop or pull off now if he tried. Hell, if Eddie kept talking, he might actually cream his pants, and he highly doubted that that would be something that he would ever live down.
"I really wanna fuck your face, baby. Can I, please?" Steve nodded as well as he could, avoiding brushing the head of Eddie's dick with his teeth, "Such a good boy for me, so good. If you need to, or if I ask you to check in, I want you to tap on my thigh, okay? One tap for stop, two for slow down, three for keep going. Got it, Stevie?"
Steve tapped thrice in quick succession on Eddie's leg.
And then, Eddie was quite literally fucking into Steve's face, fucking all though out of him at the same time. Really, Steve thought, he'd be lucky if he could ever think of anything other than Eddie's dick down his throat ever again.
He felt his eyes watering as Eddie's cock rammed in and out of his mouth, and before long tears dripped down his face, making Eddie groan, "Jesus, Stevie, didn't anyone ever tell you you're so pretty when you cry?"
Steve couldn't help but moan around Eddie's cock, making the older man swear, thrusting impossibly harder into the warm, wet cavern of Steve's mouth.
Soon enough, though, Eddie's thrusts into Steve's throat lost their rhythm, his orgasm quickly approaching.
Eddie pulled out of Steve's mouth, wrapping his hand around his dick, "Be a good boy and open your mouth, princess."
As soon as Steve did, Eddie was coming on his face and in his mouth, the taste warm and salty on his tongue. The taste of Eddie's come wasn't exactly bad, per se, but it was also hardly the best thing Steve had ever tasted, and he suddenly understood why girls preferred to spit over swallow. Still, he closed his mouth, swallowing what was there and hmm-ing at the warmth going down his abused throat.
Hey, he said he understood why, not that he agreed!
"What do we say, baby?" Eddie teased.
Had he been capable of it, Steve might've pouted. As it was, all he could do was gaze dazedly up at Eddie, "Thank you."
"Thank you, what, hmm?"
Steve felt his go read, looking down and mumbling as if it would save him the decadent humiliation of thanking Eddie for coming on his face, for fucking his throat like he was nothing more than toy to be used for Eddie's pleasure, for taking all of it from Eddie and liking it, "Thank you, daddy."
"Such a good boy for me, princess," Eddie cooed, giggling, before he continued, "Aww, Stevie, you still haven't come yet, have you, sweetheart?" Eddie crooned, running his hand over Steve's hair.
Steve pressed his come-covered face onto Eddie's knee, undoubtably staining them with the man's own semen, and shook his head.
Ha! That's what he gets for coming on Steve's face!
"You can either come grinding on my shoe, or not come at all, your choice," Eddie whispered, voice hard, probably in punishment for his come-stained jeans, thought Steve.
Not that he was about argue. Honestly, it probably wouldn't take much: he'd already come uncomfortably close when he was sucking Eddie off.
He grinded his clothed cock onto Eddie's boot once, twice, three times, and then he was coming with a yell, panting as he road through it on his older friend's shoe, of all things.
Only after he was completely spent, almost shivering in a post-orgasm-haze, did Eddie practically pick him up (when did he get that strong???) pulling him up onto the couch and spooning him from behind, whispering sweet nothings in his ear about how he'd been so good, taken him so well, looked so pretty on his knees for him.
And, even though he'd been so thoroughly used, Steve didn't think he'd ever felt so safe as he did in Eddie's arms.