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Steve is aware, on, like, a surface level, that he’s physically attractive. He had always kinda thought that should be enough to get girls. Be cute, or hot, or whatever, and they’ll want to make out with him in the backseat of the car. Maybe, if he’s lucky, rub him over his pants. Or, shit, maybe even go into the supply closet during his break at work and take his dick out of his pants and suck him off sloppily and deeply and use her hands and—um. It’s been a while.
He never really thought about his game, or, like, what he would need to do in addition to being hot to get them to like him, and that has become extremely obvious after strikeout number—he checks Robin’s notepad—twelve of the week.
“Stevie, this is getting embarrassing,” she says, somehow sounding both sympathetic and mean at the same time.
Steve runs his hands through his hair, pulls. “I’m losing it, Robin!” he says. “Or I’m going to lose it.”
“What if you never had it,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her teeth with a maroon fingernail.
“I fucking had it,” he says, throwing his hands up. “And now. I need it.” She makes a disgusted face at him. “Sorry. Wait. I meant I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Y’ever try hitting on guys?” she asks.
He squints at her. “No?”
“Just asking!” she squeaks. “Might give you another angle. Freshen things up a bit. Rearrange the furniture. Air out the musty old. Um. House.”
“What,” he says.
She shrugs. Turns to the computer and clicks around. “Mrs. Davidson has, like, an insane amount of Chevy Chase movies out right now.”
“And?” Steve is pretty sure she’s moved on from not-helping.
Click. Click. “Eddie Munson will be returning Labyrinth today.”
He eyes her. “How do you know that?”
“I just do,” she says. They leave things at that.
Steve decides to go reshelve. He’s in the action movie section, saying fragments of the alphabet to himself over and over as he sorts, and by chance when he’s looking at the door, Eddie Munson walks in with Labyrinth. He returns it at the desk, checks out something else from the other side of the store. He and Robin chat for a few minutes at the counter, and Steve hears Eddie’s loud cackle.
He looks over and sees Robin drumming her hands on the counter excitedly, mouth open, laughing. Since when have they been friends? Steve wonders if he’s jealous because Robin is his, or if it’s something else. He gets up, his knees cracking, and walks over.
“Hey, guys,” he says. Eddie raises his eyebrows at him.
“Gotta jet,” he says to Robin, and she gives him finger guns.
“Go get him,” she says, winking. It looks painful. She is not good at winking.
Steve is confused. He watches Eddie leave the store. “What the hell, he didn’t even talk to me,” Steve says, pouting.
“Maybe he hates you,” Robin sighs. “I don’t know how anyone could, but maybe he does.”
“Aww,” Steve says, leaning towards Robin, trying to bump her head with his. “I don’t hate you either.”
“Not what I said, but thanks.” She pats his hand. “Eddie just told me he made a sex tape.”
“WHAT?” Steve yells, then covers his mouth. “What?” he whispers.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,” she says, eyes wide.
Steve vaults himself over the counter. “Why did he tell you that?” he asks, voice low and quick. This is. Intriguing. What if something like that could help Steve out in the getting-laid department? Wait, Eddie’s getting laid, while Steve isn’t? What kind of world is this? He needs information.
“I don’t—shit,” Robin says, clamming up. “I have no further information.”
“God dammit,” Steve huffs.
“Is this important to you in some way?” she asks, giving him a suspicious look.
“No,” he says. “Not really. Maybe I wanna make one.”
She laughs, long enough that Steve looks around the store to make sure no one is paying attention to them. “It would have to be a solo video, wouldn’t it?”
He flicks her in the nose. Wait, that’s an option? He hadn’t really considered that. “Is Eddie’s solo?” he asks, without thinking. He immediately regrets it.
“WHY,” Robin says, grasping both of Steve’s arms and shaking him gently, “do you care, I wasn’t even supposed to tell you and now it’s like you want to watch it, and I don’t actually want to be responsible for any of this.”
“Sorry,” he says. “Jeez.”
“Jeez yourself,” she says, throwing her hands up.
“Rob, do you still love me,” Steve asks quietly after what feels like an eternity of silence.
“Of course,” she says, bumping his hip with hers. They grin at each other.
—-
Okay, but, for real, what the fuck? Steve, for the life of him, cannot stop thinking about a potential Eddie Munson sex tape. What’s on the video? Is he fucking someone? Getting his dick sucked? Jerking off? Something else that Steve has never even thought about before? Because those are the main things he can think of. Oh, maybe he’s giving someone else oral sex? Even—giving a guy head? Robin had said “go get him,” and Steve vaguely remembers something about Eddie not being straight-straight. The thought has Steve’s head spinning, a little.
Steve is useless the next day at Family Video. He has to expend a lot of energy and brainpower not asking Robin when Eddie is returning his videotape. For some reason, he thinks seeing Eddie in person is going to answer his questions. He doesn’t think he’s ever known someone who has made a video of themself having sex, and he is obsessed.
He tries another tactic. It’s stupid. “Since when are you and Eddie Munson friends?” he asks Robin, as casually as he possibly can.
