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Eddie’s been allergic to strawberries his entire life.
The story goes that when he was eleven months old his parents tried to give him a strawberry with his lunch, and his face had started to swell like a balloon. According to Wayne, that was the first and last time Eddie had ever tried a strawberry.
And, honestly, as far as allergies go, it’s not so bad. He can still have other berries, and he doesn’t really have to worry about running into rogue strawberries in his day-to-day life.
Still, by the time he turns twenty, he’s grown a little curious.
His secret comes out at Steve’s house one night.
Steve, Robin, and Eddie are spread out on Steve’s bed. Eddie is at the foot, stretched out and staring at the ceiling. Robin sits cross-legged against the headboard, Steve lounging to her right. His legs are spread out so far that they lay across Eddie’s thighs. Eddie has a casual hand wrapped around one of Steve’s ankles, and he absent-mindedly rubs his thumb against the skin there.
Through the haze of weed and beer, Steve and Robin have somehow gotten onto the subject of their previous job at Scoops Ahoy. Eddie tries to keep his comments to a minimum. Mostly because his memories of Scoops Ahoy seem wildly different than Steve and Robin’s.
It’s just, how is he supposed to remember anything other than Steve in his silly little sailor outfit? Yeah, sure, Harrington had looked a bit like the begrudging steward of a Disney cruise, but it was hard for Eddie to judge when the shorts showed off so much thigh.
Not that he’d admit it. For all his non-conformist tendencies, there’s one Hawkins High tradition he couldn’t resist in the end. He knows that it’s pathetic. Another Hawkins alpha in love with the school’s prized omega.
In his defense, he almost made it through. Sure, he’d always thought Steve was hot, but his affections started and ended there. Until his third senior year, when he followed Steve as he swam into hell, just in time to see the omega bite the head off a bat with his bare teeth.
What was he supposed to do, not fall in love on the spot?
And now, against all odds, he and Steve Harrington are friends. Not just casual acquaintances, but honest-to-god, attached at the hip friends. He’s with Steve these days more often than he isn’t.
So, for the sake of that friendship, he really tries to avoid thinking about Steve in that uniform.
(And, okay, yes. He’s let his thoughts stray to the image of Steve in his shorts a few too many times while jerking off. But outside the privacy of his own bedroom, the topic is strictly off limits.)
Maybe that’s why he’s not listening fully to Steve and Robin’s argument. At one point they seemed to make a detour from Scoops to Russian torture basements, but somehow they’ve circled back around to debating the best Scoops flavor.
“You know I’m right, just admit it,” Robin smirks, and Steve rolls his eyes.
“I’m not going to admit shit, Buckley. Pistachio is literally the worst flavor we had,” Steve huffs. “Seventeen flavors and you chose pistachio? What are you, some kind of pervert?”
Eddie isn’t embarrassed about the way that makes his heart flutter. He loves it when Steve gets bitchy.
“Pervert?!” Robin scoffs indignantly. “You’re the one trying to say mint chocolate chip was the best. That shit tastes like toothpaste.”
The bickering continues, and it’s like they forget that Eddie’s even there. He takes another hit of his joint, just happy to witness the madness.
“Eddie, back me up here. Pistachio is better than mint chocolate chip, right?” Robin asks, and Steve turns in surprise, like he just remembered that Eddie is there.
Eddie isn’t a fan of either flavor, honestly. He has a thing about green ice cream.
“I don’t do green ice cream,” he shares. Both Robin and Steve look surprised at that, but neither argue.
Honestly, if he had to choose, he’d probably choose mint chocolate chip. Mostly because there’s mint chocolate chip ice cream that isn’t green. And, yeah, it doesn’t hurt that it’s Steve’s choice. But Scoops had green mint chocolate chip ice cream, so it’s all irrelevant.
“What was your favorite flavor, Eddie?” Steve asks, head cocked.
“Probably strawberry,” Robin giggles, and Steve immediately pushes her off the bed. The omega’s face turns a bright red, and Robin cackles from where she landed on the floor.
“And you call me a pervert!” Steve screeches, voice two octaves higher than it had been just moments before. Robin’s only response is to laugh even harder. Eddie has no idea what’s going on.
“I’m actually allergic to strawberries,” Eddie reveals. Robin’s giggles immediately stop, and Eddie can feel her eyes from the floor behind him.
