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The best part of having his own little house is that when he puts his close friends in it, they fill the space—it's not so huge that everyone's voice echoes off of high ceilings.
The worst part about it is how fucking hot it gets inside.
Steve's already got the windows open, even though it's cold enough that the light dusting of late fall snow sticks around on the grass. He's considering opening a door too, though the last time he did that a raccoon got in and Robin had... a very bad time with that.
He frowns and finishes off his beer, shooting Robin a vague gesture—I'll be right back—and heads down the hall, ready to change again.
Starting off the party with a nice sweater was probably a bad idea, even if he loved how soft it felt on his skin and how good it looked stretched over his chest. He'd changed into a polo shortly after everyone arrived, but now he was breaking his own party rules and pulling out a pair of shorts.
They're nice, at least. Good for the type of summer schmoozing he doesn't do anymore.
Everyone else seems fine, and he's super aware of how weird he's going to look, still sweating in shorts and... and yeah, a muscle shirt. Even his neck is sweating—he needs to breathe.
At least nobody comments on it when he comes back in, though Eddie raises his eyebrows as he looks him up and down. There's no way he's judging him, but Steve doesn't know what the look in his eye really means.
Nancy's dress shows off her shoulders and Chrissy's skirt shows off her legs, but Steve's officially showing the most skin here. Usually he doesn't have a problem with it, but... but it's a party—an event—and even though he's changed in so many ways, he likes his reputation for dressing well, even when it's in something casual.
"Better?" Robin asks, offering him a sip of her gin and tonic.
Steve leans in to suck on the straw for a second, smiling at her.
"Yeah, for now," he says. "Did you mix that? It's good."
Robin shakes her head with a mischievous little smirk, and she doesn't have to say anything; he immediately knows.
She does though, because teasing him is a fun game to her.
"You should tell Eddie," she says, glancing across the room. "That you love his bartending skills. His mixology."
Steve doesn't dare look, scared Eddie'll be staring at him, or worse, not looking back at him at all.
"I will later," he says, tapping his fingers on the wall, pressing eight clambering heartbeats into it as he glances around too casually.
Jonathan and Argyle are stoned on the couch, staring at the Magic Eye painting Robin had hung up. Steve hasn't ever been able to get it to work for him, but maybe getting high would help, since his friends are melting into each other's shoulders, lost in it, mumbling about fish.
He moves on from the shape of Argyle's sunbeam smile and does a quick I'm hosting sweep, getting a visual on who's around.
Everyone looks happy and comfortable, so he goes into the kitchen, wondering if he should switch from beer to gin. Usually it's a bad idea, especially now that he's twenty-seven and gets real hangovers, but he only had one so far and the night is so young it's still bright outside.
In fact, the night is so young it's still the afternoon.
He grabs the gin and like two seconds after the bottle thunks on the counter, Eddie's there, leaning on the counter beside him like he started posing before he like, teleported or whatever.
"May I?" he asks, winking like a stage magician and not like he's flirting.
Steve laughs and steps aside, gesturing at the informal bar they've set up.
"Please," he says.
He likes watching Eddie do things. There's something that scratches his back about it, like, it's a little chaotic, but not in a way that makes him worried Eddie will break something or fuck it up. He's got practiced hands and he's not taking himself too seriously these days, and no matter what it is he does, it draws Steve in like he's got his own personal Magic Eye painting. He wonders if anyone else gets it, when they stare at Eddie.
"Voilà!" Eddie grins, sliding his drink over.
"Thanks," Steve says, accidentally putting charm into it, though Eddie's pretty immune to it by now. "Uh, bon... bon appertif."
"Appétit," Eddie says, leaning heavy on Steve's shoulder, watching him take his first sip.
It's just a gin and tonic with a little bit of lime in it, but it's better than any of the ones Steve's mixed before. Maybe he's biased, or maybe Eddie just found the perfect balance or something.
"Though, appétit is for eating I think," Eddie continues. "Dunno what the French for cheers is."
Steve used to know, back when he was around people who thought it made them cultured. He shrugs with his free shoulder and smiles at him.
"Dunno either, maybe just cheers?" he questions. "You comfortable in here? You're wearing layers."
Eddie nods, pressing his cold fingers to the back of Steve's neck, proving it. It feels incredible.
"Fuck," he sighs, relaxing against him. "You give all your customers service like this?"
