Archive of Our Own

I Wanna Be Adored – The Stone Roses

I don’t have to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I don’t need to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I wanna be adored

Eddie was no stranger to the basketball team roughing him around. Or any of the sports teams, really.

He’d had a target on his back the second he walked through the doors of Hawkins High. A freshman, scrawny. Already his full height, but not as tall as a jock.

A growing out buzz cut, scraggly more than curly.

He was still coming into his own style but was different enough. His ripped, chain-adorned jeans weren’t clean-cut Levi’s, and holey band t-shirts weren’t ironed polos with expensive logos.

Only girls should wear jewellery.

And apparently, that made him worth knocking him to the floor, into lockers, into other students. Made him worth mocking. Worth spreading rumours about.

He was useful to the in-crowd as a punching bag, nothing more.

As time went on, he got better at handling them. Put more meat on his bones, developed a loudmouth attitude and made some friends. Used his differences and his taste for metal as a weapon.

The jocks still liked to mess with him, but it was difficult to find him alone or vulnerable, surrounded by Hellfire Club as he often was. So if the guys were outnumbered, the most they could do was sling insults. Call him a freak. Call him threepeat.

They saved the physical shit for when he was by himself. In the hallway or the stairwell on the way to or from classes. In the bathroom.

Or when he was in the parking lot.

Like now.

His van was one of the last vehicles in the lot because he had to stay late for detention. He got detention so often he considered it part of his routine.

The other cars belonged to the team. He recognized most of them. Steve Harrington’s stood out, the nicest one of them all. The burgundy beemer.

Carver and his crew barely exchanged a word or glance with one another as they approached. Circled like a school of sharks that smelled blood. They moved like a hive, all on the same wavelength.

“Hey!”

“Hey, freak!”

“Freak, he’s talking to you!”

Five on one wasn’t good odds, but as a rule, he never backed down from a fight. If they killed him, he was going to die laughing and spitting blood on their fancy clothes.

They were the less ferocious jocks, anyway. The juniors. B-string at best. Not like Tommy Hagan, Billy Hargrove, or Steve Harrington. As tough as Eddie liked to think he was, he wouldn’t have been that stupid to face those boys. Didn’t have a death wish, or anything.

Well… he liked to think he wasn’t that stupid. Jocks of any caliber had a way of riling him up. He couldn’t help himself from riling them up right back.

“Freak?” Eddie said. “That’s not what your mom called me last ni—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, Jason had him shoved up against his van. Hands twisted in the lapels of his jacket.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your mouth.”

“Again, not what your mom told me.” Eddie smiled. “In fact, she told me to—”

Jason slammed him hard enough against the metal that it creaked and protested with the force.

“Watch the paint,” Eddie snapped. “I like to keep her pristine, jackass.”

The van was rusted, beat to hell. Over ten years old. But that wasn’t the point.

It didn’t take much more of an exchange before Jason resorted to punching. Patrick and Andy backed him up. The other two cavemen observed and jeered in support.

Eddie tasted blood, had trouble catching his breath. The boys had nabbed his backpack and strewn the contents all over the ground.

Loose papers blew across the parking lot, lost to the wind. Fucking perfect. That was at least another detention. Maybe more. Missing homework and worksheets for more than one class, most likely. As if the teachers would believe it wasn’t his fault.

Worse than the school shit… there were D&D documents. Character sheets, campaign plans. And lyrics for songs he hadn’t had the chance to record yet. Stuff he wasn’t sure he could recreate from memory. Research.

“Hey!”

Eddie wiped his hair out of his face and the blood off his brow to see who was interrupting them. Great, was it six on one now? Fucking Harrington. Always sticking his perfect nose in everyone else’s business.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

“Teaching the freak a lesson.” Jason straightened his jacket. “Want in?”

“Are you serious?” Steve bit.

Jason faltered.

So did Eddie. Steve had seemed different lately, sure. Eddie noticed that. But however different, Steve still wasn’t nice.

“You’re actually serious?” Steve repeated.

“Uh… yeah?” Jason glanced side to side at his friends. Again.

“Ganging up on one guy. All by himself?” Steve had his hands on his hips, looked Jason up and down in disgust. “You’re pathetic.”

Jason’s face went redder than it already was. “It’s just the freak, what do you care?”

Yeah, exactly. What do you care? Best Eddie could tell, it was more pride than personal. Steve didn’t like the odds of the fight, not the fact that Eddie was the one being attacked. Would he have stepped in if it were Jason alone? He doubted it.

“Get out of my face,” Steve snapped. “I’m tired of looking at you.”

Eddie was admittedly impressed when they scurried away at his command. Steve hadn’t even raised his voice, or threatened to rat anybody out. Or threatened to hurt them. All he’d done was call out their weakness, and they took his assessment to heart. Sorted themselves out.

Of course, if Eddie had said the same thing to them, it wouldn’t have mattered because they didn’t care about his opinion. Steve was their king, and if he called them pathetic, it must’ve been true.

“You all right?” Steve asked, once they were alone.

Eddie was impressed, not moved. Didn’t appreciate being pigeonholed into the damsel in distress role. Didn’t appreciate Steeeve Harrington puffing up his chest and peacocking. Helping him out. Who the hell did he think he was?

Eddie would’ve rather been beat to a pulp than owe Steve a goddamn thing, and so ignored him, stooped to grab his backpack and whatever papers were closest and yanked his door open.

“Eddie—”

“I don’t want your help,” Eddie bit, turning around to face Steve. He jabbed a finger into his chest for good measure.

What did he care? Stupid jock. Supreme ruler with a crown of golden hair.

He paused, waiting for Steve to turn on him and insult him. Finish what Jason started.

He surprised the hell out of him when he only said, “Maybe not, but you have it anyway.”

“We’ve got this far without being friends, and I’m not a fan of change. So…”

Eddie climbed into his van and slammed the door. Stuck a cigarette between his lips and rolled down the window since it was a hot box in there. Steve be damned. He could stand there and look like an idiot all he wanted. Eddie would just blow smoke in his face.

He didn’t stay, though. Steve merely gave him a thin-lipped smile and nod. “Sure, man. I just thought—Never mind. Whatever.” He headed off in the direction of his car without another word.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something. Something like Wait, or Hold up. Like, You just thought what? or Thanks, or Sorry for being a dick, or I’m just not used to having help from your kind…

But the moment passed.

He swallowed his second thoughts and drove home.

Like he said, they’d survived this long without being friends. Why break tradition?

Dinner for Eddie was a couple beers and a joint. It took the edge off his split lip and black eyes.

Listless, lonely, he toyed with the idea of watching TV. Maybe planning a new campaign, or noodling around on the guitar. There were a couple new songs he wanted to nail down before Tuesday’s gig at the Hideout.

Shit. The songs.

He retrieved his backpack from where he’d carelessly tossed it in the entryway and took inventory, not entirely aware of what was lost.

The pages attached to the rings of his binder or not torn from his spiral notebook were safe, albeit a little crumpled. Some pages had been spared.

But the few he had in his head as being the most important, and so the most unfortunate to have lost… They weren’t there.

“Fuck!” Eddie ground out. “God damn it, fucking—urrghhh.”

For this, Eddie wished he could’ve seen Steve deck Jason one. Just one good one. Grip that blonde head of hair and slam his face into the van. Grind it in just a little bit. Improve the paint job. If Steve wanted to be a hero and help him so damn bad, might as well make himself useful and give Jason a scar or three. Entertainment Eddie could view with satisfaction in the days to come.

Even better. Could Steve have not wasted time asking Eddie how he was and instead salvaged the rest of the sheets he missed? Let his long-ass, athletic legs carry him across the parking lot to catch the papers before they flew too far away?

Whatever.

Whatever.

Eddie could try to remember the lyrics. It would be fine. At least for the sections of the song in English… But how was he supposed to remember the rest? The part of the song he and Gareth had written in Latin? They’d worked on it for weeks, consulting several dictionaries—as many as the dismal Hawkins library had to offer (two)—to get the language as accurate as possible to emulate an actual summoning ritual.

For fuck’s sake. He should’ve made sure there were other copies. Should’ve accounted for the fact that the world would find some way to fuck him over. It always did.

And why the fuck not? Why not kick Eddie when he was down?

His parents were shit. School was shit. His entire life. His music.

Ugly. Virgin. A loser. And gay to boot.

Thankfully, Jason and his minions didn’t know that part of it, or they might actually kill him.

As if he had a chance to make it to the big time. It was stupid anyways, what was he thinking? Trying to be edgy, to be metal. Lyrics in a different language. References to D&D in the English lyrics, demon and fiend lore and imagery to go with the theme of the album they hoped to make their demo— Hellfire by Corroded Coffin.

It was never going to fucking happen. He was stupid to hope.

He hated to give into the pity party and spiral. Usually, he let it roll off his back. Crying about his pathetic life felt more shameful than actually having a bad life.

But not tonight. The jocks were under his skin tonight.

It wasn’t fucking fair. Punished for being different, for having interests that definitely weren’t niche everywhere else. But in a small-town? In Hawkins? Playing D&D and being a metalhead was nothing short of a crime.

Eddie had a third beer and another joint for dessert. Plugged in his guitar to the amp and channelled his rage through the music.

At first it was instrumental. The chords triggered his memory, though, and a lot of the song came back to him.

He stumbled over the foreign words, repeating lines a few times over until they sounded right. He was certain it wasn’t correct, but it was close enough. And for how few people listened to Corroded Coffin play, he doubted anyone would notice.

But if by some chance a scout came to the Hideout… By some fucking stroke of luck. If he ever had the opportunity to play in a full stadium. Fans in the audience would understand him. They’d know what he was singing about. Their ears would be trained enough to pick out the hidden treasures. There would be fan forums where like-minds would discuss the lyrics and speculate on his intended meaning.

He closed his eyes and pictured it as he played. Imagined all the miserable bastards from Hawkins seeing his concert coverage on the TV, listening to it on the radio. Hearing that Eddie Munson was famous, and rich, and that he’d fucking won. They could pound the pavement in door-to-door sales, work for their parents, or flip burgers at McDonald’s for all he cared. Maybe even go to college and get some cushy corporate job. Have families. Smalltown success.

No matter what they fucking accomplished, though, they’d have to live with the knowledge that the freak bested them. That they peaked in high school. They’d never outdo their teenaged shine.

Eddie was going to shine forever.

What would Steve Harrington think? Would his preppy two-point-five kids grow to like metal by some miracle? Would they want the merch and the albums, want to go to his concerts and beg their daddy for the ticket money? Would he have to swallow his pride for the sake of his children’s favour and support the freak? Watch him perform in his stage getup. The lame-ass would probably wear a polo tucked into his khakis and get wrecked in the pit.

Eddie could picture it. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t be the kids who brought Steve to Eddie’s neck of the woods. Maybe he’d figure it all out on his own. Stand in the groupie line, salivating for an autograph and dying to get backstage to make up for what he’d missed back in his long dead glory days while Eddie’s glory days were only beginning.

And maybe he was an ugly virgin now, but surely he wouldn’t be forever. Not once he left Hawkins, escaped the Puritans, and entered the real world. People would understand his music and him.

Eddie powered through the chorus, so energized he was sweating, heart thumping in his ears while he recited the Latin, uncaring if his pronunciation was imperfect.

