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thisapplepielife · 3 months

Text

Secret Santa

Written for the Second Annual Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair.

Prompt: Office Party | Word Count: 6025 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ Only | Tags: Steddie, Steve POV, The Office AU, Office Setting, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Bathroom Sex, Mutual Assisted Masturbation, Holiday Party, Secret Santa, Background Jancy, Secret Relationship, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, Eddie & Gareth Friendship

Can also be read right here on Ao3.

This definitely has vibes borrowed from The Office. If you're familiar with that, you can picture Steve's desk as in the same location as Jim's.

Steve slumps behind his computer monitor at his desk, trying to make himself as small as possible. It's days like today that he really wishes their office had private cubicles instead of an open floor plan, because that'd actually give him somewhere to hide. As it is, with all of them out in the open, it means he's a sitting duck. No flimsy temporary wall to crouch down behind, no nothing at all between him and the horror that is lurking on the other side of the room.

And right now, he really wants somewhere to hide. But unless he wants to crawl under his desk, the room really doesn't offer much protection.

Honestly, he usually doesn't mind their setup at all. He likes the openness of it. He likes to see his coworkers all day. His friends. He likes to be able to talk, and yeah, to avoid work. He's nosy. He wants to see what insanity everyone else is up to every day. That always gives Robin and him things to gossip about later, and that's one of their favorite pastimes. He can look over at Robin behind the receptionist desk, and they can have long conversations with each other, using just their eyes.

They can talk about a cute new girl (or guy, if Steve's the one looking) that's been hired. They can bitch about stupid policy changes. Or a co-worker being a fool. Anything, everything.

But not today.

Today, Steve scoots down further in his chair, hoping that maybe he can make himself totally invisible, if he just wishes for it hard enough.

Because right this minute, Nancy's on the party planning warpath, and he wants no part of it. Party planning isn't anything he's ever been good at, well, beyond hosting a few laidback keggers as a teen, he supposes. Those all went as expected. But office parties? No way. That fact should be obvious to all of them after they forced him onto the party planning committee back in August, and his choices just made them all clutch their pearls.

Steve didn't know that even though there's a full list of silly, made-up holidays to choose from each month, apparently not all of those days are actually on the Nancy-approved list. Steve definitely didn't know that was an unspoken rule for the monthly morale party, so for August, he picked Work Like a Dog day, and convinced half of the office to show up in dog costumes.

Nancy Wheeler didn't find it funny. At all.

That's okay, Steve thinks it was hilarious.

If it wasn't actually an option for a party theme, then they shouldn't have put it on the goddamn list.

And what the fuck does it matter, anyway? Honestly. The monthly staff party is just an excuse to have cake, punch, and thirty minutes longer for lunch. Nobody really wants to attend these office parties, anyway. Might as well make them a little more unpredictable, a little more fun.

The theme can't possibly matter. It's all bullshit.

But now, here they are in December, and this is the annual holiday party they're talking about. Not a random monthly party. Oh no, this is the big one. The one that takes place after hours.

And to Nancy, and the rest of the party planning committee, it matters.

A lot.

So, Steve's hiding. Like a coward.

"You're such a coward," Steve hears from across his desk, a low, taunting hiss pointed in his direction.

He doesn't look in the direction of the voice, because he's smart enough to not fuck this up with any sudden movements. He's aiming for invisible, after all, but he can't resist slowly raising his hand, flipping Eddie off in slow motion.

Eddie laughs, so Steve knows the message landed, loud and clear, even if Steve never looked in his direction.

Fuck him for reading Steve's mind. Of course he's being a coward, but there's no reason to announce that fact. That's just rude.

Steve and Eddie share space, in their little group of desks. Steve sits on the end, and then there's two desks facing each other in front of him. Eddie is to his right, and it's really not so bad. Steve's had some weird fucking deskmates over the years, so much so, that having Eddie Munson at his side has been a breath of fresh air in comparison. A relief, even. Eddie's just loud, and messy.

