Nerd Blog

“Eddie,” Steve breathed. It was so soft and tender he had to peek and see his face.

He let out his own shocked gasp as instead of the expected pull away, Steve’s hot breath puffed against the naked skin of his hip. Staring down into his dilated eyes, Eddie allowed himself to hope.

They both stammered at the same time, over each other, aghast.

“Y-you uh, you’re okay with this?”

“Can I- oh fuck, please let me?”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

“What?”

Steve pulled back a bit, making Eddie wince. Then he watched the confusion turn to outright delight. A smirk settled across his face and Eddie realized he was really in trouble.

“Has anyone touched you before, baby?”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, cockiness winning out against his embarrassment. “Yeah,” he started strong, but then deflated as he remembered what ultimately followed. He looked away, giving a one shouldered shrug. “I mean, you know, I get it. It’s not, um, what people expect, or whatever.”

Steve hummed, seeming to try to school his features into something pensive. Failing, but trying. “Can I?”

Eddie gave some sort of affirmative, then gasped again as instead of the rough fingertips he expected, Steve immediately ducked his head to lathe his hot tongue over the sensitive head of his dick.

“Ah!” He almost pushed him away, the sensation too much and, yes, a completely new one.

Steve looked up at him, checking, then with another flash of a knowing smirk, flicked his tongue over the tiny thing. Eddie tried to memorize every second, sure at any moment he’d back up and politely explain how he couldn’t adequately perform any favors on this unfortunate appendage he had to call a dick.

“Breathe, Eds,” Steve chuckled into his skin.

The laugh made him bristle, expecting the other shoe to drop, but then the words and his fucking gorgeous face warmed him.

“It’s, there’s, ah,” he chuckled himself. Words were hard. “You’re good.”

Once it landed, he groaned. He had meant for it to be a question, or at the very least an appreciative statement. Instead of the dull observation. He tried to cover his face with his hands but they were pulled down.

“Well thanks,” Steve beamed at him, undeterred. “But you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

Eddie was well aware of the talents of Steve Harrington, both from hushed hallway conversations in high school and long afternoons spent making out wherever they could. He’d been surprised that Steve had permitted his subtle excuses to outright refusals to allow his hands to breach southern territories until now.

Steve did something with his tongue and Eddie moaned. “You’re thinking too much up there,” he complained good-naturedly. “Could give a guy a complex.”

Eddie assented, relaxing back to watch intently, letting his hands rake through Steve’s thick hair, not daring to steer but simply holding on.

So Robin agrees to carry a baby for her single best friend Steve. There's no way he can afford IVF on a teacher's salary so they settle on the old fashion way instead. Ew, no, not that! At-home artificial insemination. Robin gets some hormone shots, Nancy throws them a party, and Steve jizzes in a cup. One problem though, Eddie had to use the bathroom really bad after Steve... did his thing and he accidentally knocked over the cup. Now Steve's little swimmers are swimming down the drain.

Robin has been complaining about how awful and crazy the hormone shot made her feel. Offhandedly earlier that night, Eddie heard her grumble at Steve, "I'm only giving you this one chance, Dingus. If your jock sperm can't kick a home run then it just wasn't meant to be." So Eddie has two choices, tell everyone what he did, effectively dashing Steve's chance at fatherhood, or refill the cup.

"Looks like someone forgot this in the bathroom," Eddie announces as he holds the refilled cup aloft, just out of reach of Nancy who appointed herself the official inseminator. "Give me that," she demands, between tiny hops. He watches her struggle for a few more seconds before giving up the goods.

Over the next few months, Eddie doesn't give it another thought. When Robin announces that the baby is kicking during the baby shower, Eddie stays firmly in his seat, completely uninterested in the parasitic presence gestating inside his friend. It isn't until Steve introduces him to the new baby that the weight of his decision hits him. As their eyes meet, Eddie can't help but notice that the new life Steve is holding has his dark brown eyes and his curly brown hair. Fuck, he can't just let Steve raise his kid. He'll end up dressing him in khaki and letting him listen to Top 40s music.