He ended the song with a flourish. As if he really was on stage and a crowd was cheering for him, adoring him. Screaming when he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. Begging for him to take it all the way off. And he would. He’d take off his shirt and throw it in the audience, reciprocate their adoration. He’d throw his sweaty clothes right in Steve Harrington’s dumb face.

So immersed in the fantasy, he started to think he could actually hear the pounding of applause, the overwhelming echo of praise.

But it was just some asshole knocking on the door.

At this hour? Wayne wasn’t due back until morning.

It was too dark to see, so he opened the door with barely an inkling of who could be on the other side.

Probably a neighbour complaining about the noise. Good, he hoped. He was in a mood and wanted someone to tell off.

Nothing could have prepared him for—

“Harrington?” Eddie frowned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re the one who called me.” Steve stared at Eddie so intently that he had to look down and double check he wasn’t accidentally naked, or some shit. Guy was unnerving.

“No, I didn’t.” Then he muttered more to himself than Steve, “Did I?”

Was he that high? No. No way. He was no lightweight when it came to substances.

“Do I even have your number?” Eddie ran a hand over his hair, took Steve’s appearance in. Different outfit than earlier, hair bouncier, letterman jacket mode. Like he’d showered and dressed up before stopping by. Probably to rub it in Eddie’s face how much of a disaster he was. The fucker looked… shit. Steve looked good.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“That was only like… two,” Eddie scoffed.

Steve brushed past him and inside.

“Hey, man, I didn’t say you could come in.” Eddie trailed after him. Watched Steve plop on the couch and put his feet onto the table. Clean, white Nikes. One arm along the back of the couch.

“Make yourself right at home.” Eddie threw his arms up.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“Seriously, what are you doing here? I told you earlier. I don’t want your help, or whatever.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

“Don’t want it. Don’t need it.”

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“Who do you think you are? Fucking walking in here like you own the place. I know I didn’t call you.”

“Oh? You know, do you? You weren’t sure a minute ago.”

“Well, now I am. My buzz is worn off, and I think I’d remember ringing up the Harrington house. And I’d definitely remember asking you to come over because it’d be real fucking out of character.”

“Would it?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose that’s true. You—”

“Exactly. So you can go now.”

“It’s rude to interrupt,” Steve said.

“My sincerest apologies. It’s rude to barge into people’s houses unannounced.”

“Is it a house, though?”

“Yeah, see? That right there.” Eddie pointed at him, a hysterical laugh bubbling past his lips. Good thing he hadn’t gone against his instincts earlier and been nice to this prick. “That’s why it’d be out of character for me to call you. So fucking high and mighty. Think you’re so much better. You and all your little—”

Steve yawned. “Don’t be so touchy. This isn’t a house. Simple fact.”

“Whatever it is or isn’t. You’re not welcome, so kindly get the fuck out.”

“I’m bored of this game,” Steve said. “Sit down.”

“No. Get out.”

“Sit. Down.”

Eddie didn’t want to, had refusal on his tongue, but found himself walking over anyway.

“Good.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Now. Let’s talk about why I’m here.”

“Besides to annoy the shit out of me?”

Steve ignored him. “What is it exactly that you want, Eddie? What are your deepest desires?”

And they thought he was the freak?

“Dude.” Eddie threw him a look. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I know one of them.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” He couldn’t resist taking the bait.

“Me.”

“Are you—Heh. You can’t be serious.” Eddie sputtered. “I don’t even—What?”

“You resist it, bury it, but your mind is loud.”

“Yeah, okay, buddy. Whatever you say.”

“What if I said you could have me?”

“I—I don’t understand.” Eddie brought a strand of hair to his mouth and started rubbing it against his lips. He shook himself out of it when he realized what he was doing. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“You’re cute, you know. Not like your friends, so boring and pathetic. Untalented. Unimaginative. They don’t have the potential. But you, Eddie… You could be something special. Granted, you are still pathetic, but I suppose you get points for managing to summon me at all.”

Where the fuck to even start? Should he protest being called pathetic? Defend his friends? Examine what Steve meant by cute?

“Summon you?” Eddie echoed. “Ohhh. I see. That’s what this is about.”

“You’re lucky this is my territory. Your Latin is rudimentary at best, and you very nearly summoned someone else. But. It did the job, so here we are.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie grinned. “Are you actually trying to pretend like you’re a demon? Seriously?” It explained why Steve was talking weird. Sounded less like bro-speak and like something out of bad TV. When the bad guys were always British and spoke in riddles. Steve didn’t go all out with an accent, but his cadence was certainly demonic posh.

“Who’s pretending?”

“You know, I am so sick of this satanic shit. You and your jock minions give me shit all day at school, and then you gotta work overtime and make house calls? It’s a fucking game. Dungeons and Dragons. Okay, moron? I don’t summon demons. I don’t pray to the devil. The only thing I deal is weed and dice. So why don’t you just go to hell?”

“I could,” Steve said, “could take you with me, too.”

Steve inclined his head, regarded him carefully. His eyes flicked back and forth like he was calculating. He righted his head, remained quiet and still apart from those eyes.

The hairs on Eddie’s forearms stood up and his skin prickled. Steve should do theatre, or something because he was good. Had Eddie wondering. Could his fake ritual actually have worked?

Could he actually have summoned—no. No.

Demons weren’t real.

He knew they weren’t.

But if they were, wouldn’t they look like models? The perfect temptation.

Wouldn’t they look like Steve Harrington?

No. Eddie was a lot of things, but he wasn’t gullible.

Steve wasn’t a regular person, okay, but that didn’t make him a demon. He was an uber douche. Who apparently had managed to get his grubby little paws over Eddie’s missing pages.

Who apparently… read and understood Latin?

Steve smiled brightly at him, eyes aglow. A catch of the light. “Still processing?”

He was so fucking smug.

“Okay, this is funny and all. You had me there for a second. I admit it. All right? Now you can go laugh about it with all your friends,” Eddie said. “Really, good for you. Awesome. You pulled one over on the freak. Now give me back my shit, and leave.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Steve laughed. “Humans and their silly little minds. You’ll run circles around yourself trying to deny what’s right in front of you. Nobody’s joking, Eddie. Nobody’s ‘pulling one over’ on you. I’m here to help you.”

“If you wanna help me, go. The fuck. Away.”

“No.”

“The fuck? Yes. Go!” He pointed to the door.

Steve sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Tell me one thing, first.”

“Ugh. What?”

“Do you find me handsome?”

Eddie wiped his hands over his face. Maybe he was high. Because this was absurd. “Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite.” Steve smirked.

“Seriously? That cliché? That’s the best you got?”

Steve acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “Do you, Eddie, find me, Steeeve Harrington, handsome? A simple yes or no will do.”

“You’re the one who said my mind is loud, or whatever. So read my mind, smartass. Then you’ll know what I think of you.”

Douchebag. Asshole. Idiot. Hot—fuck. PRICK.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“No, I don’t. Okay? Hate to break it to you, but not everybody has the hots for you. And anyway, I’m not gay, so…”

Steve appeared delighted at his answer, settled back into the couch and relaxed even more.

“What?” Eddie pressed, crossing his arms.

“You’re a pretty good liar, but you oversold it at the end there. Not gay? Please.”

“I’m not.” Eddie’s hackles rose. “And I don’t know what you think you know, but—”

“Oh, be quiet.” He waved his hand like he was swatting away a bug. “It’s of no consequence to me.”

“Okay, here’s a thought,” Eddie said. “How about you get the fuck out of my trailer and leave me alone. You know? I don’t even know why you bothered to help me today, if you can even call it that, if you were just gonna come here later and crawl up my ass.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You’re very fun to play with, but let’s get to the real point.”

“You leaving?”

Steve stood up, his face clouding as he towered over Eddie on the couch. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

Eddie went to protest, for the hundredth time. Call Steve a jackass, resort to threatening him with a shotgun or a switchblade—his choice—if he didn’t leave. But he found himself unable to make his mouth move.

He struggled, but his jaw was glued shut.

He looked at Steve in a panic, mind racing. How did he do that? Maybe Rick had laced his supply and he was hallucinating.

“That’s better,” Steve mused. “You’re quite the motor mouth.”

Fuck you.

“The downside to reading minds.” Steve smiled. “Can’t halt your thoughts in the same way. I can slow them down, though.”

Eddie’s brain was stuck in mud, sinking. Every thought passing through his mind in slow motion. More than distinct, specific words, he was thinking in feeling.

Confused.

Scared.

Amazed.

All he could do was sit there and watch Steve watch him. Perfect and, ugh… handsome. Why the jacket did things for him when everyone he hated wore one, Eddie didn’t know. Maybe he had a kink for wanting things he shouldn’t and couldn’t have.

Steve stretched his arms above his head, raised his shirt to his belly button. Just long enough for Eddie to catch the glimpse of his treasure trail and the belt that was keeping everything locked up. That tan strip of skin, probably so warm and soft, and he wanted to lick it. Lick everywhere.

Steve grinned at him and put his arms back down. “We’ll get there, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

“What are you?” Finally being able to speak was like getting over a stuffed nose that came with colds. Breathing was so precious. Speech was precious.

“What do you think?”

“A…” Eddie swallowed. It was so ridiculous. What if he was wrong, let himself believe that magic could be real? What if he believed Steve, and he dropped the act and laughed at him? “Demon?” He whispered the word, like if he was wrong and he’d said it quietly, he wouldn’t be as wrong.

“Technical term is incubus, but sure.”

“No way,” Eddie said. He was discounting his own suggestion, but how could he not? Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe Steve knew some sort of hypnosis trick and had made him think he couldn’t talk. Made him think his thoughts slowly. Somehow he’d primed him earlier, and then triggered him now.

That had to be it. Because he wasn’t as delusional as people thought he was. He knew demons didn’t exist. Vampires, werewolves, demogorgons, orcs, or hellhounds. Any of the shit that went along with his love of fantasy. It was fake. Pretend. Fantasy.

“I may be your fantasy, but I’m not a fantasy,” Steve said.

“You can’t be a demon.”

Couldn’t he, though? If he was answering questions Eddie wasn’t asking aloud? Forcing him to sit down and—Fuck, he’d been singing the song just before Steve’s arrival. You called me. He’d… no fucking way.

“Incubus.”

“You-you just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve known Steve for years.” Definition of known was loose, but still.

“So?”

“Why the fuck would a demon—”

“Incubus.”

“—go to school? If you’re like, a thousand years old, or whatever… What’s the point of going to high school? In Hawkins. Are you insane? It’s fucking miserable here.”

“Exactly,” Steve said. “The perfect clientele. Lots to want.”

“No… you can’t be a d— an incubus. Just no. Steve, he has friends. Girlfriends. He plays, like, sports and shit. He has a whole life.”

“Farce.”

“How do you trick everybody? What about his parents?”

“Have you actually seen my parents?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean jack shit.”

“I have to admit, Eddie. You’re interesting. Unique.”

Eddie hated that the compliment pleased him. “Why’s that?” he snapped.

“Your first thought didn’t go to possession.”

“Holy fuck.” Duh. That made so much more sense. “So that wasn’t you… He really was being nice to me earlier, and then you, what, you got him? Is that it? You highjacked his body?” Eddie started backing away, eyes darting around for a weapon of some kind. The reality of his situation was setting in faster and faster.

“You’re getting colder.”

