Chapter Text
“Steve…” From the haze of sleep, Steve hears his name and feels a weight pressing down on his chest. “Wake up, big boy.”
It’s the moniker that jolts him fully awake. Steve’s eyes snap open to the white ceiling of his bedroom, but he can’t move, not even to lift his head. He must’ve lost his pillow in the night, because his head is so flat against the mattress that all he can see is the ceiling and, if he strains his eyes, the head of the figure sitting on him.
Not that he needs to see to know who it is. He knew the second he heard that voice. It’s Eddie Munson in his lap with his thighs spread. He can’t see them, but he can feel them, skinny as ever and surprisingly soft.
With his nails combing through Steve’s chest hair, Eddie smiles down at him like this is all very funny. It’s not funny to Steve.
Mainly because Eddie Munson died last year after being dragged to the ground and chewed up by bats in the Upside Down. At Dustin’s insistence, they went back for his body on a crawl so his uncle could lay him to rest.
It was fucking awful. They found his lifeless corpse in a pool of dried blood not even a hundred feet from the gate. He’d never heard Dustin sob like that. The first thing Steve did was close Eddie’s eyes because he couldn’t stand to see them so dull and empty. He hadn’t realized how full of life they were ‘til it was snuffed out.
He wasn’t Eddie anymore. That was all he could think as he hauled Eddie’s limp body out of there. He wasn’t in there.
He certainly seems to be in there now, much as that shouldn’t be possible. Steve can’t look down far enough to see if his sides are still torn open, but from what he can see, it’s like he was never dead.
The big red horns sticking out of his curly hair are new. Not so different from the ones people used to draw on his missing posters. Something about that feels so cosmically unfair.
He’s paler too, and his lips, always red from being chewed up, are even more vivid now. They’re harder to look away from, and it was always kind of hard, because Eddie was always smiling at him in that way of his that was at once warm, teasing, and knowing.
Which was disarming, because what could Eddie Munson know? What the hell did he see? Steve had never thought about it before they sought him out. Eddie “The Freak” Munson was someone you made judgments about; it hadn’t previously occurred to Steve that that might go both ways.
He found out soon enough, though, that Eddie had a lot on his mind and wasn’t shy about sharing. That doesn’t seem to have changed either.
“Cat got your tongue?” he taunts, grinning down at Steve. Not being able to throw something back or shrug Eddie off is killing Steve right off the bat. All he can do is blink, so he does so, relentlessly. Whether out of pity or boredom, Eddie gives in after a few moments.
“Oh, alright, I guess I can let you talk. Better not scream. If you manage to call for help, I’ll leave but they’re just gonna send someone else in my place. Someone who won’t be so nice.”
Steve isn’t sure Eddie is being nice, or that any of this is even real. But the nails running through his chest hair feel real. The weight of legs and ass on Steve’s thighs feels real.
With a snap, Steve’s voice is back. He clears his throat, then collects himself. He’ll just play it cool.
“Funny seeing you here, Eddie.”
“Is it? Is it funny?” He lets out one of his manic laughs, that rich cackle paired with a wicked glint in his eye. “Steve Harrington… you sure had a lot to say about me this week, man!”
“You heard that?” Steve scoffs. It’s hard to be dismissive when the only places he can put his eyes are Eddie’s face or the ceiling, though. Straining harder, he instead settles his sight on what look like the tips of blood red wings peeking out from behind his shoulders. He tries telling himself this isn’t Eddie, but his mouth isn’t getting the memo. “So, what, you just follow Dustin around or something?”
“Not especially. What’d you expect? My ears were burning. Not so tough after all, though, are ya? Taking it all back… lying here all limp under me.”
He shoots Steve an impish grin, and Steve scowls, on the inside at least. He’s not limp; he’s actually uncomfortably stiff in the pants. Obviously he can’t fucking move, so hopefully that’s all Eddie means. Steve chooses to operate on that assumption; he can’t acknowledge that he’s hard around this vision of his dead friend.