Steve can handle loud and messy, even if Eddie's shit is apt to spill over onto Steve's desk most days, crowding him out of his own space. Steve can hold his client binder on his lap. That's no problem. Hell, he doesn't even get all that mad when Eddie gets too loud and gets them both disapproving looks. At least it's always fun while it's happening.

Gareth sits on the left, right across from Eddie, and right now he's slid down so far in his chair that he's practically under their desks, just like Steve. Smart kid, he's learning.

Steve dares to glance over and see what's happening across the room.

Nancy is leaning over Jonathan's desk, and Argyle is making faces behind her back. Nancy has eyes in the back of her head, so she definitely knows he's doing it, and Argyle is just asking for trouble. He's gonna get put on the party planning committee if he isn't careful. Which, Steve supposes, is a way better outcome than him getting recruited.

Nancy has her hand resting on Jonathan's shoulder as she talks to him, ignoring Argyle completely.

Steve isn't supposed to know that Jonathan and Nancy have been sneaking around the office, fucking in all the secluded corners of the warehouse, with far less stealth than they think they have. He doesn't blame them. He knows they don't want to go to HR and fill out the paperwork informing the company about their relationship.

Steve gets that. Because he also feels like it's none of the company's business who he fucks on his own time, and definitely wouldn't volunteer that information up willingly, either. None of them ever want to go deal with Murray for anything at all if they can help it. He asks far too many personal questions. It's always uncomfortable, and best to be avoided at all costs.

However, Steve thinks it's mighty funny that Nancy Wheeler, the rule-follower that she likes to pretend she is, is currently breaking them left and right. It honestly makes him like her even more.

And he does like her. Don't get him wrong, just not on party planning weeks. During those weeks, she's the enemy and must be wholly treated as such.

"Steve," Steve hears his name, a hushed whisper, and he turns to look at Robin sitting behind the reception desk.

He waves her off with a small hand movement. He needs to make sure Nancy has settled on haranguing Jonathan and Argyle before he dares to stick his neck out in the open.

Before Steve can say anything back to Robin, The Boss comes out of his office behind Steve's back, clapping his hands together for attention, and they all turn to look in his direction.

Bob Newby is kind of a goofball, and just a little bit doofy, but he's well-meaning. At least Steve's pretty sure he is. He doesn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. As far as bosses go, they could all do way worse.

"Hey there," Bob says, clapping his hands together again, "I told Nancy to make the holiday party this year a big one. A fun one. A special one. And to do that, Steve's gonna help her. Right, Steve?"

Well, Steve wants to strangle Bob, now. Well-meaning, his ass. He's not only mean, he's evil. He's a filthy traitor that Steve would feed to wolves given half a chance after this utter betrayal.

But Steve nods, because he's not actually gonna tell Bob no. It's not worth the pitiful face he'll get in return. Eddie is laughing, and if Steve gets the angle right, he's pretty sure he can kick Eddie in the shin under their desks without even looking.

He hits the mark and Eddie hisses at the blow, and Steve bites back a smile. Eddie had that coming, the asshole.

Then Steve has a better idea, a meaner idea, and he sits up straighter in his chair, and turns and looks right at Eddie, pointedly, "Yeah, and Eddie offered to help me!"

If looks could kill, he'd be dead, but Eddie gets what he deserves. If he wants to be a jerk, he can just help Steve out with planning this shitshow.

Bob is pleased at this though, and announces, "Great! Just don't pick anything scary, guys. I hate scary."

Steve grins, wide. That's a directive for Eddie, not him, and it amuses Steve greatly.

"Got it. Yeti and Krampus are out," Eddie says, with fake sincerity.

Chrissy squeals with delight that they are both actually willing to help with this party. Willing is definitely a stretch of the imagination, but Steve and Eddie both smile at her. She's sweet, and Steve knows Eddie will do anything she asks him to, because he's that wrapped around her little finger.

That's okay, Steve's just as wrapped around Robin's, if not more, so he can't really throw any stones in Eddie's direction about that.

