Archive of Our Own ^beta

Look, here’s the thing. Eddie Munson is an embarrassing person. He’s loud, excitable, annoying, and flamboyant. He flaps his arms and rants about propaganda while stepping on people’s sandwiches. He’s been acquitted of murder, and sentenced to a lifetime of social rejection. Shit, he’s as well-adjusted as he’s gonna get, and he’s not exactly adjusted to anything, beyond the horrors of the world and being a pseudo-brother-slash-friend of a bunch of teenagers. 

Anyway. Christ. To make a long story short, being seen with Eddie is not something people are breaking down his door to do. 

Well. Except for Steve Harrington, apparently. Not that he broke his door down or anything, but he did show up in Eddie’s driveway unannounced a week ago telling him to get in the car. 

Where are we going, hot shot? 

Steve had smirked. I was thinking Chicago. 

So, yeah. With a little bit of manoeuvring of plans, a pinch of grovelling at the garage Eddie works part-time at now, and a hastily packed rucksack, Steve and Eddie were on their way. To Chicago, apparently. 

And the thing is, it’s fun. It’s not like Eddie had thought it wouldn’t be— shit, Eddie can make a circus outta any situation, but, c’mon. A road trip with The Hair, the Bimmer, and the open roads does not a circus make. And still, Eddie finds himself throwing his head back with a cackle at Steve’s dry jokes more often than not. 

The first night they spend together on the road, they’re too exhausted to do much else than collapse into their respective hotel beds and start snoring. They're in Chicago, and in a couple of days they'll be somewhere else. Road trips are ingenious, Eddie decides. So much to do, so much to see, people to become and be.

They have a late start the next day, electing to take their time looking at each other over coffee, instead of rushing off. 

In the mornings, Eddie learns quickly, Steve’s smile gets gentler. All of him is softer, more human: his hair stands on end, and his face gets a little sleep-puffy. It physically aches to look at him. 

Eddie’s not even safe in the goddamn car. Steve drives with one hand on the wheel, the other drumming lightly on his own thigh. Eddie has a thing for Steve’s hands. They’re just… They’re so big, and tan, and when he flexes them… Jesus Christ. 

That’s not to mention his douchey sunglasses. And his nose. And the flecks of green in his honey-brown eyes. And— 

Okay, he’s getting distracted. 

The point is. 

The point is, Steve may as well be a demi-god amongst men, as rose-coloured as Eddie’s glasses are. He’s aware he’s being stupid, thank you very much. Steve is, it turns out, a good dude, which is, as Argyle would say, right on. What’s not right on is the fact that Eddie’s brain seems to think that means it’s allowed to develop very big, very gay feelings for the guy. 

Eddie’s crush is almost a tangible thing. He feels like Steve might be catching on sometimes (and he wouldn’t blame him, for all the staring he does), but the guy’s always hastily looking away when Eddie tries to sneak a peek at him. 

Five days in, Steve nearly gives Eddie a heart attack. 

They’re in another stuffy motel room, and Eddie’s pretty sure Steve’s light snoring isn’t what woke him up. Rolling over without opening his eyes, Eddie tries to settle again. Tomorrow’s gonna be a good day. Sunny, probably. They’ll get ice cream. Yeah. Sleep is just about to drag Eddie back under when he hears it: a soft but unmistakable moan. 

His eyes snap open. Heart thudding loudly, he strains to listen, and sure enough, Steve’s breathing’s gone a little funny. 

Is Steve having a nightmare? Should he… Wake him? But— what if he’s having a good dream? Jesus, a guy wouldn’t appreciate being shaken awake while dreaming about getting his dick wet. 

Eddie remains frozen in bed. 

Another moan, and then— Steve abruptly goes silent. After a long moment, Steve exhales, bed rustling as he shifts in bed. 

Another moment of silence, and then, suddenly, a quiet groan. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, face heating as he tries not to twitch. Fuck, is Steve—? 

The soft sound of skin-on-skin fills the room, and yep, Steve’s jerking off. Cool. Nice. Eddie should definitely be asleep. 

Fuck. 

Listening to Steve, Eddie’s cock slowly fills out in his boxers, his cunt getting slick. He’s on enough blockers to mask the scent, but holy shit, this is so stupid and risky. 