Robin is in the middle of checking out a customer, taking the guy’s money and instructing him on returns. “I’m in the middle of checking out a customer,” she says loudly without turning around, “and I need to instruct them on how and when to return the tape, so I cannot answer your question right now.” Steve glances at the customer, who is giving both him and Robin the most confused look ever.
“Hi?” the man says to Steve.
“I hope you enjoy your movie,” Steve says sincerely.
Robin finishes up with the guy and he leaves, waving awkwardly as he exits the store.
She takes a deep breath and turns. “Eddie and I have bumped into each other in a, you know, gay-and-lesbian capacity. In Indy. That’s all. Not physically. You know what I mean.”
“Ohh,” Steve says, like he understands and doesn’t feel extremely left out.
“You can come with me sometime, if you want, you know.”
“I know,” he says. It’s like Robin can read further into his mind than he can. She’s invited him before, he just didn’t know what to expect or what he would be doing at a gay bar with her. Maybe it’s not a bad idea. “So Eddie is…?”
“I don’t know,” Robin says. “But he does like guys.”
“Cool,” Steve says. It is so, so hard for him to not ask if his sex tape is with a guy. He knows on some level that it isn’t his business at all, but it feels like he desperately needs to know. Like knowing will make him stop thinking about it. And make him stop thinking about Eddie and his dick, which is not normal behavior for him and if he’s honest with himself (and he’s not) maybe indeed does mean something.
“Do you like him or something?” Robin asks gently.
Steve’s eyes widen, his mouth drops open. “No,” he says, and composes himself, thinks maybe he can explain, sort of. “I just—what you told me yesterday is blowing my mind, still.”
She gives him a look like okay, weirdo. “The idea of an Eddie Munson sex tape is blowing your mind,” she says slowly, clarifying.
“I don’t know how you’re intending that, or whatever, but that’s not it.”
“Mmmmmkay,” she says.
Steve rolls his eyes. She is not going to understand him. Maybe he doesn’t understand himself. Clearly she thinks he’s in denial about something, but he’s not. He is plainly just fascinated by the idea of recording yourself fucking. Being able to watch yourself orgasm. It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Eddie, that he can picture Eddie’s face as he’s getting sucked off, or whatever. That he can imagine Eddie’s pale, taut torso flexing. Um. He’s not picturing that at all, and Robin is wrong.
Eddie doesn’t return his tape today. Steve promises himself that he doesn’t care.
—-
He finds an RCA camcorder in the hall closet at home. He vaguely remembers his dad buying it, recording his mom cooking, filming people lounging around at a pool party, shooting them opening presents at Christmas a few years ago. He hasn’t seen the camera since then. He pops the tape out, is lucky enough to find another empty one in the case.
“Is this dumb,” he mumbles to himself. He lugs the camera into his bedroom, closes the door, sets it on his desk. Takes off his shirt. Sits on his bed. “This feels dumb,” he says, and then feels even sillier talking to himself.
The dark round eye of the camera is pointing at him. He hasn’t turned it on yet, he’s just staring at it. Trying to decide if he should do this. It feels…intimidating, to have the machine staring at him, like it’s going to be judging him. But it also feels kind of sexy and exciting. Someone could watch it, see him making himself feel good. It would be on tape, a physical thing, for someone to get off on. He doesn’t know exactly who would enjoy watching it, but he can think of a few specific people he wouldn’t mind watching, if they were into that. So maybe someone would.
He breathes out a big sigh, gets up and goes to the desk. Turns the camera on. He’s never used one of these things before but it looks like it’s recording. He sets it back down, cranes his head around to see if his bed is even in the frame. It seems fine. He wishes he could see what he looks like in the picture, and immediately decides that if it looks weird or bad he’ll just record over it. It’s not like he can’t jack off again another day. Or later, even.
He’s gonna just do it. He slides himself up the bed and props himself up against his headboard.
—-
“I made a sex tape,” he tells Robin at work the next day, when there’s no one in the store.
She gawks. “You little freak,” she says, laughing. “I’m guessing you’re just…?” she makes a jerking-off gesture, grossed out but amused.
Steve squeezes his eyes shut against the embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“And?” she asks.
“And what?”
“Was it fulfilling, or whatever?”
He laughs. “I mean, I guess.”
“Did it help you cope with the idea of Eddie’s?”
Ugh. He didn’t need to be reminded of that. It kind of did, though. But also made it even more perplexing. Now that there’s a video of him jerking off on a tape sitting in his bedroom, he’s not sure what to do next. And he wonders: did Eddie make his in order to show someone else? Or to watch himself? Steve keeps forgetting that he doesn’t know if the tape is solo or not. That information would really help him out.
“Frankly, I’m even more confused now,” he says. Robin claps her hands together, looks excited. “Not about my sexuality,” he says, and she deflates a little.
“It’s not that I want you to be confused about your sexuality, sorry,” she says. “I guess I think of it more as horizon-expanding.”
“Well,” he says.
She drills a rhythm into the desk with her nails. “He’s going to return his movie today,” she says.
“Does he tell you this ahead of time?” he asks. “I feel like you’re trying to trick me into thinking you’re psychic.”
She smirks, says nothing.
