Is There A Steddie Fic Where Eddie Is Super Touchy-feely With Everyone EXCEPT Steve Because He Knows

Is there a steddie fic where Eddie is super touchy-feely with everyone EXCEPT Steve because he knows once he starts touching him he won't be able to stop

But, poor little touch-starved Steve wonders what he has to do to get Eddie to show him affection like he does everyone else. What did he do wrong? Can he try to get Eddie to touch him like he does everyone else? Why does he want to be touched by Eddie so bad?

golden boy

Prince!Steve x Kitchenboy!Eddie

Hi, all! So, this is my first attempt at writing for this particular pairing. I've been in a hell of a slump recently so please be gentle with me. I started out wanting to write the scene in The House of the Dragon where the guard and the princess get together and somehow it turned into this fluffy shit. Hope you enjoy ❤️

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Eddie's elbow deep in a large pot scrubbing the day's dinner remnants off, lost in thought and humming a tune he'd heard while at the market that morning, he's taken out of his resolve when the door leading to the back of the castle swings open quickly.

"What th - " he starts, splashing soapy water up onto his apron as he turns toward the sudden intrusion. He is at a loss for words once he finally lays eyes on who just came bursting through the door.

Prince Steven.

The two of them lock eyes for a moment, Eddie noticing his tear-stained face and his red-rimmed eyes immediately. Before he can react, say anything of comfort to the poor boy, Steven is ducking his head shyly, mumbling his apologies and hurrying up the few stone steps and out of the scullery.

Eddie can only stand there for a moment, keeping his eyes on the trail the prince left. His chest tightens at how pitiful the boy looked standing before him.

This wasn't their first interaction, not by a long shot. Eddie's Uncle, who stepped in as a father when Eddie's own left him without a home when he was seven, is part of the Royal Guard. It's how Eddie came to work in the palace in the first place.

His Uncle Wayne served King Harrington for many years on the battlefield. When Wayne was wounded and could no longer keep up with the young men coming in to the guard, he was kept on as a guard in the palace - looking after Prince Steven and sometimes the Lady Queen among other noblemen that visited.

Eddie had grown up alongside Steven - though they lived in two very different worlds. They weren't friends, Eddie wasn't simple enough to believe that, most of their 'interactions' involved Eddie watching Steven from afar.

He would watch him practice his archery and sometimes his sword-work, dueling in the courtyard with other boys his age of much more noble birth than Eddie. Usually, that would involve getting caught staring; Prince Steven was attractive, to say the least. With tan skin peppered with freckles, brown hair long and flowing, and eyes that Eddie could get lost in. Eddie usually ended up averting his eyes and trying to hide the blush he could feel burning through his skin and returning to whatever task he was tending to before he got caught in the magnetic pull of Prince Steven Harrington.

Steven, though he seemed about as spoiled as a pampered prince could be, wasn't cruel, not like his father was. The King was known to be merciless to most people and that included his family. He had no qualms putting down the one and only heir to his throne, no matter who was around to witness it.

Eddie had witnessed the King striking his son across the face on more than one occasion. He always secretly wished Steven would fight back.

A child was easy to pick on but as Steven grew older, he'd grown more domineering, his young, lanky body turning into all swollen and hard muscle.

Each time, though, Eddie watched Steven tighten his jaw and retreat into himself more - like he had no other choice than to take the abuse.

That's why seeing Steven so clearly distraught had Eddie a little shaken up. What had happened that was bad enough to make the prince cry - bad enough that he looked well and truly wrecked.

Eddie finished his scrubbing before heading up to the kitchen proper. He scurried by mostly unnoticed by the few ladies still preparing night meals for the royalty in the castle; not a hard feat since most of them never so much as gave Eddie a passing glance.

He froze in his step, eyes landing on one of the many trays about to be taken to each person's bedchamber. Before he could think about how bad of an idea it truly was, he was grabbing a tray and hurrying out of the room headed toward the Prince's bedchamber.

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Steve's eyes burned as he hurried down the dark hallway leading to his bedchamber. He never should have climbed down that damned trellis, he never should have met up with him, he never should have left his bedroom in the first place.

He wishes more than anything he could take it all back.

"Your Grace?" A gruff voice sounds in front of him. He knows it's Sir Munson without looking up, the old man's voice that's become so familiar to Steve, already laced with concern.

"I'm fine." He says weakly, darting inside before another soul can bear witness to his pathetic breakdown.