Another shuddery groan, and Steve’s pace quickens in the bed next to his. He seems to be tugging at himself fast and rough, the sound getting wetter with each minute that passes. Soon enough — too soon — his breathing quickens, and Eddie can picture how his stomach would flex, how his hand would wrap a loose fist around himself. 

Steve comes with a sharp, jagged inhale, bed squeaking as he does something — arches his back maybe? — and Eddie has to tuck his hands underneath him to keep from touching himself. 

Unlike Steve, who, after a quick visit to the bathroom, rolls over and goes back to snoring almost immediately, Eddie lies awake for a long time.

Fuck. 

“Fuck.” 

They’re on day nine of their little cruise through the states, and Eddie’s standing in front of the full-body mirror. His eyes are glued to the massive wet spot on his boxers, to the slick slowly slipping down his thighs, to the evidence. To the fuckery of it all. 

In a screwed up way, it makes sense. This is just another dose of the ol’ Munson luck. A surprise heat, thousands of miles away from home, with Steve Harrington downstairs getting them breakfast before they hit the road again. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Of course Eddie survives the bats and the hellish dimension hidden beneath the Hawkins asphalt and the murder accusations just to end up stranded here, now. Jesus, he’s hyperventilating. Is he having a panic attack? He presses a hand to his chest and stares himself in the eye, mirror-him offering no solution either. 

The thing is, Eddie’s heats are bad. Not worse than any other omega’s he knows, but notable enough to have warranted seeing a couple of specialists in his youth. He’s lucky in the sense that his heats don’t happen as often anymore, but he also has no idea when they’ll happen, and, well. Here he is. 

Yippie. 

He startles when the door handle suddenly turns, and with a yelp, he throws himself against it. 

“Eddie?” comes Steve’s muffled voice, a short knock following. 

“Uh—“ Eddie pauses, heart pounding. Steve could scent him in the air any second, the sweet, peachy notes his body produces; the sweat, the musk, the fear. “One— one second, man.” 

His eyes dart around for a solution, but, Jesus, there’s nothing he can do. No amount of suppressants can suppress a heat that's already started. 

Sighing heavily, Eddie leans his forehead against the door. 

“About going out tonight,” he starts, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Steve’s voice is muffled through the door as he replies, “Yeah?” 

“It’s not happening.” 

“What?” Steve sounds a little bitchy even through the door, something rustling like he’s readjusting a bag he’s carrying. “Why not?” 

Eddie laughs nervously, face twisting into a grimace. His throat clicks when he swallows around the panic. “I’m, uh… I’m in heat.” 

This time, when Steve tries the door handle, Eddie lets him in. 

Instantly, Eddie’s hit with a wave of Steve’s scent. His knees nearly buckle at the familiar musk; the brown sugar and cardamom and syrup as overwhelming as it is calming. Steve always smells good, like something Eddie could eat (or bury his face in), but it's more now that Eddie’s every sense is tuned to notice him. 

The second Steve steps inside, dressed in yesterday’s hoodie and shorts, his nostrils flare, eyes widening. 

Safe, a primal part of Eddie whispers. 

Please God no, logical-Eddie whispers back. 

“You’re in heat,” Steve echoes belatedly, face oddly blank. 

“Sure am,” Eddie says, a little hysterical as he tries to shove his screaming instincts to the side, focusing instead on holding a pair of sweats in front of his groin. There’s no point putting them on when the slick’s just gonna soak through them in a matter of minutes anyway. 

Eyes flickering between the sweats and Eddie’s face, Steve swallows. His throat clicks in the quiet room. 

“Did—“ Steve hesitates. “Did you know you were… About to, y’know?” 

“I’m on suppressants,” Eddie says quickly, heart pounding, because Steve disapproves, Steve probably thinks he’s disgusting now, and Eddie’s brain is screaming at him. “I swear to fuck, man. I schedule my– my heats, right? But they’re irregular as shit. It’s like my body’s had enough of behaving, and there’s–” 

“Eddie. Eddie,” Steve interrupts, eyes wide and earnest. “It’s okay.” 

Eddie barks a hoarse laugh that morphs into a groan, stomach cramping suddenly. He grits his teeth to say, “This is so far from okay, Steve.” 

“No, look,” Steve swallows, cheeks pink because Eddie’s fucking leaking slick, Jesus Christ, “This isn’t your fault. Your body’s probably freaking out because it’s still recovering, okay? You almost– you almost died like, three months ago, man. I remember after Starcourt, my hormones were crazy for ages. The body knows the mind, or whatever.” 

