Say Yes To Me (Steddie)

You Deserve Better

It was after eleven when Steve woke up and he was not surprised that he still had an erection. He'd laid awake for hours thinking about Eddie when they got home. He thought about Eddie's body, his new tattoo, the way they'd kissed, and how turned on they'd both been. He laughed quietly at how strange this all was. His crush on Eddie was one thing, but until last night, it had never really been sexual. Not graphically anyway. It had been thoughts of kissing, and that was about it. But now he was picturing Eddie naked, fantasizing about touching him. It was so overwhelming.

Steve put his hand over his dick and palmed it through his boxers. He was so hard and a quiet moan escaped his lips as his hand moved. He closed his eyes and pictured Nancy in his head. That was habit. He'd only ever masturbated thinking about her. But he didn't want to think about her now. He wanted to think about Eddie. He licked his lips and remembered the way Eddie had tasted last night, like weed and cigarettes. He thought about Eddie's tongue in his mouth, then imagined what it would feel like on his neck, or his shoulder. Steve slipped his hand into his boxers and wrapped his fist around his erection.

Steve raised his hips as he squeezed his dick and moaned softly. He whispered Eddie's name and picked up speed, stroking faster, thrusting harder into his hand. He pictured Eddie's chest and stomach, imagined licking him, his tongue sliding through the curves and grooves of his muscles. He thought about sucking on his nipples, biting them to make Eddie hiss in pain. Eddie liked pain. It made his dick hard. Steve wanted to make Eddie's dick hard. He wanted to touch it, see if it felt the same in his hand as his own did. He said Eddie's name again, louder. He was so close. He imagined the hand jerking him off was Eddie's. He wanted to come for Eddie. And he did, his back arched and his whole body tensed as he started to come over his hand.

There was a tap at the window and suddenly it slid up. Steve stopped stroking, still in the middle of his orgasm, panting hard and fast, squeezing firmly as he turned his head and saw Eddie coming through the window. He froze, unsure what to do. He couldn't let go, he couldn't breathe. Eddie crawled in and turned to face the bed.

"Wake up, Sleeping..." Eddie stopped and stared.

"Eddie," Steve groaned, trying to stop it from sounding like a moan but he failed and he knew it. The look on Steve's face, the sound of his voice, the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, Eddie knew exactly what he'd just interrupted.

"Shit, dude. I'm sorry." Eddie was out the window and gone before Steve even registered it.

Steve groaned. Being interrupted was one thing. Being interrupted by the person you were fantasizing about was frustrating as hell. It did nothing to relieve the half spent feeling he had. He started stroking again, squeezing his eyes shut. He pictured Eddie again. But now he pictured him standing there watching. Watching Steve jerk off, listening to Steve moan his name. Steve started to come again, to finish what Eddie had interrupted. Steve stroked himself through his orgasm until he was too weak to move.

Steve laid there for several minutes, catching his breath. When he could think straight again, he climbed out of bed and went to take a shower. When he was done and dressed, he was hungry but instead of going downstairs to see if his mom had made lunch, he went out the window and over to Eddie's room. Eddie was sitting on his bed with his guitar, strumming it softly when Steve came through the window. Eddie put the guitar down and gave Steve an apologetic look.

"Hope I didn't come between you and a happy ending." Steve blushed and didn't answer. "You need a girlfriend," Eddie laughed. "You jerk off way too much."

"I rarely jerk off," Steve told him. "And yeah. I need a girlfriend." Steve ran a hand through his still damp hair. "I'm not as cool as you, Eds. The chicks flock to you. Not me."