Steve has to know about Eddie’s tape. He’s going to go crazy. “I’m confused about…why he made it,” he says. “That’s what I’m confused about.”
“Why’d you do it?” she says.
He shrugs. “I thought it might help me understand. I thought it might be fun, or someone might like to see it.”
“Maybe that’s why he did it,” she says. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything about Steve wanting to understand, because he really doesn’t know what to say about that part. He doesn’t even know the real reason why he’s so obsessed with it.
“Is it just him, or…with someone?” Steve asks, again. She didn’t answer last time, but maybe she will now.
She shakes her head and shrugs. “Didn’t tell me.”
Steve groans, puts his head in his hands. “That's what I need to know, so I can stop fucking thinking about it.”
Robin looks at him knowingly. “I’m sorry it’s bugging you, babe,” she says. It’s like she finally does understand, somehow. She pats him on the shoulder.
Steve straightens up, and goes to the back to get some coffee.
While he’s back there, he mulls it over. What if his weird obsession is something else. What if he does want to see the video—not that he ever explicitly thought that he didn’t—and it’s not just for, like, research purposes? The idea seems strange to him, unlikely. He’s just a curious guy, at least where the pleasures of the flesh are concerned. That’s probably it. And he can admit to himself that he does want to see it. He wonders if Eddie would want to see his.
Robin’s voice gets loud, and he thinks he hears her say “Steve” in conversation. Yikes. He goes back out, stays a little hidden behind the shelves to spy on her.
Fuck. It’s Eddie. Why’d she say Steve’s name?
He sneaks around the corner of the shelf and peeks out. Eddie’s hair is pulled back. Jeans tight. He smiles brightly at Robin, and glances over at Steve. Shit.
He steps out from behind the shelf like he wasn’t being an absolute creep, waves hi at both of them. “Just, um, shelving,” he says.
Robin bites back a laugh. “Stevie,” she says. “Eddie said he hated this movie. Didn’t you hate it too?” She holds up The Terminator.
“The hell?” he says. “I did not hate Terminator.”
“Me either,” Eddie says, confused.
She laughs, fake and bubbly. “Oh, that was just me then. Maybe you have similar taste. What’s another good one for Eddie, Steve?” she asks.
Steve panics. What is she doing? Asking for film recommendations? Suddenly he can think of zero movies.
“Uhhh,” he says. “I don’t know.”
“You were telling me about one earlier,” she says, grinning. “You have it at home. I think he’d like that one.”
Fuck. The Video. He is literally going to murder her. He pictures strangling her with the store's phone cord, but he can’t see her actually dying. Okay, he won’t murder her. But he’s going to kill her.
“Ohh, yeah. That one. Can’t think of the name of it right now,” he says, glaring daggers at her. “Wait. I think it was called something like Shut the Fuck Up 2: The Shut-Uppening?”
Eddie laughs, and Steve cannot pretend it doesn’t thrill him a little.
Robin keeps a straight face. “No, I don’t think that was it. Here, I’ll let you two talk privately.” She leaps over the counter, goes away, thank God.
Steve steps closer to the register, to Eddie, no idea what he’s supposed to say or do. He leans on the counter.
“She hates The Terminator?” Eddie says hesitantly. “And I thought she was cool.”
“No, she sucks,” Steve says. Eddie laughs again.
“So, no movie recs?” he asks.
Steve tries to think, but his mind is seriously blank. He’s too close to Eddie. He’s been thinking about him nonstop for days and he’s buzzing with the proximity, the realness of the real Eddie right here.
“Um,” he says. He glances over at the shelf nearest him. Sees Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep. “Kramer vs. Kramer?” he says.
Eddie laughs. “Isn’t that, like, a rom-com?”
“Not really,” Steve says.
“I’ll pass,” Eddie says. “But thanks.”
“Did you just recommend Kramer vs. Kramer to Eddie Munson?” Robin shrieks from an undisclosed location.
“Shut the Fuck Up 3 is in theaters NOW,” Steve yells back. Eddie laughs again, and Steve really could get used to the sound.
“I’ve gotta go,” Eddie says, slapping the counter like it’s bongos, rings clacking. “If you want to lend me that movie she mentioned, I’m interested.” He looks Steve up and down and winks—fucking winks, and Steve is going to kill Robin six hundred times. He turns and then he’s gone.
Steve covers his face with his hands and screams.
Robin runs out from wherever she was hiding. “I didn’t do anything!” she squeals. “Swear!”
His expression is neutral, voice flat. “I’m going to run you over with a boat.”
“You don’t have a boat.”
“Then I’m going to kick you in the eyes.”
“Why,” she pleads.
“Did you tell him,” he says.
“I didn’t, but something I said may have suggested—”
“Stop,” he says. She goes quiet. “I’m going to give it to him.”
She falls dramatically to her knees, hands clasped, like she’s begging.
“This is insane,” Steve says. “You’re insane.”
“You are,” she says, and gets up. She hugs him, jiggles him up and down.
“This is insane,” he says again. He leans against the wall, slides down.