Eddie knew he could talk if he wanted to, but he had nothing to say. His mind was roiling with all the possibilities and the contradictions. This was impossible. From start to finish, nonsensical. Even if it was… even if it was true. Which? No fucking way. If Steve was a demon and always around, why wait to be summoned unintentionally by a random song? He’d had years to nab him. But he’d barely spoken to him. Why bother in the parking lot? What was the point?

And nobody from Hawkins ever got famous. At least not that he knew of. Unless… what the fuck were Steve’s victims asking for? Simple, small-time shit? Or maybe nobody ever found success or riches because Steve renegued on his deals. And how were they summoning Steve if they didn’t know Latin?

Eddie barely knew himself, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have intentionally brought evil into his home. He didn’t want anything. At least not something he’d have to sacrifice his soul for.

I could take you with me. He didn’t want to go to hell.

And it just didn’t make sense. Demons didn’t walk around in the daylight, masquerading as high school students in small towns. They—

“You’re not convinced.” Steve mused. “I’ll prove it to you, then.” He approached, and all of Eddie’s hair stood on end.

The mere sensation of Steve’s proximity drove Eddie closer to believing. He could feel the dark energy radiating off his body. See the eyes that didn’t look quite human. Pupils on the wrong side of circular, and mesmerizing. Had Steve always looked this way? Eddie hadn’t really ever been close enough to inspect them. He smelled intoxicating. Woodsmoke in the perfect amount, before it overstayed its welcome and turned sour. Steve was fire itself. Danger, and sex, and—

Fuck, he kept getting lost in the swirl of disbelief and desperation.

“H-how?” Eddie asked, clearing his throat. “How are you going to prove it?”

“You play your silly games and read your silly books, Eddie. But tell me, have you ever seen a real monster?”

Just the one in my pants.

“Deflection to hide your fear. Typical,” Steve breathed directly into his ear. “And the crudeness. Humans,” he said it like a curse word. “Especially the males… After all my centuries, I’ve never encountered one who didn’t obsess over his cock.”

Centuries? He didn’t speak the word aloud, but it made his voice squeak all the same. And he really regretted the dick joke about now. Spending too much time with Gareth made him immature.

“I’ll tell you a secret. Demons, fiends, incubi… we’re no better. Only difference is our cocks are worth obsessing over.”

“Cocks… like”—he licked his lips— “like plural ?” His eyes flickered down.

“If I want. Only useful for girls. Both holes at once. Makes them go to pieces. Some of the greedy boys like it too. Two-in-one, if you get my meaning.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Fuuuuck.

“I know you’re greedy. I sense it in you. And willing victims are so much sweeter.”

I am not. Greedy or willing or a victim. He wouldn’t allow it. Any of it.

“But the sweetest of them all are the ones in denial. They burn for it.” Steve smirked. “You burn, Eddie, don’t you?”

The way his name slipped off his tongue. Eddie. Made him sound special.

Eddie shook his head. “No. I told you…”

“Right, you’re not gay. Just like you’re not, what was it? An ugly virgin?”

Holy shit. Reading minds real time was one thing, but he knew his past thoughts too? Unless he was constantly thinking that in his subconscious and it was blinking like a neon sign. Ugly virgin. Ugly virgin. Ugly gay virgin. Step right up and get your freaky gay virgin.

“I’ll tell you one thing. You’re not ugly.”

Eddie scoffed. “Yeah. Okay. That’s harder to believe than you being a demon.”

Steve eyed him.

“Incubus, sorry.” Eddie held up his hands. “Sorry.”

When he said it again, it was more than parroting. It clicked for him now. Incubus.

If there were any similarities at all between D&D lore and real life, then he knew the ins and outs of monsters and demons, their stats and the hierarchy. It was his job as Dungeon Master. He knew what motivated Steve. What entertained him. And it wasn’t souls, but sex.

The whole two cocks thing only solidified the theory.

All this time, Eddie had buried his sexuality. Looked at guys like Steve, who were homophobic at worst or repressed at best—sometimes a lovely mix of both—and feared them. Outside of his rockstar fantasies, he never even entertained the thought he could have a chance with any of them, let alone Steve Harrington.

Now his entire worldview had shifted. He’d accidentally summoned Steve, but Steve was intentionally propositioning him. Every word out of Steve’s mouth was more jarring than the last. More unbelievable.

The frost thawed and Steve smiled at him. “Being a virgin is the best thing you can be in a case like this, anyway. So I wouldn’t fret about it.”

“You take virginity instead of souls.”

“Often.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathed.

Maybe that’s why nobody from Hawkins had anything to show for the deals they made with Steve. He fucked them so good there was nothing more to want.

“That interests you.”

Eddie couldn’t make himself shrug and feign nonchalance. It was futile anyway if Steve was telepathic.

That was… not a bad deal. Everyone lost it eventually, and if he could get something in return? Why wouldn’t he capitalize? And Steve wasn’t bad on the eyes. He—fuck no. He was not actually considering this. 

“Deny all you want, Eddie. Like I said. It’ll make you taste all the better.”

“What if I said no?” He forced himself to sound brave, even though potentially defying this creature terrified him. Losing out on the opportunity terrified him more.

“Hmm. Nobody’s said no to me yet,” Steve said. “I admit. That question stumps me.”

“Would you hurt me if I did?”

“Are you going to? Say no?”

Eddie faltered.

“I didn’t think so.” Steve grinned. “You got me thinking, though. What would I do to you for wasting my time? Getting me out here just to resist. There’d have to be some sort of punishment. I’m a busy man, after all.”

“I—”

“Like I said,” Steve continued, voice less a voice and more a purr. “You’re not going to say no. Are you? Because you want this. Me. You’ve been wanting me, and now you get to have me, Eddie.”

“Why now?” Eddie whispered. Steve could read minds, so could’ve picked up on his hidden desire anytime during the last few years they spent as classmates. Could’ve used it against him as soon as he caught wind of it instead of waiting for Eddie to sing some words… unless he had to operate on the basis of a formal summoning for the magic to work? Or maybe—

“Why not?” Steve gripped Eddie’s wrist, inclined his head without breaking his stare.

Eddie blinked, thoughts decelerating from hyper speed to a crawl. Instead of scary, it was soothing.

“Eddie,” Steve said. “If this was truly a mistake. If you don’t want my help… If you want to continue to suffer and yearn. Not get what you want, continue to be the laughingstock of Hawkins. If you want to be hated and feared. Lonely and pathetic… Tell me. Say the word. I swear I’ll go this time.”

“But what about the—”

“The punishment?”

Eddie nodded. “And what about school tomorrow? Does everything just go back to normal after we… you know.”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Because I have a lot. I don’t understand.”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

“How—What—” Eddie swallowed. “What do I have to do? The sex … it’s uh… Is it—”

“Spit it out, sweet thing.”

“Is it like… all the way ?” he managed.

Did it depend on how big of an ask he made? Would a simple handjob do if all he wanted was a new car? A blowjob if he wanted a house? A sold-out stadium, wealth, fame, beauty, love… He was a virgin and most likely a lousy lay. Would Steve find it worth it to give him allll that?

“The deal is, you get what you desire, and so do I.”

That told him zero. Steve Harrington, incubus or not, could fuck anyone he wanted. And he was willing to fuck Eddie and give him fame and fortune on top of it? It was a joke, no matter how he looked at it. The deal seemed slanted completely in Eddie’s favour. What did Steve get out of it? Would he even be able to get hard?

“Don’t insult me,” Steve bit.

“I’m sorry, man. I just… I don’t get it.” He didn’t bother speaking all of his reservations aloud since Steve could pluck them out of the ether of his mind.

“Bedroom.” Steve’s voice was clipped.

His long legs carried him to the back of the trailer. To Eddie’s disaster area of a room.

Eddie kept his eyes trained on the back of Steve’s letterman jacket the whole way. The green and white should’ve been ugly, but Steve worked it. Eddie sort of wanted to wear it while Steve fucked him, sort of wanted Steve to keep it on too. Maybe he’d keep all of his clothes on while they had sex, and he’d take his cock out just enough to put it to use, and then Steve would be inside him. At least, he supposed that was how it would go. But he also wanted to see the full portrait of Steve’s body. Would be a shame to keep it covered it up.

Steve stopped suddenly and Eddie ran into him. He recoiled, afraid he might’ve offended Steve, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he snapped his fingers and several of Eddie’s dresser drawers flew open. Papers shot out from under his bed in a flurry.

“Hey!” Eddie complained.

Steve walked to the drawers, rooted around. Handcuffs, plugs, dildos, lube, and paddles. All the toys. Then there were the magazines, and the tapes.

Steve caught Eddie completely off guard when he wheeled around and slapped him across the face. Hand cracking against the skin, pain rippling from the source and outward like lightning bolts.

“Ow.” Eddie cupped his cheek.

“You’re disgusting,” Steve spat.

“I know,” Eddie whimpered. He had no idea what compelled him to say it, but it was what came tumbling out.

Steve inclined his head, shifted his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”

“Does it?”

“I don’t feel sympathy, but I’m pleased you know your place. Smart boy.”

Eddie’s eyes flashed to Steve’s. The juxtaposition of being struck, insulted, then praised. The prospect of being taken by Steve Harrington. It all had him confused and hard, and confused about being hard. He was alive and alight with burning desire.

“I’ve never met a more perverted virgin,” Steve mused with a smile.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Take it however you want.”

Eddie averted his eyes from the worst of the messy display Steve had made. Like if he couldn’t see it, nobody could.

“I’m not going to deflower you gently,” Steve continued. “And we both know that’s not what you want, either, Eddie.” This time he growled out his name.

Eddie shuddered.

“That’s what I get out of this. The fun of taking you apart and being the first one to do it.” Steve dragged his fingers over Eddie’s cheek where it stung. The pain eased immediately, and Eddie found himself leaning into the touch.

More than the pain dissipating, his skin started to buzz. Pleasure replaced the pain.

On some level, he knew he was acting like a fool. Embarrassing himself. Nuzzling into Steve’s hand the way he was.

Steve slipped a thumb past Eddie’s lips. “What do you say, Eddie? It’s the bargain of a lifetime. Everything you want. And all you have to do is let me fuck you. Which you want anyways. I don’t see a single downside, angel. Do you?”

Eddie closed his eyes, a last-ditch effort to make sense of the situation. If he opened them and Steve was gone, evaporated like a mirage, he could repress it. No one would know what a freak he really was, fantasizing this way. Maybe one day he could think about his wild imagination and laugh.

The sensation of Steve’s thumb on his tongue, pressing firm, never faded. Only grew more intense.

He opened his eyes, and Steve was still there. Seemed like he was towering over him despite their similar height. Steve regarded him hungrily, hazel-adjacent eyes boring into his.

Eddie’s lips quivered as he went to speak. An attempt to say yes. 

“That’s right, suck it just like that.”

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Steve called attention to the way his lips were wrapped around his thumb, tight. Tongue swirling and flicking. As if he could bring any pleasure to a man this way.

Apparently, he could. Steve kept his eyes trained on him, his own tongue wetting his bottom lip. 

Steve let him do it for a few minutes, and Eddie’s mind was reduced to clouds. He was lost in Steve, knew nothing else. Only knew he was supposed to do this until Steve told him to do something different.

“Enough.” Steve removed his thumb from Eddie’s mouth and wiped the excess spit on his cheek. He stroked Eddie’s hair. “You have a pretty mouth.”

Eddie ducked his head, denied it.

“Look at me.”

Eddie met Steve’s eyes. 

