pairing: steddie | word count: 544 | rated: T

Eddie Munson has been hopelessly pining after Steve Harrington for years now.

So many years that the pain of longing has scarred over.

It’s still there, don’t get him wrong; some days it hits him just as bad as the day it first started, but, in general, it’s devolved from white-hot to chronic.

And now, as he watches the man of his literal fuckin’ dreams turn to walk away from him toward what could be his actual doom and leave Eddie and Dustin to the same, he can’t take it any longer.

 “Hey, Steve?”

This is it, all he has to do is ask for it; shouldn’t be too hard, right? He’s hoping against hope that Steve will take pity on the nerdy virgin freak in front of him, and just do it.

Eddie takes a quick breath, and says “....Kiss me.”

He doesn’t even ask. By semantics, he demands it, actually. Eddie tells Steve to be his first, and possibly last, kiss.  But right now, on the precipice of whatever the fuck is about to happen, he can’t bring himself to care.

Steve doesn’t have to know it’s his first kiss, doesn’t have to know what this would mean to him.

Eddie just looks at the younger man, watches indecipherable emotions flit across his face while Henderson flips his shit beside him (it’d be funny if Eddie wasn’t about to pass out and throw up from nerves simultaneously).

Then, against all odds, against Eddie’s very own Munson Doctrine, against all things that should even be possible—as if whatever being in the sky that had been bullied back to let all the others beat down on Eddie and his luck over the last three days got a second wind enough to toss him a scrap of good—Steve Harrington strides back, cups Eddie’s face in both hands, and kisses him soundly.

Steve’s lips slot between Eddie’s like they were made to be there, soft against Eddie’s chapped ones.

Steve’s face feels gross and grimy under Eddie’s nose, pressed into his cheek like it is.

And he smells.

Hell, Eddie undoubtedly smells like BO and old lake water, his breath for sure is a horrendous combination of morning breath, stale beer, and Spaghetti-o's, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Steve stinks, Eddie stinks, they’re both shaking with nerves and with the cold of this upside-down hellscape…and it’s amazing.

Eddie feels everything in him hum to life; The chill of Lover’s Lake that had clung stubbornly to his bones is just gone. Like it’d never been there. The connection to Steve is pouring everything new, beautiful, and wonderful in the world down into his toes. He could live in this moment for the rest of his life.

He feels like he’s glowing.

Eddie grabs the front of Steve’s new/old bomber jacket and tugs him as close to him as he can, his mouth chasing after Steve’s when they finally part.

Steve doesn’t go far, only pulling back enough to drop his forehead to Eddie’s.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Eddie.” he says, fanning hot, nasty breath of his own over Eddie’s nose. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “I’m not going anywhere, big boy.”

INKTOBER DAY 31: Fire

Ok look. I couldn't decide between the Tori at end of Solitaire fire and Georgia pushes away that one guy & almost sets him alight fire. And I know I could have ended on a well made piece, wow look at them draw, but NO! It's Tori and Georgia the asexual hellfire-Elmos!!!!

I committed The Horrors™