Eddie laughs, moving his hand so it's fully cupping under Steve's skull, his thumb pressing at the corner of Steve's jaw. His hands are a little wet from the ice still too, and while it's brief, it's a moment of Heaven.
"Nah, just the hot ones," Eddie says, then he winks. "The ones that run hot, I mean."
Steve wrestles down a blush. It's been years, but Eddie still gets to him sometimes.
"Yeah, I think I was a campfire in my past life," Steve mutters, unable to keep his smile down.
He shivers when Eddie's thumb trails down. He focuses on stirring his drink so he doesn't have to do the impossible task of keeping his composure while looking right at Eddie's face.
Eddie laughs, bringing his other hand to one of Steve's cheeks.
"Yeah, you're warming my hands just the same," he says.
God. Steve wishes Eddie's hands would stay icy for longer, and that he'd put them all over his body, and that he'd—
Steve takes a sip of his drink.
"Yeah, that's the only tip you're getting," he jokes.
---
He holds out for another hour, talking to people, catching up, making plans for New Years at the end of the year. It's good, he's enjoying it, and he's also sweating like crazy.
Instead of beginning the never-ending carousel of changing his shirts out, he pushes his feet into the slippers he keeps by the back door and steps out onto the patio, sighing in relief at the immediate rush of cold air. He quit smoking when he moved in with Robin, but he likes to treat his time out here as a pseudo-smoke break anyway.
It's frigid, and it's so perfect that he wonders if he could last a full half hour out here. Maybe get really cooled off—it'd be fine, it's like, hovering right around 35 degrees—and then he could actually relish the warmth when he goes back in.
He has always run hot, but it got worse as he got older after he stacked on a new layer of fat and muscle, and now he's got some insulation. He leans up against the wooden railing and lets it cool his forearms.
"Hey," Eddie calls as he comes out to join him, carefully shutting the door behind him. "It's nice out here."
Steve looks over his shoulder, unable to keep his smile down when he notices Eddie looking at his ass. He resists the urge to push it out more. Everyone's used to how Eddie will look at people, but Steve seems to be the only one who wants to do anything about it.
"Yeah, nice and cool," he says. "You finally get too hot?"
Eddie laughs around where he's chewing on a toothpick. He doesn't smoke anymore either, given the condition his lungs are in, so he's always got something to bite or play with in his mouth. Steve usually ends up watching him do it, but Eddie has his own staring problem too, so by this point he's not really self conscious about it.
"Nah," he says, coming up to lean beside him. He's got his leather jacket on. "Thought I'd keep you company, didn't want you to get lonely."
Steve laughs, nudging him with his hip.
"Cute," he says. "I appreciate the consideration."
Eddie bats his eyelashes and hip-checks him with effort, barely knocking him off balance. Steve hopes he looks smug as he raises his eyebrows at him.
"Oh fuck off," Eddie rolls his eyes, pointing at him with the toothpick.
"That's what I came out here to do," Steve says. "I fucked off to cool off."
"Oh yeah? Got all hot and bothered in there?" Eddie asks, plucking at the back of Steve's muscle shirt.
Steve nods, not lost for words but not able to think of anything clever to say. He's pretty sure begging Eddie to like, bite his lip instead of the toothpick wouldn't make him laugh.
"Are you still too warm?" Eddie asks, casually, giving him a once-over. "Nobody will mind if you take your shirt off."
Huh. It seems inappropriate, when most people are in like, long sleeves and pants, dressed up not in their best but in their neat-and-coziest. It's not like they're having a pool party.
The carefulness of Eddie's voice would be alarming if Steve wasn't already giving into whatever thing he's scheming, despite the fact that it's definitely not going to like, be in Steve's favor or whatever. He just likes the special attention, and he thinks maybe Eddie gets a kick out of toying with him.
"Are you sure? Seems... It seems like I'd be showing too much, you know?" he says, frowning down at himself. "I'm already like, dressed for summer here."
"Nobody's going to be mad," Eddie says. "They'd rather you feel comfortable instead."
Steve nods slowly, wondering if that's true or if that's just Eddie convincing him to starting playing his game.
Well, if Eddie wants Steve to play, he's going to get something he wants out of this too.
"Alright then," he says and lifts his arms up over his head. "Watch the hair."
It clearly throws Eddie for a loop, but he recovers fast, the slap-shocked look on his face smoothing over as he grabs the bottom of Steve's shirt and slowly lifts it. At first, Steve thinks he's nervous, but then he realizes Eddie's dancing each side up as if he was using Steve's body to do a strip tease.