Eddie stares at him, valiantly ignoring the way his head’s spinning. Finally, with a small smile, he says, “Or whatever.” 

Steve huffs a laugh, hands twitching by his sides. Then he hesitates. “Look, I can get out of here, but I wanna get you what you need first, if that’s cool.” 

If he wasn’t so busy trying to cross his legs to abate a flood of arousal, Eddie would’ve blinked at him. He leans heavily against the desk instead. “Huh?” 

“Water, snack bars, ice, you know,” Steve lists off, adorably flustered. “That kinda thing.” 

“If you’re—“ Eddie starts to say, only to double over with a pained groan, body seizing. 

“Eddie?” Steve makes as if to move, only to freeze when Eddie’s hand shoots out. 

“It’s fine,” he gasps, clutching his stomach. It’s only going to get worse, he knows. Within the hour, give or take. Which… Sucks. Road trips wait for no man, but neither does an ill-timed heat. “Probably shouldn’t, uh, touch me, right now.” 

The cramps double. 

“Fuuuck, sorry—“ Eddie breathes, eyes shut tight against the onslaught of sensations rolling through his body. It’s as if a hand is actually touching him, dragging up and down his arms roughly, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Tearing his skin open just to yank harshly at his organs, twisting them like a fork in noodles. And all the while, like a cosmic joke, his heartbeat pulses steadily between his legs. It’s all he can do to hope he won’t collapse. 

Stop it, he tells his body. Please, stop it. 

He can feel Steve’s concerned gaze on him, so he does his best to push himself back up and offer him a shaky thumbs-up. 

“I’m good.” 

“I—“ Steve sighs, hands twitching like he's fighting the urge to touch Eddie, to help him. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t, like, fall or something before I get back, please.” 

Wheezing out a laugh, Eddie wobbles over to the bed and lies down, closing his eyes. 

“No braining of one Eddie Munson will occur in your absence, my liege,” he mumbles. He’s definitely got a fever now. Fuck. Nervously, he says, “Grab some painkillers for me while you’re out? I’ll pay you back.” 

“I’m not letting you pay me back, dumbass, but sure,” Steve says, and it sounds like he’s grabbing his wallet. “I’m locking the door, by the way.” 

Eddie huffs a weak laugh. “‘M not gonna let some random weirdo alpha in to fuck me, or anything, man.” 

It sounds like Steve chokes. “Okay. Be back in a minute.” 

Steve’s only gone a short while, but that short while is all it takes for Eddie to go from messy-but-sane to horny-sweaty-panting. 

There's no time to make a nest, and even if there had been, Eddie has nothing to make one with. His chest pulls tight, thinking about it, throat constricting with a no-bad-wrong feeling. He can’t scent anyone, anything safe. Everything smells like hotel detergent, nice but impersonal. 

Rubbing a circle over his underwear, Eddie debates the merits of taking a shower. He worries, though, that his heat-wobbly legs would give up on him if he managed to get himself to the bathroom, and quickly dismisses the idea. 

It’s just so… Demoralising, starting a heat already feeling disgusting. And alone. In an unknown city. With Steve fucking Harrington. 

He’s writhing on the bed with a hand down his underwear, pleasure slowly crawling up his spine, when he hears the key in the door turn, and with an agonised whimper, he yanks his hand back and wipes the slick on the duvet. When Steve rounds the hallway, Eddie has managed to sit up, sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, face surely as red and distressed as he feels. 

“Eddie,” Steve says softly, eyebrows pinched with concern. His eyes go a little wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“‘M fine,” Eddie pants, but he can’t look away from Steve. 

“No, you’re not,” Steve says, putting down the grocery bags on the floor and snatching a bottle of water up. He walks over to Eddie slowly, head ducked almost as if to show him he’s no threat, which is stupid, because Eddie knows that– shit, Eddie’s body knows that, if the way another pulse of slick starts its descent down his thighs is anything to go by. 

Steve’s nostrils flare when it happens, and Eddie’s fucking mortified, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands and cry. 

But Steve says nothing about it, setting the bottle down without a word before taking a wide step back, sitting down on his own bed. 

“Eddie,” Steve says, so quietly he almost misses it. But Eddie’s ears are tuned specifically to the frequency of Steve’s voice, so he looks up. 

When he does, Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lips again. “How… How far along is it? The heat?” 

