I've got brainrot about 2 idiots from the 80s

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written for @steddiemicrofic's august prompt: 🕳️ ‘hole’ 🕳️

rated M | 606 words | cw: American-style underage drinking (in that they're like 20) | tags: hole discussions, talking & drinking, Robin Buckley POV, euphemisms

[AO3 link]

“You know how some guys like a finger up the butt when they’re whackin’ it?”

As soon as the words leave Eddie’s mouth, Robin’s at attention. Leaning against the Winnebago, Steve and Eddie share a bottle of vodka, talking softly while everyone’s sleeping.

Robin isn’t, though. Can’t stop thinking about the end of the world. Plus, they’re right by her open window.

She’d considered chewing them out or demanding a swig, but she’s intrigued by how earnest Steve is with Eddie despite Eddie flirting his little ass off.

That goes well beyond tongue-in-cheek flirting, though. That’s gay—like, actually gay. Steve better ask questions because Robin doesn’t have gay peers, since Vickie—whatever.

“Uh,” Steve replies. “Not really.” Robin curses him internally. Luckily, their psychic link must be operational because he backtracks. “No, yeah, guys talk about that in the locker room sometimes. So—that’s your thing?”

“Kinda,” Eddie mumbles. “I like a little more than a finger.”

“Like what?”

“Like… two. Three, sometimes. A hairbrush handle. S’all good.”

“Mm.” Another swig. “Didn’t think you owned a hairbrush.”

Whatever ship you feel like writing!

It is, to be fair to himself, pretty disgusting.

“Oh my god, hk-okay, I’m okay, it’s–” Eddie makes himself shut his mouth. He can feel how much blood has left his face to pool in his feet, abandoning him in his time of great need.

Eddie makes himself turn away, trying to banish the sight from his memory. He lists all the chords in Master of Puppets from start to finish, calming his churning stomach.

He jolts as a hand lands on his shoulder. “You okay, man?” Steve asks.

Eddie swallows and closes his eyes, forcing out a shaky breath. “Yeah, yep. Just peachy. It’s not like I’m the one with a bone sticking out of my skin right now.” Normally, he would be embarrassed by how squeaky his voice has become in front of his crush, but he’s in a crisis right now.

Watching Lucas and Steve shoot hoops before Hellfire had become a bit of a tradition. Ostensibly, it was a way to mend bridges, to ensure that all people in their little apocalypse cohort felt seen and welcome, jocks included.

In reality, it was a convenient excuse for Eddie to ogle his crush without anyone noticing. Steve, sweaty and glistening, leg muscles taut and attention singularly focused, was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen. Plus, he was cute when he was competitive. A couple of well placed heckles had Steve running around trying to prove a point, letting Eddie indulge in fantasies of having a boyfriend who liked to show off for him.

It was a good deal. An hour of lusting and daydreaming.

Until Lucas hit the deck hard and his pinky bent out of place.

“Okay, well, nothing is sticking out, just a break, but I’ll give it to you, it looks pretty nasty.” Steve’s hand rubs comforting circles across his back, sending tingles all the way down to his toes. Today has been havoc on his nervous system.

After a second, he feels brave enough to take a peek back at the group around Lucas. Max, well versed in broken fingers from years of skateboarding, took over for Steve once the finger was splinted. Lucas looks a little pale and is taking big, heaving breaths, but Max has him laughing already.

Steve squeezed the back of his neck. “You ready to get back in there, champ? We gotta get that kid of ours to the hospital.” Steve’s face is so close that Eddie can feel his breath on his face. Eddie’s neck is definitely sweaty, but Steve keeps his hand where it is.

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Yeah, yes. Can’t leave my lovely wife to slave away over our children on his own. I’m good.” Steve gives him the look he does every time Eddie calls him his wife, which is a mix of exasperation and something Eddie is too scared to name directly.

Steve squeezes his neck one more time, just a little harder than before, and lets go. Eddie has to fumble for the set of keys Steve tosses to him as he walks away, calling back. “You’re driving. You better not throw up on the wheel.”

Hail Lord Tiddy

Bonus:

lets have a little experiment i post a wip and hope it doesnt get more notes then the finished version in case i actually finish it

Then, Steve let out another groan as he rolled onto his side, facing Eddie. “The spinsss…” he whined, squeezing his eyes tighter. Before Eddie could regain control of his limbs, his hand was reaching over and massaging Steve’s head, fingers playing with his hair slowly. “These are the consequences of your actions, Stevie,” because now that Eddie knew he liked that name so much, he had a feeling he was gonna have a hard time calling him much else.

based on this ask that @chickensoupforthehomosoul​ sent me 🤭

version without the speech bubbles under the cut in case anyone wants it ⬇️