He hears the guard throw a questioning "Sire?" before the heavy door closes between them. He sags his back against the door, letting a quiet sob escape him as he sits down onto the cold stone floor.

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What in the seven hells am I doing? Eddie wonders to himself as he makes his way down the corridor - only the warm light of the candles that hang on the walls lighting his way.

Eddie has been down these halls before but not often enough to feel any sort of comfort in doing so. He has already gotten a few suspicious looks but, thank gods, no one has spoken of it... yet.

He finally comes to the last turn, seeing none other than his Uncle standing watch outside the Prince's door - though, he seems to be pacing rather than merely standing.

His Uncle catches sight of Eddie and stalls his movements his brows raise in silent question. Eddie slows his approach, already telling on himself - his uncle knows him like a book, Eddie makes it a much too easy sometimes. He continues toward the lone bedchamber at the end of the corridor, as in answer to his uncle's unasked question.

He comes to a stop a few steps away, "Uncle."

"Nephew. What are you doing up here?" Wayne asks, Eddie being able to discern his uncle is speaking to Eddie as more of a knight of the Royal Guard and less of an uncle.

"I - uh - I saw the Prince," Eddie begins simply, hoping that would be sufficient but continues when he learns it is not. "His Grace seemed... distraught. I only want to ensure that he has not taken ill." He finishes, hoping his uncle asks no other questions.

Wayne gave him a suspicious look but Eddie could see the tension in his shoulder recede the slightest bit.

"In and out," His uncle stresses, giving Eddie a stern look before turning to knock gently on the door. There's a moments pause, then he hears the muffled voice of the Prince, "Come."

Eddie squeezes past his uncle once he has opened the door. Though Eddie has been down these halls before, he has never entered into one of the royal's bedchambers. He's fairly certain that the tiny house he shares with his uncle could fit inside this room two or three times over.

The entirety of the room is filled with furniture, needless things with fanciful fabric covering each one, tufts of lace and furs decorating every part that isn't. Eddie lets out a chuckle but quickly swallows it down, reminding himself where he is presently standing.

He clears his throat, hoping his voice will come out much more confident than he feels. "Your Grace. I - I have food for the night."

He hears a shuffling on the other side of the wall that blocks what Eddie assumes is the bed from view. "Where's El?" the voice questions, though not out of anger - Eddie hears more concern in his voice.

At that moment, the boy emerges from the other room. A tunic hanging loosely on his shoulders, the laces undone so as to reveal a splattering of dark, course hair across his tan chest. His hair is unruly and Eddie can still see the faint tint of pink on his skin from the tears he shed earlier.

Eddie pulls his gaze away and focuses on the floor, unsure of how long he had been standing there gawking at the fucking Prince of Hawkins.

"I - It's you."

Eddie swallows thickly, only now realizing what a mistake all this truly was. "I..." Eddie stutters, forgetting himself - people have had their head on a platter for far less than forgetting to address royalty properly. "Your Grace. I do apologize," the words come out a stuttering mess but he pushes through. "I - I don't... I should not be here."

Eddie is quick to put the plate down, clumsily of course with a loud clatter, almost causing it to fall off the table entirely. He curses to himself as he turns to leave.

"You - You are Edward?" He hears Steven say and freezes where he is. There's a moment of silence before the Prince says, almost... nervously, Eddie thinks. "Correct? Sir Munson's son?"

Eddie turns around, a mixture of shock and confusion clouding his already anxious mind. How does he - Prince Steven Harrington - know Eddie's name?

"Y - yes, Your Grace. I mean - No, he's not..." Eddie stopped and took as deep of a breath as he could muster. "He is my uncle, Your Grace. But, he is the closest thing I have known to a true father."

The Prince nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and Eddie tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the sight.

"Is El okay?" The Prince asks, thankfully steering the conversation away from Eddie's rambling.

"Yes. I- I mean, I'm unsure..." He trials off, unsure of how much he should say. He catches the Prince's eye. his brows furrowed in confusion. "I saw you coming back into the castle. Y - you looked distraught. I only wished to make sure you were okay."

"Oh," Prince Steven says but it's a delicate thing.

Eddie lowers his head in a slight bow and finishes with a weak, "I should go, Your Grace."

"Um, I actually - I like Steve..." The prince hurries to say, taking a few unsure steps toward Eddie, catching him before he turns around completely. It's Eddie's turn to look slightly confused. "I like Steve... better than Your Grace."