“Since when?” Steve asks. He sounds oddly distraught, especially because Eddie has it on good authority that strawberry isn’t even his favorite ice cream flavor.
“Since I was born, I guess,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s really not a big deal.”
Robin crawls back on the bed, sitting on her feet as she leans forward like some sort of jungle predator. Eddie’s seen this look before, usually when she’s teasing Steve.
“So you’re saying,” she smiles, sounding disproportionately elated, “that you’ve never had a strawberry?”
“I mean, I’ve had one,” Eddie corrects. “But I was a baby and they had to take me to the hospital for it.”
Robin claps her hands together, poorly hiding a gleeful little giggle. Steve has gone silent.
“So you don’t even know what strawberries taste like,” Robin whispers. Eddie is a bit baffled by her line of questioning, but he’s high enough to go along with it. He shakes his head lazily.
“Have you ever wondered? What they taste like?” Robin asks, and Steve lightly smacks her as if she’s just asked him something absolutely scandalous. Eddie rubs at Steve’s ankle again, hoping to soothe some of the omega’s sudden discomfort.
“I mean, sure. But never enough to go into anaphylactic shock,” Eddie chuckles.
He empties the rest of his beer before patting Steve’s ankles. Steve immediately gets the message, lifting his legs so that Eddie can slide off the bed. Eddie’s only a little obsessed with the way they silently speak.
“I’m gonna go get another beer, either of you two weirdos want something?”
Robin asks for a Diet Coke, and Steve requests a glass of water. Steve still looks a little off. Eddie replays the conversation in his head as he makes his way down to the first floor. He’s not sure what exactly made Steve’s mood change so suddenly.
When he climbs back up the stairs with their drinks, Eddie can hear hushed voices from Steve’s room. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t help but hear the tail end of their conversation.
“—not how it works, Steve. You are not a strawberry,” Robin is whispering, and Eddie is even more confused than before.
“I know, but what if—”
“No what ifs, Steve. People aren’t strawberries.” Robin says it like she’s revealing some major truth and not confirming perhaps the world’s most obvious fact.
Eddie pushes through the half-closed door. Robin and Steve jump, both looking up at him as if he were some sort of unexpected intruder. Steve’s eyes are wide, but he at least looks less sad than before.
Robin jumps up and grabs the can of Diet Coke from Eddie, turning to face them both from the doorway.
“You know, I just remembered that I have to be somewhere,” she smiles, before adding on, “somewhere a walkable distance away! So don’t worry about giving me a ride.”
Steve shoots Robin a look, and there seems to be an entire silent conversation exchanged in their expressions. Eddie suddenly feels sort of silly for getting all warm and fuzzy about silently communicating a single desire to Steve, when Steve and Robin can give each other full on silent monologues. Whatever they’re arguing about, it looks like Robin won, because she smiles smugly and turns out of the room.
As she pads down the stairs, Eddie hears her laughing to herself. He can’t be sure, but he thinks he hears her mumble under breath.
“He’s never tasted strawberries.”
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
Once Robin leaves, Eddie crosses the room to hand Steve his glass of water. Steve downs it in one long chug, water spilling down his chin as he drinks like a man dying of thirst. Eddie can’t stand it any longer.
“Okaaaay, care to explain what’s going on?”
Steve puts the glass on the nightstand next to him, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He’s blushing again, but he seems much less demure about it now.
“You’ve never tasted strawberries,” Steve reiterates, like that explains everything. It explains nothing.
“We’ve established that, yes,” Eddie agrees, confused. He feels like he must’ve fallen into some sort of alternate dimension where worth is determined by one’s ability to taste strawberries, and he’s not measuring up.
“And you want to know what strawberries taste like?”
“I mean, I’m not, like, dying to know. No pun intended. But sure.”
Steve nods, a small smile fighting its way onto his face. Eddie wants to scoop this man up and hide him somewhere soft and safe, where he’ll never have a reason for that smile to disappear. It’s a common alpha instinct for sure, albeit one typically reserved for mates.
“Steve, what is going on?” Eddie pleads.
“I’vebeentoldmyslicktasteslikestrawberries,” Steve mutters, the words so quick that they melt into each other. Eddie can’t make out much more than “slick” and “strawberries,” but that alone has blood flooding to his groin.