Exhaling shakily, Eddie tries to shrug off the embarrassment. 

“Still pretty mild,” he mumbles, a shiver wracking through him. “Should get bad soon, though, so, uh. Get outta here while you still can.” 

The joke lands flat, if Steve’s pinched mouth is anything to go by. 

“I–” Steve exhales through his nose. Runs a hand through his hair. “Look, you can say no.” 

Eddie inclines his head. “To... To what?” 

When Steve doesn’t reply immediately, eyes on Eddie's lap, Eddie follows his line of sight. And- Eddie's got half a hand down his own underwear again, Christ. He snatches his hand back, ashamed. He hadn’t even felt his own hand move. Heats, man. 

Steve clears his throat, face pink again. “You can say no,” he repeats, “But, I could… Help you out.” 

Eddie frowns. “You already got me supplies, man.” 

“I meant– with the sex stuff.” 

And boy oh boy, if Eddie was thinking clearer he’d be doing jumping jacks in earnest. Shit, the embarrassed look on Steve’s face would normally be enough to fuel Eddie’s restless limbs into a full on dance routine. As it stands, Eddie’s sitting very still, panting, looking probably either deranged or constipated. 

What is he supposed to say? 

It’s okay, you are under no obligation to make me feel better just because you’re an alpha. But thanks! 

Upon reflection, yeah, actually. That’s exactly what he should say. 

“It’s cool if you don’t want me to,” Steve says, voice taking on a raspy quality. His pupils dilate when Eddie meets his gaze, making his eyes look almost black. “But I— I need to know, like, now, so I don’t make you uncomfortable.” 

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, feeling vaguely like a Victorian maiden, propped up and sickly. “I– are you sure? You don’t have to, man. I’ve done this alone before.” 

“I’m sure.” Steve looks at him so earnestly then, it’s impossible not to believe him. “I want to.” 

Eddie holds his breath, closing his eyes. 

Is he really going to do this? He knows there’s no going back if he does. But… He wants to. Has wanted to, for months now. And maybe indulging is stupid, but— it’s Steve. He doesn’t do things without being certain. And if this is a one-time thing, then Eddie's gotta make the most of it. 

Eyes fluttering open, Eddie nods once, sharply. “Okay. Okay, let's do it.” 

Steve’s let’s loose a breath, face softening with surprise. “Yeah?” 

Eyes never leaving Steve’s face, Eddie nods again. 

Steve moves slowly over to Eddie’s bed. The mattress dips when he sits next to him. He puts a hand on Eddie’s knee, and the touch feels electric. 

“This okay?” he asks softly, and Eddie can only swallow roughly, nodding again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s cool,” Steve says, just as softly, and leans closer. 

They’re almost nose to nose when Eddie manages, “It’s cool.” 

The first kiss is featherlight, just a soft pressure. It’s as if Steve just wants to feel him, first. Like Eddie’s mouth is worth getting familiar with, worth tasting to savour. It’s an intoxicating feeling, even though Eddie’s about to explode from want. 

But– holy shit is Steve a good kisser. He nips at Eddie’s bottom lip, hand sliding into Eddie’s hair to tug gently, tongue teasing the seam of his mouth. He licks into Eddie’s mouth and lets out this breathy moan, nudging Eddie’s legs apart. 

It’s never been like this. Eddie’s never had someone guide him gently into a heat, has always weathered them alone, bracing for their unforgiving, stripping aftermath. Now, it’s like Steve’s here to cushion him. It makes sense now, why people always recommend your spend your heats with a partner. This is more than a balm: this is salvation. 

And Eddie needs to fuck. Needs it like he needs air. Needs to be full, and Steve’s right here, willing to do just that. 

Pulling back abruptly, breaking the kiss with a slick noise, Eddie says, “Hey, just, uh— be warned. I’ve never… Done this before.” 

Steve kisses him again, before pulling away. “Spent a heat with someone?” 

“No. I mean, yeah. But also, just, in general.” He swallows, stomach somehow swooping with nerves despite the fact he’s about to buzz off this plane of existence with arousal. 

Steve’s eyes widen, mouth parting. “Oh. Oh. Shit, I—“ 

“If it’s too weird for—“ 

“No,” Steve interrupts, hand coming up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “No, man. Not at all. I just… Are you sure? You wanna do this, I mean?” 

The unspoken with me? hangs heavy in the air. 