But the kid isn't really his, he realizes as Steve coos down at the baby, jiggling him up and down to soothe his fussing. It's their baby! Somehow, he and Steve made a baby together and they haven't even had sex yet. Eddie has no way to break that information to Steve without also breaking his heart in the process. But maybe he doesn't have to, maybe he can just finally make that move he's always been too scared to make before. Maybe he can have the baby, the boyfriend, the whole package!

Foot in hand, Eddie checks him over. Good news? He isn't bleeding. Eddie sees no glass, no cut. No major disaster. Bad new? There is a red mark on the sole of Steve's foot that Eddie is sure hurts like hell. 

"What'd you step on?" Eddie asks, and if looks could kill, Eddie would most certainly be dead. "I'll find it. Don't worry."

And Eddie starts feeling around the laminate flooring, still half-asleep. He didn't know he was going on a scavenger hunt tonight.

Eventually, Eddie finds the offender. A tiny Micro Machines car. 

Oh, that's definitely Eddie's bad. But to be fair, this is his room. Eddie doesn't go into Steve's home gym, hurt himself, and then blame Steve. And come on, he only dropped that weight on his foot once. He learned. Steve will learn, too.

Eddie had been experimenting with a modern day campaign, just for something new and different, and had found the tiny cars to be perfect. Clearly one of them got away from him. Whoops. 

They do have wheels. He can't be blamed totally.

Eddie kneels in front of him.

"Sorry," Eddie says, picking Steve's foot back up. He's not a foot guy, but this is Steve's foot and he is definitely a Steve guy. He places a kiss on the bottom of Steve's arch in apology. "Is that better?" 

"I can't tell," Steve complains. "Better do it again, just for good measure." 

He's taking advantage. Goading him. Eddie wouldn't have it any other way. 

Eddie kisses the spot again, and relishes the smile that Steve gives him, his annoyance melting away. Eddie's good at making that happen. If he wasn't, they never would have made it this far.

"Thank you. Now, I have something else you could kiss," Steve says, and Eddie is totally game for that. That's much more enticing to him than feet will ever be.

"Oh yeah? Just for me?" Eddie asks, running his hands up Steve's thighs.

"Just for you."

"Is that why you were coming to collect me? You needed a little something, something tonight?"

Steve laughs, and Eddie offers him his hands, helping him to his feet. 

"Sure, we'll say that," Steve teases, and reaches over to turn off the music that's playing probably just a little too loud.

Oh.

Still. Eddie won't look a gift horse in the mouth. 

"To bed!" Eddie says with authority and excitement, as Steve hobbles along in front of him, Eddie hitting the light switch as they exit.

Eddie will really have to make it up to him tonight.

They already had a battle over which new movie they were going to see tonight. Eddie did not want to see Look Who's Talking Too starring John Revolting. That's what Eddie likes to call him, when he's trying to piss Steve off.

It works. So he keeps doing it.

Eddie wanted to see Edward Scissorhands. 

As a compromise, they saw Look Who's Talking Too.

Eddie's never beating the dick-whipped allegations, but he doesn't care. He enjoys their bantering far more than he'll ever care about actually getting his way.

Steve wheels the cart down the juice aisle, not slowing a bit. Eddie has to reach down and scoop up three cans of Hi-C and jog to catch up, listening to them slosh in the tin cans, before placing them in the cart with thuds.

"Do we need all that?" Steve asks, not even looking to see what he's objecting to.

"Obviously," Eddie answers, and they keep moving. 

Eddie grins to himself. He wouldn't change anything, honest. He's with Steve Harrington and Steve loves him a whole fucking lot. That's never been in question.

Their relationship shouldn't work, and yet. Somehow it does. Quite well.

"No, no, no, what are you doing? Stop that!" Steve yells, hands full of grocery bags. Eddie freezes. Knife in hand.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"You're gonna cut your fingers off," Steve bitches, dropping the bags on their kitchen table before reaching forward to snatch the pocket knife from his hand. Eddie pulls it back, out of his reach.

"No, I'm not, I'm just opening this can," Eddie argues.

"With a knife? A dull knife?"

Eddie scoffs, "My pocket knife is not dull."

That's offensive.