“Are you disagreeing with me?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no.”

“No?” Eddie wasn’t really sure what he was asking.

“Then say it.”

“Say what?” 

Steve smacked him even harder this time. Immediately followed the blow with a yank on his hair, fist entwined and pulling his head back and back. “Say, ‘yes, Steve. I have a pretty mouth.’”

Steve’s voice didn’t sound like his own. It was like… It was his voice. Perfectly mimicking Eddie.

Eddie repeated the words at the ceiling since Steve had forced his head back so far. “Yes, Steve.” Hesitation he wondered if Steve would punish him for. “I have a pretty mouth.” Last two words mumbled because it felt weird to say.

“Let’s put it to good use, then. Shall we?” Steve let him go. “Get on the bed.”

Eddie obeyed, shuffling over to the bed and standing by it. He brought his hands up to his shirt, prepared to take it off, and then he hesitated. Maybe jeans first? But with his hands on his belt buckle, he imagined how dumb it would look to be naked from the waist down with his t-shirt on. Maybe start with the socks?

“Easy,” Steve breathed from behind him, mouthing at the nape of his neck. He wrapped his arms around Eddie and rubbed his big hands up and down Eddie’s flanks. His fingers caught the hem of his t-shirt and dragged it up his stomach. Then Steve’s hands were on his bare skin, feeling and claiming. Steve pinched both of his nipples and made his knees buckle.

“Shit,” Eddie said, embarrassed at his exuberance. His scalp twinged from having his hair pulled, his cheek still stung from the two hits, and he was nervous to receive a third. Excited at the prospect of a third, too. He wanted a bunch of things he shouldn’t.

Right now, Steve’s touch was gentle. He mouthed at Eddie’s neck and jaw, tugging his hair out of the way. And carefully too. He didn’t pull.

“Your neck is as pretty as your mouth,” Steve complimented. “All those strong lines. You could be a sculpture, baby.”

Eddie leaned back against his body, allowing himself to relax despite the danger of having his back to a predator.

He really had wanted this for so long. To be with a guy. To be with Steve Harrington. He wasn’t sure which was the higher priority. Although everyone at school would argue it was all about the satanic aspect… I knew he always wanted to fuck the devil, see? It wasn’t like Steve was walking around with a tail and horns. He was humanoid, more or less. So they could fuck off.

And that was the point of this, he reminded himself. It was about becoming better than what Hawkins thought he was. He wasn’t just doing this to get his rocks off. That was a mere bonus.

Steve hummed in his ear. “Don’t make me slow your thinking again, little one. I want you present mentally and physically for all the things I do to you.”

Eddie opened his eyes reflexively, peering down and freezing at the simultaneous sight and sound of claws ripping his shirt off his chest.

Steve’s fingers were a couple inches longer than they should’ve been, pointed nails extended from the tips.

The shirt lay in shreds on the ground, and Steve’s claws retracted before Eddie’s eyes. His heart pounded in his ears. Steve had played with his mind for proof, had telepathically opened his drawers. But this was the first true sign that Steve was the monster he claimed to be.

“Don’t be frightened,” Steve soothed.

“‘M not,” Eddie lied.

“Remember what I said about denial?” Steve spun him around and gripped his shoulders.

Before Eddie could answer, Steve thrust him backward onto the bed.

He landed on his butt and leaned back on his elbows, Steve not leaving him with a moment to catch his breath before he was descending.

Steve tore Eddie’s jeans off, cast them aside and onto the floor with the rest of the tatters.

He was heavier than he looked, but his weight on top of Eddie was comfortable, not smothering. Steve hovered over him, arms bracketing his shoulders, and Eddie thought he was about to kiss him. The way Steve stared at his face, the same stripping gaze he’d inflicted on him when he’d first knocked at Eddie’s door, was telling.

But he waited, kept Eddie in limbo.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie resented the panic that welled up in his gut. What if Steve changed his mind? What if he took his offering back?

Steve shifted so he was only resting on one of his hands. He used his free hand to brush across Eddie’s brow bones and down to the apples of his cheeks. Tracing his eyes like he was painting an imaginary pair of glasses.

“I don’t like their marks on you,” Steve explained.

As he spoke, the ache around Eddie’s eyes disappeared. Healed, was the deeper pain left from his fight with Jason and his lackies. He knew if he looked in the mirror, his skin would show no bruising. No splits. Only redness from Steve hitting him.

“Perfect,” Steve said. “Now I’m the only one you can feel.”

Eddie nodded at him like an idiot. “Only you.”

Beneath Steve’s body, having only sucked his finger and been in his sharply comforting grasp, Eddie already felt undone. They hadn’t even kissed. He was only shirtless, and Steve was fully clothed. And yet.

Eddie bucked up against Steve, his slim hips slamming against Steve’s broader ones.

“Please,” Eddie whispered.

“So eager,” Steve said, adeptly dodging Eddie’s erratic humping by pulling away. A tease.

Eddie didn’t deny it. He did it again, and this time Steve didn’t pull away but thrust his body. They connected. Eddie’s cock straining in his jeans, Steve the same.

And Eddie didn’t know if it was two dicks or just one, but either way. Steve’s Levi’s were filled out. Of course, he was big, and Eddie already knew that. His memory registered stolen glances in the locker room. Steve wasn’t shy and showered openly. In front of everyone. No care in the world. And outside of the locker room, the regulation speedos and tiny green shorts and the painted-on jeans Steve strutted around in hid absolutely nothing.

It was all Eddie could think about. Steve filling him up and claiming him. Loss tinged his lust as he considered that his longing for Steve was wasted. Outside of this union, he was unattainable. An incubus that would move onto his next victim. Next customer. It wasn’t difficult to accept given that Eddie had barely admitted his crush to himself and therefore never expected reciprocation of any kind from Steve. It was just too bad that it was a one-night stand, and nothing more.

Nothing more apart from Steve fulfilling the rest of his wishes, although he never specifically asked Steve for anything.

That was okay. Because this was enough for Eddie. He’d take the fucking and leave the fame.

He needed Steve.

Only Steve.

Eddie whined for him, and Steve took mercy.

His eyes sparkled obsidian. Darker than Eddie had ever seen them, but bright. His brow and nose sharp. Full mouth. The tiniest hint of his top teeth peeking out beneath his lip. Boyish and manly at the same time. Boy next door superstar. Steve had always been otherworldly and everything made sense now.

It was like now that Eddie had allowed himself to admit what he wanted, his repressed emotions rushed to the surface, threatening to drown him like a surprise wave. The accumulated years-worth of yearning hitting him all at once was overwhelming.

Eddie wanted to consume and be consumed.

He was left breathless at the sight of Steve’s face. Was he carved from stone? Was he real? Too perfect, too glorious. Eddie wanted to look away, not because he was ashamed but because his cells and his blood and his tissue threatened to explode from his skin. His desire so strong.

His cock had never been this hard. Steve as potent as pheromones, strong and purposeful as he assaulted Eddie’s senses.

Eddie felt fucking crazy. Stark-raving mad. Insane. Like if Steve didn’t fuck him this very instant he might die.

“What’s happening to me?” Eddie cried. “I’m so—hgnh.” His voice went high and broke, dissolving into a grunt as Steve gripped his neck and targeted his jugular with his thumb.

“Everything you asked for.”

Eddie squirmed, struggled for air. He brought his hands to overlap Steve’s, not to stop him but to assist. He exerted pressure and made Steve press harder.

It was dangerous and foolish to allow Steve to hold his life in his hands, but Eddie could tell he didn’t have death on his mind. He was playful. Smiling fully now, showing off his entire set of teeth.

Eddie groaned as much as he could with his throat obstructed, finally able to get everything he felt out when Steve adjusted his hand to splay across his chin more than his neck. He hooked his fingers in his mouth and pulled to force it open.

Steve bent down, face directly over Eddie’s. He locked eyes with Eddie and spit in his mouth. It happened so fast Eddie didn’t have time to anticipate it, only accept it. His cock throbbed in response to having some of Steve inside him. At last.

“Swallow it,” he commanded.

It was already on its way down, so he need not have said a word.

“That’s good,” Steve complimented. “Perfect, angel.”

Anything Eddie had to say died before it even took form because Steve slipped his tongue through the seam of his lips. Inhuman, monstrous tongue. Slithering out of his mouth further than it should’ve been able to reach. It split at the tip, and Steve flicked it before he kissed Eddie. The kiss stealing his words as much as the shock of Steve’s serpentine anatomy itself.

Steve kissed him like he was trying to chase his spit down, and maybe Eddie should’ve been grossed out by the whole thing. But he knew a good use for a tongue like that, and envied every person who’d gotten to experience it before him.

“Greedy, like I said.”

Eddie blushed as he realized Steve knew exactly what he wanted. He knew what Eddie didn’t even know he wanted, wouldn’t admit he wanted. The mind-reading thing was a blessing and a curse.

“Good thing I’m greedy, too,” Steve added before he retreated from Eddie’s mouth to settle between his legs. “I want all of you, Eddie.”

The jeans and boxers disappeared like magic. Because it was magic. And all the fear was gone because it was so fucking cool. Magic was real.

And once they were off, Eddie became shy. He’d never been naked with another person in this way. And definitely not with someone who looked like Steve Harrington did. Fucking too good to be true model motherfucker. Steve didn’t call him out for his thoughts, but he did toss him a smirk.

Eddie sort of felt better about the whole Steve being perfect thing now that he knew he was an incubus. As much as it didn’t make sense, it made total sense. Sort of. But how could—

Steve’s tongue winding around his cock shut his thoughts right down.

“Holy fu—oh my god. ”

Steve engulfed the entire thing, and maybe Eddie wasn’t the biggest in the world, but it was still impressive. He couldn’t stop to wonder what the fuck was wrong with him for not being revolted. He was long past that. Who could blame him for overlooking Steve’s snake tongue when it made him feel so good?

Isn’t it funny how humans call to their gods as they’re sinning? I find it funny.

Eddie didn’t immediately understand that it wasn’t his own voice in his head, because how? Steve’s mouth was otherwise occupied, and Eddie wasn’t concerned with who he was calling to when he was getting blown. He was more concerned with the getting blown part.

“S’only an expression,” Eddie mumbled.

Steve smiled with his eyes and continued his assault, tightening his tongue in spirals around Eddie’s dick, constricting it.

Eddie panted, up on his elbows while he stared down his body at Steve. “Please, ah fuck, please. ” He was so close, didn’t care how fast it had reached this point.

Steve Harrington was sucking his dick. Steve Harrington with his luscious pink lips, and his caramel hair, mischievous twinkle in those dark, bright eyes. Who wouldn’t be reduced to a one-minute man at the sight?

Steve’s answering gaze said to Eddie that he agreed.

Every throb threatened to be the last one before he was shooting. It felt big, tight. Scary, like he was toeing the edge of a cliff and about to fall off. Rocks crumbling and disappearing into the void below. Steve tightened his tongue incrementally, brought his lips to Eddie’s leaking tip. A gentle kiss that ripped a ragged whimper from Eddie.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie stiffened, one foot off solid ground and hovering in the air; he was about to let go, let himself drop. “Gonna come, gonna—”

All at once, Steve retracted his tongue.

Eddie’s mouth popped open while his cock flopped back onto his belly, neglected and leaking more white than clear. His skin purple, stripes around his shaft that coincided with the edges of Steve’s tongue.

