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“Ya know, I think Claudia would be okay with me just staying over,” Eddie whispers.
Steve snorts softly. “But this is way more fun.”
He’s got Eddie there.
Eddie’s parents are never home, so he’s got a big empty house they can use whenever. And Steve lives with the Hendersons. His adopted mother Claudia is chill and understanding. After she gave the shovel talk to Eddie, he was basically given permission to come over whenever he wanted.
But yeah… sneaking around is fun.
Eddie never needed to sneak around, but Steve’s done it so much he’s mastered the art of it.
Steve grins, sliding his hand into Eddie’s. They’re standing in Steve’s backyard, the sliding glass door just barely cracked open. They’re sharing a joint before they go inside and down to the basement where Steve’s room is.
“I always feel like I’m corrupting you,” Steve comments with a purposeful wink.
Eddie rolls his eyes, blowing out smoke.
Before meeting Steve, he didn’t really get up to much. Felt like he was just going through the motions. He ran track, went to class, and did his best to get good grades. No straight A’s or anything, but a solid B student. In between, he read, a lot. Fantasy, horror, mystery, sci-fi, but never really touched romance. He wore non-descript jeans and shirts, never really standing out from the crowd of Hawkins High.
Steve Harrington, on the other hand, made it his mission. He wore heavy boots and chunky rings. Dark clothing, worn flannels, and ripped jeans. Sometimes fishnets would poke out in the holes in his pants. There were tattoos scattered about, along with moles, hidden under his clothing. His beautiful hair cut close on the sides and long on top, soft waves that Eddie loved to run his fingers through.
Steve was loud, snarky, and kind of a bitch. But he was kind underneath it. Eddie was reserved too, putting on a mask of indifference compared to Steve’s overtly loud one. They were similar in that way– never showing their true colors to the world, only to a trusted few.
In every other manner, they were polar opposites, and god, was that thrilling.
“That one of your fantasies?” Eddie teases, offering up the last of the joint to Steve.
Steve takes it, drawing in one last drag, before smudging it out in the ashtray on the patio table.
“Maybe.” Steve smirks. He squeezes Eddie’s hand, then turns towards the backdoor. He lifts one finger to his lips, eyes bright at the joke. Eddie rolls his eyes again, but his smile undermines it.
Steve quietly opens the sliding door just wide enough for them to slip through. Both step immediately to the right, avoiding the creaky floorboard directly in front of the door. It’s an elaborate dance from there, Steve weaving through the living room and over to the basement door. They avoid the noisiest floorboards, quietly open the door, and head downstairs. The second to last step is the loudest, and both skip over that one.
The basement floor is concrete, so they can walk normally across the room to another door. Steve’s bedroom is tucked off to the side, two walls concrete and the other two drywall. The door is one of those sliding pocket ones, still open from when Steve left twenty minutes ago. A soft glow comes from the other side where Steve left on his bedside lamp.
The two step through, and Steve shuts the door behind them.
Inside, Steve’s room is organized chaos. Clothes are scattered across the floor. Books and notepads cover the cramped desk. An acoustic guitar sits tucked in the corner. Posters for bands like The Clash, Misfits, and Ramones cover the walls, along with random signs Steve’s stolen over the years. The best steal was a Reagan sign Steve stole out of someone’s yard and spray painted Fucking Pig on it. That’s Eddie’s favorite.
The high is settling in nicely now. Eddie smiles lazily as he toes off his shoes.
“mmmm put something on,” Eddie says as he all but falls onto Steve’s bed.
“Combat Rock?” Steve asks, moving over to his record player, which sits precariously on some milk crates that have been turned onto their sides to store records.
“Yeah.”
A minute later, this is a public service announcement, with guitar! fills the room, followed by the opening guitar riff from The Clash.
Eddie hums softly, rolling onto his back. Steve turns the dial down, the music just loud enough to cover their voices. Then he comes over and plops down next to Eddie. Eddie immediately takes Steve’s hand and laces their fingers together.
“Missed you,” Eddie murmurs. “Missed your bed.”
“You were here two nights ago,” Steve laughs softly.
Eddie tilts his head, meeting Steve’s eyes.
“Well, yeah, but still. Missed you.”
Steve’s smile feels like it brightens the whole damn room. As tacky as that is.
“Missed you too,” he replies.
They share a smile and a warm look for a long moment. Then, Eddie tugs on Steve’s hand.
