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steddiejudas · 6 months

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November 2nd, No Touch/Watching

Steve can do this. All he needs to do is focus on just how annoying Eddie can be, and he can totally do this! There are dirty dishes all over the living room, empty water cups on his bedside table that he never takes to the sink in the morning. The bathroom is a mess of shed hair even though it seems like Eddie never even brushes it, and the sink is full of globs of toothpaste. Steve cleans up after him like a maid, and it’s one of the most annoying things about their relationship. Yet still all he can think about is dressing up in a little french maid costume to tease Eddie into ripping it off of him.

It’s only been a day.

Steve must be an idiot for thinking he could do this. It’s not like they put any money on the bet, or if they had, like Eddie would hold him to it. Since being cut off, Steve has learned his expensive hair products and cologne and even fucking groceries are just that: expensive. Eddie is a saint, putting up with him learning to use coupons and compare the price of things to the ounce to get the best deal just so he can afford his little taste of luxury. Steve will be damned if his parents cause him to lose the one thing he’s ever been known for that he was slightly okay with after high school. He once was and will always be ‘the hair’. Plus, the first time Eddie called him sweetheart was the result of his Sauvage cologne, loudly proclaiming “you smell like a dream, sweetheart!” So, you know, that’s a must.

But maybe, just maybe, if Eddie cracked first, Steve could get out of this whole thing without punishment (because if he’s being honest, he just knows there will be one). Maybe there really is something to the whole french maid costume idea. So Steve does the unthinkable. He dips into his change bowl. He’s been saving up his tips at the little diner he and Robin are working at these days in a little pinch pot Eddie made in a high school pottery class. Eddie tried to throw it away when they were packing up to move into their little apartment, but Steve clutched it close to his chest and said it was too beautifully done, surely a good luck charm. And maybe it was a projection of his subconscious, or maybe customers tipped better when he was happy, but Steve always brought home the most at the end of the night when he gave the pot a little kiss before leaving for his shift.

He has just enough in there for gas and a discounted costume from the Halloween store that's closing down soon in the next town over. Eddie texted to say he’ll be late, so he has plenty of time to make the half hour drive and hope to god there’s some kind of maid outfit left in the women’s section. He knows he’ll go unrecognized, and the employees probably don’t care what he’s buying at all, but he still wears a hat and ducks his head when he’s perusing the aisles. His eye catches exactly what he’s looking for. A short black dress with puffy sleeves and frilly white lace, a white apron that ties around the hips, a little black choker necklace with a bell, and a little headband with a half circle of lacy white fabric.

The cashier gives him a slightly bemused chuckle when he sets the costume on the counter, but rather than let the heat of embarrassment he feels rushing through him surface, he cocks a hip and settles into the familiarity of bitchiness.

“What?” he snaps, when it takes the cashier a beat longer than it should to scan a single item and read out his total.

The guy smirks and shakes his head. “Classic. Do you not recognize me or something? I saw you like a week ago, dude.”

The truth is Steve was refusing to meet his eye since the moment he stepped up to the counter, but now that the guy has said something, Steve recognizes those curls, that slightly boyish face, and, oh fuck. He’s standing in front of Gareth.

“Not a word Emerson.” Steve bites out, but he feels the tinge of red finally hit his cheeks.

“You know this won’t work, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, I was the one who brought up no nut November in the first place. And your facial expressions are not as subtle as you think they are. I could practically hear your thoughts about it the whole time, and I’m assuming Eddie made a bet with you as soon as you left.”

“Oh. Right. Just don’t tell him?”

Gareth hums noncommittally and tells Steve his total. Steve hands him the cash and awkwardly thanks him before grabbing the costume and running back to his car, lest he miraculously be spotted by anyone else he knows.

The interaction all but dissipates from his mind on the drive home, replaced by scenarios of what Eddie might do to him when he comes home to Steve in this outfit. Bend him over the kitchen counter, rip the lacie panties he’s wearing right off of him and blow his back out to oblivion. Steve’s face heats up in the silence of the drive home. He didn’t bother turning music on, too consumed by his own thoughts. His mind drifts all the way home, without something tangible to lock onto. He’s home before he knows it, rushing up the stairs to the apartment and throwing on the costume without a second’s hesitation. In total, the trip took him a little over an hour, so Eddie should be home any minute.