Oh God. He can't believe that it does it for him, but the brush of his shirt teases his skin in a way that makes him clench his muscles against a shiver.
"What a hunk," Eddie smirks, whipping Steve's shirt off the rest of the way when it gets past his head.
He tucks it into his back pocket and Steve has a feeling that if he asked for it back, Eddie would say no. It's not like he couldn't go in and grab literally any of his other ones, but maybe he wishes that was off limits too. He knows he's already getting too... into this, that Eddie probably isn't even thinking about how hard it's making him.
Like, Eddie's games usually are more about laughing at each other than like... turning each other on.
"How's that?" Eddie asks, watching his chest as Steve's nipples get hard in the cold.
"A little better," he says.
He's not too hot anymore, but he's not feeling cooled off at all. In fact, his skin feels hotter, buzzing. Eddie's left the toothpick on the railing, and now he's running his tongue over his teeth absently as he leans in close.
"You're still all red," he says. "Though you're not as sweaty, so that's good."
Steve thinks he's going to be staying all red, especially if Eddie stays brave like this.
"What material are your shorts made of?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks down at them.
He doesn't remember, some kind of cotton? Something that's okay enough for summer, but not breezy like linen.
"Wool?" he guesses, because that sounds too warm and if he doesn't chase the idea that Eddie's dangling in front of him he'll be left wondering for his whole life.
Like, is Eddie really going to go there?
"Oh," Eddie frowns. "That sounds like it's good for winter."
Steve laughs. Yeah, wool shorts for winter. That'd probably actually be fine for him.
"They're alright if I won't be outside for a long time. Don't want frostbite, you know?"
Eddie nods solemnly, giving what he said exactly the amount of polite attention it's due, and then gestures to his fly.
"You're wearing underwear, right?"
Steve is... but he's also got a boner that's only hiding by the miracle combination of how these shorts are constructed and how his briefs are holding it at an angle up towards his hip.
Fuck, whatever. Eddie could ask him to do anything these days and he'd probably do it.
"Yeah, why?" he asks, clenching his toes in his slippers.
"Your shorts are probably trapping a lot of heat, right?" Eddie asks. "You're not going to cool off if you're basically sitting in hot air."
Steve's chest thrills as he turns to face him better, letting one hand rest on the railing and he parks the other one on his hip, just above his waistband.
"Alright, you make a good point," he says, making an expression that he hopes conveys go on, do it.
Eddie pauses, like he's catching up with himself and what he's actually doing out here. Steve pretends he doesn't notice, because he needs the like, veil of naivety—though once Eddie sees how hard he is, that's going to... change things.
"Okay," Eddie says, and reaches out, slowly unbuttoning his shorts. "Don't worry, everyone here's seen you in your swimming trunks."
Steve fights back a smile.
Eddie pulls down the fly and pauses, glancing from the open vee of his shorts to Steve's face, his eyes wide.
"Uh, okay," he says. "Maybe... maybe not like swimming trunks after all."
Steve laughs, pushing a hand through his hair. It feels nice; his fingers are starting to get cold.
"C'mon, help me out," he says, and Eddie gets his head back in the game.
"Right, yeah, sorry. Don't want you to overheat," he says, doing another strip-tease move, slowly teasing the shorts down over Steve's hips and thighs, until he lets them drop to his feet.
Steve steps out of them, careful not to lose his slippers. If his feet get cold then this will be over too fast, he'll have to go warm up.
"How's that?" Eddie asks, tossing the shorts at the door.
They hit it with a thunk, and Steve sees Nancy poke her head around the wall to see what made the noise. He can only give her shocked face a little wave.
"Better," he sighs, trying not to laugh nervously.
The air is... really cold, and it feels... really good. Like, if someone with frozen hands was touching him very very lightly in these big sweeping caresses. His cock throbs and pushes at his briefs, already kind of visible through the white cotton. Maybe he should've worn black ones today, but given how Eddie keeps glancing at them and then looking away as he catches himself, he thinks he likes the extra exposure.
"Good!" Eddie says too brightly, fumbling for the toothpick.
He accidentally knocks it off the railing into the yard, and Steve laughs, turning so he's leaning like he was before. Maybe he's sticking his ass out a little more.
"Are you overheating?" he asks, shifting his weight from leg to leg, relishing in how the cold air comes to touch him indiscriminately.
Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but then the door opens and his eyes go wide instead, panicking as if he didn't know this whole time that Steve's still hosting a party.