—-
Steve must have gone insane. He’s excited to give the tape to Eddie. If—and it seems like he does, but—if he knows that the tape is of Steve masturbating, and he wants to see it, and he told Steve he wanted to see it—then, like, that’s exciting. It’s exciting to Steve, that Eddie wants to see him. He’s still pissed off at Robin for interfering, but she also started all this shit in the first place.
He decides to watch the tape one last time before he hands it off. Just to make sure it’s okay. He puts it in his VCR, makes sure the volume is low. Scoots back onto his bed, sits crosslegged. Presses play.
He’s on the bed. The picture and sound are both kind of staticky. He’s wearing his boxers, and his legs are splayed out. He watches himself run his hands up and down his torso, thumb catching on his nipple. He rubs his thighs, rucking up the hem of the boxers. He has a half-chub, he can see where his dick is poking his boxers up a little.
It’s weird to see himself like this, feels like he’s peeking into an alternate-dimension mirror.
Steve-on-the-screen ghosts his hand over his cock, then squeezes it. He can hear himself breathing. He wriggles into the bed a little, and squeezes his cock again, bucks his hips up slightly. Steve-in-real-life watches as his concealed cock jumps, and his present, physical cock twitches in response. Shit. Is it wrong for his own video to turn him on? He tries to tell his dick that it doesn’t need to do that.
He watches himself teasing himself over his boxers, flexing his thighs, getting himself harder. He does this for a while, massaging himself, barely grazing his fingers over his stiffening dick. He grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and presses it over his groin, humps up into it a few times, presses it down hard and grinds up, slow, slow, slow. When he removes the pillow, he pulls down his boxers to his ankles and kicks them off. His cock springs up, and he grabs it. He sees himself biting his lip, closing his eyes. He turns the volume up a few notches, to see if he can hear more of himself over the static noise.
Screen-Steve leans back, strokes his cock a few times, and his abs flex, hips fucking upward. He keeps going, and Steve can hear a few soft gasps from the tv speakers. He’s hard, now, and mesmerized, watching himself. It still feels weird, but it’s hot. He looks good. He never really thought about what he looked like while jacking off but he looks like he’s enjoying himself, like it feels good. He reaches down with his left hand and grasps his balls, tugs a little, groans at that. Keeps stroking, speeding up a little, pulling up on the head every so often. He needs lube at this point, wants to stroke too fast, and he rolls to the side to get some from the bedside table. His ass looks good, he can admit that.
When he rolls back to his back, he slicks himself up, grabs his balls again, grunts as he fucks into his hand. The hand on his balls releases to tease his ass and his knees go up, planting his feet on the bed. He can’t really see what his hand is doing, but he remembers he was running his pinky finger along his cheeks, teasing himself as if he were going to touch his hole. He goes back to clutching his balls and uses his legs for leverage to fuck up into his hand, faster now, and actual Steve has to press his hand into his crotch empathetically. Steve-on-TV groans a long “fuuuck” and then squeezes his eyes shut and whispers “I’m gonna come, can I come,” and then tightens his grip and the first spurt of come flies up and hits him in the sternum. The rest spills over his hand as he keeps jacking himself.
Steve breathes out a long breath. He can’t tell if it felt like he was watching that for 30 seconds or three hours. But he thinks it was probably pretty good. He doesn’t feel there’s anything there that would weird Eddie out, provided he’s fine with the whole it’s-him-jerking-off-and-ejaculating thing.
He’s still hard, and he has to be honest with himself, thinking about Eddie watching it is only strengthening the force of his erection. He rolls over on the bed and grinds into the mattress a few times, hoping for relief or for his dick to give up or for something else. “Fucking hell,” he says, and shoves his hand in his pants. He unbuttons his jeans, unzips them, but leaves them on, jerking his dick in short, quick strokes in his boxers. When he comes, he’s thinking about Eddie doing the same thing after watching him.
—-
He brings the tape to work, labels it “art school - short film final project” thinking no one would ever willingly watch that if they found it, and hides it in the box with the destroyed tapes they are supposed to throw out.
“Is he coming here today,” Steve asks Robin, and she closes her eyes and thinks.
“Yes,” she says serenely.
So Steve waits. He does his job: he helps customers, he reorganizes the kids movie section after a particularly ferocious child knocks most of the tapes off the shelf. He replaces the tapes on the end caps, changing out Kramer vs. Kramer for Midnight Cowboy. (What? He likes Dustin Hoffman.)
When Eddie comes in, Steve’s first instinct is to hide. But he and Robin are both behind the counter, and he can’t do that.
“Hello, Eduardo,” Robin says.
“A new name? Oh, honey, you shouldn’t have,” he says.
“Hey,” Steve says, and Eddie gives him a flirtatious grin back.
“Hey,” he says.
Robin, seeing this, shrinks herself down below the edge of the counter. “I am going to be down here,” she says. “Not-seeing any of this. Thank you and you’re welcome.”
Steve and Eddie grin at each other, embarrassed.
“Um, I have a movie rec for you,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “I’ll go get it.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. His cheeks turn pink. He looks like he’s going to say something, but he stops himself, nods. Steve runs off to go get the tape. It’s exactly where it was earlier, thank god. He brings it back to the counter, pretends to blow dust off of it. “Special. Keep it safe.” He hands it to Eddie.
