#stmarchmadness

“There’s a manual? Should Alphas and Omegas, really… Uuuuuh, does Buckley know?”

“About the manual? Or you still fretting about the Alpha thing? If so, no, I don’t think she knows.” Steve tidies Eddie’s things away into boxes and draws. Eddie usually hates anybody touching his precious horde. He doesn’t mind Steve doing it. Maybe he’s too dog-tired to care. “Betas don’t pick these things up so well.” 

“Is she gonna kill me?”

“Depends.” Steve pauses to lick his lips and they’re all shiny and wet. “Gonna be straight with you—the manual says I shouldn’t snuggle with Alphas till I’m more experienced and learned about contracts and shit. But Robin and Henderson tell me you’re a good dude. So, are you gonna eat me?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Cool. Robin will be fine. Look, we’re both wearing blockers, right?”  Seriously? How delicious does Steve smell without them? “And you’re taking suppressants?” Eddie nods. “Great. Me too. All we have to do is avoid scenting each other, rubbing any parts together. Now, chill, Eddie. I’m getting stress vibes, and that’s not gonna help. I’ll make this place more nest-like, then we get down to business.”

Steve gets on with ‘nesting’ the place up and pulls more squashed cushions from his knapsack than seems physically possible. Eddie lies on his bed, fingers laced behind his head and watches. Which is fun. Then not fun, when it occurs that ogling Steve’s ass is probably not textbook Snuggle Services behaviour. 

He closes his eyes and breathes Steve in. Damn, Steve’s scent is even more fragrant and sweet tonight than the ‘sleepy honey’ tealights he’s distributing about the place.

Eddie is starting to chill a bit. Then he opens his eyes and mumbles something about not expecting Steve to be into all this domestic baloney.

“Look, I’m an Omega! It’s so annoying that everyone presumes I’m non-traditional, because I’m into sports and shit too.”

 “Sorry, dude.”

“Nah, don’t apologise. I’m sorry for going off on one. Hey, you want a quick shoulder massage?”  That sounds pretty nice. Steve kneels behind him on the bed and gets his thumbs right into Eddie’s super-tense trap muscles. “Honestly, tho’,” sighs Steve, while Eddie leans into the Omega’s touch, which feels incredible. “I reckon I’d love homemaking and nestbuilding if I was Beta or Alpha or whatever.” 

Soon, Eddie’s shoulders are tingling, and when Steve stops the shoulder rub, he almost growls. Instead, he sinks into Steve’s nest of soft fuzzy cushions, intermingled with Eddie’s own bedding. Steve skips off then returns wearing a ridiculously cute pair of Winnie the Pooh PJs, with short lace-trimmed pants that cling to the shallow swell of his hips. He looks so soft and Omega. He’s also displaying a swathe of lickable thigh, and, when he stretches his arms in a yawn, he flashes a hint of creamy tummy.

Gnnnnng. 

How is Eddie supposed to sleep when his inner Alpha is baying for the energy to jump Steve’s bones?

The hot milky drink Steve offers distracts him slightly. “It’s spiced with hops, lavender and a little touch of celia.” Steve explains that celia, which tinges the milk a pretty pink, is a herb that grows wild in the forest. It’s rare, and blends with the hops, cherry and lavender to concoct a deliciously relaxing blend. It all rings a distant bell, actually. Eddie is pretty sure his granny used it for the same reason, and he’d totally forgot. 

He takes a sip. Hops, earth-mint and hints of mysteria blunova tingle against his tastebuds, mixed with the punchy cherry and smoky lavender. He blurts it out before he can stop himself: “Woah! This is delicious. It tastes a little bit like you, Steve.”

Steve beams. “Yeah, that’s what Robin said. It’s one of the reasons I thought this could be a good career move.”

Eddie savors every last drop, including his milk moustache. Finally, Steve mildly scolds him for suggesting music at bedtime. “No way! It’ll spoil our rhythms. You know, breathing and purring and all the sleepy stuff.”

“Ever thought of bringing a whip to these little parties, Mistress?”

Steve smirks: “Wasn’t in the manual.”

They get down to the business of snuggling. Eddie prays to a dozen deities that he won’t get an erection. 

In the event, it goes better than expected.

Steve curls against his side, head tucked beneath Eddie’s chin, and Eddie folds an arm over him, his lightly brushing fingers avoiding any bare flesh. With an Omega this close, Eddie knows he must be perfuming a bit, but Steve is out like a light. Eddie’s nerves settle soon enough. A gentle heat thrums between them, and Steve’s scent, mingled with the sweet smelly candles, makes every breath a comfort.