“I wasn’t wrong about it being stupid,” he says. “And selfish. You know how fucked up Dustin’s been?” That wipes the smile right off his face, but Steve doesn’t feel any better for it.
“That’s not what I wanted. But I led them away from him, right? Gave you more time,” Eddie says, his brows pinched together and lips pursing briefly before he puts his neutral smile back on, “before they got back to Dracula’s lair.” He sounds like he did that day in the woods—openly vulnerable, but always with some joke or self-deprecating remark to duck behind if need be. Dustin’s always saying Eddie never cared what anyone else thought of him, but the hurt in his eyes is painfully obvious. There’s no doubt about it. He cared—cares—what Steve thinks. “Coulda been you getting chomped on instead of me, y’know?”
Steve grumbles, but he's not totally wrong. If Nancy, Robin, and Eddie hadn’t come in right after him when he was pulled through the lake gate, it probably would’ve been him dying that way the day before Eddie ended up dying. They even have matching scars. He can see the raw red line across Eddie’s neck and knows he has one exactly like it. A little more faded, but otherwise the same.
And just the other day, he would’ve fallen to his death on that ladder if Dustin hadn’t broken down like that. Which he only did because Eddie went and died first. He’s still pissed off Eddie didn’t listen to him, though. Pissed he’s gone. Pissed Dustin worships him and hates Steve a little for surviving, for letting Eddie die.
“I told you not to be a hero. I told both of you to stay put.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard it all earlier. No need to go through the whole spiel again. Kinda killing the mood here, man.”
Steve has no clue what mood he means, but he’s acutely aware that his dick is still hard and Eddie’s legs are bare against his upper thighs. He would only have to move up a few inches to be directly on top of Steve’s hard-on. Any second now, he’s going to see it, assuming he hasn’t already.
Like a reflex, Steve imagines Eddie sneering down at him that he’s the real queer, isn’t he? Tommy H. probably called Eddie and his friends that all the time in school, and now here Steve is, helpless and hard beneath the freak of Hawkins High.
But he wouldn’t. Eddie’s not like that.
In fact, when Steve stops overthinking, he finds Eddie staring off at nothing in particular, chewing on his bottom lip with his brow furrowed. Steve’s dick is probably the last thing on his mind.
“There was nothing for me to go back to,” he admits.
“What about Dustin?” It’s not like Steve can ask what about the rest of them; they hadn’t even known each other that well. But he left them too. Just up and left. “What about your uncle?”
“Oh, you and Wayne good friends now? Been cuttin’ it up at Forest Hills lately?”
“No,” Steve replies, a little ashamed that he’s never even met the guy. “But Dustin goes every week.”
Eddie’s big puppy dog eyes go all wounded again. “I would’ve had to skip town. I wouldn’t be able to see them. I couldn’t be in a band. You know I almost got signed by a major record label once? I’m not crazy, I really could’ve made it, if I wasn’t fucking doomed.”
Steve had had no idea he came that close. It strikes him then that he really doesn’t know what Eddie got up to when he wasn’t on the run from the law and being hunted by an unhinged basketball team captain.
“I just wanted to be me. If my only options are prison or death, I figure—at least let me die as myself. Only not a coward for once.”
“That’s the damn—” Steve takes a quick breath and releases it. It’s just so frustrating that Eddie died and still doesn’t get it. They could’ve helped him. Could’ve hid him. Was that so hard for him to believe? “Those weren’t your only options, and you weren’t a coward, man!”
Eddie’s face crumples at that, to hear that he wasn’t a coward. “You think you know, but you have no idea”—and his voice is cracking now, too, fuck—“no idea what it’s like to have everyone in town hate you. You ever been treated like a monster, Steve? Even back in the day, when you kinda were one? Nah. Nah, man, you were the King. King Steve.”