Steve nods, and gives Chrissy a tight smile. They'll make this work. It looks like they have to, since they definitely lost this round of office politics.

Nancy is glaring in their direction, suspicious, "Well, fine. We'll just have to plan for every possible disaster with you two in charge."

"Hey! The dog party was a barking success," Steve yells at her, and she huffs and spins around away from him. Annoyed.

He smiles, and looks over at Eddie, and he's smiling back.

Maybe this won't be the end of the world after all.

Later, after the dust has settled, Steve leans on Robin's desk, looking down at her, disapproving. He's eating his lunch standing up at her desk, both of them sharing what they have, passing things back and forth.

Looking across the office, Steve can see into the break room, and Eddie is sitting at the closest table to the windows with Chrissy, both of them digging around in his metal lunchbox. They can leave for lunch, and sometimes they do, but most of the time they all just pack lunches and hang around. Sometimes, they'll all chip in and do a group order, running out to pick up burgers or pizza, but that takes advance planning, and that isn't exactly Steve's strong suit.

Eddie is digging around in his lunchbox, and Steve wonders what Eddie has packed in there today, pretzels, maybe a sand-

"Focus, dingus. I tried to warn you," Robin hisses, and his attention is drawn away from Eddie and his mystery lunch, when Robin taps her hand on the counter in front of him.

Steve turns to look back at her, glaring. She's his best friend, but right now, she's definitely the enemy as Bob's secretary. She could have stopped this if she'd wanted to, he's absolutely sure of it.

"You're on the party planning committee," he accuses, "and you have Bob's ear. Why didn't you make this go away for me?"

She wrings her hands, "I tried! Bob liked your dog party!"

Well, Steve has to laugh at that. That's what he gets for being smartass, he supposes. He tried to poke Nancy with a stick so he'd never have to have a turn at party planning ever again, and inadvertently just ended up coming across as a fun party planner to Bob.

Goddamnit. That was not the desired effect he'd been hoping for.

So, now he's stuck. And this is his own fault, it seems. But at least he took Eddie down with him. That's the silver-lining, for sure.

Steve will make it work. It's only a week of hell. He can survive a week.

"Trust me, we tried. None of us wanted you in charge again," Robin snaps.

"Hey!" Steve shouts back, offended, and she just laughs.

"Seriously. Nancy has standards, expectations, and dog parties aren't part of the playbook."

Steve smiles, "Well, I guess I should be left off any committees from now on."

"No such luck," Robin snarks, "but Nancy, Chrissy, Barb and I will definitely make sure whatever you two try to plan isn't dog party levels of weird."

"Gee, thanks. If you want to micromanage it, why don't you just do it yourselves? Wouldn't that just be easier for everyone involved?"

Robin shrugs, "Just make Bob happy. It's Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah," and Steve glances back, looking for Eddie again, and now he's sitting there playing finger football with Gareth as Chrissy watches. Both of them flicking a paper triangle back and forth across the break room table, trying to hit field goals through each other's finger goal posts.

That's about the extent of any sports that either one of them has ever played, Steve's pretty damn sure.

Gareth, the new kid, started a while back, and Eddie took to him immediately. Steve has tried not to be jealous. But it was hard. He still kind of wanted Eddie and his attention all to himself, as selfish as that sounds.

But he's had to learn to share, both Eddie and their desk space with Gareth, and he's watched as Eddie has tried hard to shape Gareth into a good salesman.

Robin's desk phone rings, and she picks it up, and he takes that as his cue to walk away. He heads towards the break room, and leans in the doorway, watching them play.

"I've got winner," Chrissy says, "but you can take on the winner of that match, if you want."

Steve nods and smiles, and walks on in, sliding into the only remaining chair left at the table.

When four-thirty rolls around, Bob comes over and sends Steve and Eddie off to start planning this party they are now in charge of together. At least they get a half-hour of paid nonsense time, Steve guesses.

So, now they sit in the empty meeting room at the long table, and just look at each other.

Finally, Eddie breaks the silence.

"Okay, smart guy, what's your big plan this time? Cat party?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow, challenging Steve.