“Ughhhh.” Why? It was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Hush, little one,” Steve said. “Toys don’t complain when they don’t get to come, do they?”

That made it worse. Again, wanting things he shouldn’t. Letting Steve talk to him like this. Use him like this… Like a toy.

His cheeks couldn’t hold anymore blush, he was so heated already. His bangs must’ve been a fucking sight, hair frizzed. It was humid as shit in the trailer, and everywhere Steve touched him was sticky. He liked it, though. Felt dirty and a little bit wrong. Made the touching last longer, like the sweat on his skin was trying to grip Steve and get him to stay, touch more.

He wondered if Steve would let him come at all. It hadn’t occurred to him, but he also sort of thought Steve was just going to stick it in, fuck him, then leave. He also sort of didn’t know what to expect at all. Had no frame of reference for this, and Steve was evasive.

And Eddie was still hard with no signs of his dick wilting any time soon.

Not now that Steve was naked from the waist up, hairy expanse of his chest on display. When had that happened? Must’ve been when he was pouting at his dick in sympathy. He almost wanted to pat it and assure that it would be okay later. If Steve didn’t make him come, he’d take care of himself when he was alone.

Of course, nothing was stopping him from doing it right now.

Eddie wrapped a hand around himself and gave a couple jerks. His aborted orgasm was easy to retrieve. He looked Steve straight in the eyes, his balls drawing up, sparks collecting at the base. Even his hole throbbed, and he knew it was gonna be a good one.

He dared Steve to stop him. Incubus or not, there was no way Eddie was holding back now. He’d rather die than not see this through.

Eddie grit his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, thrust up into his fist, and there it was. “Aw, fu—”

Steve struck him across the face. Harder than the last time. Hard enough that Eddie’s face snapped to the side, cheek to pillow.

“—uck!” Eddie broke, dick spurting across his chest, spilling around his knuckles and the outside of his hand. His heart hammered and threatened to burst his ribcage open.

His eyes were unseeing when he finally opened them. Aftershocks pulsed through his body in gentle, shiny waves.

“Feel better?” Steve asked.

“Nghh.”

“Kind of a waste to jerk yourself off when you could do that anytime. I would’ve let you come in my mouth,” Steve mused, dragging his fingers along Eddie’s chest. “But I won’t complain. I can still taste.”

He popped two fingers in his mouth and sucked Eddie’s come off them before repeating the process, this time feeding it to Eddie.

Eddie didn’t want to let Steve’s fingers go when he tried to pull them from his mouth. He wrapped his lips around Steve tighter and then added teeth while he swirled his tongue around. No come even left, just his own spit and Steve’s skin.

“A biter, huh?” Steve smiled at him, the boyish smile Eddie had rarely seen. It was genuine, different than his sneer. “Me too.”

Prove it.

“I’m going to finish what I started now, and you’ll behave. Won’t you, Eddie?”

Eddie didn’t know exactly what was going to be finished until Steve retreated back between his legs, this time not wrapping that tongue around his dick, but licking further down. Past his balls and taint to his ass.

Spreading his legs was automatic, and Steve helped the rest of it along by gripping the backs of his thighs and pushing.

It felt too good for Eddie to be shy about it.

Steve circled and swirled his tongue around the inside of him, stretching and wetting. All the while, moaning, like the taste of Eddie was turning him on, and the idea of turning Steve on turned Eddie on, and it was a neverending cycle of call and response. Steve groaning and digging his fingers into Eddie’s flesh, fingers that sometimes became claws like he was phasing in and out between monster and human.

Eddie’s skin stung and burned from all the punctures, but it was only good pain. He lost enough reservation to thread his fingers through Steve’s hair. As silky as he’d imagined it, when Steve didn’t protest, Eddie tugged even harder. Jamming and grinding his ass against Steve’s mouth.

Greedy slut Steve spoke into his mind. But he didn’t stop or raise his eyes to give Eddie a hard expression as if he considered it a bad thing. He drove his tongue deeper, like he loved how needy Eddie was. Every stroke Steve made brushed against the part of Eddie that he could only reach sometimes and only for long enough to get himself worked up… never enough to finish the job. He didn’t have to worry about his arm cramping up with Steve, though. He methodically pushed Eddie closer to the edge, speeding up and increasing pressure in increments until Eddie was begging for him never to stop.

Eddie came a second time, clutching Steve’s hair like reins.

Steve swiped his fingers through the mess on Eddie’s chest, gathering the come on his fingers again. Eddie instinctively opened his mouth, so Steve could feed it to him again.

“Not this time, angel,” Steve said. “This is for your other hole.”

Eddie whined out of embarrassment, how easy it was for Steve to be so vulgar. It was natural for Eddie to be just as filthy, but not easy. Especially when it came to dirty talk… He wasn’t too shy to have Steve’s mouth on his ass, but hearing Steve talk about his hole out loud was different.

Steve pressed a finger inside of him, wet and warm, where he was already both of those things.

“I did a good job. You’re nice and open for me,” Steve said. “Feel?” He wiggled his finger around, back and forth, up and down. There was no resistance at all, only the sensation of wet dripping out of him, and the sound of squelching as Steve added a second finger and started finger fucking him with his own come.

Eddie threw his head back against the pillow. “Aw fuck, Steve.” He didn’t think he could take a third orgasm but if Steve kept at it, he wasn’t going to have any choice.

“You’ll take what I give and be grateful.”

“Y-yeah.” Eddie nodded shakily. He was grateful, and he did want to take what Steve gave, that was true.

“Or should I stop?” Steve stilled his fingers. “You want me to stop?”

“No, no, no. Please. Keep going.”

“Really, Eddie? Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”

Eddie ground down on Steve’s fingers harder than he had on his tongue. He reached for Steve’s shoulders to hold on to. “I’m sure. Please. Please keep going.”

Steve still didn’t move. “This is what you’ve been dreaming of… and you’re so close. After I get you to come on my fingers, you’ll get to come on my cock too. But that doesn’t seem to interest you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s all I want,” Eddie insisted.

“What is?”

“You,” Eddie said. “Want you, Steve. Want you to fuck me. I’ll take everything. I promise. Do whatever you want. Okay? Please.”

“Hmm.” Steve rumbled it out in his throat. His eyes flashed, and he smiled at Eddie again. This time not boyish or sweet but devilish. All of his teeth were sharp like canines, but his expression was sharper. More intent than he’d looked when Eddie first opened the door. Not earnest like he’d been when he helped him with Jason in the parking lot. Which still confused him when he thought about it because why would—

“Ohhh fuck.” Eddie grit his teeth so hard he was afraid they’d break out of his gums. Steve pumped his fingers inside of him, deep. Rough jerks that felt so smooth with how slick Steve made him with his tongue. “Yesss,” he hissed. How Steve could ever think he wasn’t interested, he didn’t know. And how he had ever denied to himself how interested he was, he didn’t know, either.

All the ways Steve had showed up in his fantasies over the years. Whether he was the one doing the fucking, or whether he let Eddie fuck him. Sometimes he was in his basketball uniform, other times it was this one stupid pink shirt he’d worn when he was in junior year. Then there was his baseball uniform. The groupie fantasy that didn’t just end with Steve showing up to watch his show and maybe get an autograph but continued on with Steve paying him a visit backstage, getting on his knees and grovelling for a chance to spend the night with him. Just one night, Eddie. Please. I wish I would’ve realized how special you were in school. I’m sorry. Eddie would act like it was a hardship, but he’d give in and finally know what it was like to bed the famous King Steve.

All of this time he’d been a demon. All of this time he’d been attainable and Eddie had no idea. Still seemed too good to be true, that he should get what he want and the payment for receiving it was… receiving it.

“I wanted you too, Eddie,” Steve said. “Always had my eyes on you.”

Really? That was… that was just too good. “Please,” Eddie groaned. “Tell me.”

“Such a good boy, asking for what you want.”

“Mhmm,” Eddie agreed. He’d be anything Steve wanted him to be.

“I’d go to your show,” Steve began. “I’d fight for front row, so I could be the closest of anyone.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grunted. “What—shit. What would you wear?”

“A Corroded Coffin t-shirt, and your favourite pair of my jeans. The lightwash, yeah? They’re tightest.”

Steve Harrington in a band t-shirt. His band. That and the letterman jacket, oh fuck yeah.

“You like that,” Steve said. He slowed his fingers only to speed them up again, repeating the motion to keep Eddie on a string, unsure when the next zing would hit him. It was all at Steve’s pace. “You like that I’m a fan. Your fan.”

Eddie keened.

“Answer me.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie managed. “Love it.”

“Bet you wanna give me an autograph.”

“Yeah. ”

“Where would you put it?”

“Dunno.”

“Come on, baby. Think. You want it to be our little secret? Sign my ass so only you know it’s there. Or do you want it where everyone can see? Mark me up so they all know I’m yours.”

“Want everyone to know.”

“What if I wanted to mark you up too? Make you mine.”

“Told you. Do whatever, anything. Want it all. Want you,” he babbled.

“You and I are just alike in that regard, angel,” Steve soothed. He used the hand that wasn’t inside Eddie’s ass to stroke Eddie’s dick. Swollen, leaking, and so sensitive. He was ready to come at any moment.

Eddie cried out, thrusting up into Steve’s hand. His grip was just between loose and tight, and Eddie was chasing the friction he needed to get him all the way there. Just one more touch, just one more.

“Come on,” Steve encouraged. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel.”

The permission to come was enough to get him there. Equal desire to please himself and please Steve. Like he just had to do what he said when he said it. He craved obedience.

“Beautiful. Just gorgeous,” Steve said, withdrawing his fingers all at once and leaving Eddie dreadfully empty.

“Holy shit ,” Eddie grunted. He relaxed his toes that had been flexed and curled when Steve wrung the third orgasm out of him. He shuddered in anticipation of the fourth, the one Steve promised to give him when he fucked him for real. It was probably going to be dry, maybe even painful since his dick wasn’t magic and he was pretty much at his limit, but an orgasm was an orgasm, and one given to him by Steve Harrington was a gift. He would be grateful for anything and everything.

Steve nodded at him. “Clever boy.”

It should’ve felt silly to preen over the praise coming out of his mouth. Until he’d been clued in to Steve’s secret, Eddie thought he was two years older. And why would he ever want someone younger calling him boy? And why would he ever want someone he regularly called an idiot calling him clever? Should’ve felt condescending.

But Steve was a demon, centuries old and a veritable monster, even if he had the body of a teenage dream, and Eddie, if nothing else, respected him. And so that assessment, clever boy, didn’t make him roll his eyes or crack wise like he might’ve if this was just Steve. Regular Steve. Good ol’ pretty boy Steve who wore khakis and used way too much gel and tucked in his shirt when he was a freshman. That Steve with his big dumb mouth that Eddie regularly wanted filled so it would stop making noise…

Kind of sad that Regular Steve was basically a figment of his imagination, a façade. What would that sex have been like? Not that it was ever on the table, even though it technically kind of was? Probably similar. Minus the tongue. And the claws, and the—no. His dick being huge was probably a consistency in all forms.

“Does your mind ever rest?”

“Huh?” Eddie blinked.

“Always thinking.”

“I’m thinking about you. Isn’t that good?”

“You’re not, though.”

“Not what?” Eddie retraced the steps of the conversation, trying to reverse his confusion, but he didn’t understand. “I’m not good?”