A hot feeling passes through him, settling in his gut. He thinks of all the lives he made worse without even knowing it—Robin with Tammy Thompson, Barb going missing from his house and all he could think about was how his dad would react. He and Nancy were over right then, even if she wasn’t bold enough then to end it; she didn’t love him because he wasn’t someone worth loving.
“I haven’t been that guy in years,” Steve says quietly, hoping it’s true.
“No,” Eddie agrees. “I know you haven’t. I don’t hold it against you, Steve,” he says, a lopsided smile straining his features. “It’s just—there’s some stuff you wouldn’t understand.”
Tell me anyway, Steve thinks. Leave so I can have the most fucked up jerk off session of my life. Stay here and make fun of me for somehow staying hard through all of this. Tell me I’m a piece of shit, the same rich, selfish jerk I’ve always been. Tell me you like me anyway.
He doesn’t say any of that because it doesn’t make sense. Eddie’s gone, he died, and it doesn’t matter that he saw Steve for who he really was and still liked him. No matter what’s happening now, it won’t change those basic facts. There’s a permanence to death that scares the hell out of him, and Eddie ran into it head-on and still thinks he’s a coward.
He doesn’t say anything, and Eddie must get bored of searching his face for answers.
“Well, ‘s much fun as I’ve had chatting, I do have a job to do here.”
“Uh-huh,” Steve says warily, “and what job is that?”
“You took those painkillers they gave you at the hospital, washed ‘em down with your old man’s good scotch, you’re dehydrated, barely sleeping, haven’t jerked off in like three weeks. What do you think?”
Steve blinks. What’s he supposed to think? Before he can muster up any inkling, Eddie extends his hand to Steve’s chest like he expects Steve to reach up and shake it. “Hey—hey, man, name’s Eddie. I’ll be your sleep paralysis sex demon for the evening. Sorry, bucko, nothing I can do about it. Shouldn’t mix up booze with pills and blue ball yourself so long next time.”
“You’re gonna fuck me?” Steve splutters.
“Eh, I could,” Eddie replies easily, making a show of sizing him up, “but recent bitching aside, you were pretty nice to me at the end there, all things considered. Pretty nice to Eddie the Banished. Thought it’d be less traumatic if I just went ahead and fucked myself on your cock. Sound good?”
“Uh.” Truthfully, it doesn’t sound bad. It just seems too crazy to be real, even if the weight of him in Steve’s lap makes it feel real. “This isn’t, like… a Vecna thing, right?”
“Vecna wouldn’t want your dick, dude, are you serious? You really think you’re God’s gift, huh? Besides, I’m not from the Upside Down, that’s just where I died. I’m from, you know”—he shrugs—“regular hell.”
Steve lets out a huff. Regular hell, huh? Not like he can say that’s too ridiculous after everything they’ve seen. No demons have ever tried to fuck him before, though. That’s definitely a new one. Still, he feels the need to check. “Are you serious?”
Eddie laughs, his dimples deepening impossibly. “Yeah. Dead serious.”
“Great. Good one.” Steve rolls his eyes, sighs. “I don’t know, dude. Do what you gotta do.”
“Alright,” Eddie replies, giving him a short nod. Just when Steve thinks he’s going to get started, Eddie looks at him cockeyed and says, “Y’know, I kinda thought you’d be all, ‘Oh, Eddie, I’m not a queer, man, I’m gonna kick your ass’.”
“Uh. Well, it’s like your job, isn’t it?”
For a long moment, Eddie just stares at him, his brow crinkled like he’s trying to solve a complex problem. When his eyes drop to Steve’s lips, there’s a second where Steve can’t breathe at all. He remembers Will crying earlier when he told all of them he didn’t like girls, and it didn’t change anything, but that’s not Steve. Steve likes girls plenty.
He’s just scared. There’s a demon in his lap and he can’t move. Being scared is normal. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Plus, it’s not like either of us really chose this, so...”
For reasons beyond Steve, that startles a laugh out of Eddie. “I guess so, man,” he says. “I guess so!”