“I promise with my life.”
“For your eyes only,” he says firmly.
Eddie’s cheeks are still pink, he nods. “‘F course.” He turns it over gingerly to read the label, peeks sneakily like it might say STEVE MASTURBATION VIDEO on the side. He laughs when he sees it. “Sounds great,” he says. He winks.
“Let me know what you think,” Steve says. His heart is racing, and he knows this whole thing is crazy, but it also seems fine. Like handing a cute guy a tape of him jacking off is a normal thing to do. And thinking a guy is cute is something he’s done before, plenty of times. And it’s a common occurrence for him to kind of get turned on by the fact that the guy looks flushed and excited, holding his sex tape in his hands. All fine and normal things, by Steve Harrington standards. (Not. But again, somehow. It’s fine.)
Eddie sticks it in his messenger bag, drums his rings on the counter. “I’ll let you know,” he says, bright eyes staring right into Steve’s. “Soon.”
Steve feels himself blushing, now. Robin slowly stretches back up, regaining her height.
“I’m back,” she says. “I heard nothing.”
“Great,” Steve says.
“Gotta go,” Eddie says. “Have to grade a final project.”
Steve snorts, and Robin looks confused. “Like, for DnD?” she asks.
Eddie grins crazily and shakes his head. He wiggles his fingers goodbye and leaves.
“I guess we’re an adult video store now,” she sighs after he’s exited the building.
Steve eyes her. “I thought you didn’t see or hear any of that?”
“Oh, right,” she says. “I’m glad you had a wholesome film to recommend to our loyal customer.”
“That’s more like it,” Steve says. He breathes in a big breath, and blows it out. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m a freak.”
Robin pats him on the arm. “I don’t think he does, but I do.”
“Thanks, Rob,” he says, and pats her arm back. This turns into a small slapping fight, which turns into giggles and both of them on the floor behind the counter.
The bell on the door rings, and they both pop up immediately. “Welcome to Family Video!” they say in unison. The guy screams, startled.
—-
One day, the tape is in the returns bin with a folded-up piece of paper rubberbanded to it. Steve’s heart thuds when he sees it. Shit. Fuck.
He plucks it out of the bin, takes the rubber band and paper off of it, and puts the tape in his backpack. He is terrified to read the note, but he has to do it right now. The front of the paper says “final project grade + comments.” Steve doesn’t remember ever seeing Eddie’s handwriting before, but it’s a boyishly cute scrawl.
He unfolds it.
STEVE,
Good god, dude. First of all, you get an A. I’m not ashamed to admit I blew my load before you even got your boxers off. Sorry. That was the first time I watched it. The second time I got all the way through. Same with the fourth and fifth. I will not describe the third. Um. You’re sexy. I think the fact that you allowed me to see you like that gives me permission to say that to you. I admire your bravery, your legs, cock, and chest hair. Please accept this praise and gratitude, and let me give one note: more sounds next time. Maybe zoom in a little. All in all, perfect. No notes. Wait, I did give notes. And this piece of paper is a note. Anyway. Whatever. Brain a little fried from jackin’ it.
-EDDIE
Steve feels like he has ascended. He feels like he’s been punched. He reads the note what feels like twenty times. Holy hell. Is this what life can be like? He wants to leap between rooftops.
He calms down, eventually.
—-
The following day, there’s another caseless tape in the returns bin, with another rubberbanded note attached. Steve looks at the label on the side. It says “SCREEN TEST.”
The note is in Eddie’s handwriting.
STEVE (IF ROBIN, STOP READING AND IMMEDIATELY BRING NOTE + TAPE TO STEVE)
this is mine. I think Robin told you about it. You do not have to watch this. Please don’t share it around. In the video, a guy gives me a blowjob, and I ejaculate on his face. He told me he did not care if I shared it. I am letting you know what’s in it ahead of time so that (1) you can decide not to watch and (2) you know what to expect if you do watch. I find it turns me on greatly to think about you watching it, but I realize seeing another guy suck me off might be weird for you. If you’re interested, press play. NO offense taken if not.
xo EDDIE
Fuck.
—-
Steve watches it, of course.
He’s already half-hard putting the tape in the VCR, thinking about Eddie’s note. Steve decides not to think deeply about this. He’s nervous, worried about what he’s going to see, but excited.
He presses play, scoots up onto his bed, gets comfortable. Tries to push down any feelings.
The angle is kind of surprising. It’s from high up, like up on a bookshelf, looking down at Eddie’s bed. Eddie’s stretched out on the comforter, fully clothed. His hair is wild, spread across the pillow, and he’s biting the flesh of his thumb and looking at the camera, like he’s unsure or turned on or both. Steve bites his lip. Eddie closes his eyes, sucks his thumb into his mouth. Really sucks it. Steve’s body feels like it’s vibrating. He’s hard. He likes watching Eddie with his thumb in his mouth. Gets a flash of Eddie’s tongue. Steve teases his lips with his own thumb.
On screen, Eddie undoes his jeans, slides them down his legs, kicks them to the floor. Does the same with his boxers. His cock is hard, thick, shiny, it bobs up, grazes the hem of his t-shirt. Steve can’t look away.