Robin is right in that Steve isn’t a miracle cure for insomnia. Doesn’t matter. Eddie feels relaxed and sleepy, tho’ when Steve starts snuffling into Eddie’s chest, it’s so damn cute, he pries his heavy eyelids wide to watch.

As Steve’s sleep gets deeper, Eddie’s breaths fall into sync. 

Wow, and Omegas really do purr in their sleep, and it feels freakin’ exquisite.

Eddie drifts off eventually—it’s shallow, but he gets about four hours, which is the best he’s had in a fortnight. He feels refreshed and waking with an Omega burrowed into him plants him immediately in a happy place. Steve is a little disappointed that Eddie didn’t sleep more:

“We should try again,” he says, gathering up his stuff. “Same time tomorrow?”

“You sure I shouldn’t pay you?” asks Eddie, even though it sounds a bit weird. And he literally has no spare cash.

“No way. Look, if I decide to go into this professionally, a reference would be cool.”

“From Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?”

“Why not? It looks better than from my mom.” Eddie isn’t sure about that. Steve adds, kind of sadly, “At least folk in this town still remember who you are.”

Huh?

Steve comes back the following night, and they hang out and chill before bedtime. Once they’re in the nest, Steve drops off so fast that Eddie’s barely got his arms around him. This time, when Steve snuffles into his chest, Eddie gets a semi. He breathes through it, brushes a thumb, featherlight, across Steve’s cheek, and simply enjoys watching the Omega sleep.

The next night, they talk. More than Eddie’s talked to anybody in a while. Even to Wayne, who’s always ready to make time, tho’ he’s usually exhausted too, from constant nightshifts.

“Why do you keep it a secret?” asks Steve, as Eddie sips some silky-luscious cream-topped hot chocolate that Steve has mixed with the sleepy herbs.

“Huh?” Eddie’s tired head is back in default mode, stuffed with cotton wool.

“Being an Alpha, dude.”

Oh right. He licks the cream from his lips, plops his mug down on the floor besides the beanbag they’re snuggling on.

“I like being a ‘freak’ for my sweet tatties and totally metal hair. Or what counts for it these days.” 

He scrunches the lank mess. 

Steve—with what might’ve been an excited squeak—moves around the back of the beanbag and starts brushing Eddie’s hair. It’s the second time he’s done this, and it feels amazing, even the snags and tugs. Scratch that, especially the snags and tugs. How the heck does Steve do it without any sting? 

Eddie forces his mind onto the matter in hand. “I don’t wanna be infamous for what I can do with my dick. Besides, my old man was an Alpha. The whole Hawkins pack would assume more than ever that I was his clone. Chief Alpha Hopper would either dump my ass in jail or run me outta town.”

Steve hisses sympathetically. He rubs circles on Eddie’s scalp, scratching lightly with his nails. It feels so good Eddie’s toes curl.

“I get that,” says Steve. “I’m happy you can wait till the time is right.  Honestly, I wanted to curl in a corner and die of humiliation for six months after I outed myself. You learn to roll with it.”

Eddie’s grimace is heartfelt: “Sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a coward?”

“Don’t be dumb.” And he’s halfway into Eddie’s lap again, cheek nestling above Eddie’s heart, offering a soul-warming, full-body hug. “You’ve been on your own since you were a kid. You’ve had Wayne, but it’s been tough. Alphas need to be looked after too. You know, learn to trust.” 

He gives a sudden brittle laugh.

“Steve?”

“Oh, it’s kinda funny. Me spouting this shit like I’m some kind of authority. My parents trust me a bit too much. I mean, since I presented... they’re like… out of town. Permanently.”

“Wow.” Eddie tentatively moves to pet Steve’s hair, and Steve lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

“They don’t say it out loud, but… I’m pretty sure it’s because I shamed them. It’s all right. I got people I trust. Robin, Dustin... and... erm, others.”

Eddie’s heart gives a sharp squeeze. Everyone knew the story of the fall of King Steve. He supposed—like everyone else, probably—that Steve still had a bunch of people around him to help pick up the pieces. Now, he doesn’t know what to say. He tries, “Do you count the town’s most closeted Alpha freak among that body of worthies?” 

“Sure. I trusted you super-quick, didn’t I? Besides, you’re really not that freakish, certainly not in a bad way. Sssssh, don’t worry, I won’t ‘out’ you on that either.” Steve’s giggle warms up again. His arms tighten around Eddie, whose cheek finds Steve’s hair. 

He loses himself in the cuddle.

Okay, his dick twitches with interest as Steve sprawls fully on top of him, weight pressuring into Eddie’s lap. He tries to ignore it. 