Wayne would never stand for that. Eddie learned how to sharpen a knife young. And Wayne also taught him how to use one to open a can. Which he was trying to do, until Steve came along, screeching like a banshee.

Steve's hands find his hips. He's ridiculous. A clucking mother hen.

"I just want some Ecto Cooler while we put away the groceries, so I'm gonna need you to chill the fuck out."

"You need a church key," Steve says, not chilling the fuck out for a single second.

Eddie rolls his eyes, watching as Steve bangs through all their kitchen drawers. Finally he pulls out a tool with a green handle. "Ha!"

Then, he nudges Eddie out of the way, and hooks the edge of it over the lip of the large can, popping the sharp point into it, leaving a little triangle punch.

Well, that's neat. They definitely didn't have one of those at home.

Steve rotates the can, and pops another hole on the other side so the juice can flow out with ease.

"There," Steve says, clearly proud of himself. "We all get to keep our fingers and don't have to pay for stitches. Again."

It was one time, and Steve will never let him live it down. Honestly. It was no big deal.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, because it's easier to just get on board, than fight about. He pours his glass of the electric green liquid, and then holds up the can in an offer to share.

Steve shakes his head, and Eddie puts it into the fridge, and gets to work helping Steve put away the groceries.

There are other benefits of date night.

Steve's fresh out of the shower and naked on the bed, ass up. Not that they need date night for this, they most definitely don't, but it's still nice to know that all the banter is leading up to this.

Steve's the boss. Eddie will never claim otherwise. Except here. Here? Steve likes Eddie to take charge. He likes Eddie to pull all his worries out, and toss them away. He wants Eddie to make him relax.

To make him chill the fuck out. And this is the only way Eddie knows how.

"Look at you, sweetheart," Eddie says, and Steve flexes his foot. The only sign that he's heard him.

Eddie sheds his clothes, climbing in bed, hands all over Steve.

"Is this what you were in such a hurry for?" Eddie asks, and Steve whines. Eddie's gonna take that as a yes. "Well, I'll take real good care of you. You'll see."

Steve sucks in a big breath, chest expanding, back rising, before releasing it again.

"That's good," Eddie says, covering Steve's back with his own body. Putting all his weight on Steve, grounding him, while shooing the stress of the day away.

Eddie works a hand between them, lifting his hips, and guiding the tip of his cock to Steve's opening. 

He's prepped and ready to go. He always is. Eddie knows the drill. And sure it'd be easier to do this, then lay on him, but this is part of the deal. 

Whatever their deal is. 

He pops past Steve's rim, and he's in. Pressing deep, still keeping as much weight on Steve as possible. Not doing much moving. Just content with being inside him for now. 

Steve sighs. A sound Eddie will always love to be the cause of. 

"I needed that." 

Eddie grins, pressing his cheek to Steve's, "I know you did."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: I was a major Ecto Cooler fan. I definitely spent time checking shelves for Shoutin’ Orange Tangergreen once the Ecto Cooler branding was phased out. It wasn't the same when it returned in 2016, or at least, my adult tastebuds just weren't as into it, which was a bummer. 😭

I see Steve as someone who is stubborn; prone to jealousy; not at all prone to ruminating. He's not really someone who feels responsible for the emotional states of the people around him. He doesn't get stuck in his head, and he's not really a big-picture guy. He lives in his body. He has a lot of (sometimes misplaced) confidence in his own ability to improvise and react, but his instincts are pretty good, so it usually (USUALLY) works out.

The way I write him, the worst part of Steve is his tendency to avoid challenging his own assumptions. He finds it very uncomfortable, and that's because of the best part of him: when the chips are down, when he does finally get to that point, he'll do the right thing even if it means upending his life. If he doesn't see or acknowledge it, he doesn't have to do that—but once he does, he won't turn away. He'll adapt. Ultimately, he is intensely values-driven.

My take on Eddie is that he's equally values-driven and adaptable. Like Steve, he's highly reactive and prone to acting on instinct in the moment…but crucially, he doesn't THINK he is. He's incredibly tuned-in to the emotional states of those around him in a way that Steve absolutely is not, but he mistakenly believes that this gives him mastery over his own emotion-driven impulses.