Steve busies himself pretending to dust Eddie’s minis on the bookshelf in the living room. They’re kept on the top shelf, so even with Steve’s height, he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach. The skirt rides up just over the plush of his thighs and exposes the black lace of his panties just as the front door opens.

“Honeyyy I’m hooome!” Eddie’s voice comes out in a delightful singsong, which fills Steve’s chest with warmth. It’s the same way Eddie always greets him, which, however sweet it may be, he was expecting a little more of a reaction if he’s totally honest.

Steve turns his head, hoping to find at least a smirk on Eddie’s lips. Something that shows he’s acknowledged Steve’s gift, but he’s not standing by the door anymore. His jacket and boots have been kicked off and left haphazardly in the middle of the floor and Eddie is in the kitchen… making himself a snack? Steve grumbles and walks over to the entrance, picking up the mess Eddie’s made in less than a minute, and tucking them away on the shoe rack and coat hook less than a foot away. Walking hurricane, Steve thinks.

Eddie hums a light tune from the kitchen. He hasn’t looked at Steve ONCE and he knows because his own eyes have been boring holes into the side of Eddie’s head since he walked in. Steve follows to the kitchen and does his best to gain Eddie’s attention. Steve grabs an arm and lifts it until he can slide between the counter and Eddie’s chest, their noses touching. Eddie can’t help his smile as he nuzzles Steve’s cheek.

“Hi princess. How was your day?” Sweet. Casual. Not at all what Steve was going for.

“It was fine. I spent the whole day cleaning up after you.”

“Oh really? The whole day, huh?” Eddie kisses the tip of Steve’s nose and goes back to spreading peanut butter across a piece of bread.

“Well, most of the day.” Steve steps out of his orbit now, walking across the kitchen to watch Eddie eat his pb&j. He folds his arms and honest to god pouts.

“Aw, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” Eddie finally looks Steve up and down, only, rather than a reaction, all he gets is level headedness. Eddie knows what’s wrong. Steve knows he does, but he’s pretending nothing is out of the ordinary and for some reason, being ignored is not helping Steve’s desires for this stupid challenge to end.

Steve sighs, maybe a bit heavier than is necessary. “Nothing, Eddie. I’m fine.” His voice comes out shorter than he means it to, but, well, he had harnessed bitchiness just an hour or so earlier with the familiarity of swinging his nailbat, and it’s hard to just tuck that back away. He starts to walk away in a huff, but Eddie’s hand reaches out to stop him. There’s a flicker, just the slightest hint of desire when his eyes shoot up from the crease of Steve’s ass, but he schools his expression back to one of complete control before speaking again.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. Did you get all dressed up for me?”

“Duh.”

“Watch it,” Eddie’s hand snaps up to grip Steve by the chin, shaking him to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Did you really think this would work, Stevie?”

And now, this Steve can play along with. “Think what would work?”

“Honey, you have to know Gareth texted me as soon as you left, right?”

Steve sputters. “W– B– I asked him not to say anything,” he whines.

“And you know what he said to me? Bros before hoes, my sweet.” Eddie laughs at him, then. Really, truly laughs at the face Steve pulls because he really thought he’d gotten away with it.

“‘M not a hoe,” he grumbles, his gaze falling as his cheeks redden in Eddie’s grip.

“Are you sure about that? You drove out of town today just to get yourself a slutty little costume. And all because you thought I would rip it off as soon as I laid eyes on you. I have to admit, it probably would’ve worked had I not been tipped off.”

“I’m going to kill Gareth.”

“Oh, I think he did you a favor, honey. The payoff will be oh so sweet. Just, not right now.” Eddie lets Steve’s face go and pulls a chair away from the dining table. “Right now, I want you to take this chair into the bedroom, facing away from the bed, and sit politely. Don’t. Change.”

