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“So are we doing this then?”
Eddie narrows his eyes.
Okay. Fine. Skipping foreplay, sure.
“Doing what, Harrington?”
Irritation flickers across Steve’s features as he steps forward again, still breathing hard and unevenly. Still red in the face.
“You’re really going to make me say it?” he whispers. “You want me to ask?”
“No,” Eddie grins, reaching up to tug at the red ascot tied around his stupid little sailor shirt. He leans in closer, hooking a finger into the waistband of his stupid little sailor shorts. His lips brush the shell of Steve’s ear as he speaks, voice pitched soft and low.
“You’re not going to ask. You’re going to beg.”—
Eddie spends his summer learning things about himself – such as the fact that the only thing he enjoys about his dreary summer job at the mall comes in the form of one Steve Harrington: fallen from grace, suited up in a borderline indecent uniform, easy to torment, and wound tighter than a drum.
Steve spends his summer learning things about himself as a result of Eddie’s habitual tormenting. -
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