"Yep. Pussy party," Steve says, deadpan, and Eddie tosses his head back and laughs, hair flying.

Work has definitely been more entertaining since Eddie Munson showed up last year, all long-hair and lackadaisical attitude. Eddie doesn't conform to any sort of standard expectations, won't, but he can sell like a motherfucker. He has a silvertongue that Steve only wishes he possessed. Steve can sell, too. But he has to lean heavily on being earnest. That's his angle.

But it's not Eddie's. No, Eddie can just bullshit his way through sales with anyone on the fly, easily meeting his quota and walking away with a damn good commission check every payday, and that hardly seems fair. Steve's been here forever, but Eddie took to it so much quicker.

"Pussy hats for everyone, and the party favors? Pocket pussies," Eddie states, still exploring this party idea with a shit-eating grin, and it makes Steve giggle.

If only.

Though, this still might be fun to plan together, even if that can't actually be the theme. Nancy would murder them both.

They better do something safe, like Secret Santa. Bob always likes that, and this is really for him more than it is the staff, Steve's pretty damn sure.

They can just go traditional, make everyone happy and save themselves a lot of grief.

That doesn't mean they won't sit here and bullshit, like they are really talking this thing through in great detail.

"Secret Santa? That's the theme?" Robin asks later, clearly disappointed.

"Classic. Easy peasy," Steve says, leaning on the tall counter that runs around her desk. He's waiting for her to finish up so they can leave together.

Tonight, they're all going to happy hour at Chili's. They do that from time to time. Most of the office meeting up after work to drink and let loose.

"Lazy, uninspired," she taunts, and he reaches out like he's going to flick her ear, but she dodges his hand, laughing. "Bob's gonna be disappointed in you."

"He won't. He'll love it," Steve says, and Robin knows it. She's just being difficult. "Will you make up the slips so we can draw names, or not?" he asks, trying to give her the eyes. They don't really work on her, not anymore. But he still tries.

"Fine, but this is not fun. I was expecting dog party levels of unhinged theming from you both. You disappoint me."

"You love me," Steve counters.

"Of course I do, dingus. Now leave me alone so I can finish up and we can get the fuck out of here."

He presses his hands together, bowing to her, just a little, and then heads back to his desk. Eddie is still on the phone, wheeling and dealing, like a pro.

Making money, even after hours.

Asshole.

Gareth is sitting at their desks, watching Eddie with wide eyes.

"He's good, right?" Steve asks, and Gareth nods. "It's okay if it's hard to make sales, especially at first. It's hard for all of us, except Eddie. But he's a freak."

Eddie hears him, and sticks his tongue out, not missing a beat of his phone call.

"You'll get better. I promise," Steve says, turning to look at Gareth.

Gareth nods again, and Steve smiles. Steve was probably not that much younger than him when he started working here, and it looks so young now, seeing it on Gareth. He never thought he'd still be here, all these years later.

But he's made friends here, good friends. His best friend. If he never worked here, he'd never have met Robin, and that'd be a goddamn tragedy.

And he met Eddie, so honestly, he doesn't have too many complaints.

Turns out, Nancy loves the Secret Santa theme, which Steve isn't surprised about. It's right up her alley. Normal, basic, a classic. No dog costumes to be found.

"What's the price limit?" she asks, holding her notepad in hand, and Steve looks at her. Is he supposed to decide that? He feels like that's a job for her, or maybe even Bob.

"Twenty-five dollars?" he offers, and she thinks about it for a minute, then nods, writing it in her notes, apparently agreeing with his assessment.

Great.

"And, is it a traditional Secret Santa where we draw names, or a white elephant situation?"

"Um, traditional?" he hazards a guess and she nods, happy. Apparently that was the right answer, again. He's on a roll today. Hot damn. Maybe he needs to buy a lottery ticket.

Steve sits at the high top table at Chili's, sharing an Awesome Blossom with Robin and drinking his third margarita. Eddie didn't show up. Steve is pretty sure he said he was coming, but now Eddie, Gareth, Chrissy, Jeff and Goodie are all no-shows.