Eddie’s thumb goes back to his mouth and his other hand toys with the hem of his shirt, scratches at his lower belly, the hair there. Cups his balls. He doesn’t touch his dick, just gently grazes his pubes with his thumb. He’s being coy, and it’s working. He glances over to his left and a guy enters the frame, kneels onto the bed. Frames Eddie’s hips with his knees, and Steve can’t see Eddie’s cock anymore and he doesn’t like it. He watches the guy’s back as he takes off his shirt, and helps Eddie with his.
The guy leans back down and kisses Eddie, and crawls backward, kissing or biting down Eddie’s chest, leaving wet, pink marks that fade quickly. Steve can see that Eddie looks relaxed, and while the guy is kissing him his lips part in pleasure and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. It’s hot. It’s pretty quiet, but Steve can hear the sounds of the guy sucking kisses into Eddie’s skin, and the catch in his breathing. Steve shifts in his seat on the bed. He’s so hard. He doesn’t want to touch himself yet, wants to see where this goes. Doesn’t want to think about how hot he’s getting watching Eddie feel good like this.
Finally, the guy scoots back far enough that Steve can see Eddie’s dick again, and Eddie has his hand wrapped around it, stroking lightly, thumbing the tip. The guy bends down and—the angle is weird for a blowjob, Steve thinks, because all he can see is the back of the guy going down on him and Eddie, stretched out. He thinks it might be nice to see the actual cock-sucking. But he wasn’t the director. It’s not his short film.
The guy blows Eddie, and Steve can’t be disappointed for too long because Eddie fists his hand in the guy’s hair and holds him down, squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip, throws his head back and pants. It sounds so wet, and Eddie says something that Steve can’t make out. He considers rewinding to try to catch it, but Eddie keeps talking and Steve can’t get himself to pause it.
“Yeah, baby, like that,” he pants. “You can take it. You got it. Fuck yeah.” It zaps Steve like lightning. The guy sucking him off moans around his cock.
“Your mouth feels so fuckin’ good,” Eddie says. “Wanna live in here, fuck, make me feel good all the time.” Steve blinks against his instantly-ratcheted horniness. Eddie is just saying shit, but like. Jesus. Steve squeezes his dick, desperate. Starts stroking himself.
“Doing so good,” Eddie groans, and the guy whines. “Yeah? You like having your mouth full of my cock? Like taking me? You can do more,” Eddie says, and the hand in the guy’s hair flexes, pushes him down further. “Oh my god,” he groans. Steve can hear the guy breathing hard, groaning in the back of his throat. Steve’s going to come soon, it’s so much. The noises, Eddie’s voice, what he’s saying…
“Shit—fff, take it, baby, gonna make me come like that, you’re so good, so—ss…” and Eddie pulls the guy’s head up, comes on his face. Steve wants to see it so bad, wants to come looking at Eddie’s mess, and the guy finally leans back enough that Steve can see it on his cheek, see the guy licking it off his bottom lip. Steve comes hard, more loudly than he usually does. His vision goes, but when it comes back, he sees the last shot of the movie, where it’s stopped at the end. Eddie looks fucked-out, flushed, his dick is wet and flopped across his upper thigh.
Fucking hell.
Steve is going to not think about what happened and eat some cereal. He’ll deal with things later.
—-
He has a hard time deciding whether or not to return the video to Eddie as soon as possible. He brings it to work, but Eddie doesn’t show, and he brings it back home. Watches it again. Kind of doesn’t want to give it back just yet.
He doesn’t think Robin knows that he’s seen Eddie’s tape, and he doesn’t want to tell her, not really. But when Eddie does finally come back, a week later, he gives Steve this look that apparently tells Robin everything she needs to know. She disappears with a cartoonish noise.
“Hey,” Steve says. He plops his elbow on the counter, rests his chin in his hand, tries to keep his face normal.
“Hey,” Eddie says.
“Um,” Steve says, and Eddie’s blushing, a little.
“Did you—?” Eddie asks.
Steve bites his lip, nods. “Sorry, I didn’t write a note.”
Eddie looks sheepish, like he both does and doesn’t want to know what Steve thought. “That bad?” he asks.
Steve raises his eyebrows. “No, no. Nooo. I’m. Uh. I liked it." He huffs a laugh. "Like, seven times.” Eddie laughs too. “I actually didn’t bring it to work today, since you haven’t been here. I’m sure you want it back.”
“Take your time,” Eddie says. “I don’t need it anytime soon.”
Steve wonders why or when he would need it, anyway. Not that he wants to keep it. He just still doesn’t have the answer to this question.
“You could…come pick it up? Or I could bring it to you?” Steve says. He says it not thinking what it might sound like, what he might be offering, but Eddie blushes again, laughs, and Steve covers his face with his hand. “Uhhh,” he says, embarrassed. Thing is, he wouldn’t mind Eddie coming over. Or going over to Eddie’s.
“Sure,” Eddie says. “No, that sounds good. Which would you prefer?”
Steve feels hot. “I don’t know. Come over? My parents have been away.”