And Eddie could say any number of things here. That he’d always figured his first time would be in a motel or hotel room, with some guy who wanted a quick fuck, and maybe, maybe kissed Eddie before he put his dick in him. 

And, yeah, okay, they’re in a hotel room, but Steve’s not just some guy. Steve is Eddie’s friend. Steve wanted to go on a road trip with Eddie, just the two of them, and Steve’s just offered to help him through a surprise heat. 

So instead, Eddie just says, “I’m sure, Steve.” 

Catching his mouth in another kiss, Steve slips his hand down. Pulls at Eddie’s happy trail a little, earning him a short gasp, before teasing the hem of his boxers. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Eddie’s cunt aches with need. 

“Mmm’okay, you have to fuck me now,” Eddie pleads, tugging at Steve. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve breathes, but instead of stripping out of his clothes, he parts Eddie’s legs and slides down the bed. 

“You– oh.” Eddie holds his breath, eyes wide. No one’s ever sucked him off before, and here Steve is, helping Eddie out of his underwear until he's almost nose-to- ha, well, not nose, but- tip, with Eddie's cock. He stares at it like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. 

“Okay?” Steve asks, tearing his eyes away from Eddie’s flushed cock. 

“Yeah, yep,” Eddie says, strangled. Distantly, he wonders what the point of heats are if he’s not even spared the embarrassment of his own desire. 

“Good.” 

As if sensing Eddie’s mounting impatience, Steve gets right to it. He wraps his hand around Eddie and jerks him off with gentle, but fast strokes. 

“Ooh, okay, okay, shit—” Eddie gasps, throwing his head back. He’s never been touched like this before. Lolling his head back to look at Steve, he runs a hesitant hand through his tousled hair. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathes encouragingly, pupils blown. Eddie wishes he could see if he’s hard yet. 

That familiar almost-enough heat coils in Eddie’s belly, and the longer he stares at Steve’s droopy, dark eyes, the faster his breathing gets. 

Stomach flexing, Eddie tugs at Steve’s hair. “‘M close.” 

Instantly, Steve stops. 

Eddie almost cries out. “No, no, no–” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve soothes, giving him an apologetic stroke that has Eddie keening.

"Gonna fuck me now?" Eddie asks, parting his legs more. Presenting himself.

The breath whooshes out of Steve, and he presses a sloppy kiss to Eddie's inner thigh. Into his skin, he murmurs, “I wanna get my mouth on you, baby. It’ll feel better when I fuck you if you come first. Is that okay?” 

“Uh huh,” Eddie pants, mind foggy. God, he’s so close. He just needs a little more— 

And then Steve’s breath ghosts over his cock, and Eddie forgets how to do anything other than beg. 

“Please,” he breathes. “Please, Steve, please—“ 

Nodding like he’s on a mission, Steve fits his head between Eddie's legs. He exhales once, which makes Eddie full-body shiver, and then Steve licks a path right through the slick up to Eddie’s cock. 

“Jesus fuck–” The words punch out of Eddie like he’s been shot, body folding inwards so as to keep Steve there. 

Steve does it again, nose nudging between Eddie’s folds, eyes fluttering shut. He looks drunk on it. Drunk on Eddie. 

Shifting upwards, he sucks Eddie’s small cock into his mouth in one go, and Eddie’s vision nearly whites out. 

He manages a stuttered gasp. “Shit, ‘m gonna– Steve–” 

And then he’s coming. 

Grinding his hips up into Steve’s mouth, he feels the wave of white hot ecstasy pool in his gut, washing over him. His cock pulses in Steve’s mouth, and Steve chokes, swallowing convulsively around him. Eddie keeps a firm pressure on his head to keep him there, keep him sucking on his cock. Steve does. 

Eddie's voice cracks as he moans at the sight, luxuriating in the comedown before he has to push at Steve’s head, overstimulated. 

“Okay?” Steve rasps. 

Eddie moans around a laugh. “So fuckin’ good. Casanova ain’t got shit on you.” 

Clearly pleased, Steve smiles shyly. Shit, he looks like he’s made for this. Made to exist between Eddie’s legs, lips shiny with spit and cum. 

Despite having just come his brains out, though, Eddie’s arousal doesn’t abate. If anything, it gets worse. 

Staring down at him, Eddie drags a hand through Steve's hair. Steve leans into the touch, kissing his palm when it brushes over his lips. 