That's okay.

But he would have gone home instead of coming himself if he knew Eddie was bailing. Not that he isn't enjoying spending time with Robin and everyone else, he is, but still.

He raises his finger, ordering one more drink. Robin's definitely gonna have to drive him home.

The next morning, Nancy drops off a list of party vendors for him to call, and Steve pushes it towards Eddie. He's the one with phone magic.

And Steve's a little hungover. Eddie's not.

Not to mention Steve's still a little mad at Eddie for deciding to skip happy hour without telling him.

"Hey, don't be pushing your chores off on me," Eddie says, pushing it back across the desk in Steve's direction.

They both push on the paper, in a stalemate, wrinkling it under their fingers.

Steve gives him the eyes, "C'mon. You know you'll have better luck. We'll get an awesome cake, and a great meat and cheese plate if you call. You know it."

"Which is ironic, because if the little old ladies working could see me, and then see you, it'd be you they'd be falling over themselves to please," Eddie says.

Steve rolls his eyes. Little old ladies love Eddie, at least after they look past his clothes and hair. He's too charming for them to not love him. He's got a chivalry that is innate, and Steve doesn't have that at all. He likes to think he's nice, but he's not as charismatic. The Harrington Charm is a different beast than whatever Eddie has going on, that's for damn sure.

Eventually, Eddie takes the paper, and picks up the handset of his phone, and starts dialing the first number, and Steve just grins, pleased.

He listens, and tries to ignore the dull headache that's plagued him all morning.

When Eddie hangs up the phone, he looks at Steve, "Shoulda came to Poor Richard's with us, like you said you would, and then you wouldn't have a hangover from all that chain restaurant cheap well tequila."

Steve glowers at him. They've been over this fifty times. Nobody said they were going to Poor Richard's last night. It was Chili's, and the fact that everyone else showed up at Chili's except for Eddie and his friends, is all the proof Steve needs.

Eddie didn't listen, and they ended up at different bars.

But Steve forgives him as he keeps making calls, and before long they have everything in order for next week's party.

And a week later, they all sit around in a circle of chairs like they're kindergarteners, which feels foolish. But Bob is clearly having fun, dressed in his full Santa suit, as he pulls the wrapped packages out of the bag and passes them around to their rightful owners.

It's fine. Lots of generic gift boxes. Hot cocoa samplers. Summer sausage and cheese gift sets. Blankets, mugs, candy. A foot bath. Just stuff. More things that nobody really needed, Steve's sure, but it makes Bob happy, so they all at least pretend to be excited about whatever they've gotten.

They all thank their Secret Santa, and it's all very normal. Boring. So boring.

But Steve has a plan for later that he thinks won't be quite as boring as this has been.

The gifts all opened, Steve holds open the plastic trash bag as Eddie picks up the wrapping paper off the chairs, the floor. Tidying up while the rest of the committee goes and starts getting the bar set up.

Steve isn't sure how Bob swung it, but they actually get to serve alcohol this year.

Jeff and Goodie volunteered to play bartender, and that's great with Steve. He was sure he'd get stuck doing it, with Eddie's help if he was lucky. But this is better. Way better. They'll be able to just enjoy themselves.

As soon as it's up and running, Steve and Eddie are first in line for a drink. Steve goes easy on them, but Eddie's trying to order things they definitely don't have the supplies for. The budget was limited and they decided to stick to the most popular basics.

Goodie listens to Eddie lists off his third try at an elaborate drink order, and then just pours Eddie a Jack and Coke.

"Just what I wanted," Eddie says, picking it up with a snarky grin.

They're a few drinks in, and the music has been turned up, when Steve nods towards Eddie, ready to slip away during the confusion. Steve shakes a wrapped gift in his hand, and Eddie quirks an eyebrow, curious, and follows him out into the hallway. They ride the elevator up one floor in silence, and then Steve leads Eddie into the empty bathroom on the floor right above their office space.