Eddie grins, huge. His hand comes up and squeezes Steve’s wrist, briefly, where it’s still supporting his head on the counter. It’s the first time Eddie’s ever touched him, and it feels like an electrical fire. “Okay.”
Steve straightens up. “Tonight?” he says, biting the inside of his lip. He’s all tingly.
Eddie nods, looking mildly surprised, and very pleased. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. I’ll come see you.” He slaps the counter, turns around. He takes a few steps toward the door, and then looks back at Steve, grins at him. He turns again and walks out.
Steve lets out a huge breath.
“Fuck,” he sighs.
“Absolute insanity,” Robin says in awe, somehow behind him again. “I knew it.”
“Do. Not. Speak,” Steve says.
“Sorry, milord,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You going to fuck Eddie Munson?”
He whips around, hands up like he’s going to karate chop her. She giggles wildly and kicks him in the shin.
“Ow,” he says, hopping on the other leg. “That kinda hurt.”
“Sorry, mi-baby,” she says, and he can’t help but laugh.
—-
Eddie knocks on the door at 7:04 PM. Steve is watching the clock. He has the tape on the coffee table, ready to give it back first thing, in case Eddie doesn’t actually want to like, uh, hang out or whatever.
“Hi,” Eddie says breathlessly when Steve opens the door.
“Hi. Come in,” Steve says, and lets him in. He leads him to the couch, and they sit on opposite sides, backs against the armrests, facing each other. He leans down, grabs the tape. “Here you go,” he says.
Eddie laughs, takes it, sets it back on the coffee table. “Thanks.”
“Do you need anything? Water? Soda?”
Eddie shakes his head. “No thanks.” They look at each other, not sure what to expect. “I’m glad you liked it,” Eddie says finally, nodding his head in the direction of the videotape.
Steve bites down a smirk. “I’m glad you liked mine,” he says.
Eddie blinks at him, smiles softly. “Who’d you make it for?” he asks, curious.
Steve frowns. “No one in particular,” he says. “Well, me, I guess. To see what it was like.”
Eddie nods. “And what was it like for you?” he asks, his voice suddenly lower.
Steve swallows. “Um,” he says. “I liked it. I thought…well, it felt hot that someone might want to see it. See me.”
“Mm,” Eddie agrees. “It was hot, Steve.”
Steve’s face burns, and his stomach jolts with arousal. “Yours—um. Was really hot, too. I know I already said that, kinda, but.”
Eddie settles into the couch more, turns a bit more towards Steve. One of his legs is down with his foot on the floor and the other is bent, knee up, foot on the cushion, and he lets his knee fall open a little. “You ever seen something like that before? Two guys?” he asks, voice still low.
Steve shakes his head.
“What about a guy and a girl?” he asks.
Steve nods, shrugs. “Like, soft-core pornos, I guess.”
“You like watching people fucking?” Eddie asks, and Steve notices Eddie’s hand resting on his own thigh, thumb grazing the inner seam of his jeans, back and forth.
“Sometimes,” he says quietly. “Do you?” he asks.
“Sometimes,” Eddie says, in the same tone as Steve. Steve watches Eddie’s thumb stroking himself, just lightly, and it makes him feel buzzy and hot. Eddie’s watching his face. He bites his lip, looks away.
“Who’d you make your video for?” Steve asks, voice hoarse for some reason.
Eddie looks back at him, shrugs. “Just thought it would be sexy,” he says. He keeps stroking his inner thigh, and his hand travels up just an inch or so. Steve can’t stop watching. It looks like he’s pressing in a little harder now, actually teasing himself, and Steve feels like his heart is going to stop. He’s almost fully hard in his sweatpants, and the image of Eddie with his hand on his cock flashes in his mind. He has to close his eyes.
“What are you thinking about, Steve?” Eddie asks in that low, sexy voice.
Steve has to let out a sigh through his nose to try to compose himself. “Nothing,” he whispers.
“Lying,” Eddie teases, still fucking rubbing himself, even closer to his cock, now.
He rolls his eyes. “You,” he grits out. He squeezes a handful of his sweatpants. “Okay?”
Eddie laughs softly. “That’s not it,” he says. His thumb stops. He runs his hand up his leg, up to his stomach, rucks up his t-shirt and runs his fingertips across his stomach, just lazily teasing himself, not even really looking like he’s doing it for Steve, just doing it like it feels good and he wants to.
“You--touching yourself,” Steve amends, frowning, irritated by how horny he is now. “Like you’re doing now, and like you did—in the video.” He shifts his hips on the couch, trying to get some kind of relief on his hard dick.
“That’s better,” Eddie purrs. He keeps touching himself, slides his hand up into his shirt, and back down, over his hip bone. “I really like you watching me,” he says, and finally runs his hand over his cock, which is clearly hard.
Steve sucks in a breath. It suddenly occurs to him that Eddie might jerk off on the couch, make him watch, not even let him touch. And he does want to touch. Wants to see Eddie looking like it feels so good, and it’s because of Steve’s hands or Steve’s mouth.
“Will you watch me, Steve?” he asks. Steve nods, mouth open, because of fucking course he will, but he hopes desperately that that won’t be all.