Eddie feels debauched. He wants to kiss Steve again. He wants to fuck his face. He wants Steve to shove him into the mattress and hold him down, feed him his cock, wreck him. More than anything, Eddie wants to be good for him. 

“Still want me to fuck you?” Steve pants, face covered in slick. Covered in Eddie. 

Cunt pulsing, he nods, trying for a cocky grin. “Yeah, ‘course. C’mon, fuck the heat outta me.” 

Whipping his shirt off, Steve lets Eddie unbutton his jeans for him, before clambering off the bed to tear them off. It shouldn’t be sexy – seriously, what the fuck, the guy’s hopping around on one leg – but it is. Man, Eddie’s so screwed. 

And then Steve strips out of his underwear. 

Instantly, Eddie’s mouth goes dry. He full-body flushes as a new, overpowering scent washes over him: the musky undertones of Steve’s pre, the sweat he’s worked up, and above all else, his arousal. 

It hits like a gut punch. Makes Eddie’s scrambled brain conjure words up like mount me, take me, own me. 

Steve seems to be thinking at least similar thoughts; his eyes are glazed over, roving over Eddie’s body like he’s something to look at. 

It’s insane. Eddie’s never been more turned on in his life. 

When Steve finally lowers himself on top of Eddie, it knocks the breath right out of him. Like this, Eddie can feel Steve’s cock nestled between his legs, a hot, hard line against the side of his own, much smaller cock. 

“Hey, baby,” Steve murmurs, and God, he’s got to stop with the pet names or else Eddie’s gonna want to keep him forever. 

“Hey,” he echoes breathlessly. He shudders when Steve leans in to catch his mouth in another kiss, this one full of promise and heat. 

It’s intimate, lying here with his legs spread, exchanging spit with Steve. Then again, this is like, sixteen of his teenage fantasies rolled into one, so. It's bound to feel that way no matter what, probably. 

Cockhead nudging Eddie’s entrance, Steve shudders out a breath. 

“Eddie,” he rasps, cock almost catching. It’s addictive, knowing Steve’s as into this as Eddie is. That he’s hard for Eddie. 

“C’mon.” Eddie’s a broken record at this point, hips tilted to let him in as his arousal spikes, but Steve shifts away. 

“Gotta—“ Steve pushes himself up. “Gotta get a condom.” 

“Fuck the condom!” Eddie nearly wails, and Steve’s eyes go wide. He rushes to add, “I’m on– I’m on the pill, it’s fine. I’m clean. Are you clean?” 

Dazed, Steve nods. “Yeah. Yeah I got tested last month.” 

Pawing at Steve frantically, Eddie says, “Okay, cool, cool, cool, please put your dick in me now.” 

Snorting, Steve catches his mouth in another kiss. Between them, Eddie can hear Steve jerking himself off slowly, shifting so his hand brushes against Eddie’s cock on every stroke. 

Between kisses, Steve asks, “You sure?” 

“Do you need my written consent?” Eddie asks, genuinely so turned on he’s close to tears. “Grab a pen– I hereby state the plain and simple truth, which is that I consent to Steve Harrington putting his d–” 

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, laughing breathily. 

Eddie’s about to make another joke but the words die on his tongue. Inhaling sharply, he looks down to see Steve pushing his cock through the slick between Eddie’s legs, just barely brushing his red and puffy cock. The wet sound the drag makes earns Steve another shiver, this time accompanied by a shaky exhale. 

“You’re so wet,” Steve murmurs as his dick catches on Eddie’s entrance, and Eddie cannot, absolutely will not, wait any longer. 

Pushing his hips down, Eddie manages to push Steve all the way inside in one go. It punches a surprised moan out of Steve that he decides immediately he’s committing to memory and jerking off to for the rest of forever. 

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps, chest heaving. He flushes all the way down to his toes, staring up at Steve’s wide, dark eyes. At his soft, pink lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay, big boy. Take me for a spin.” 

Shuddering out a breath, Steve lowers himself so he’s almost chest to chest with Eddie. And then he grinds. Eddie moans, surprised, having been braced for Steve to pound into him, to pull his hair and pin him down. 

But Steve doesn’t do that. Steve starts slow. 

Only when Eddie chokes around a gasp does Steve pull out further, rolling his hips in a way that gets him somehow deeper. Gradually, his pace picks up, rocking Eddie’s body over the duvet, muffling moans into Eddie’s neck like he just can’t believe how good he feels. 