“Come on, you said you feel like you’re corrupting me. So corrupt me, handsome.” Eddie’s grin is cocky.
Steve raises an eyebrow and chooses to not respond.
“Ya know, those bad boys sneaking into a girl’s room… making out and maybe some heavy petting…” Eddie continues. If he were less high, he’d know that Steve’s silence was a bait for him to keep talking. High Eddie doesn’t catch it, and keeps rambling.
Steve snorts. He pushes upright, then shuffles back to the headboard.
“Well come here then,” he says, leaning against the pillows.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on top? The bad boy pressing their innocent lover into the bed…” Eddie asks as he rolls over.
“Mmm… we’ll get there…”
Eddie laughs, bordering on a giggle. He doesn’t giggle, but the weed he smokes with Steve makes him feel all floaty and at peace. Worlds better than the dirt weed that gets passed around at high school parties.
He crawls forward, slowly moving over Steve’s legs, up his torso, until his palms rest on either side of Steve’s shoulders, and their faces are barely inches apart. Steve smiles lazily, eyes lidded from an intoxicating combination of lust and weed.
“No rush, Eds,” Steve says softly. He slides his hands up Eddie’s arms, over his shoulders, until one is curled around the back of Eddie’s neck, and the other tangled in Eddie’s hair.
Steve loves Eddie’s hair. It’s long and wavy and thick. He lets Steve run his fingers through it, style it, pull it. Like this, it falls in a curtain around them, cutting off their vision so it’s just them alone in the world. Everything beyond the bed they lay on and the music in the room falls away.
Eddie shifts, lifting his leg so one of Steve’s thighs can slip between his own.
“Maybe I’m impatient,” he says.
Steve laughs, but the noise gets muffled as Eddie connects their lips. Steve clutches Eddie, pulling him close. The kiss does not start chaste, then evolve. It starts filthy, lips parting immediately.
Guitar notes and sung words mask the wet sounds of their lips meeting. Steve exhales a noise, gripping Eddie’s hair roughly. He bends his knee, ever so slightly, to press his thigh against Eddie’s bulge.
“Fuck, baby,” Eddie mumbles.
“mhm?” Steve hums, repeating the motion.
Eddie draws back. He moves one hand down to tug at the hem of Steve’s shirt.
“Get this off.”
“Only if you do too.”
Eddie nods and sits up. He pulls his shirt up and off, then drops it onto the floor. Doesn’t matter where it lands because honestly, it was a shirt he stole from Steve anyway. It’s a dark navy souvenir shirt from some museum in Indy that he got last time he went up with Claudia and Dustin. Eddie stole it weeks ago to use as a sleep shirt.
By the time his is off, Steve’s is too.
Steve lays back in the golden glow of the lamp. The sheets are a mess around him, so comfortable and familiar. The room smells like his cologne and weed. Smells like home. Eddie’s house, not home, feels sterile, like a catalog that you only ever look at because people don’t live like that.
But everything about Steve feels like home. The feeling of Eddie’s hands running over the planes of Steve’s stomach. The warmth of his gaze. The sound of his laugh. The color of his skin, contrasted by the black ink of tattoos. Except for one– a beautiful purple wolfsbane, just above his heart.
Caution, this flower is poison. Be warned.
Steve is anything but poison.
Eddie must be staring, because Steve’s lips slowly grow into a smile.
“See something you like?" He asks. It's a tacky line, but always makes Eddie laugh.
"Always, handsome."
Steve's cheeks are flushed, and they darken a bit at the praise. He reaches up, cupping Eddie's cheeks. Eddie allows himself to be pulled back down into a kiss.
One song flows into the next.
They hold each other close, bare chests pressed together, sharing the same air. Steve grinds a thigh up. Eddie rocks his hips down.
The music has faded into the background. Their lips and heavy breaths are louder than anything else.
Steve takes Eddie’s hand and slips it past the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Want me to touch you, baby?” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s lips.
“mhm,” Steve hums. He changes his grip, now loose around Eddie’s wrist.
Eddie keeps moving down without guidance. His fingers stop when he feels the well trimmed hair down there. Steve’s got nothing on underneath.
“Wow, really presumptuous, huh babe?” Eddie teases. He absently strokes the hair, skirting around the base of Steve’s cock.
“That’s a real big word for you,” Steve fires back.