"Hey," Jon calls. "You cool if we smoke out here?"
"No ciggies, man," Argyle says. "Just some friendly lettuce."
Steve stifles an ugly laugh, smirking sideways at Eddie.
"Be my guest," he says, looking over his shoulder at them. Jon's looking anywhere but at him, and Argyle is already coming over—Steve can't really tell if he noticed that he's in his underwear or not. "You guys not high enough already?"
Jon shrugs, picking his way across the deck until he's leaning on Eddie's other side.
"We mostly just needed a break," he says, and he does look like he's gotten warm too. But he's also wearing like, a sweater and some nice jeans.
"Yeah," Argyle sighs. "The Magic-Eye stopped weaving mysteries for us and so we have to find another journey for the night. Know of any tapestries?"
Steve can't tell if he's being serious or not, so he just shrugs.
Eddie's quiet, just nodding and looking between them, sometimes catching Steve's eye with a kind of uh-oh urgency in his face. Steve... doesn't care.
"It's nice out here," he says. "I dunno how magical it'll be compared to whatever's going on in that painting, but look, trees!"
Eddie laughs, breaking out of his silent freak out and relaxing a little bit.
"Trees are good," Jon sighs. "And grass. Trees and grass."
Argyle laughs too, looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye.
"You and Robin have a wicked view out here," he says, looking over him from head to toe.
Steve's cock twitches hard, because he's flirting.
"Yeah, we got lucky with this place," he says. He doesn't get tired of saying it, even though they bought it like three years ago. "Though we're still fighting over the extra room. She thinks she can convert it into an office, but neither of us do office work, so I'm not sure why we can't just leave it how it is. I like having a guest room."
Argyle nods, considering it seriously, and Steve's kinda lost in his eyes - pink around the edges, glassy, dark - as he watches him think.
"Why don't you do what you always do?" he asks, tipping his head to the side.
"What do we always do?" Steve asks, trying not to frown and let on that he doesn't get it.
"Combine, man. Combine," he says, resting his hand on Steve's shoulder. It's warm, and as big as Steve's hand, and Steve's once again acutely aware of all of his skin.
"So a guest office?" he asks, frowning.
He imagines businessmen coming to stay in their office for a week, getting all of their work done, like some kind of B&B for accountants.
"A guest room that is also an office, yes," Argyle says. "Nancy has one, though I haven't slept in it in a long time."
Jon and Eddie have been silent—Steve can feel how Eddie's going over the past like twenty minutes to figure out how they got to this moment—but now Jon chokes on his spit.
That tells him a lot more than what Argyle said.
"I'll have to ask her for pointers," he says diplomatically instead of following the thunder of interest in what sounds like a couple made of three of his friends.
Maybe he'll ask Nancy later, when he's like, fully dressed. If he can figure out a way to bring it up that doesn't sound like he's accusing them of a threesome, in case he's just got sex on the mind and Argyle's just been sleeping in his van or something.
"Yeah, it's run like a tight ship in there," Argyle says, squeezing Steve's shoulder before letting his hand drop.
Steve's spine melts a tiny bit and he styles it out by standing up straight and stretching.
Three pairs of eyes snap to his body and he realizes he's basically pushing his hips out, presenting his cock for inspection, even though it's still thankfully trapped in his briefs. He lets the stretch linger and he sighs as big and deeply as he wants to before going back to leaning against the railing.
Argyle just nods at him, his eyebrows raised.
"Right on," he says, and Steve laughs, ducking his head to his arms for a second.
Steve nudges his knee against Eddie's leg, fighting back a shiver. He feels good out here, but Eddie looks like he's made some kind of mistake, and he doesn't want that. He wants like, Eddie's playfulness again, the strip-tease thing, the veneer of cat-and-mouse.
"What do you think? You use it the most," he says, pressing his lips together when Eddie's eyes widen and look down at his erection. "Would you be able to sleep in it if it's an office too?"
Eddie laughs, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Yeah, yeah that'd be fine," he says. "It's pretty empty in there right now, you know I like chaos."
"You sure do," he says pointedly, nudging him again.
Eddie gives him a look like he's offended, but he's smiling helplessly too, and Steve could so easily just help him out by kissing it off of his face.
The door opens again and the most familiar energy in the world stops short, letting it shut loudly behind her. Robin gives a very tired sigh and Steve knows exactly what look she's giving them.