There’s a brief tickle at Steve’s hip as he works a fingertip under his briefs followed by a loud rip as he makes quick work of them with a nail. As soon as Eddie moves the shredded waistband aside, Steve’s cock slaps up against his stomach.
“Would you look at that,” Eddie says in a singsong voice, tearing the briefs the rest of the way off.
He’s staring. While Steve would love nothing more than to disappear, his dumb dick refuses to cooperate. If anything, he feels himself getting harder the longer Eddie gawks at him.
“Yeah, well,” he replies nonsensically.
Miserable, he realizes there’s no running from it now. Eddie’s going to make fun of his pathetically persistent boner and there’s nothing he can say to defend himself.
Except, it really is just the friction. It’s the pressure in his lap, the fact that he hasn’t had any time to get off lately, and then maybe some wires crossed because he misses Eddie and he’s horny and Eddie is sort of pretty like a girl if you squint.
“Turns out I’m a goddamn psychic ‘cause what did I say, huh? Big boy?” Steve lets out a big, embarrassing gasp when he feels a hand close around his cock. “Surprised anyone bothers talking about your hair.”
Unbelievable. Eddie’s managed to turn his humiliation into a strangely shy pride over his dick size.
It’s too much. Steve has to look away, back up at the ceiling, so he doesn’t notice what Eddie’s doing ‘til he hears and feels the spit splattering onto his cock. He can’t help but groan, because it’s gross but also hot, and when Steve finds his eyes again, Eddie’s grinning down at him like he knows it.
Helpless to it, he groans louder still as Eddie begins jerking him up and down with both hands, muttering, “Yeah, big boy is fucking right,” under his breath.
“Eddie,” Steve pleads, desperate to move and be able to see what’s being done to him. A pathetic choking sound escapes him when one of Eddie’s hands moves off of his cock and he hears the rustling of fabric. It’s torture not knowing what Eddie’s doing—is he taking out his cock? “Can you let me—”
“Nah, no touching.”
There’s a slick rubbing sound and Steve can’t take it anymore, needs so badly to fuck Eddie’s fist and see whatever the hell he’s doing to himself.
“I was gonna ask if you could give me some head and neck movement back,” he pants out. Mercifully and also cruelly, Eddie takes his hand off Steve’s dick. “And maybe a pillow? All I can see is the ceiling and your face and my neck is killing me, man.”
“Not a fan of my ugly mug, huh?”
“Shut up,” Steve replies dully.
No way he’s going to tell a demon Eddie Munson that he likes looking at his stupid face, disarming smile, red lips, and all. He likes the way he seems to see way too much, even though it also freaks him the hell out. He just wants to be able to see Eddie’s scars and skinny body splayed out over his lap, too.
Eddie snorts, but acquiesces. “Sure thing, boss.”
With a dramatic hand flourish, he snaps his fingers, and all of a sudden, Steve’s head is all dead weight, careening off to the side like he’s a bobblehead. With some effort, he manages to roll it back and finds Eddie leaning over the side of the bed. He can see now that Eddie is naked for him, for this, his ribs sticking out a little and the skin of his stomach folding where he’s bent. He’s got pinkish white scars that match Steve’s, but his are bigger, angrier, stars exploding on his sides where the bats got him.
That’s when he sees it, the fabric Eddie was messing with—there are ivory straps high on his waist, leading down, and then Eddie is sliding a hand behind Steve’s head, carefully lifting it to slide his pillow behind it.
As if on autopilot, Steve’s eyes keep following those white lines down to flimsy lace underpants that barely conceal Eddie’s dick. It’s so lewd. He’s nothing like a girl, with his skinny hips and the coarse trail of black hair leading from his belly button to his cock, not to mention the raging hard-on he’s sporting. Unlike Steve, he shows no sign of being self-conscious about it, still fluffing Steve’s pillow and brushing the hair out of his face.
“You know, you’re pretty gentle for a demon,” Steve points out.