They can hear the thumpa thumpa of the music down below, feel it vibrating beneath their feet. Gareth and Argyle have teamed up to play DJ, and Steve is sure Nancy hates the music choices. They definitely aren't playing classic Christmas tunes, that's for damn sure.

Steve pushes the wrapped gift into Eddie's chest, and Eddie sits his drink down on the sink.

"What is this?" Eddie asks, looking down at the gift in his hands. He wasn't expecting it, clearly.

"Well, I didn't draw your name for the official Secret Santa, but I still wanted you to have your party favor," Steve says, trying to keep a straight face. This is a ridiculous thing to do. Especially at work. "Open it."

He watches while Eddie tears off the wrapping paper, throwing it onto the bathroom floor, and then Eddie's looking down at the fleshlight he's holding in his hands.

And he promptly blushes a deep crimson.

Holy shit.

Steve had no idea that Eddie could blush. Maybe this wasn't a great idea. Maybe he's about to lose his job for sexual harassment at work. At Christmas, no less.

Then, Eddie laughs. Loud and amused, eyes lighting up.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, I guess," Eddie says, turning over the toy in his hands, walking into the open stall. Steve follows.

"Not a sex toy guy?" Steve asks, crowding a little closer to him.

"Not a pussy guy," Eddie answers, then laughs, "I thought you knew that, Steve."

Yeah, Steve knew that. But he pretends he didn't.

"Oh no, do they make pocket assholes? Maybe we could exchange it, get you what you really like," Steve teases.

And Eddie grins, dimples showing, as he presses the toy back into Steve's chest, and Steve takes it.

"This one is just my favorite, and I thought you might like it," Steve says, looking Eddie right in the eye, standing nearly nose-to-nose in the cramped bathroom stall.

And Eddie is looking back at him, with an expression Steve can't really read. It looks like he's maybe surprised Steve is cool. Which is crazy. Steve's cool. Steve's been fucking guys since he was in college, girls even earlier than that. He's not really all that fussed about it. Boys, girls, both at the same time, once.

That was an interesting night, to be sure. Not one he expects to repeat anytime soon, but it's definitely an experience he's glad he had.

Steve holds the toy in his hand, studying it carefully, and then he looks up into Eddie's eyes.

"You wanna try it?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Now?" Eddie asks, dropping his voice low, sounding shocked at this suggestion.

Steve shrugs, and Eddie eventually nods, slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do that," Eddie says, putting both of his hands on Steve's arms, squeezing.

"Are you sure you want to do this here? I was just kidding," Steve asks, even if he wasn't, not really. But he still wants to make sure this is something Eddie is actually interested in doing with him, here and now, and not something he's pushing onto him like a big, fucking creep.

Eddie nods and smiles, so Steve presses him back against the wall of the bathroom stall, Steve's palm firm on Eddie's shoulder. He hands the fleshlight back to Eddie, and digs a packet of lube out of his pocket, handing that over, too.

Steve reaches for Eddie belt, his zipper, and carefully, slowly, undoes his pants. Pulling them down over his ass, boxers going down with them, and then he's just looking. Staring. Wanting.

Eddie's already drizzled lube into the opening of the fake silicone pussy, so Steve takes it from him. Steve doesn't touch Eddie's dick, although it's straining, red and flushed at the tip, begging for Steve's undivided attention.

And as much as Steve wants to give it that attention, wants to drop to his knees, throw the toy aside and suck Eddie's dick, he doesn't.

Instead, Steve grips the pocket pussy in his hand, and angles it, lining it up as best he can. He nods at Eddie, and holds it steady as Eddie pushes into it. Unsure at first, but after a few test thrusts, Steve feels the pressure, the force, behind the snap of Eddie's hips with every thrust. And Steve thinks about what it'd be like if it was him Eddie was pushing his dick into, instead of this toy.

His own dick is hard, so fucking hard, just watching this happen. He can't tear his eyes away. He watches Eddie's dick go in and out.

Eddie groans, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder, still moving his hips. Still fucking, still pushing his cock into the toy in Steve's hand. Again, and again.