“Come again?”
“I said,” Steve grits out, the ghost of a smile still tugging at his lips, “that I’ve been told my slick tastes like strawberries.”
Eddie’s brain turns to goo. Steve Harrington is telling him what his slick tastes like. This is better than all of Eddie’s late night fantasies combined. Now that Steve’s mentioned it, Eddie can smell a light fruity scent in the air. Which means–fuck.
All Eddie is able to say in response is a squeaky, “Oh?” It’s pretty much the opposite of how an alpha is supposed to sound in the bedroom, and he can’t find it in him to care. Once again, Steve Harrington is telling him what his slick tastes like. He’s pretty sure he’s got all other alphas beat, handily.
Steve stands from the bed, suddenly completely unselfconscious as he pulls his gym shorts and boxers down in one smooth motion.
Eddie lets out a punched out groan. Steve’s dick is beautiful, on the larger side for an omega and perfectly pink. His pubes are trimmed short, just long enough to hide his cunt. Eddie thinks he might pass out from how quickly his blood rushes south.
“So how about it, Eds? Wanna find out if you like strawberries?” Steve coos, climbing languidly back onto the bed. He spreads his legs, putting himself on full display for Eddie. And screw passing out, Eddie thinks he may legitimately die.
He imagines his headstone. Here lies Eddie Munson. Strawberries did kill him, in the end. Just not the way you think.
But of all times, now is when his self-preservation kicks in. Fighting extradimensional demon bats? No, not at all. The omega of his dreams offering to let Eddie taste him? Of fucking course.
Steve must sense his hesitation, because his confidence immediately wavers. He closes his legs. Eddie wants to throttle himself.
“Stevie, I truly cannot put into words how much I would like to taste you,” Eddie assures him. “But I think casual sex with you would break me. And not in a good way.”
Steve seems to mull over his words, brows furrowed like he’s figuring out a puzzle.
“What if it’s not casual?” Steve asks, as if it’s the simple solution. Eddie’s entire world freezes. Steve can’t possibly be implying what Eddie thinks he’s implying, right? There’s no way.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve spent the last six months hoping you’d finally get a hint and court me,” Steve laughs softly, no unkindness in his tone. “So how about you taste me, and there’s nothing casual about it?”
Eddie’s heart stops. Not literally, but it feels like it. (Not to mention that, based on his limited knowledge of the cardiovascular system, his blood is being used elsewhere.)
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓
It turns out that Eddie loves the taste of strawberries.
He loves it so much, in fact, that Steve has to physically push Eddie’s face away after his third consecutive orgasm. Eddie knows that the omega is probably overstimulated as hell, but his brain is currently incapable of responding to that issue.
Steve ends the night at six orgasms, the last two being completely dry due to his body’s inability to build up any significant amount of cum since the last round.
Steve sleeps through his alarm and misses his shift the next morning. Robin makes a big show of how much Steve and Eddie owe her one for covering, but she also says congratulations, so all is well there.
Eddie tries to make it up to Steve with his lips and tongue between his legs, but Steve pulls his head up for a kiss instead.
“I’ve created a monster,” Steve laughs, light and happy. Eddie thinks he’s just found his new favorite sound.
Eddie kisses him soundly, but there’s too much teeth from how much they’re both smiling.
He runs his hands down Steve’s naked sides, sliding underneath to gently cup his ass. Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth. The omega attempts to pull down Eddie’s boxers, but when he can’t he makes the most adorable little whine of frustration.
Eddie pauses to get up and remove his boxers, and Steve looks at him with the most enticing mix of lust and faux innocence. Once he sees Eddie’s cock, his eyes grow wide, and suddenly Eddie feels like a meal. He raises an eyebrow.
“What’s that look mean?” Eddie asks, unashamed of the bald affection in his voice.
“It means I need that inside of me,” Steve answers, looking pointedly at Eddie’s cock. “Preferably with a knot.”
And who is Eddie to say no to that?
He gets back in bed, goes to crawl back over Steve before Steve grabs him, flipping him onto his back in one quick motion. It’s the same smooth fluidity he saw Steve fight with in the Upside Down, but this time there’s no otherworldly demons to distract from just how hot Eddie finds it.
Steve straddles Eddie with a hand on his chest for balance. He looks like some sort of Grecian god atop him. Eddie’s sure there’s hearts in his eyes.