“You’re not thinking about me.”

“I am. I promise. You know I was,” Eddie said in a rush. How could Steve deny that? “You—”

“Settle down,” Steve interrupted. He bent over Eddie and sealed their mouths together. Steve’s tongue reached back across his molars and to his tonsils. He lurched in a full-body gag reflex, but Steve didn’t relent, continued claiming his mouth. After Eddie relaxed into Steve’s hold, his reflexive jerks became intentional. He snapped his hips up against Steve’s, but it got him nowhere. Steve had him pinned like prey.

All at once, the denim Eddie was grinding uselessly against became skin. Hot, hard flesh. And Eddie wished he could see. Feeling wasn’t enough. He wanted to look down between him and Steve and see their cocks side by side, compare. He wanted to know the exact shade of Steve. He pictured pink to go with his bubblegum lips, but it could’ve been red or purple, or literally any other colour since he wasn’t human. Or if there really were two, maybe each of them was different. Or was it fucking ridged? Scaled? More like a knot?

The instant Eddie considered the possibilities, Steve retreated. Eddie was almost scared to look in case the reality was dull in comparison to the fantasy. But he looked, made himself take the plunge, and it was better.

Steve held the base of his cock between his thumb and fingers to showcase himself. A pearlescent bead of precome blurted out of his tip and became a string that dripped onto Eddie’s thigh. He salivated like a goddamn dog, wanted it in his mouth so bad. But he also wanted it in his ass too. He wished there was enough magic to make both happen at the same time.

Steve decided for him and straddled his chest. “Open up, angel.”

Eddie was glad that Steve had tongue fucked the gag reflex right out of him, because next thing he knew, Steve’s balls were resting on his chin. His cock deep in his throat, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he fought the lack of oxygen.

He moaned around Steve and Steve moaned right back at him. “Fucking perfect, my pretty, perfect little virgin whore. Eddie. You take me so well.”

Eddie’s vision went spotty at the edges, his head dizzy and dark. Steve took pity on him and pulled out to allow him air. He gasped and sputtered, swallowing down a cough so he wouldn’t disappoint Steve and make him take his compliment back. He wasn’t taking anything well at all if he was hacking up a lung. So not sexy.

Steve slid a hand behind his head, pinky and ring on his neck, middle and index at the base of his skull, thumb at his jaw. Opposite hand laid sideways across his forehead. A deceptively gentle gesture, like he was taking Eddie’s temperature, caring for him when he was sick. He both supported Eddie’s head and tipped it forward while he guided his cock back in. At this angle, his dick was concentrated at the top of Eddie’s mouth and throat, and it allowed a miniscule amount of air to slip through the space underneath, between Eddie’s tongue and the bottom of Steve’s shaft.

“See? I care.” Steve grinned at him as he gave a shallow thrust, his head nudged a spot at the back of his mouth he didn’t know existed, some crevice behind his uvula. He imagined it was almost to the back of his skull, it felt so deep and internal and big. It fucked with his hearing, ears echoing the guttural, slick sound of Steve fucking his face. It made him hard—again. Rather, it kept him hard. He hadn’t flagged since Steve slapped him the first time.

Eddie cried openly, heightened emotions having no other way to channel out of him. The complicated and conflicting emotions: wanting Steve to stop, wanting him to go harder, both craving his come and fearing it—was it like his? White and warm? Would it hurt? Would it feel so good that he would never be the same and nothing would ever compare? Letting Steve, letting a demon use him and ruin him this way. Succumbing to the temptation and the greed and his filthy desires. He was disgusting, like Steve said, but also didn’t care. All of Steve’s attention was on him, whether he was calling him a whore or a good, clever boy. Felt so good to want and be wanted in return. To be adored, in any context.

The tears tracked down his temples, to his hairline and across the tips of his ears. Made his hair damp and uncomfortable, made his mouth even wetter for Steve because his spit was all pooled at the seal of his throat, made it impossible to breathe.

“Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” Steve pulled out to let Eddie breathe again, and now there was nothing keeping his cries quiet. “Nothing like it,” Steve continued. “Making pretty boys like you cry. And not because I’m hurting you and you hate it, but because I hurt you and you love it. You love it so much you don’t even know what to do with yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie laid there, heaving for a moment while he waited for Steve to make his next move. Steve was right. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to be told, wanted to be handled, wanted to stop thinking and not because Steve forced him to with his tricks but because Steve distracted him with his body, because Steve was doing all the thinking for them.

Steve pet his hair, wiped the tears away from both eyes. “Easy, baby. You’re okay.” His hands trailed further down Eddie’s body to massage at his flanks, and he kneed his way backward until he was between Eddie’s legs again. “I wouldn’t give you more than you could take. You can trust me.”

Eddie didn’t think that was exactly true, but it felt better to go with it than to deny. He wanted to trust Steve, and he wanted all of this to be good even if it was hard and too much and scary and new.

He calmed down more and more under Steve’s touch, his thumbs were tracing along his hip bones. Gentle circles and soft fingertips. Eddie kept waiting to see the claws again, started to think maybe he imagined them. He pictured Steve spinning a basketball on one of those pointy nails. The thought made him smile. His smile spread when he pictured the hands wrapped around a baseball bat or puncturing the glove.

“There, see?” Steve said. “All better.”

Eddie hummed. “Guess I needed to think about you and a different kind of balls for a minute.”

Steve eyed him, unimpressed at first before his lips quirked up. “Just for a minute,” Steve agreed. “Now we’re doing what I want. Remember what I said. Mentally and physically.”

“I’m here,” Eddie assured.

“And you want this.” Steve didn’t ask it like a question.

Eddie nodded, no hesitation.

“You trust me.” Steve continued rubbing those soothing circles into his hips.

“Y-yeah. Yeah totally.”

“You want me.”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Eddie said.

“Good.” Steve ran a hand over his hair, and it gave Eddie the best view of his bicep and his pec flexing. Even his fucking armpit was sexy. He wanted this cocky, self-absorbed, hair-sprayed bastard ever since he first saw him.

“And you,” Eddie began. “You still uh, this is good for you?”

“I want you, Eddie,” Steve said. “I want you more than you could imagine, and I want you to let me have you.”

“You can. I will. Have me. Whatever,” Eddie babbled. “Go for it.”

Steve nudged at his hole with the thick bluntness of his cock without another word, and then it was real.

“Holy shit,” Eddie squeaked. He was technically like, half a virgin at this point, and now Steve was going for the other half, and why was he so goddamn nervous like Steve hadn’t just been obliterating his throat with his cock two seconds ago?

Steve pushed past Eddie’s rim, and they both groaned in unison. Eddie wasn’t sure whose voice was whose, and so pushed more of a whine out of his throat, so he could distinguish them. Steve’s groan turned into a growl, and his aura seemed to flicker. His eyes and the overhead light flickered with it. He sort of blurred, his eyes glowing crimson, then glitching back to hazel, then black and crimson again. The fingers pressed into Eddie’s flesh went sharp then soft and back to sharp. Wings erupted behind him then reduced to shadow and disappeared.

Mine, mine, mine. Steve was silent outwardly but chanting loudly within Eddie’s mind. Steve was in the same state of shock he was. Eddie breathed to control his crying, and Steve breathed to keep his body from phasing. While connected this way, Eddie found it easy to understand Steve, to sense him and feel him and read him. He realized the telepathy worked both ways, and it was just a matter of Steve controlling what he let out as he took Eddie’s thoughts in.

Eddie held on to Steve’s shoulders, felt the rippling of his muscles, the vibration of energy as he tried to restrain his full form. Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of Steve’s cock growing and shrinking in length and girth. Pain relief pain relief pain relief with every throb.

“Plea-please.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “S too much, Steve. I can’t.”

“Give me a minute, angel.”

It was debilitating to hear Steve slur his words, as affected as he was. It made Eddie want to obey, to keep going and bear down through the burn. Steve wanted this, wanted him so bad he couldn’t even contain himself. Eddie could do this. He could give Steve everything he wanted, be everything he needed. He could give himself to Steve. Make him happy. Please him.

Steve huffed out a laugh against Eddie’s lips. “You’re so pure, aren’t you, Eddie? So easy. You love to be loved. That’s all you want.”

The callout embarrassed him. He knew it was true, had thought it himself, but it was different to hear Steve say it so plainly. Underneath all the kinks and fantasies and the lust, beyond the dream of fame and wealth, he was just a simple boy. He wanted Steve Harrington to love him.

Steve touched their foreheads together, and he breathed deep. Over and over again until his trembling body stilled. Eddie unconsciously matched the rhythm of his breaths to try and soothe himself.

Steve settled back down to his baseline, and still, he was unfathomably big within Eddie. He’d expected it, had felt the stretch of his lips and the burn of his jaw when he tried to accommodate Steve in his mouth. But this was different. As wet and open as Steve made him with his tongue, he was still tight, and it was still a lot. He felt speared and split, and the tears that had only just subsided returned. A concoction of pain, overwhelm, and delight, this time.

Everything intensified when Steve actually started to move. He scrabbled to grip onto Steve. He locked his ankles around Steve’s waist, a lame attempt to keep from being put through the wall at the head of the bed. It didn’t make much of a difference. Steve was strong enough to break out of his hold and thrust deep, pulling out until just his tip was inside then pushing back in all the way. Eddie didn’t go through the wall, but the force of the thrust rocked him. A slap-thump of Steve’s hips connecting with his ass cheeks, followed up with the warm weight of his balls. He couldn’t keep his legs together around Steve anymore, didn’t have the strength. His hands slipped, his stubby nails digging into perfect, tan skin wherever he could reach. Steve’s shoulders, biceps, then back.

Steve fucked him to the point where all he could do was moan and grunt. Every word came out garbled and broken since he was being jostled so roughly. “Ah-oh-ugh. Fuck.” Sounded like a goddamned monkey, but he didn’t care. If Steve didn’t like it, he could slow down. And that clearly wasn’t going to happen. Through this strange, new connection, Eddie felt what Steve felt. It was like being fucked twice over. He felt every stroke of his prostate, felt his balls drawing up and his spent dick dribbling out whatever it had left to give. And he felt his own tightness around Steve’s cock as if it were his own and he was fucking himself. It was double ecstasy and he didn’t know which side of the coin offered more pleasure.

It was as good as coming when Steve’s wings finally spread. Their wings. Glossy scales like sequins in thick, full layers across them. The release of his tail and claws, unsheathed, sent hot chills down Eddie’s spine. The contradictory pleasure-pain of Steve’s cock becoming huge, and staying huge inside him. The tightness of his hole like a vice around the head of his cock which was amazing but also startlingly agonizing. Eddie stuck his tongue between his teeth to keep them from knocking together from the thrusts and to keep himself from screaming.

Steve moaned, his voice deep and rich. The walls of Eddie’s room rumbled, and some trinket slid off his crowded dresser and smashed on the floor.

Steve’s eyes blazed an impossible shade, black where they should’ve been white and red at the centre where they should’ve been black, all hazel evaporated. His wings spanned double the width of his bed, and even horizontal, Eddie knew he was now taller. The tail was thick, and shocking to witness snaking up from behind Steve’s body. Shocking even more when it wrapped around his neck.

Steve’s hands engulfed his wrists easily, pinned each of them to the mattress. His claws practically had enough length left to wrap around a second time. Eddie kicked out his legs, feet catching on the mattress for leverage. The wings took care of that. Steve retracted them and curled them around Eddie’s calves, the scales velvet against his skin. He was well and truly pinned now. Pinned and spread like a taxidermied butterfly.

