Your Heart On A Tilt Always Sliding How Good Does It Feel?

🎶 Your heart on a tilt always sliding… How good does it feel? 🎶

This is like, low key spice, no junk visible? Please leave me the fuck alone tumblr censorship police.

WHY I WATCH STRANGER THINGS: THE “PLOT” - PART ONE 

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?

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.

Whenever I’m alone with you You make me feel like I am free again Whenever I’m alone with you You make me feel like I am clean again - The Cure, Lovesong

Steve lost a bet, but Eddie is a fan of the cheerleading uniform 😏