Steve’s confusion is evident, but he complies nonetheless, scraping the legs of the chair across the floor as he goes. His nerves alight as he takes his seat, the short skirt riding up so just the lace of his panties press against the cold lacquered wood of the chair. He can hear Eddie shuffling around the kitchen, the sound of his plate clinking down into the sink. Steve briefly thinks he’ll have to clean that up later too, but then he hears the water running. Eddie never does dishes. He’s making him wait. The thought sends a shiver up his spine in tandem to the heat pooling down low in his gut. It feels like there’s a rod in his spine, keeping him sitting up straight, palms down on his thighs. Steve hears footsteps close to the door, but still Eddie doesn’t enter. Instead he walks right past the bedroom to the bathroom. Closing the door and starting the shower.

No. No fucking way. Eddie is not leaving him here half hard in an itchy polyester dress while he takes one of his famous hour long showers. He can’t.

He does.

Or at least, Steve thinks he does. He doesn’t know how long he’s left sitting there, really, because his mind is swimming with the sound of Eddie. He’s humming Corroded Coffin’s originals, the ones Steve knows were written about him, and he can hear the water splashing off of him. Steve has never once been grateful for their thin walls until now. His soft singing is interrupted only occasionally by a little moan as Steve imagines he ghosts over his hard cock. His mouth waters at the thought of it laying hot and heavy on his tongue. His own dick is throbbing painfully at the thought, at the restraint he’s showing, at Eddie’s ruthless teasing.

Finally, finally the water turns off and Eddie comes to their room. The door creaks open slowly and Steve tries to turn his head to take a peek at the towel wrapped low on Eddie’s hips, but he only gets a short glimpse at the obvious bulge and swirling black ink creeping out of the white cloth before fingers snap at him and he’s looking back at the wall. Steve’s skin is crawling, his muscles aching to turn and look, to see the sight of his boyfriend wet and lean and hard. His hands grip into his thighs until he thinks he’ll leave bruises on himself, wants to put his hands on Eddie, bruise Eddie. But he’s a good boy, and there’s a part of him, no matter how bratty, who just wants to please Eddie.

And then he hears it. Those same low moans come more clearly now that there’s no wall separating them and Steve knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he will not be getting what he wants. He knows Eddie will stay true to his word no matter how he tries to tempt him. In fact, Eddie is playing his own game right back at him, and he’s damn near winning. Because now Steve can hear the slick of his pre sliding up and down the shaft, and he can hear Eddie’s breathing get faster and all the sounds with no ability to touch Eddie, or even himself are making his cock weep against his stomach, sticking out of the lace waistband, red and angry.

“You can look now, sweetheart.” Eddie grunts out between broken moans.

Steve whips around at breakneck speed, tripping over himself to stare hungrily at Eddie laid out and wanting him. As much as Eddie can read Steve, Steve can read him right back, and he can see how badly Eddie wants his mouth on him. The chair tips over and clatters to the ground as Steve scrambles to be by Eddie’s side. A scolding voice stops him before he can get a hand on his boyfriend.

“I said look. Not touch. Behave yourself, princess.”

Steve whines. It comes from somewhere deep in his throat, fueled by desperation that he can’t find any other way to express. Eddie wants him to behave, and he knows he won’t get what he wants, but he still holds out hope that maybe, just maybe, if he does what Eddie says he’ll get what he needs. He lays his head down on the bed next to Eddie’s hip and stares, his eyes crossing with each stroke. Eddie’s hands are large with long fingers that could practically fit Steve’s whole length in his fist. It’s like Steve can feel the ghost of the sensation on his own neglected cock as his eyes track each movement.

Eddie’s fist glides down to the base, his fingertips grazing over his balls. His hands move deliberately slowly, running the tips of his fingers over the vein on the underside until he reaches the tip and squeezes. More pre leaks out and Steve has to physically restrain himself from leaning up to lick it off and swallow him whole.

“Good boy,” Eddie teases, and it’s then that he notices Eddie is watching him just as intently.

Good boy. Good. Steve is good. Eddie’s good boy. All for him.