“Yeah, well, not really the type of demon that does all that—evil shit, you know.” Eddie shrugs. “You all good up there? Think I’m gonna suck you and get myself ready.”
He presents the back of his right hand as if he’s showing off his rings. There are none on his index and middle fingers, though, and they’re the only ones without crazy red talons on them.
“Uh-huh,” Steve drones as that hits him all at once.
He’s must be losing his damn mind. Any second now, he’s going to wake up from this vivid dream, or get his balls sliced off by this trickster demon. Those feel like the only options, but Eddie’s good to his word. He shifts down Steve’s body ‘til his face is right over Steve’s lap.
Further down, his ass is in the air and Steve can see how tiny the thong really is, just a white lace string in the back. It doesn’t cover anything. With one of those talons, he pulls the string to the side, and his hole is just on display, fucking shiny and pink. Steve can’t tear his eyes away, uncontrollably envisioning what it would be like to plunge inside and the noises he could get Eddie to make, so he doesn’t notice Eddie making to grab for his dick.
Eddie gets one pathetic gasp out of him before he’s able to steel himself and breathe through it. But then Eddie smirks up at him and sticks out his tongue mere inches from Steve’s dick, and he loses all his breath again. All his concentration goes towards watching what Eddie does next.
Lazily, he starts painting the head of Steve’s cock with his tongue in slow, messy circles, clearly trying to get the whole thing wet. Steve hears that slick rubbing sound again and when he manages to look away from Eddie’s mouth, he finds Eddie rubbing two fingers over his wet hole, massaging it like he’s about to jerk off with his fingers in his ass.
He imagines Eddie when he was alive lying face down on his bed, fingering himself, thinking about how good it would feel to have Steve’s cock in him instead. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t have thought of him that way, though. Maybe he wrote him off as a douchebag the way Robin did ‘til they got to know each other. It’s not like he and Eddie had had the time for that.
He thought being able to see would make this less frustrating, but he’s overwhelmed by desire now, torn between wanting to watch Eddie suck him and wanting to watch him slowly stretch himself. As he works his middle finger in to the knuckle, a low, needy whine escapes Eddie’s throat, the sound muffled by Steve’s cock reverberating into his body.
“Eddie,” he groans.
“Mmm,” Eddie hums around him before pulling off with a wet pop. “Must not be sucking you good enough if you can still talk.”
Steve wants to assure him that it’s good, everything he’s doing is good, but Eddie’s shoving his face in his lap, gulping around his length hungrily before he can say a word, sucking him down with ease like he really has no limit. In no time, his nose is digging into Steve’s pubic hair as he swallows around him, over and over.
The sensation hits Steve a moment delayed, shooting out from his groin down into his paralyzed toes. A string of curses spills from his lips and the urge to buck up or hold Eddie by the hair, or his horns even, is all-consuming. He knows he’s making noises, overloud in his ringing ears, but he couldn’t stop to save his life.
The tip of his cock is being squeezed by Eddie’s throat muscles and Steve can’t help but wonder if he’s picked up this crazy fucking trick from this “job” of his, or if Eddie could do this shit when he was alive. But there’s no thinking anymore when Eddie starts bobbing his head, swallowing him down and easing back off of him in an endless blissful loop.
From the way his shoulders are jerking and the sounds he makes around Steve’s cock, it’s obvious Eddie’s working himself open in earnest now, but Steve can only watch his insane throat show like he’s in a trance. He laughs, thinking dazedly that his version of Vecna’s curse would be Eddie Munson deepthroating him like a madman. There are definitely worse ways to go.
The sound makes Eddie look up at him, surveying him with his big brown eyes. Pulling up, he tongues Steve’s tip, pressing in lightly at the slit, and brings his left hand back into the equation to knead Steve’s balls.
Nobody ever touches Steve there. There’s a strange intimacy to it, since Eddie has the same parts. Maybe he likes this stuff done to him. Maybe he used to jerk off while kneading his own balls, and with something jammed up his ass.