Steve’s hips slammed into him again, and his grip around Eddie everywhere tightened. The hold was consuming but not threatening. Eddie knew Steve’s intentions, and it wasn’t to intimidate but to secure. Steve was ecstatic to have him so close and only wanted him closer, and Eddie thought if Steve wanted, he’d let him eat him alive.

“So good, Eddie. See what you do to me?”

Eddie whined back at him, closing his eyes to avoid the overwhelm of Steve’s new appearance. It was magnificent and horrifying all at once. A head rush that made him have to choose between seeing and feeling so he wouldn’t pass out.

But closing his eyes didn’t offer total escape. Steve invaded his mind, not with his own face, but with a reflection of Eddie. He showed Eddie how he looked beneath him, hair fanned across his pillow, dried and fresh tear tracks spreading from his eyes and across his cheeks like webs, creamy white skin contrasting with the dark pink of his swollen lips. Through Steve’s appreciative lens and without the muddying bias of his own self-hatred, he could see his beauty.

“Beautiful just like an angel,” Steve hummed into his ear. Eddie shivered from the proximity of Steve’s smooth voice. “I want to ruin you like one.”

Eddie wanted that too, more than anything. It hurt how much he craved his own destruction, hurt how much he wanted to belong to Steve and Steve to belong to him.

“Please,” Eddie rasped. “Do it.”

Steve freed his neck from his tail, and tugged at his wrists to pull him up from the bed and into his lap. His wings swooped around to cradle Eddie from behind. Steve settled his hands around his waist thumb to thumb across his belly button, fingers interlaced at his spine. He lifted Eddie up and down on his cock like his weight was nothing, impaling him over and over in one steady, fluid motion before he thrust up from the bed, his hips stuttering before stopping altogether.

Eddie came when Steve did, or Steve came when he did. He wasn’t even sure because everything hit him all at once. His own orgasm, tearing him up from the inside out. Deep and consuming, his dick pulsating in time with his hole, and not just a quick zap and release like his usual orgasms. It was more thunder than lightning, ripping and racing through his bloodstream and his muscles and fucking up his system, gave him goosebumps on his scalp and put metal on his tongue. Then the sensation of Steve’s orgasm, liquid heat within him, and the flipside was feeling his own hole clench around Steve’s cock.

He fell forward against Steve’s chest and tried to ride the wave, but it only pulled him under. A calm, silent drowning apart from the buzzing in his ears. He went boneless, limp in Steve’s grasp. Exhausted and utterly spent.

You will be rewarded for your submission, Eddie. You’ll have Steve, and he will have you.

The last thing he registered before it all went black was Steve telling him to sleep now.

Eddie didn’t wake slowly but instantaneously. Like his brain and body switched on we’re awake now! Rise!

He flew up, looked side to side in search of Steve even though he already knew he’d be gone. There wasn’t a moment where he even considered it might’ve been a dream. He knew it, no question. Knew it like he knew his name was Eddie. And if there had been the smallest doubt, his full-body ache would’ve answered that question.

He had no other way to describe the feeling besides thoroughly fucked. He felt Steve everywhere, all over, inside and out. In aching patches that he knew were bruises even where he couldn’t see, in the scratches and punctures on his thighs and around his wrists and waist, in his raw throat, in the wet stickiness leaking out of him, and the burning—

Holy fuck what was that burning?

It was insistent, prickly goddamn fire on his forearm right under the bats. Two semi-circles of dots that made an oval. A bite. One that must’ve happened after he’d passed out.

Was he venomous or some shit? Was it poison burning him? The claw marks stung but they didn’t burn like this. It was different. Was like acid in his veins, and somehow he knew he had to see Steve. Eddie craved his presence, needed him near. Wanted to see him and feel him again.

He tried to make himself look half-decent before he booked it to school, but it was a lost cause if he ever saw one. It didn’t matter, though. Because he was going to see Steve, and that would make it all better. Whatever this was. He could stop the burning. Steve could stop it.

Eddie was aware of what it looked like to be strung out, and that was how he appeared as he waited for Steve in the parking lot. He was one of the first to arrive which never happened, and he was pissed to have something in common with Steve because the lot steadily filled as it ticked closer to the first bell, and that beemer was nowhere to be found.

Eddie was doing laps around his van, had burned through the rest of his smokes, was itchy. And the fire never dulled. If Steve didn’t show in like, the next two seconds, Eddie would have no choice but to track him down at his house. Everyone knew where Steve Harrington lived. The entire town marvelled at his mansion. Eddie pictured a moat and sky-high iron fence surrounding the property now, a dark cloud of smoke looming above, tortured screams coming from within… Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to go to the lair, but what choice did he have if—

“Hey. I need to talk to you.” Steve held onto his arm just above the elbow and guided him closer to the van.

“I was gonna say the same thing,” Eddie hissed. He was simultaneously relieved and irritated to see Steve. Mostly irritated because his head must’ve been up his ass to have missed him when he was supposed to be watching for him. Steve had probably materialized behind him or some shit just to mess with him. “What is this, man?” He shoved his sleeve up. “You bit me, and it burns. ”

Steve journeyed through the entire spectrum of emotion before Eddie’s eyes. Confusion mainlined the event.

“Answer me,” Eddie demanded, voice desperate even to his own ears. “Do I like, have to do something else? I don’t understand.”

“Are you messing with me? Is this a test?” Steve searched Eddie’s eyes then narrowed his own.

“What? No. How could I? You’re the demon… you’re the one who makes the rules.”

“I’m not a demon,” Steve whispered. He looked around to assure they weren’t overheard. It was just the two of them.

“Yeah well you went to pretty great lengths yesterday to prove that you are, and I believe you now, so…” Eddie threw his hands up. “And you know, I don’t really get what this game is. Why can’t you just answer my questions? I held up my end of the bargain, right? So it’s your turn now. Or shit, don’t even give me anything else. Just leave me alone and stop fucking with my head. Okay? Please?”

“Are you serious?”

The burning within Eddie now had nothing to do with any bite. It was pure rage. Could this asshole be any more evasive?

“You’re not a demon,” Steve continued. “You think I’m the demon.”

“That’s just reality,” Eddie said. “Has nothing to do with what I think.”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned. He wiped his hands over his face and pulled. “This is so fucked up.”

Eddie tracked the movement, he noticed he wasn’t the only one looking frazzled. Steve’s hair was in complete disarray. And not in the artfully messy way. It was sex-hair meets rat’s-nest. His cheek was patterned with flecks of violet that were suspiciously congruent with a handprint. His pink necklace wasn’t jewellery, and it matched Eddie’s own.

He looked over Steve’s shoulder and saw his car parked diagonally in the space, his driver door still ajar.

And his shirt wasn’t tucked in, which was insane. He might as well have been naked.

Embarrassment settled in Eddie’s gut next to the irritation. The first face-to-face confrontation with Steve after they’d had sex. Holy shit. And Steve was pulling the sleeve of his letterman jacket up, so he thought he might’ve been on track to showing some more skin, which Eddie wouldn’t complain about.

Steve revealed the imprint of teeth on his forearm, same place as Eddie’s.

Eddie reached out for the arm without thinking. He yanked it forward to hold beside his own arm, so he could compare them. When he did, the bite on his own arm electrified him, roaring up into a blaze before simmering down and disappearing completely. The skin itself flashed bright blue in time with Steve’s, and the remaining mark became black like the ink of his other tattoos.

“Holy shit.”

“What the hell?” Steve said, withdrawing from Eddie. “What’d you do?”

“What did I do?” Eddie demanded. “You! I thought you said all we had to do was fuck, then you’d give me whatever I wanted. Is this bite like, the contract written in blood or some shit? Am I linked to you forever now?”

Steve’s face bloomed into a blush, and he scratched at the back of his neck while acquainting his eyes with the ground.

Then it clicked.

Steve was clearly just as confused as he was. He was bashful. Something the demon hadn’t even approximated. Smug, condescending, and strong were his winning traits. The only weakness he’d shown was how affected he became when he got inside Eddie. And weakness wasn’t even the right word since all it entailed was him being unable to contain his true form. Eddie had no power there as pinned as he was, every one of Steve’s appendages at play to prove it, to ensure it.

Steve’s but not Steve’s. 

The demon could keep its wings, claws, tongue, tail, and teeth sheathed long enough to appear human, so that meant it could shapeshift. And if it could shapeshift, it could easily make itself look like Steve Harrington. The object of Eddie’s desires. Someone whose appearance would suck him in and trick him into trusting the creature and the deal.

And now that he could think without getting distracted by sex or having his thoughts controlled, he could focus long enough to piece everything together.

He’d been foggy during, but now, in the after, things were clearer. He could be objective. He could remember all the trails of thought he’d been cut off from following.

His disappointment that Steve wasn’t technically an option because only the idea of him existed which led to his fond memory of preppy, freshman Steve. When he was growing into himself and wasn’t quite yet king. The boyish smile that Eddie thought looked right on the demon’s face in the moment, the intoxicating woodsmoke and sex scent that Eddie thought smelled right on the demon’s body… now in the presence of the real thing, he could see the softness and the uncertainty in Steve’s expression, smell the sweetness. Like strawberries. Even his energy was lighter, not overwhelming to the point of prickling at his skin and raising his hair. Or to the point of making him close his eyes. Who knew what else he’d missed.

You’re not thinking of me.

You’re not thinking of me.

Because why would the demon wait so long to overpower him if he’d really been Steve all this time.

Why would he bother making Steve grow up over his four years of Hawkins High when he could’ve been king from day one?

Why go to high school in the first place?

He’d tried to ask and been shot down, evaded, outplayed.

“You’re Steve,” he muttered to himself. Then he said it again louder to Steve who was staring at him, not calculating but concerned. His hands were on his hips. “You’re just Steve.”

“Yeah. And you’re just Eddie.” 

“He fucking tricked me, man. Jesus Christ. I’m so fucking stupid. This is so stupid. I can’t believe this.” Eddie mimicked Steve’s earlier crisis and dragged his hands over his face while he turned himself in a little circle. “I should’ve known. I should’ve—” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

The bite scar panged when Steve made contact. A comforting throb deep in his skin.

“You’re not stupid, Eddie,” Steve continued. “He tricked me too. He was good. I mean, he looked just like you. Like, just like you. It was crazy.”

Eddie stilled. This was his fault.

Had he summoned the demon here and unleashed him on Hawkins? On Steve? Just because Eddie was selfish and greedy. Not a clever boy after all. The hole he was digging for himself grew deeper. He couldn’t wait to die in it.

Or was this all part of it? Was Steve truly a demon but had granted Eddie’s wish by creating the version of Steve that lived in his mind?

You will be rewarded for your submission, Eddie. You’ll have Steve, and he will have you.

Was the demon strong enough to invent a whole person? He didn’t think so. Seemed more likely the real version of Steve had always existed, and the demon used Steve’s appearance against him. He’s plucked the fantasy from Eddie’s mind and ran with it. 

“What happened?” Eddie was scared to know, but he needed to.

“Well.” Steve hesitated. “Same thing that happened to you I guess?”

“Everything, Steve,” Eddie pressed. “Tell me everything about yesterday from the beginning.”