The praise both helps him stay where he is and causes his dick to jump and strain against his panties. Eddie understands without needing to hear a word from Steve and his breathing picks up, a constant slew of praise falling from his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So perfect. I can’t believe you went out and bought this just for me. Did you dip into your tip jar for this?”

“Mmhm.” Steve nods, his face rolling in a wet spot on the bed. Oh. He’s drooling.

“Fuck, baby. You’re never going to make it are you?”

“No,” Steve whimpers. He wants to argue, but his filter is long gone now, and all he can do is agree with whatever Eddie says, be his perfect boy. Well, almost perfect. “Please Eddie. Please let me taste you. I need it.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie groans deep and reaches his free hand out to pull Steve in by the nape of the neck. As soon as his lips attach to the head, his tongue darts out and licks over the head, swirling over the slit until hot cum is flooding his mouth and both of their moans are filling the room in a cacophony of noise. Eddie pants, his eyes burning as he tries to school his expression into something less hungry to swallow Steve whole.

“Come here baby, you did so good for me.”

Steve crawls up on the bed, immediately going to straddle Eddie’s hips, but he’s moved to lay down next to Eddie and he wraps his body around Steve from behind.

“Eddie, wh–”

“I said you did good. That doesn’t mean the bet is off, sweetheart.”

“But, I’m so… Eddie, please.”

Eddie sighs, genuine sympathy in his voice when he says: “Honey, look at me.”

Steve rolls over in Eddie’s arms, trying not to grind his aching dick against Eddie’s hips.

“Do you really want to do this, Stevie? And don’t say yes because you think it’s what I want because trust me, it’s taking everything in me not to fuck you within an inch of your life like this. I mean, fuck, we’re keeping this outfit because I can’t get enough of you.”

Steve considers it for a moment, and while the throbbing between his legs is telling him one thing, his mind is telling him entirely another. This may be torture, this month may just kill him, but that, whatever the fuck that scene was, it was one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced, and if this month promises more of that, it may just be worth it.

“I want to. I really do, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, Eddie. Please don’t be upset if I can’t.”

“Upset? No, no of course not my love. I’m already so proud of you for keeping it together so far. Listen, why don’t we discuss a new safeword of sorts? Something that’s specific to the bet, so if you really can’t do it, you have a way to let me know, yeah?”

Steve’s heart swells. Eddie is proud of him, and more than anything he wants him to feel good. “Okay, thank you, Eddie. Do you have something in mind?”

Eddie giggles. “Well… I noticed you didn’t really want to use the word ‘nut’ when we talked the other day. What if, when you really want to, you ask me to let you nut, and that’s how I’ll know.”

“Ugh, Eddie, come on.” Steve playfully slaps Eddie’s chest, but the smile on his face is unmistakable.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No, I don’t like it. So let’s hope I’ll never have to use it.” Steve giggles, shooting Eddie a wink. “Now can you please help me make this go away?”

“Oh. Right.” Eddie says dumbly, as if he could have forgotten Steve’s weeping cock when it’s all he can think about. Eddie helps him out of his dress, gently removing the panties so nothing brushes too overtly against him. He dresses him in boxers and comfortable sweats and lays him back down in the bed, cradling Steve to his chest as he pets his hair and whispers the most boring, mundane things he can think of.

“Eddie, even stories about cars you fixed today are hot in that tone of voice. Read me The Lord of the Dorks or whatever?”

“The Lord of the Rings?” Eddie snorts. “That is blasphemous Steve. The only thing on this planet hotter than Aragorn is you, and that’s marginal at best.”

Steve gasps. “Rude! Boner gone, you don’t even have to get the book now.”

“Too late, Steve. You gave me an inch, I’m taking a mile. We’re absolutely reading Lord of the Rings now.”

Steve exaggerates a pained groan, but he’s more than happy to let Eddie read to him. Even if he doesn’t always understand the complex words and run-on sentences, coming from Eddie’s voice, it may as well be poetry. Steve drifts to sleep in the warm embrace of Eddie and Tolkien, unfinished, yet somehow deeply satisfied.

@steddievember

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #18+ minors dni #steddievember #no nut november #no touch #smut

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