The gentle licking allows Steve’s eyes to wander, and he finds Eddie vigorously fingerfucking himself with those two fingers. He can’t put any of the others inside him, Steve realizes, so that’ll be the only prep he gets before Steve’s inside him, much thicker than two fingers. It makes his head spin, makes his heart beat low in his throat.
“Think I’m ready,” Eddie announces, crawling up the length of Steve’s body, “if you are.” His lips are shiny and swollen and Steve just wants to bite right into them.
“Mnnh,” Steve moans pathetically. “Yeah, fuck, sit on my cock.”
“Oh, I’m gonna, stud.”
Eddie pats his cheek condescendingly, leaving behind wet streaks. It should be gross, especially because he didn’t see any… demon lube or whatever, so he has no idea how Eddie got himself wet like that, but it smells like sex. He’s sitting up now, Steve’s cock slapping against his ass when he pulls it back and gets his bearings hovering over Steve’s lap.
Steve pulls his head up as much as possible, straining his neck so he can see as much of Eddie as he can. He’s gripping the base of Steve’s cock, hovering over it, and finally lowers himself ‘til the head is nudging against his entrance, all soft and wet for him.
“How are you, uh—wet?” Steve pants out. “Did you put that stuff in you earlier?”
“Nah, it’s natural. It’s like I was saying. I can make myself whatever form I want. Could’ve even made you a pussy since everyone knows how much you love those, but you kinda ticked me off earlier, big guy.”
He wants to tell Eddie he’s done anal, too, doesn’t even really have a preference because he likes the prep, though sometimes it’s more intense because of the taboo, or because it isn’t the usual way, and sometimes he doesn’t want to get into all that. But nothing about the sex they’re having is comparable to his juvenile exploits with girls in high school. The weirdness and forced restraint are unlike anything he’s experienced before.
“I like—both,” he wheezes out, straining when Eddie pushes himself down, forcing pressure ‘til the head pops inside him. He’s trembling and clamping down around Steve ‘til every rational thought has left his mind.
It’s just thing this between them, this point where their bodies meet, with Steve immobilized and Eddie slowly impaling himself on his hard dick. The rest of the world goes fuzzy.
“Mmm,” Eddie moans, licking his lips. “God, it’s big.”
“Nnh… shit, Eddie.”
“I like when you say my name,” he says, like it costs him nothing to admit it. Steve likes how Eddie says his name, too, drawing it out like he’s making fun of both of them, and anyone who was dumb enough to worship King Steve. But he’d be embarrassed to admit it. Usually, anyway. With his cock partway up Eddie’s ass, what could it hurt?
“I like how you say mine too. And, uh—the nickname.”
“Big boy?” Eddie asks with a wide grin. Steve gives a small nod. “Yeah?” The pleasant pink of his cheeks alone makes it worth it. “Nothing to it, man. Just stating facts.”
He takes his hand away, leaving just the tip of Steve’s dick enveloped, and drops down another inch or so, groaning urgently like he hadn’t meant to. But Steve liked it. He liked it a lot. He wants Eddie to lose control again, wants his legs to give out so he falls right into Steve’s lap. He’d offer to help him out, pretend he’s doing Eddie a favor, and rock his fucking world. But no matter how badly Steve wants, he’s not the one in control. Eddie has it all.
He reaches both hands behind him and then suddenly he’s taking Steve in even deeper, breathing out and slackening his muscles so he can bounce his way down.
“Damn thing just keeps going, huh?” he mumbles.
“Holding yourself open for me, baby?”
Eddie laughs. “Yeah. Gotta. I had no idea so many girls in our school were size queens. This thing is insane,” he moans, high and throaty.
Fuck. Steve would give anything to see him from behind.
“You’re so close,” he urges, practically crawling out of his skin. “Doing such a good job.”
He always feels stupid trying to talk during sex, especially dirty talk, but even though Eddie keeps on laughing, it feels good to tell him this stuff, to act like he’s the boss of him even though he doesn’t have any power over Eddie right now. Except—if he wanted to stop, he’s pretty sure Eddie would stop, so that’s sort of a power. He doesn’t want to stop, though.