Eddie laughs, a little louder than he should. “Asshole.”
Steve grins up at his boyfriend. He lifts his hips to shimmy down his sweats.
“You love it.”
“Yeah…” Eddie sighs, overdramatic. “Guess I do.”
Steve laughs. Eddie helps him get his sweats off, then drops them over the side of the bed.
“Now come on, off with those too,” Steve says, waving a hand towards Eddie’s legs.
Eddie has to move off of Steve to do so. He rolls to the side, awkwardly wiggling to get his own pair of sweats off. Steve snorts, then turns to reach over to his nightstand drawer. They come back together after a moment. Steve drops a tube of lube on the bed next to them, and spreads his legs in order for Eddie to slot between them.
Eddie leans down, pressing their fronts together. Steve exhales a moan at the feeling of Eddie’s cock grinding up against his own.
“I want you to fuck me,” Steve says against Eddie’s lips.
Eddie makes an appreciative noise in response. He keeps himself up on one hand and snakes the other between them. He curls a loose fist around both of them. They exhale sighs into each other’s mouth. Eddie strokes them slowly for a minute, maybe longer, before Steve squirms.
“Impatient?” Eddie asks, pulling back.
“Yeah, a little.” At least Steve’s honest. It makes Eddie laugh.
Eddie pushes back up, leaning back to kneel between his boyfriend’s spread thighs. And god, are they glorious thighs. Eddie always thought he was an ass-man until he saw Steve Harrington’s thighs. Okay, he still is an ass-man, because god damn Steve is just hot everywhere . But those thighs had him changing his tune the first time he blew Steve and had them wrapped right around his head.
Steve watches him reach for the lube with half-lidded eyes. The weed makes him feel foggy, but in a good way. Like his head is all full of cotton, no overthinking or negative thoughts in his mind. Just Eddie.
Eddie pops open the cap, and pours some onto his fingers. He sets the bottle down while spreading the lube around with his thumb. Steve lets his legs fall open further, the sides of his knees now touching the bed.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie says. A combination of adoration and lust covers his face.
Steve grins. He stretches his arms overhead, loosely grabbing at the pillows he lays against. It serves to open himself up more, giving Eddie a perfect view. Eddie rolls his eyes with a whispered curse. Steve knows he looks good, and Eddie knows that he knows.
Eddie sets one hand on Steve’s thigh and the other dips between them. A shiver runs up Steve’s spine as slick fingers brush against his hole. He curls his fingers ever so slightly tighter around the pillows. Eddie repeats the motion, one, two, three, four times. In slow circles, fingertips light against sensitive skin. Teasing Steve and driving him up a wall.
“Eds–” Steve hisses. He’s too keyed up to be dealing with his boyfriend’s teasing.
“Sorry, just you look so pretty squirming.” Eddie’s grin is full of teeth, cocky and knowing exactly what he’s doing. Steve both hates and loves it.
This time, one finger begins to press in. Steve hums, head tilting back.
No matter how many times they do this, it’s always an adjustment to that first press in. An adjustment Steve is addicted to. The first opening up. A prologue to pleasure. Bordering on uncomfortable. Maybe a slight pain which sometimes he admits asking for.
Eddie is slow. Up to the first joint, then back out again. Each press in, he goes a little bit further. His eyes flick between Steve’s thighs and his face, eyes watching diligently for even an inkling of discomfort.
“mmmm… shit…” Steve murmurs when Eddie presses his finger fully in.
“Good?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah. Can go a little harder.”
Eddie gives him another cursory look, then obliges. He draws his finger out just as slow as before. The thrust back in is one sharp motion. Steve’s voice cracks out a whimper. Eddie keeps going. He knows how Steve likes it. When he asks for it harder this early, Steve’s in a feisty mood. They’ll be sharp, hard, maybe a bit mean.
One finger becomes two. They curl on the pull back, looking for something specific.
“oh, right there,” Steve exhales shakily.
Eddie curls his fingers, dragging against Steve’s prostate. Steve nods weakly. His fingers clench and release in a rhythm he doesn’t realize is matching the music from the record.
Eddie watches it all from above. How Steve’s face pinches in pleasure and his legs squirm. The stuttering of his breath as Eddie presses in a third finger.
“Feel good?” Eddie asks despite already knowing the answer. He just likes hearing how Steve’s voice shakes.