After a week, sleeping with Steve is pretty routine. Steve’s stopped taking his cushions home at night. The nest is basically nested in. They even begin listening to music before lights out—psychedelic Pink Floyd, mainly, which is about as mellow as Eddie gets. He still takes hours to drop off, while Steve is quick as ever. Having a soft purry Omega in his arms is almost as good as sleep anyhow, as is having a proper nest swaddled around him. Soon Eddie is pushing the six-hour mark.

He ‘outs’ himself to Gareth and the guys. Gareth rolls his eyes and mumbles, “We know. Took your sweet time, asshole.”

He grovels for forgiveness in a truly un-Alpha fashion, and Jeff flips the bird then offers a chummy hug. It feels so good not having to hide from his best buds.

When Steve massages his shoulders that night, he notices that Eddie’s “loosened up something wild. You finally spilled? Go Eddie!”

The next few days, Eddie grins broadly at everyone he passes in the street, flashing his Alpha fangs. He’s gotten his swagger back. The ‘freak’ is out and proud and back in business. Hopper doesn’t hound him out of town. He hands Eddie an application form for the police force, which is plain baffling.

That weekend, there’s a strange tartness to Steve’s scent. Eddie’s nostrils flare, concern sparking in his gut. He offers Steve a shoulder rub, and after a bit of squirming, Steve accepts, and following some gentle persuasion, he opens up.

His parents made a flying visit. They didn’t notice that the sheets on Steve’s bed were covered in dust. Nor noticed or cared that Steve left the house after an awkward dinner and never came home again. When he returned in the morning, they were gone.

Eddie pulls Steve into his lap and clasps him to his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles across Steve’s hip and lower back, and he inhales, exhales, deep and even, coaxing Steve’s choppier than usual breaths into rhythm with his.

 When Steve gets sleepy, he carries the Omega to the nest.

The Omega who loves to care for people, and yet is barely noticed by the wider pack, and has no family around to care for him.

The Omega who radiates relaxation and sweetness all rolled up into a bundle of sexy yum, with big hazel-brown eyes that’d soothe anybody’s soul.

Eddie blankets himself around Steve, so desperate to console the Omega that he’s suddenly worried he’s squishing him. He loosens his hold slightly. Steve sighs, rolls over in the circle of Eddie’s arms, and buries his face hilariously close to Eddie’s sweaty pit. Eddie cackles softly.

Nuzzling straight into the pit? Fucking brave. How could anybody of any designation not want to build a nest around Steve? 

That night, Eddie starts having wildly lucid dreams about domestic bliss with Steve. The dreams soon become as routine as sleeping together.

In Eddie’s slumbers, they’ve gotten their own little Winnebago, and they’re building a truly family-sized nest in it, woven with all their favorite things. They’re baking together too, starting with banoffee pie, which is Eddie’s top fave dessert, tho’ they develop quite the repertoire—cookies, muffins, chocolate brownies, blueberry pancakes. 

Nothing sexual happens, thank the Gods of Metal. Unless you count the dream where Eddie buys Steve a pair of fuzzy bear slippers to match his cute lacy PJs. He kneels before his… the… Omega to slide them on and might’ve planted a light peck on Steve’s ankle. Okay, his inner thigh. Either way, a slight case of morning wood is inevitable when Eddie wakes with Steve, so he’s relieved things don’t get more raunchy than that. 

The last thing he wants is a raging boner.

Then they kiss.

It is definitely part of the dream. They’re cooking in their stupidly cramped little kitchen, and suddenly Steve is nuzzling up his throat, rubbing and scenting, and his soft snuffles and purrs are too darn much. Eddie gently rests his hand on Steve’s head, holding him in place, no pressure. Eddie’s thumb toys with the hair at Steve’s nape, while Steve’s mouth drifts ever upward.

Then his lips capture Steve’s for a slow, lazy kiss. He licks the seam of Steve’s mouth. Steve opens for him, sliding his tongue slickly and sweetly against Eddie’s. The kiss tastes amazing. Not of the key-lime pie they were baking in the dream, but of lavender, hops and celia—the herbs in those amazing milky drinks Steve makes—and a hint of Eddie’s freshly cut grass and leather.

Too delicious. Too much. Too darn hot.

Eddie growls into the kiss like a ravenous grizzly, his every fiber heating and hardening. He wants Steve so bad, and not only to fuck him. They’re lightyears beyond that, and he moves his mouth to Steve’s neck. The Omega vibrates with irresistible little purrs, mewling with need for...

Eddie wakes up. 