As it stands, he’s throbbing like crazy inside Eddie as the guy finally manages to sink down all the way, soft cheeks pressing into the tops of Steve’s thighs. He keeps letting out these high-pitched whimpers while trying to settle into a comfortable position in Steve’s lap with Steve’s dick buried all the way inside him. It sets off such a blaze in Steve’s gut to know that if he had control of his body, he would’ve thrust up into Eddie without meaning to. It’s like even Eddie’s muscles tease him instinctively.
“Is it okay?” he asks, low.
“Ah, yeah,” Eddie says, his voice shaky. “Never been stretched this wide. Never had anything in me so deep. Unh, Steve—s’like you’re leaving a you-sized hole inside me.”
“Freak,” Steve murmurs, unable to hide the fondness he’s feeling.
It’s just so quintessentially Eddie. Of course he’d be weird and chatty in bed.
“Hah, you like it,” he teases, swiveling his hips in these tiny circles like he’s still trying to get used to the feeling of Steve inside him. “Can’t believe you like it.”
“Yeah. Who wouldn’t?”
He regrets those words immediately, making it impersonal like that.
But Eddie just shrugs it off. “Oh, you know…”
And Steve doesn’t know, but he’s happy for the brush off. He doesn’t want to think about anyone else experiencing this with Eddie, or give Eddie the impression that this is a normal thing for him either.
Stuck like this, all he can do is think about how different this is from how sex usually goes. Eddie’s hot inside, scorching hot and excruciatingly snug. His insides grip Steve’s cock so tightly that it should chafe, except for the fact that he’s so slick in there with that natural lubricant of his.
When he starts to move up and down, Steve takes in a deep breath and lets it out steadily. The slow pace Eddie’s got going as he acclimates to the cock in his ass is total agony. He has the freedom to see everything Eddie’s doing, and he loves being able to see Eddie’s abdominal muscles flinch as he clamps down on Steve’s cock and makes his little sounds. But the urge to touch and move with him only builds, the fire in his belly blazing ‘til it’s licking the base of his throat. He wants to demand it, but he’s ready to beg, anything to make Eddie give him this thing he needs.
“Are you gonna—”
“Hmm?”
“Are you gonna, you know… actually ride it?”
“Oh… this isn’t doing it for you, Steve?” he asks, sounding so wounded that Steve feels bad for about three seconds before he catches the smirk on Eddie’s face.
“Asshole,” he grumbles while Eddie laughs. “C’mon, no way this is any good for you either.”
“I’ll have you know I’m having a great time, man,” he says, preening in Steve’s lap.
“What, you think you can actually come from this?”
“I don’t need to come to have a great time. I’m catching up with my old friend Steve Harrington.”
Closing his eyes, Steve takes in another deep breath. He thinks of the whimpering and the involuntary clench around him when Eddie accidentally took in more of his cock than he meant to. He thinks about getting control of his body back, flipping them, pinning Eddie’s wrists, and pounding him into the mattress ‘til he comes screaming Steve’s name.
Fuck. He doesn’t usually want it like that, just if the girl is experienced and likes it that way. Eddie doesn’t feel experienced, but it doesn’t even matter; it’s like this is mental chess they’re playing and Steve only knows checkers. Fucking Eddie ‘til he can’t breathe might be all he has in a situation like this, and it’s not even an option right now.
“Oh, you can’t stand this,” Eddie observes, in that stupid little sing-song voice of his, “not being in control.”
Of course he can’t. Even when his body’s working normally, Steve prefers being on top, but on the rare occasion someone wants to ride him, after a few minutes, he’s usually got them on their back and he’s in control again, pounding away. Eddie on the other hand just rolls his hips languidly, letting Steve’s cock spear his tight ass open over and over, slow as goddamn molasses.