“So good.” Steve nods a few times. His hips rock in time with Eddie’s fingers. “P-Please–”
“Yeah?” Eddie’s just out of breath, despite remaining untouched. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, dripping just barely onto the sheets below.
“More, please.” Steve cracks his eyes open. When did they shut…? Either way, he meets Eddie’s gaze. Those dark eyes a bit glassy already.
“Condom?” Eddie asks. In a nasty move, he curls his fingers against Steve’s prostate and grinds when he asks the question.
Steve bites down on his bottom lip to muffle a moan. His eyes roll back for a moment. “Fuck–”
Being with Steve is a learning experience, every single day. Eddie always thought sex was overrated and he wasn’t good at it. Turns out he just really didn’t like girls. And he really likes Steve. The first time he got Steve off with just fingers against his prostate, Eddie had to lay down on the floor to reorient himself with reality. Steve still makes fun of him for it.
“No, ah– I want to feel you,” Steve continues, voice caught on a moan halfway through.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie curses under his breath. “How did I get so fuckin’ lucky…”
Steve grins and laughs, mildly dazed. Eddie grins right back.
He draws his fingers out. He can’t help but look at Steve’s hole, twitching around the emptiness. Steve huffs out a breath, then suddenly Eddie’s getting pushed over.
Steve plants a hand on Eddie’s chest, bodily pushing him to the side.
“Hey–” Eddie starts, before the air leaves his lungs as his back hits the bed. His elbow knocks into the wall on accident, and thank god it’s one of the drywall ones.
In one smooth motion, Steve is straddling Eddie’s thighs.
“My turn to be on top,” Steve laughs, eyes twinkling.
“Oh?” Eddie adjusts quickly, his shock fading in seconds. A lazy smirk replaces it, hands coming up to curl around Steve’s hips.
“mmhm,” Steve nods. His palm is still on Eddie’s chest. A warm oval of pressure. “Climbing on top of you… corrupting your mind with such impure thoughts…”
“What are’ya, the devil?” Eddie jokes without really thinking. What little filter he has is shot to hell when he’s high.
Steve laughs softly. “Maybe. A little demon who comes in the night.”
“An incubus, babe.” Eddie informs.
Steve snorts. He leans down to quickly kiss Eddie.
“You nerd,” he says against Eddie’s lips.
“Just an innocent nerd, yeah?” Eddie replies.
“mmmm, yeah.” Steve’s already kind of lost the plot of their teasing. It doesn’t really matter.
He presses back in for a kiss. Eddie’s lips part so their tongues can press together. While Eddie’s thoroughly distracted, he reaches for the discard lube. He squirts some into his palm, then reaches below.
Eddie hisses suddenly, head rocking back. “Fuck, babe, at least warm it up!”
Steve laughs into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He curls his fingers around Eddie’s cock, slowly stroking from root to tip.
“You’re mean,” Eddie says, bordering on a whine. His toes curl up as the lube starts to warm thanks to Steve’s slick palm. Steve laughs again. He strokes three more times, then stops his hand at the base of Eddie’s cock. He sits back up. His other hand shifts to rest right above Eddie’s heart. Right where Steve’s own floral tattoo is.
Steve lines Eddie up with his hole, then slowly presses his hips down.
Two twin moans float through the room as the head gets past Steve’s rim.
“Fuuuck, you’re so warm,” Eddie whispers, reverential. He squeezes Steve’s waist.
“mmmm you feel so good.” Steve lowers his hips until they meet Eddie’s.
His head rolls back, eyes falling shut as he adjusts to the full feeling. The weight. The waning discomfort. He moves his hand, coming to rest on the other side of Eddie’s chest. Not pressing hard; just enough for Eddie to never ignore it.
And Eddie, who looks up at his boyfriend like Steve hung the stars in the sky and set the moon in motion.
The lines of his body get fuzzy and golden in the lamplight. The harsh mask he wears slips away entirely, face contorted in pleasure. Cheeks flushed red and one drop of sweat rolling down the valley of his chest.
Eddie sometimes wishes he could take up painting in order to recreate Steve in oil paints, just like the masters of the Renaissance.
“Oh honey, you should see what you look like,” Eddie whispers. “So beautiful.”
Steve’s head rolls to the side, one ear nearly touching his shoulder. He smiles around the bottom lip he’s caught in his teeth. Eddie runs his hands from Steve’s hips, across his thighs, down to his knees, then back up again.