Steve can't see now, but he can feel it. Can hear it.

It's noisy and loud, making a filthy, wet, squelching sound that sounds even more scandalous as they're hidden away in a public bathroom. Like they might get caught any second, doing this devious thing together.

Eddie winds his arms around Steve's back, and holds on tight. The action brings them even closer together, which is making it harder for Steve to maneuver his hand and the toy between their bodies, but Steve will make it work. He keeps a good grip on the fleshlight, making sure Eddie can keep moving his hips, keep pushing his dick into it, over and over again, even as he leans his weight on Steve.

"That pussy feel good?" Steve whispers, pressing his face into Eddie's hair. He smells good, and Steve leans into him.

Eddie whimpers, and nods against Steve's shirt, and Steve twists his hand, just a little, and Eddie moans.

"All pretty and pink, wet, begging for your cock," Steve whispers. "It's a pretty cock, you've got. You know that?"

He just yammering, and he's pretty sure Eddie isn't even listening. That's okay, Steve's happy to do the heavy lifting here.

"I bet it feels good. All tight, hugging your dick the whole way down.. Are you pretending it's a girl?" Steve asks, then lowers his voice, right next to Eddie's ear, "Or are you pretending it's me?"

Eddie's hips stutter, and then he pushes harder against Steve's hand.

"Steve," Eddie breathes out, and Steve smiles.

"I'd bend right over for you," Steve says, "beg you to push your cock in me."

Steve can tell by the change in Eddie's breathing that he's getting close to coming. Goddamn. That's a pretty sight and sound.

Steve's own dick is straining in his pants, wanting.

"Would you come inside me?" Steve asks, and that's it. Eddie groans, and pushes his dick into the toy as far as he can, coming. Steve presses his face in Eddie's hair, kissing the side of his head.

Eddie pulls back from Steve's body, and then slides his dick out of the toy with a sloppy, wet sound, and they both laugh. Steve looks down at Eddie's heavy cock, spent and wet, and wants. Wants to put his mouth on Eddie, wants to lick him clean.

He thinks he will, but Eddie interrupts his thoughts.

"You want sloppy seconds?" Eddie asks, and Steve nearly comes in his pants as he nods.

That's not something he had thought of, but he hands the toy to Eddie, and reaches for his own zipper. He pulls his neglected dick out, palms it, strokes it. It's so hard. Eddie's made him so fucking hard, so horny, he can't even think straight.

"Look at you, big boy," Eddie says, and he doesn't keep his hands to himself. He strokes Steve once, twice, and then helps guide him into the used toy.

It's still kind of warm inside, sloppy and wet with Eddie's come, and Steve feels like a deviant, but doesn't really give a fuck. Not really.

Because this is good.

So goddamn good.

Eddie presses his mouth to Steve's, and they kiss while Steve thrusts into the toy in Eddie's hand, and it's one of the dirtiest things he's ever done in his whole life.

Steve's just getting into a nice rhythm, when Eddie takes the toy away, and replaces it with his mouth. Goddamn, that's better. That's so much better.

Eddie pulls off, and looks up at him, "You taste like me."

Steve groans, letting his head fall back against the metal wall of the stall, closing his eyes as Eddie sucks his dick, then slides it back into the fleshlight, alternating. Dragging this out, extending it, and it's beyond anything he could have ever dreamed up.

He had a small idea, a basic one, and Eddie has taken that and crafted it into a fucking experience of a lifetime.

Steve tangles his hands in Eddie's hair, and looks down to meet Eddie's eyes, as he continues to work his cock, over and over.

"You gonna come in my mouth or in the pussy?" Eddie asks, hand stroking Steve's dick lazily, looking up at him for an answer. He wants both. How can he choose?

But if he doesn't choose, he's gonna come in Eddie's hand. Still good, but a distant third among the options available.

"Your mouth," Steve finally says.

"Good choice, Harrington," Eddie answers, and slides his mouth over Steve's dick again, and again, until Steve can't hold out any longer.