It’s driving Steve nuts. He wants so badly to fist the sheets in his hands and snap his hips up a few times to release the tension building in him, but he can’t even tense his muscles to give Eddie some resistance. It’s like Eddie’s humping a worn-out pillow on a waterbed, and Steve’s the pillow.
“Or maybe you’re just a lousy lay,” he grumbles, fed up with no one else to take it out on. “You ever consider that?”
“Nah,” Eddie replies easily, smiling, always smiling, “never had any complaints.”
There’s nothing Steve can do to stop the growl that escapes his lips.
“What was that?” Eddie gasps theatrically. “You’re not jealous, are you, big boy?”
“No.” Steve scoffs. “Maybe I just don’t wanna think about everyone else who’s been in your ass right now.”
“Well, tough shit, Steve. You know I’m a demon, right? I made this form fucking today. Hole’s never been fucked. So don’t give me that shit. You’re not exactly squeaky clean yourself,” he snaps. The venom fades fast, though, like he just needed to meet mean with mean for it to clear his system. “Y’know, I never got to do this when I was alive.”
“Use me like a dildo while I was paralyzed? When would you have had the chance?”
“No, dingdong,” Eddie retorts, reminding Steve briefly of Robin. “I never got fucked. Oh, don’t give me that look.” Steve wasn’t even aware he’d made a face. “I don’t need your pity. Not like I was a monk or anything. Girls liked me plenty.”
“Wasn’t pitying you,” Steve says, even though he totally had been. Mostly for the eaten by bats part. He’s sort of lost on the question of Eddie’s sexual experience now. Just to say something, he adds, “You still haven’t gotten fucked.” It’s a weak attempt to eke out the upper-hand, but it seems to land, the way Eddie tries to laugh it off, but doesn’t disengage.
“You think? How do you figure?”
“You said you don’t, you know—unfreeze the others. You’re basically riding sex dolls at that point.” Steve hits him with the smuggest grin he can muster. “Haunted sex dolls.”
“No way,” Eddie dismisses, rolling his eyes.
“I’m serious!”
“So, what, you could teach me how to really do it?” he teases. “That what you’re angling for, sweetheart?”
Steve doesn’t shrug because he can’t, and he can’t make a noncommittal noise because Eddie is swiveling his hips more aggressively now, clamping around his cock when he lifts up, and it’s all he can do to bite back a groan. “Ah, no skin off my ass if you wanna stay a virgin forever.”
“Didn’t say I was a virgin. Just never had a dick in my ass when I was alive.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
What can he say to that? He’s never had a dick in his ass either. Was that something Eddie spent a lot of time thinking about when he was alive? Did he ever imagine Steve that way? “Well, whatever. You wanna keep arguing and doing a crappy job riding me, that’s your business.”
“Nah, I think you’d better show me how it’s done, King Steve.” He’s stopped moving at all, just keeping Steve inside. Steve feels himself throbbing and Eddie’s pulse feeding into each other, an endless feedback loop of inert sex. “What do you want me to free up for ya?”
Steve’s stunned for a moment, because how the fuck did that work? But he snaps into action fast enough to bring back one of Eddie’s big gleeful grins. “Uh, hands, I guess. No, wait—arms, up to the shoulder. And I’ll need my hips. Pelvis. The whole, uh, the core muscles. And actually, I’ll need some leg muscles back so I can, you know—”
“Alright, so, everything? You just want everything?”
“Is that… cool?”
“Is it cool?” Eddie snorts. “Not really. I mean, we give these guys full control back, they could hurt us.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve protests.
“No? It’s just, I’m getting some mixed messages here, man! First I died a stupid way and it’s all my fault, then no it wasn’t, then it’s ‘For Eddie’! It’s a lot to digest, you know?”
“Eddie,” he says, hurt that Eddie would even think he was mad like that. “I wouldn’t.”
“Alright,” Eddie replies, with one last long searching look. “Alright, man.”
With a little huff, he waves his hand unceremoniously, and Steve’s body jerks to life.