“Before we do this, you should know,” Steve says with a blush, suddenly shy, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
Eddie is surprised he doesn’t die right then and there, because really his heart was never prepared for Steve Harrington.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” Eddie chokes out, his emotions caught in his throat.
Steve gives him a gentle kiss, and Eddie feels a tear fall on his cheek. When Steve pulls back, his eyes are wet. Eddie coos, trying to console him, but Steve shakes his head.
“It’s happy crying,” Steve gasps with a smile. He sits up and wipes his tears with his free hand.
“God, I should break up with you for making me cry during sex for literally the first time ever,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles as he grabs Steve’s hips. He brushes his thumbs in a soothing pattern on the soft skin of Steve’s sides.
“But you won’t,” Eddie says, not a doubt in his mind. Steve sniffles and stares up at the ceiling for a moment.
“No, I won’t,” Steve says softly, before bringing his head down and gathering himself.
“Alright, Munson, here’s what’s going to happen here. I’m going to ride you into this mattress. Then you’re going to court me for at least a month, and, yes, I do still want courting gifts.”
Eddie’s cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling.
“After that we’re going to date for a while, and I’m going to make you wait at least a year to bite me. But we will be mates, and one day we’ll have lots of babies so we’ll have a whole big family. Does that sound alright to you?”
Eddie has to pull Steve down for a kiss before he can answer, affection bubbling up like a volcano within him.
“That sounds great to me, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. “How many kids?”
“I want six, but I’m willing to negotiate down to five if you really want,” Steve concedes.
Eddie can’t fucking wait to get his bite on this boy’s neck. But he will. He’d wait forever if he had to.
“Six sounds perfect,” Eddie agrees. “Think we should get some practice in?
Steve positively beams as he reaches behind him, grabbing Eddie’s hard cock with his hand and lining it up against the seam of his pussy.
Eddie opens his mouth to ask if Steve’s ready, but the breath is stolen from his chest when Steve sits down, taking Eddie all the way to the root like it’s nothing.
Eddie groans loudly at the hot, tight heat of Steve around him. He wants to live inside this cunt, his dick snug and warm inside the sanctuary of Steve’s body.
Steve only takes a few moments to adjust, and before Eddie knows it Steve is bouncing on his cock like he was made for it. Steve’s own hard dick jerks around with each rise and fall of Steve’s hips.
Eddie moves to jerk Steve’s cock, but the omega smacks his hand away before he can even get there.
“Wanna come just from you and your knot, baby,” Steve says with a shuddering breath, rolling his hips in a way that has Eddie seeing stars.
Steve does all of the work, and Eddie is just sort of helpless to watch as the man of his dreams coaxes out Eddie’s pleasure like it belongs to him.
Eddie can feel his knot forming at the base of his cock, and he can tell the exact moment Steve does, too, because the omega starts moaning out a steady knot me, knot me, knot me.
Eddie feels about to pop, but Steve has all the control here. Steve’s moans are beginning to sound more like sobs, and in a flash he’s shaking and spasming as he lets out a mess of cum all over Eddie’s stomach.
Steve’s climax has him tightening up, and the muscles of his cunt seem to pull Eddie and his knot in. It feels too good, like something this perfect shouldn’t be able to exist.
Eddie bites off a howl as he fills Steve with his seed, his knot finally tying them together. His bones feel liquid, as if his soul is being sucked out of him through his dick.
When he comes down, Steve lays on top of him, pressing light kisses to the scars on his chest, neck, and shoulders. He produces a box of tissues from seemingly nowhere and wipes the cooling cum off of Eddie’s chest.
Eddie feels bone deep exhaustion begin to set in. He and Steve will be locked together for a while, and Steve looks similarly wiped, his blinking slow and syrupy.
As much as he wants to cherish the moment, he knows in his heart that he and Steve will have a lifetime of these moments together.
Before he can fully nod off, Steve’s sleepy voice cuts through the fog.
“I just realized you never actually answered about your favorite ice cream flavor,” Steve says with a yawn. He’s asleep on Eddie’s chest before Eddie even gets a chance to answer.
Eddie’s favorite ice cream flavor is Rocky Road.
But from this day forward, he’ll always say it’s strawberry whenever anyone asks.