Eddie’s got Steve clamped against his side, pretty much trapped there. Steve’s gotten one bare leg hitched up, spreading himself, and Eddie’s hand is wrapped, claw-like, around Steve’s thigh. The Omega’s chin is wedged on Eddie’s shoulder, his face tipped up. Their mouths are so close the air between them is moist with their fast, panted breaths. 

Steve doesn’t look scared or angry, only pink-cheeked and sleepily confused, blinking mussed hair from his eyes.

It’s a look Eddie’s grown to adore.

Their mingled scents are so thick Eddie could chew on them.

And he’s so freakin’ hard he’s concerned he’s gonna pop a knot.

He releases Steve so abruptly the Omega squeaks and rolls out of the nest, taking half the cushions with him.

“Shit! Sorry!”

He helps Steve up off the floor, then leaves him sitting on the edge of the bed. Eddie backs toward the door.

“What’s wrong?” asks Steve, nervously fingering his not-quite-kissed mouth.

“Uh… I don’t think what I nearly just did was in your Snuggle Services manual.”

“Oh.” Steve bites the bottom lip that Eddie is ravenous for. Sucks it in a way that makes his dick waaaay too interested.

“Sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Eddie stomps off to the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, he realizes he’s had eight hours of undiluted sleep. 

Christ, he needs strong coffee and a cold shower. 

“What the heck are you sorry about?” asks Steve, hurrying after him. “You wanted it, right? You wanted to kiss me?” There’s a little wobble in Steve’s voice, something fragile that punches Eddie right in the solar plexus. “I wanted it, Eddie. I guess I should be the sorry one. We’ve been dream-sharing for days now.”

“Dream-sharing?  Is that a thing?”

“Jesus, you’re clueless!” Steve tosses his arms up in despair. “Look, that is in the manual. Alphas and Omegas dream-share a lot. Normally, when they’re mated, but not always, and, you know, all the homemaking and nesting and stuff. Our… Um, I mean, the nest. It’s not necessarily a tentative mating bond thing between us. Simply suggests you’re ready to… you know… settle down. With somebody. Doesn’t have to be me.”

Eddie buries all eight fingers deep in his insanely messy hair, feels the blood throb in his temples. He isn’t ready for this. Building a nest to aid relaxation is one thing. Actually nesting? No way. Then, after about ten seconds of earth-shattering, soul-searching silence, he realizes he is ready. 

To nest with Steve.

The tug in his heart towards this Omega is epic. Has been for weeks.

He's never wanted anything more in his life. 

Steve is starting to huddle into himself, arms hooking around his ribs, eyes large and liquid. Eddie’s surge of protective vibes is a stronger wake-up call than any coffee, and he hopes Steve’s senses it.

He sees Steve, properly sees him, and it feels like he’s woken up from the longest sleep ever. An Omega obsessed with looking after people, even Alphas. An Omega so desperate to help and connect and belong that he offers no-strings-attached Snuggle Services.

For free.

He built Eddie a nest. He offered to look after Eddie, when they weren’t even friends. Now, he wants Eddie to be the one looking after him.

It’s so freakin’ special. Eddie feels the hot push of tears in his throat and eyes.

“Yeah, I wanted to kiss you, Steve,” he says, slowly edging forward. The idea of rejecting Steve… Wow, it makes him feel physically sick. “You’re quite sure you wanted it?”

“Jesus, how many times? Please, Eddie. Please want me. Please, please, please be my Alpha.”

“Don’t beg, Baby. You never have to beg.” It’s the closest Eddie has ever come to an Alpha bark.

Steve flies into Eddie’s opening arms, and they scent each other properly. Kisses happen for real, and a ton of running fingers through hair, and then plenty of bumping and grinding against the sink. Steve’s fists ball in Eddie’s t-shirt and cling. Eddie lifts him onto the kitchen counter without breaking a kiss, and slides between his legs. Soon, they’re gasping, sobbing and laughing, literally as one.

That evening, they go on their first date. Steve admits he doesn’t think he could ever want to snuggle with anybody other than Eddie again. Which is fortunate, because Eddie admits he’d probably die of jealousy or possibly rip Steve’s Snuggle Services clients’ throats out. They leave the bar early, to get back to Eddie’s and start to make their dreams reality.

Their fingers twine together as they knead the pastry. The banoffee pie is the best Eddie’s tasted, especially when he’s licking the cream filling from the corner of Steve’s mouth. They dream out loud about owning their own little Winnebago one day, about filling it with pups.

They go back to their nest.

Neither of them gets much sleep.

💕💕💕💕💕

my steddie fic on AO3