Eddie can't help when his eyes widen just the slightest bit and it makes a smile spread across the Prince's - no, Steve's - face. If he wasn't already smitten enough over the dashing good looks and the flawless hair, he's certainly a goner with that winning smile.

"I like - um - I like Eddie. Edward is too formal." he says, unable to fight the blush that he knows is creeping up his neck.

"Well, Eddie," Steve pays special attention to the name passing his lips. "Would you like to sit? Have a bit of fruit?" There's something in the question that makes Eddie's stomach swoop. He gives Steve another shy smile and a small nod.

Steve gestures to a seat, big enough for them both, sitting and waiting for Eddie to follow. As soon as he sits beside him, feeling the warmth from the other boy, he hears the large door open and springs back up, distancing himself from Steve.

"Forgive me for this intrusion, Your Grace. Edward I can only assume you have gotten lost on your way home." Lady Joyce, who Eddie knows all too well from his day to day work in the castle, says a little louder than Eddie personally believes is necessary.

"Yes, ma'am." Eddie ducks his head, making a bee line for the still open door where his uncle watches holding the helm of his sword. "Sorry, sorry."

"Edward," Lady Joyce barks, catching Eddie in his escape. "Manners, Edward. He is your Prince."

"Oh," Eddie nods to the intimidating woman, turning and bending into a bow, his arms dramatically floating out beside him. "Good evening," a pause, his head tilting up to watch Steve's eyes dance across his body a the gesture. A rather large smile and a dash of rose coloring his cheeks. "Your Grace." Eddie gives Steve one of his biggest smiles, twirling out of his bow and skipping out the door.

His smile doesn't fade despite hearing Lady Joyce's excuse of kitchen boys not knowing how to be presentable in front of royals or the disapproving (but knowing) look his uncle fixes him with.

Shitty public bathroom make out session. Romance

Joe Keery in Finalmente L’Alba

It’s the spinning that does it. Eddie couldn’t look away if someone paid him. Every single time it happens, he just stops what he’s doing and stares. Drooling. In the kitchen, out by the pool, in Eddie’s own bedroom and now…now at band practice.

Steve took over for Corroded Coffin’s drummer when he left for college. Turns out, Steve can actually keep rhythm really well and while he can’t read music to save his ass, he can understand beats and notes like a natural. The problem is– the problem is that he keeps spinning those fucking drumsticks and Eddie’s gonna jizz in his goddamn jeans one of these days.

The thing is, Eddie knows it’s leftover from his Scoops Ahoy days. That Steve used to spin an ice cream scooper directly into his ‘scoop loop’ to dangle from his shorts like a total fucking jock. Robin said it was both impressive and disgusting how quickly he taught himself to do it and how slick he looked nonchalantly spinning a damn ice cream scoop day after day.

Eddie full on believes her because his dick has been hard for weeks now. He was already struggling when it was just utensils in the kitchen, but then he’d seen Steve with his bat out to check for a noise in the backyard. It was a raccoon but Steve had spun that bat like it was an extension of his own arm.

And now. Fuck. Now he sticks his fucking drumsticks in his back pocket and takes every opportunity to take them out, spin them, and then tap out a rhythm on whatever flat surface he can find. Eddie’s dresser, the kitchen counter, tables, the side of Eddie’s van, the counter at Family Video. Eddie’s fucking heart.

Eddie would hear the rat tat tat tat tat of the sticks and look over - even though he knew he fucking shouldn’t - and catch Steve unconsciously spinning one of the sticks in his dexterous fingers, tap tap tap tap, spin.

He loved it, is the thing. Steve loved drumming. He grinned all through practice. He made music everywhere. And Eddie wouldn’t ever tell him to stop. Even if that meant putting up with that damn Steve Harrington patented Spin.

It gave Eddie thoughts. Ideas.

He wanted to put those fucking fingers in his mouth and suck on them until Steve begged him to never stop. He wanted those fingers wrapped around certain parts of his own body. Maybe buried in his body. Wanted to see Steve spin a bottle of lube as he leaned into Eddie’s space like the hottest thing to ever happen to a gay super senior.

“You okay, Eds?”

Fuck. No. Jesus. Put it away, Harrington. All of it. Put it all away. “Huh? Yeah man, I’m cool.” Eddie said instead. “You?”

Smiling, Steve spun one of his drumsticks in his nimble fingers, then the other. Rat tat tat tat tat. “Yeah man, I’m pretty fucking great actually.”

Yes. Yes you are, Harrington.

warming up with my warm boys :)