Snaking a hand between their body’s, Eddie jerks off fast. That familiar, overwhelming crest is looming, arousal boiling over. His entire body’s twitchy now, and he's clenching around Steve in a way that has him whimpering into Eddie’s skin. 

“Steve–” he says, hips meeting Steve’s every thrust. The room is filled with the sound of slapping skin now, their body’s sweaty and loud. Everything smells like sex. Like them. “Steve, I’m close.” 

“Yeah?” Steve responds shakily, lifting his head to mouth along Eddie’s jaw. He murmurs, “Y’want my knot? I’m so fucking hard for you, baby.” 

Eddie moans, nodding as he tightens around Steve. 

Burying his face in Eddie's neck, Steve continues to thrust, this time with a little more restraint. “You sure? I can— I can pull out.” 

Eddie shakes his head immediately, clinging to Steve harder. “Knot me. Want you to— please, give it to me—” 

Hips stuttering, Steve groans. “Okay. Okay, ‘m so close, just—“ 

Mouthing at Eddie’s scent glands, lapping at them, he thrusts into him faster. Eddie can feel the beginnings of Steves swollen knot, nudging at his entrance, so close to catching. 

“C’mon,” Eddie begs for nth time, grunting at the next thrust. He feels feral with it, with this insatiable need he’s not sure if the heat or Steve or some combination of them both inspired. “You feel so good, please—“ 

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck–” Steve chants, pressing as close to Eddie as he can, shoving his cock as deep as it’ll go. With one last push, the knot pops past Eddie’s entrance, and Eddie nearly bucks at the overwhelming sensation. 

“Yeah—“ Eddie breathes, snaking a hand down to press his palm to his cock, and— it’s enough. The rolling pleasure hits him like a truck, and he bucks up into it, nearly dislodging Steve. 

He sobs around a moan as his cock spits come between them, sweaty and overwhelmed, clenching around Steve as he comes down. 

Steve’s mouth goes slack around a shaky moan as his cock kicks, still spilling hotly inside of Eddie. Whimpering, he buries his face in Eddie’s neck again and grinds back into him again, panting harshly between sloppily kissing Eddie’s neck. 

It has to hurt, now that his knot has fully formed, but he keeps at it for a good minute. Eddie holds him, sated and comfortable and safe, as he smiles into Steve's hair. 

Finally, Steve resurfaces to breathe. He's smiling all dopily as he takes Eddie’s hand, pressing it to his chest. Eddie can feel Steve’s heartbeat, quick and strong, and he has to close his eyes. 

They lay there catching their breaths for a long time before Steve’s knot goes down enough to pull out. And even then, they stay cuddled up, limbs loosely intertwined, hands in each other’s hair, exchanging soft kisses with one another. 

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers. 

“For what?” 

“Helping. With the heat.” 

“Oh. Yeah. No problem.” 

Eddie closes his eyes, content to sleep until another wave of arousal wakes him later. 

But Steve clears his throat. “Listen," he says softly. "This is probably the dumbest time to say this, but– I have like, a thing for you.” 

Eddie opens his eyes slowly.

He must've misheard him. Or fainted. Or died. No way in hell-

“What?” 

Steve draws a little pattern into Eddie's shoulder, eyes so earnest it hurts. “I just thought you should know," he says, "That I’m not just some random weirdo Alpha fucking you ‘cause it’s convenient, or whatever you said.” 

Brain skittering, Eddie blinks at him. "Oh. So- when you said you wanted to help me-" 

"I meant it. I-" Steve hesitates, loosing a breath. "I've got, like, the biggest crush on you. If you didn't notice." 

Eddie feels his eyes bug out. "Huh?" 

Steve seems caught between wanting to laugh and comfort Eddie. "Is that okay?" 

Making a weird noise, Eddie buries his face in the pillow. Then, he pops right back up. “You just- are you for real? It’s– I just– when? How? So many questions, so little time.” He pauses, heart racing. “Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m half in love with you already, so, uh, ha! Don’t worry–” 

“What?” 

“I’m in heat, don’t listen to me,” Eddie says, pressing an inviting kiss to the side of Steve’s mouth. 

Steve laughs against him, capturing Eddie’s mouth just in time to grin back, and Eddie thinks, yeah. They’ll be alright.