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The thing about Eddie Munson was that he never did anything quietly. Except, apparently, breathing when Steve Harrington fell asleep on his couch.
Steve had passed out halfway through a movie—some action flick he’d already seen a dozen times since they started dating—his head tipped back, mouth slightly open, hair doing that stupidly perfect thing it always did. Eddie noticed because, of course, he did. He noticed everything about Steve, whether he wanted to or not. Eddie shifted on the floor, the guitar balanced across his lap. He’d been idly plucking the strings, soft and careful, as if the sound itself might wake Steve. The amp was off. No distortion, no theatrics. Just fingers, strings, and a stupidly warm living room that smelled like pizza and Steve’s cologne—something clean and expensive that Eddie pretended not to like.
He glanced up again. Steve was still asleep. Good? Dangerous? Nope, both. Definitely both.
Eddie let himself really look this time. Steve’s broad shoulders awkwardly folded into the couch, the way one long leg hung off the side as if he’d outgrown the furniture. There was a small crease between Steve’s eyebrows, as if he’d fallen asleep mid-thought. Eddie had the sudden, irrational urge to smooth it out with his thumb.
“You’re staring,” Steve mumbled suddenly, still with his eyes closed. Eddie nearly dropped the guitar. “I—” He scrambled for dignity, found none, and let out a weak reply. “I was not.”
Steve cracked one eye open, a lazy grin already pulling at his mouth. “You totally were.” Eddie snorted. “Please. If I were staring, you’d know. I’d be way more obvious about it.”
Steve laughed, soft and warm, and sat up, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rode up just enough to expose a sliver of skin, and Eddie’s brain short-circuited in a very undignified way. Steve noticed, of course. He raised an eyebrow. “See something you like?” Eddie swallowed. “Relax, Harrington. I was admiring... uh... the couch.” “Uh-huh.” Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Funny, because you definitely weren't looking at the couch.”
Eddie looked down at his guitar and then back at Steve. “Maybe I got distracted.” Steve grinned, “By what?”
They held eye contact. Something electric hummed in the space between them—quieter than Eddie’s usual amps but stronger. Steve’s gaze flicked to Eddie’s mouth, just for a second, then back up.
Eddie smirked. “Careful,” he said lightly. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might start getting ideas.” Steve’s smile softened instead of fading. That did it. Eddie’s heart kicked hard against his ribs. Steve stood and offered a hand. “C’mon. If you’re gonna stay over, you don’t have to sleep on the floor like some tragic Victorian orphan.”
Eddie blinked. “You’re offering to share?”
Steve laughed, a sound that made Eddie unfairly flustered. “Babe, we’ve been dating for a year. Yes, I’m offering to share.” The bedroom was dim, lit only by a lamp that Steve clicked on low. Eddie set his guitar carefully against the wall, as if it were something sacred. Steve kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, already comfortable. Eddie hesitated for half a second, then climbed in. They lay on their backs, shoulders just barely touching. Eddie could feel Steve’s warmth through the thin fabric of his shirt. He tried not to think about how nice it felt.
“So,” Steve said quietly, “do you play like that often? All soft and gentle?” Eddie huffed. “Don’t get used to it. I have a reputation.” Steve turned his head, his eyes shining in the low light. “I kinda like seeing this side of you.”
Eddie turned too. He smiled, pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips. “Love you baby.” he murmured against his lips. Steve rolled his eyes and shifted closer, their legs tangling. “Love you too, Eds.”
“Mm,” Eddie said, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest lightly against Steve’s. “Good.”
The next morning, Eddie woke up feeling warm—like, really warm. At first, his half-asleep brain thought he might have accidentally summoned hellfire in his dreams again, but then he shifted and felt an arm tighten around his waist. A familiar weight pressed into his back, and a soft breath tickled the back of his neck.
Steve.
Eddie smiled into the pillow before he could stop himself. Steve Harrington was a menace when it came to cuddling. He had zero respect for personal space, always full of limbs and warmth, with quiet little hums in his chest, like he was purring without even realizing it. Eddie had once made the mistake of mentioning that, and Steve had refused to let him go for a full hour just to be silly about it. Steve's chin was tucked over Eddie’s shoulder, his nose pressed right under Eddie's ear. One leg was thrown over Eddie’s hips, effectively trapping him. Eddie decided to test the waters, shifting slightly. Immediately, Steve tightened his grip and mumbled, "Don’t." His voice was thick with sleep.
Eddie chuckled softly. "Good morning to you, too, sweetheart." Steve kissed the back of Eddie's neck—lazy and open-mouthed, clearly not awake enough to aim properly. "You were going to escape." "I was going to grab water." "Unnecessary," Steve replied. "You’re legally required to stay right here." Eddie snorted. "Legally, huh?"
"Mhm. Boyfriend law."
That statement did something very unfair to Eddie's heart. He relaxed back into Steve's chest, tangling their fingers together where Steve's hand rested on his stomach. Steve immediately started tracing absentminded shapes over Eddie’s shirt, his thumb slipping just under the hem like he was mapping familiar territory. Eddie sighed dramatically. "You know, one day you’re going to have to explain how you pretend to be cool in public when you’re like this in private."
Steve smiled against Eddie's neck. "What, affectionate?" "No," Eddie said. "Clingy." In response, Steve nipped Eddie's shoulder playfully. "You love it."
Eddie absolutely did. He leaned his head back just enough to rest against Steve’s jaw. "Yeah, I do." They stayed like that for a while, quiet except for the soft creak of the bed when Steve shifted and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Steve pressed slow kisses along Eddie’s shoulder and down his arm, as if he had all the time in the world. Eddie felt himself melting. "You’re in a cuddly mood." Steve hummed in agreement. "You let me fall asleep on your chest last night." "That’s because you looked cute," Eddie replied. "And you wouldn’t stop playing with my rings." Steve's hand paused for a moment, then resumed, his fingers deliberately slipping under Eddie’s shirt this time, warm against his skin. "I still can," he said innocently.
Eddie laughed, his breath hitching just a little. "Okay, okay—easy there, tiger. We’re keeping this PG." Steve grinned, pressing a kiss just below Eddie’s ear. "I can be PG and distracting." "Yeah," Eddie admitted, relaxing fully into Steve’s hold. "You’re very talented like that."
Steve squeezed him once, firm and affectionate. "Mine."
Eddie turned his head enough to steal a kiss—soft, unhurried, familiar in the best way. When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against Steve’s. "Yours," Eddie agreed. Steve smiled, like he’d just won something. They didn’t move for a long time after that, and honestly? Neither of them felt like they needed to.