Steve preens under the compliments, and once Eddie’s hands are back on his hips, he begins to rock them. A slow pace, barely rising up. Eddie moans anyway, a whisper of a thing.
He builds the pace. A slow growing movement, his hips rising further with each rock. Eventually, he’s moving fully, up and down Eddie’s cock. It feels so fucking good. Eddie’s long . Every part of him is long, from his fingers to his legs to his hair to his dick. He fills Steve up when Eddie grinds his hips upwards to meet his boyfriend’s.
“Shit–” Steve curses, eyes clenched shut. “God–”
“Baby, you feel so good,” Eddie moans.
It echoes back to them, and then they realize that the record’s finished. The Clash is no longer their backing track. The player in the corner is crackling as the needle circles the center of the vinyl.
Steve stops bouncing. The two make eye contact.
“Want me to change it?” Steve whispers.
Eddie shakes his head sharply. “No, baby, don’t stop.”
“You gotta be quiet.” Steve replies.
“Promise.” Eddie nods. “Just– please, Steve–”
Steve nods too. His hands slide up, curling around Eddie’s shoulders. It allows him to lean in close, their lips brushing together. Eddie connects them as Steve resumes the rhythm of his hips.
Eddie moans into Steve’s mouth. Steve returns it.
The new angle has Eddie getting impossibly deeper. The head of his cock brushes against Steve’s prostate every few thrusts.
“Steve, shit, baby,” Eddie exhales roughly. Steve’s tight around him. A warm, wet heat that feels like heaven on earth.
Steve moans weakly. “Eds… it feels so good…”
“Uh huh?”
“mhm, your cock is so good…”
“Yeah, you ride like that’s all you're meant to do…” Eddie whispers.
Steve moans again, breaking away to rest his forehead against Eddie’s cheek. Eddie can have a real filthy mouth if he wants to. He knows just what to say to get Steve to come undone.
“mmmm, so tight around my cock…”
Steve has to bite his bottom lip to keep a noise in.
The wet sound of their hips moving together fills the room. Their chests heave against each other, struggling to catch their breaths.
Eddie is too high to remember to be quiet. A groan falls from his lips when Steve squeezes tight around him for a moment.
“Eddie,” Steve scolds.
“S-Sorry honey,” Eddie replies. “Can’t help myself… you just… fuck…”
Steve sits back up. Eddie looks up at him with watery eyes and flushed cheeks. His bangs stick to his sweat slick forehead. Steve stills his hips for a moment. He sits fully on Eddie’s lap, squeezing tight before relaxing.
He watches Eddie’s expression shift. His face twist up and bottom lip get bit down on. He tries his best to be quiet.
Steve does it again. Purposefully.
Eddie’s back arches, fingers tightening around Steve’s hips.
Steve grinds down.
Eddie breaks. A choked noise falls from his lips.
Steve reacts by lifting a hand and hovering it above Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie’s eyes slowly open, first meeting Steve’s palm, then his eyes. Steve watches, unmoving.
A long moment, then Eddie nods minutely.
“Good… this’ll help you stay quiet babe…” Steve whispers as he places his palm over Eddie’s lips. His fingers cup Eddie’s pink cheek.
“mhm,” the noise is muffled, but Eddie kisses Steve’s palm in permission.
Again, the shit Steve has taught him, particularly in the bedroom, blows Eddie’s mind. He always thought of bland missionary sex. When he did it, it felt more like a chore to get the girl off. But even then, she wasn’t always satisfied. But Steve? He’s thrown the whole concept into a new light.
The palm against his mouth, blocking the sound and making it a little harder to breathe makes his cock twitch. Steve can feel it. He smirks.
“Dustin’s room is right above mine… Don’t want to traumatize the poor kid, now do we?” Steve whispers.
Eddie’s eyes roll back without his permission as he nods furiously.
“Good.” Steve’s smirk is like a shark. He smells blood in the water.
The first few rolls of his hips are mild. He lifts a few inches before falling. It feels good, and Eddie lets it known by running his hands over every inch of Steve he can reach.
“Yeah, just like that, Eds…” Steve says.
Eddie is lulled into a false sense of security by Steve’s rhythm.
Then, without a single warning, he changes it.
