come on, baby, the laugh's on me

Eddie wants so badly to waste time ribbing Steve over all of this, moan and groan about not getting a taste of that famous Harrington charm, but he puts on his bravest face and resists the role of the jester. For once in his goddamn life.

Instead, he leans forward, taking the lobe of Steve’s ear between his teeth and tugging slightly before kissing the sensitive skin behind it.

“First time?” he murmurs, feeling the way it makes Steve shiver in his lap.

“With you?” Steve manages to shoot back anyway, even as he’s shifting his legs to rest more fully in Eddie’s lap. “Obviously, Munson.”

“Smartass,” Eddie snorts, shifting to kiss Steve full on the mouth again.

chapter 4 of “Where the Ragged People Go” is up now!

...all of a sudden, Steve seems to want his title back. 

It’s ridiculous, and Robin nearly snorts beer out of her nose laughing in her haste to remind him what a dork he truly is. Jonathan grins and chimes in about how far King Steve has fallen off of his throne, and how it’d be pretty tough to sit back up there with a broken ass and no crown.

But Steve is grinning wildly, all shining lights in his eyes and just a flush of red high up on his cheeks, looking every bit the golden captain of the basketball team he’d been even during his team’s losing streak. 

“If Munson wants my title,” he says to the room at large, passing Eddie another beer and grabbing one for himself, “he’s gonna have to fight me for it.”

Blood swims in diametric streams throughout Eddie’s body, half rushing to his face and half rushing south to what could become a dangerously embarrassing situation if he doesn’t get a fucking grip soon. 

Fight Steve? Eddie could die from one knock-out punch and be satisfied, if it means Steve gets his hands on him. 

But while Eddie is busy trying to shove his horny brain back into his mental closet, Steve pulls a multitool out of his back pocket and flips the knife open. 

“I’m assuming you have one of your own?” Steve asks, entirely too calm for this shit, as if it’s completely normal to – what, invite Eddie to a fucking knife fight in his living room? 

Eddie blinks and does the only thing he can think of while he fumbles for the switchblade he keeps in his pocket: he runs his fucking mouth. 

“Aw, so it was just a knife in your pocket after all, huh, Harrington? I thought you were just happy to see me.”

Robin and Jonathan boo him from their respective seats while Steve rolls his eyes, grabs Eddie’s collar and hauls him to his feet. 

“If you’re too chickenshit to shotgun for the title, Munson, just say it,” Steve croons before shanking a hole into the side of his beer can, popping the top, bringing the hole to his mouth and sucking, hard.