Steve blushed deeper. “Okay… So, classes all day. Lunch. Just your average day, you know. Then practice. Then I saw you in the parking lot. You remember that. Um, then you left, and I went back to my car. Sat for a while. Just thinking and shit. Then I saw some of your papers blowing across the lot. At least I thought they were yours. I don’t know. I thought about letting them go, but I guess I’m an idiot, so I went out and grabbed what I could. Thought about bringing them to you, then thought that was stupid. So I just went home.”

Ugh. He was so nice. And beautiful. Although the bruises on him made Eddie’s heart ache because they were his fault. He hoped maybe Steve got some enjoyment out of it, at least.

“Not stupid,” Eddie offered. Since Steve had shown him the same courtesy. “I was missing that stuff. Would’ve been okay if you brought it.”

“Yeah?” Boyish smile.

He had been so wrong. The demon was good at being Steve, but now that he was in the presence of the real thing, the performance had wax-figure written all over it. Real, normal just Steve was much better than the demon knock-off. Eddie shrugged. Couldn’t appear too eager. 

Steve sobered. “Anyways, I was looking through them, your lyrics and everything, when I got home. Then he knocked on the door. You— he said you wanted my help after all. So I let you in, and—”

“Hold on,” Eddie said. “You were reading the lyrics?”

“Yeah, well I tried to,” Steve said. “They were in Latin, I’m pretty sure, and I can barely speak English so.”

“Shit.” Conciliatory relief. He hadn’t sicced the demon on Steve because of his delusions. He’d only given Steve the means to do so himself. It had happened the same way. He’d been singing the summoning, thinking about Steve, and then there he was at his door, ready to pounce. Oh. “And you were thinking about me?”

Steve ducked his head again. “Yeah.”

“What about?” God he was so pathetic. Needy. Needy. Needy. Fishing for compliments when they were in a serious situation here.

Steve opened his mouth to answer but closed it. Oh good. He was smirking now. And Eddie must’ve been a freak because that smirk tingled his stomach. It wasn’t cold or cruel but knowing. “Why? Is that how he does it? Was that like, a spell or something, and you have to concentrate on what you want to get him to show up?”

“That’s my best guess,” Eddie said, trying to seem oblivious.

“So then what… you did that too and that’s how you know?” Steve asked.

“Sort of. Maybe.”

“What exactly were you thinking about me?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“The real question is why you were so eager to believe I was a demon when I showed up at your house,” Eddie deflected. “How about you answer that one, big shot.”

There, that wiped the cockiness right off his face. “Come on, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“You literally walk around with a devil on your shirt. Your shirt that says Hellfire,” Steve said. “Plus you obviously know how to write spells.”

“A devil on my shirt? That’s a little on the nose, don’t cha think?”

“Could be like a hiding in plain sight thing, I don’t know, man. He made a good case. What was I supposed to think?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Well what about you?” Steve gestured to him with a flick of his wrist. “You thought I was a demon. How do you explain that? And why don’t you explain why you were thinking about me while you’re at it.”

“Oh I bet you’d love to know. Feed that ego.”

Steve crossed his arms and waited instead of retorting. Like a teacher trying to discipline the class when they wouldn’t shut up.

“Fine,” Eddie sighed. “You’ve always been perfect. Okay? Good at everything. Good looking. Rich. Too good to be true. Whatever. Everyone’s always fawning over you. And you, you know, get around a lot or whatever. Which is fine. I’m just saying. Goes with an incubus’ M.O.”

“So it’s not because you think I’m evil.”

“You are evil for making me embarrass myself like this,” Eddie said. “But in general, you’re not so bad.”

“That’s like, the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It’s one of the only things I’ve ever said to you. We haven’t talked much, you know.”

“Even though we’ve technically had sex now,” Steve said.

“Technically.”

“That’s why I’m confused,” Steve said. “Why would you let me do anything. Why would you want that? You’ve always hated me.”

“Same question.”

“I don’t hate you, Eddie.” Steve frowned.

“You don’t?”

Steve shrugged. “All I was thinking when I was looking at your stuff was that I wish I hadn’t waited so long to try to talk to you. I was thinking about how smart you are, and—”

“Newsflash I’m on my third round of senior year.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. School sucks. Dumb people don’t know how to write in different languages, and they can’t play guitar. That shit’s hard. And you’re always reading during study hall. Don’t think dumb people read either. I don’t.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say.

“Anyway. You’re freaky, obviously, but like, in a cool way. You’re interesting and different. And I was thinking I wish you’d let me try instead of just brushing me off. So no, I don’t hate you. If anything, you kind of scare me.”

“I scare you?”

“Uh, yeah, man. I never really liked a guy before, and I don’t—I didn’t know if you would, like, do that. With me. So yeah. Plus you get into fights all the time and just laugh in everyone’s face. You’re kind of batshit. In a cool way, though. Like I said.” Steve tugged at his hair. “Sorry.”

“No, um. That’s fine. Never thought Steve Harrington would be calling me cool. So that’s… exciting. And I sort of try to seem batshit crazy on purpose, so good to know it’s paying off. I guess.”

“Yeah…” His hopeful smile dimmed.

“I don’t hate you either,” Eddie blurted.

“Seriously?”

“I mean, obviously I don’t, otherwise none of yesterday would’ve happened. It’s the same thing, here. I’ve tried to hate you. I sort of thought I did. But you’re not so bad. Like I said. And I do, obviously, do the liking a guy thing. I never thought you would. Especially not with me. But yeah.”

“And you think I’m perfect and good looking.”

Ugh. It was difficult to play coy with Steve when he was beaming at him. Like the thought of Eddie liking him actually made him happy? “Yes. Okay?”

“So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie admitted. “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking I’m definitely not in the mood for school,” Steve said. He looked back at his poorly parked car. “Do you think maybe you’d wanna skip with me?”

“What and like, hang out?”

“Yeah. You hang out don’t you?”

“I’ve been known to… hang out. From time to time.”

“Cool, let’s go.”

Eddie followed Steve over to his car and got into the passenger side and tried not to freak out about how this seemed way more intimate and exposing than having sex with “Steve”. He said as much to Steve when he got in the car.

“No, it is different,” Steve said. “Holding hands is the scariest thing you can do with a girl. Or, you know. A guy. Anyone. I don’t know why, just is.”

Eddie just to be Eddie reached over the console to grab Steve’s hand. Better to get it over with now so he didn’t work himself up about it for no reason. He would show Steve that he was brave, like he already thought he was.

“See?” Steve smiled, lacing their fingers together. “You’re badass.”

“Well I guess you better get used to it. If we’re gonna be… hanging out now, or whatever.”

“I can get used to it,” Steve assured. “But it is kind of weird.”

“Oh.” Eddie ripped his hand away. “Look, we don’t have to—”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Steve reached over and took his hand back. “Not you. The situation. I feel like I should be feeling violated, or terrified, or something. Cause you know, apparently demons exist and that’s fucking wild. But I weirdly don’t?”

“No, same,” Eddie said, allowing himself to relax. “This should be terrifying, but it’s just not.”

“Right? I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“Me too,” Eddie admitted. “But I keep thinking what if this is a trick, or what if you only feel this way because I wished for it and this is part of my deal. Maybe it’s not real.”

“Even if that’s true, I wished for it too, even before yesterday. So it cancels out. It’s like, the demon was a matchmaker or something. He didn’t make us feel anything we didn’t before. He just helped us realize it.”

“I think you’re right,” Eddie agreed.

“You do?”

“It makes sense. With the bites, and the symmetry and shit. How everything lined up. I mean, we were probably reading the ritual at the same time. Both thinking about each other,” Eddie explained. “Which… speaking of. I should let you know that it was just supposed to be lyrics for a song. I would’ve never summoned a demon on purpose. I’m not actually a devil worshipper. In case you were wondering.”

“It’s cool,” Steve said. “It’s not like it was a super bad demon. He didn’t hurt us, or anything. He was just kind of mean. Not scary.”

“And yet you think I’m scary.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah. The way you were bitching at me even when you thought I was the demon? You got balls, dude.”

“More like I got a big mouth.”

“Yeah, well.”

Eddie blushed, wondering again what exactly Steve let “Eddie” do to him and with him.

“Anyway, damn,” Steve began. “If we would’ve known we didn’t have to waste our deals wishing for each other, then we could’ve asked for other shit instead.”

“You didn’t ask for anything else?” 

“I was honestly just happy to get in your pants.”

“Wow, so it’s like that.”

“Yeah,” Steve said easily. “I’m a simple guy.”

“Good to know.”

“What about you?” Steve said.

“I didn’t really ask for anything. I was more thinking about my dream life. Rich and famous. That kind of thing.”

“You don’t need him for that.”

“Maybe so. I don’t even know if it’ll happen anyways. We didn’t exactly talk about the finer details of the deal.”

“Ah, so it’s like that,” Steve teased. “No talking.”

“Yup.”

“And the not talking that you two did… Did you find it satisfying?”

“Even though I don’t have a frame of reference, I’d say he was good at his craft.”

“Same.”

“Wait. There’s no way you were a virgin.” All of Eddie’s blood drained from his face. “You didn’t sell your actual soul, did you?”

“I was virgin enough for what he wanted to do,” Steve revealed.

“Oh. Oh. Ho-ho-okay, then. Wow. Mental images in my head now. That’s great. Wow, so you actually let me… Wow.”

“You let me too,” Steve reminded him.

“Yeah, but that’s—I hope the bar isn’t set too high now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Aww you mean you don’t have wings? Shit, I guess it’s over before it began,” Steve teased. 

“Ha ha.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a tail.”

“I don’t have two cocks,” Eddie retorted.

“All good. Sounds better than it feels.”

Holy shit. What he would’ve given to be a fly on the wall and watch that show. Maybe he could call the demon back and ask for him to telepathically insert the memory in his brain… Or he could just get Steve to give him the play-by-play.

“I might miss the tongue, though,” Eddie managed after he swallowed his ridiculous thoughts down. “I’ll admit it.”

“That’s one thing you won’t have to miss.” Steve waggled his eyebrows. The dork even stuck his tongue out between his teeth and flicked it at Eddie to drive the image home.

“How charming.” Eddie bit down a smile.

“Hey, you wanted me. Now you got me.”

“Thank god,” Eddie deadpanned.

“And I got you,” Steve said.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” Steve said simply. “And I’m not mad at it.”

“Yeah, well. Back at ya, Steve.” Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, and Steve squeezed his in return.

“Is it cool if I kiss you?” Steve asked. “Since we technically haven’t before.”

“It’d be cool,” Eddie said. “Very cool, in fact.”

“Good.” Steve cupped his cheek and pressed their lips together, firm and gentle and sweet, and not at all like what the demon had made of their first kiss. And his head was buzzing with it. Just like holding hands, a chaste kiss felt more intimate than anything he’d done with “Steve” the night before. It was insistent and meaningful and the promise of something longlasting, and it had him melting into Steve’s leather seat like it was his mattress.

“Wow,” Eddie murmured when they broke apart. “That was…”

“I know, right?” Steve breathed. “Is it bad that I wanna do it again?”

“I’d be pissed if you didn’t.”

They made out for as long as they could get away with, in a public school parking lot as they were… And then they were driving. Eddie had no idea where Steve was taking them, or what was going to happen. He barely had a grasp on what had happened, to him, to Steve, to them, and between them. All he knew was that he had Steve by his side now, and that was good enough. It was more than enough. It was everything.