Steve rises up almost entirely. Just the head of Eddie’s cock stays inside. He hovers for a few long seconds. Just long enough that Eddie’s scared Steve’s going to pull off entirely.
Then, Steve slams down. Takes all of Eddie in one smooth motion.
“Oh fuck–!” Eddie curses against Steve’s palm. He can’t help it, holy shit.
Steve is far more reserved in his reaction. He bites his bottom lip, body shuddering. He exhales in one harsh go.
Then he draws his hips back up, and Eddie’s back arches.
Steve is a passionate guy. And he’s a bit of a bitch. The two come together in a way that sends sparks crackling through Eddie’s body. The pace he sets is brutal. Slow and deep, wanting to take every last bit of Eddie that he can. Eddie rocks his hips upwards in time.
“fuck…” Steve whispers, his head dropping forward. He’s going to feel this in the morning. He might be feeling it for the rest of the week.
Eddie’s cock brushes against his prostate with each thrust. It feels so god damn good, each thrust rocking through him like the distant rumble of thunder rolling across the land.
He feels heat building in the depths of his stomach. Judging by Eddie’s muffled moans and twitching legs, he’s close too.
“You close baby?” Steve whispers.
Eddie’s eyes crack open, silently pleading. He nods, over and over and over again.
“Me too, you feel so good…” Steve gasps.
Eddie wraps a hand tight around Steve’s cock. Steve barely manages to muffle his whimper. The muscles in his stomach start to tighten. Eddie strokes him with the same passion and strength as Steve’s hips.
It doesn’t take long.
Eddie knows exactly how to twist his wrist and how to swipe his thumb over the glans.
Steve’s rhythm falters as his end crashes into him with the force of a tsunami.
Eddie gets to watch the love of his life come undone on top of him.
Steve shakes, shoulders twitching violently. He falls completely on top of Eddie’s cock, finishing across Eddie’s knuckles and stomach. His hole tightens around Eddie, who only needs to thrust up a handful of times before he reaches his own end. He cums deep inside his boyfriend, who is still so impossibly tight and warm around him.
Steve’s hand slides away from Eddie’s mouth and he nearly collapses forward. Eddie oofs as he gets a sudden chest-ful of Steve.
“Shit.” Eddie mutters.
Steve giggles weakly, struggling to catch his breath.
“You gotta do that again. The thing with your hand.” Even when trying to breathe, Eddie doesn’t know when to shut his damn mouth. Steve snorts, lazily curling his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.
Silence falls.
The sound of their slowly leveling breathing and the crackling from the record player are the only sounds. Then, distantly, the AC rattles to life.
“Please don’t kick me out.” Eddie whispers out of the blue.
“huh?” Steve lifts his head, eyebrows furrowed.
“You snuck me in. Doesn’t it go that then I’ll have to sneak out?” Eddie elaborates.
Steve nods then, understanding. He shifts, Eddie slipping out of him with a soft, kind of gross noise.
“I’ll just deal with the consequences in the morning…” Steve mutters. He scoots over to the side, so now he’s only half on-top of Eddie instead of fully. They are still mostly pressed together, kind of sticking together thanks to their drying sweat.
“I told you, Claudia doesn’t care if I stay over.”
Steve makes a half-hearted grumbled noise, paired with a weak hand wave. He usually gets pretty tired after sex. Being pretty high is taking what little energy is left.
Eddie laughs softly, ducking down to kiss Steve’s forehead. Then, he stretches an arm out to grab the box of tissues kept on the nightstand. He pulls a few out, and starts to clean them up. His jizz and lube covered hand goes first, then he swipes up their stomachs. One tissue takes care of the mess between Steve’s thighs.
It’s a half-assed job, but they’re too tired. Plus, if they shower now, they’ll definitely wake someone up. They’ll just shower in the morning.
Steve watches sleepily, eyes barely open.
“Love you,” he whispers as Eddie drops the crumpled up tissues onto their pile of clothing. Both of which will be taken care of in the morning.
“Love you too Stevie.”
Steve tilts his head up in a silent signal. Who is Eddie to deny? He leans in and kisses his boyfriend sweetly. It lasts for a few seconds, then Steve pulls away to lay his head on Eddie’s chest. Right over Eddie’s heart. Eddie smiles a little, and reaches around to grab the bedsheets and pull it over them.
They drift off to the steady beat of each other’s hearts and the soft crackle of the vinyl.