Eddie unbuttons his pants, unzips, shimmies them off. They fall to the floor. His one leg goes back up so that his foot’s on the couch, knees spread. He cups himself over his boxers, hips twitching up. He runs his hand under the waistband, hissing when he finally touches his cock. Steve’s dick jerks and his own hips twitch. He watches.
Eddie strokes himself with his hand in his boxers for a bit, and then slides them down. He leans forward to drop them on the floor and holds his hand out to Steve. “Spit,” he says. Steve’s brain fuzzes out and his cock twitches hard. Fuck. He’s almost drooling anyway, so he spits a huge glob into Eddie’s cupped hand. “So good for me,” Eddie purrs, and Steve’s vision blacks out for a second as Eddie leans back, strokes his cock with Steve’s saliva dripping down.
“Oh my god,” Steve breathes.
Eddie grins at him. “Yeah?” he says. “Fuck, so hot,” he whines. “You’re so hot.”
Steve doesn’t know why but that makes him blush. Eddie’s the one jacking off on the couch and he’s calling Steve hot.
“I wanna come for you,” Eddie says. “Want you to watch me come.”
“Mm,” Steve agrees. He wants to see that, too. If Eddie’s not going to let him touch, he at least wants to feel Eddie’s come, wants him to drip all over him, warm and slippery. “Can I—will you—?” He stops, he doesn’t know how to say it. Eddie keeps stroking, speeds up like he likes that Steve’s talking to him.
“What do you want, babe,” he breathes, hand still working himself. “I gotta know or I can’t help you.”
Steve groans. How is Eddie so good at this shit? He’s never been with a girl who talked like Eddie does and it’s really fucking doing it for him.
“Ummm,” he says, mind fuzzy. He groans, hips bucking up into the air. He still hasn’t touched himself, isn’t sure he’s supposed to. “Let me finish you,” he says, finally finding enough clarity to decide that’s what he wants. “Please.” Eddie hisses.
“Oh, Jesus, gonna fucking—” he hisses again, slowing himself. “Okay, shit,” he says. “Fuck. Okay.” He eyes Steve’s groin and squeezes his cock. “Yeah.” He keeps going, looks Steve right in the eyes. “Feels so good, can’t wait to feel you,” he says hoarsely. Steve closes his eyes. “Open,” Eddie says. “Watch.”
Steve opens his eyes, looks right into Eddie’s. It feels so intense, and he feels insane for not grabbing his own dick. Just keeps squeezing and shifting, trying to get some friction and pressure. “Can I?” he breathes. “Can I touch myself, Eddie?” he asks.
Eddie blows out a breath. “Baby, if you do that, you won’t get to finish me,” he says. “I’d come in a second.”
“Fuck,” Steve says, and forgets immediately, presses the heel of his palm into his cock.
“Fff-” Eddie stops his hand. “Don’t,” he says, and then resumes. Steve feels sufficiently chastised, and insanely turned on. He gets onto his knees, keeps watching, crawls towards Eddie. It looks like he’s close to coming, and he hopes Eddie will tell him when to touch him.
“Kay,” Eddie pants. “Yeah, yeah, now,” he grunts, and Steve spits into his hand and grasps Eddie’s hot, straining cock, strokes him once, twice, and Eddie shouts, shooting come onto his shirt, onto Steve’s hand. Steve keeps going, lets the come drip down so he can use it to stroke him, goes until Eddie pants hard and fast and puts a hand on his wrist.
He’s breathing so fast, and Steve can hear his heartbeat. He wants desperately for it to be his turn, and puts his wet slippery hand into his pants, gropes himself.
“I’m—” he says, and strokes himself hard, fast. Eddie opens his eyes to watch, still coming down, and Steve comes soon, so soon, spilling into his boxers, swearing. He collapses onto Eddie, smushes a surprised gasp out of him.
“God damn,” Eddie sighs.
“Um,” Steve says intelligently when he’s able to talk again.
Eddie snorts.
“This was not the intended purpose of my video,” Steve says, face smushed into Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie shakes him and he lifts his head.
“Wasn’t a bad outcome though, right?” he says, looking him in the eyes.
Steve laughs. He plops his head back down, mouths at Eddie’s t-shirt. Realizes they haven’t kissed, and is that some kind of guy thing, to not even kiss before you make each other come? Realizes also that they made each other come multiple times before today, even. Wants to kiss Eddie. Is surprised at the thought, but not. He kisses him through his shirt, on the shoulder, the chest. Eddie shakes him up again.
“Come here,” he says, raising his chin a little. Steve eyes him, then kisses him on the mouth, gently, tentatively, and then deeper. Eddie groans in his throat. “I'm fucked,” he says when Steve pulls away.
“No kidding,” Steve says against his cheek. Eddie laughs.
They’re quiet, both thinking. Steve thinks about the videos, about what’s next. About Robin. About all the new things he might have ahead of him.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Steve says. “A regular one?”
Eddie laughs, and Steve feels the rumble in Eddie’s chest through his cheek. “Sure,” he says.
Steve rolls off of him, goes to change his sweatpants. Brings Eddie back a towel. They watch Kramer vs. Kramer, and Eddie actually ends up loving it.
___
end