He comes right against Eddie tongue, and Eddie pulls off, looks up at him, and swallows.

Merry Fucking Christmas to him. Jesus.

They straighten their clothes, try to smooth out all the wrinkles, and Eddie takes a gulp of his now watered down whiskey sitting on the bathroom counter, swishing it in his mouth, and spitting into the sink.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Steve asks, holding the wet and freshly washed fleshlight in his hand.

"Take it home. Use it later and think of me," Eddie says, holding out the box Steve had wrapped it in.

Steve puts it back, and takes the box from Eddie's hands.

He'll do just that.

Eddie pushes him against the bathroom door, and kisses him again, and this is the best night of Steve's life, he's pretty goddamn sure.

They ride the elevator down, and when they're back in their own office, Steve shoves the now unwrapped box into his desk drawer and follows Eddie back towards the rest of their partying co-workers.

Their friends.

Eddie starts bouncing on his feet, dancing with Chrissy and Steve smiles as he watches. Everybody seems to be having fun, and Steve decides this was a success.

Later that night, long after the party had winded down, Steve crawls into bed at home, and curls into Eddie's side.

"Have fun tonight?" Steve asks, and Eddie runs his hand up and down Steve's arm.

"Yeah, I especially liked the part where my boyfriend acted like we've never fucked before," Eddie says, throwing his leg over Steve's hip.

"Very funny."

Eddie laughs, "We're gonna have to file our relationship with HR sooner or later. I'm pretty sure my poker face is horrendous, and they're gonna figure it out."

Steve nods. He knows. Though, he's pretty fucking everyone in the office knows already, anyway. Gareth clocked them his first week, not realizing it was a secret. So, it's obvious. Eddie loves him, and Eddie can't hide that look on his face, not at all. It makes Steve so fucking happy that Eddie feels that way about him, like he loves him so much that he can't pretend he doesn't.

That they love each other this much.

So, they're gonna have to fess up. That's okay, he doesn't actually give a shit. They aren't gonna fire him, and they definitely aren't gonna fire Eddie. He's unorthodox, but he brings in tons of cash and clients.

And they're just co-workers, there's nothing saying they can't be together.

"I can't believe you wrapped your pocket pussy and dragged it to work," Eddie laughs, burying his nose in Steve's hair.

Steve grins.

"Surprised you, though?" Steve asks, turning his head, to smile at Eddie.

"Definitely surprised me," Eddie answers, grinning right back.

Notes: Nancy seem familiar? Yeah, she was definitely inspired by Angela from The Office, with that party planning committee vibe, lol. I needed someone to be that character, and Nancy seemed more likely than Robin or Chrissy. And the "prepare for every possible disaster" line is a Angela-ism, from the S2 ep, as told by Ryan. I like to think Dwight, or a Dwight-like character, was Steve's deskmate before Eddie.

And Nancy and Jonathan's whole secret (Dwight and Angela style) relationship random mention was added just so I could accurately tag secret relationship, but that it might slip past that I was also referring to Steve and Eddie, lol. Could you have known they were together before Steve did the sex toy thing? For sure. Was it more fun for me to imagine, just for a second, that he was just being very forward and inappropriate with co-worker Eddie who wasn't expecting it? Of course.

Work Like a Dog day is August 5th if you want to add to your calendar, lol.

Bob! ❤️ I think this might be the first time I've had a place to use him in a fic.

Chili's and Poor Richard's were both shout-outs to The Office, many thanks to them for lending me their set-up for this fic. As soon as I chose this prompt, The Office, was the first idea in my head.

And trying to pin down the exact year this is set in made my head hurt. It must be, like, 1999. Then fleshlights exist, but cell phones aren't glued to our hands quite yet. But pussy hats are much more modern. But then Awesome Blossoms are discontinued. I don't know. It's an alternate universe. Go with it. 🤣

Thanks for reading! ❤️

#SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge #steddie #steddie ficlet #the office au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #christmas fic #holiday party #secret santa #thisapplepielife: short fic

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