"Hey," he says, looking over his shoulder again. He meets Robin's laser-stare head on, drawing up as much smugness as he can. "Everyone's saying the third room should be a guest room."
Robin's jaw drops with an affronted scoff and the whole do I even want to know? of her drops off.
"Yeah well, Nancy says I should make it an office," she says, crossing her arms. "And she knows what she's talking about."
Argyle looks between them and then around him and Eddie, where Jon must give him some kind of look, because he just relaxes back against the railing, watching birds flit from one tree to another.
"Yeah but she doesn't live here, she lives in her own home," he says, turning slightly but sparing Robin the extra view. Not that she hasn't already seen a lot more of him than this, but... this is different than barging in on someone because the main bathroom needs a plumber again. "And she like, has real office work to do."
"You think I don't have paperwork?" Robin asks, flicking her bangs out of her face.
"You fill out like, five forms a week," Steve smirks. "And you don't even do it at the dining room table, you do it on the couch."
"That table is for eating!" she says like an accusation.
"Uh-huh, that's why you read there, draw there, organize your knickknacks there, make-out with your girlfriends the-"
"Alright! God, just shut up," Robin says, and Steve knows if she had anything in her hand she'd be throwing it at him. "If we had an office I wouldn't have to do all of that at the kitchen table."
Eddie's biting his lip like he has something really stupid to say, and Steve wishes he would, but he knows he's not going to interrupt the the old-kinda-fake argument song and dance he has with Robin.
"So what, our guests will have to sleep in the dining room?" he scoffs like he's totally offended.
"Eddie can sleep in your room," Robin scoffs back, making Steve's stomach flip in surprise.
He cannot think about sharing a bed with Eddie right now.
"Maybe he wants his own room when he stays here!"
"Uh-huh. And maybe pigs fly." Robin says coldly.
Steve breaks. He starts laughing, glancing at Eddie to find him grinning behind his hair.
"Looks like marriage is the same no matter what color it is," Jon mumbles, and Robin looks like she wants to throw something at him too, though she's trying not to laugh.
"Shut uppp!" she groans. "And Steve, why are you naked?"
Steve looks down at himself and gasps, pretends to be shocked, patting at his bare thighs with an overwrought look of panic before he relaxes and shrugs.
"Eddie was helping me cool off," he says. "And I'm not naked, I'm wearing underwear."
Eddie disappears further into his hair, and Robin rolls her eyes so hard Steve feels it in his own skull.
"You are so fucking strange," she says, heading back towards the door. "Should I bring a 6-pack out?"
"Yeah, please," Eddie sighs.
---
Okay, so maybe he's a little cold by now, but with all of his friends out on the deck—everyone in the lawn furniture except for Eddie right beside him—he doesn't want to go back inside.
And like, he's almost finished his beer, and his skin is back to a pleasant buzz, and his erection had gone away but now Eddie keeps finding excuses to touch him and like, get him all worked up even though it's barely anything to get hard over. His cock once again throbs in his briefs, and this time he's been leaning with his back against the railing, so there's no way to be a little modest about it unless he wants to like, obviously hide.
Still, Eddie knows his neck is sensitive, he knows that murmuring in his ear does things to him.
Like, he already learned that the awkward way years ago, and ever since then he's only ever used it as revenge for when Steve accidentally-on-purpose runs his fingers across Eddie's palm and watches him violently shudder.
Nancy notices first, but that's only because Chrissy has Robin locked into a conversation about a movie that has real honest to God lesbians in it, otherwise Robin would just know. Sometimes Steve can admit that they're too like, telepathic. Like it's telepathetic, sometimes.
He tries not to smirk at his own stupid joke and finishes off his beer.
"Why do you think Nancy's staring at you like that?" Eddie asks so quietly that Steve almost doesn't understand him.
He's already got little prickles running over his skin, and the slow attention that comes onto him like one careful step after another is lighting him up. It's not a joke thing anymore, it's all like, vulnerable exposure. He feels the cold, he feels his friend's eyes, and he feels Eddie's lips glance against the shell of his ear.
"You know what you're doing," he mumbles at him, going for angry, but failing to get beyond the waver in his voice.
"Yeah, you're enjoying it," Eddie says lightly. "And I think everyone else is curious."
They're all still talking to each other, but nobody's pretending like they're not watching Eddie slowly push Steve's buttons. He thinks Robin must be so used to this kind of thing by now that she's not bothering to look away either, though she still seems distracted by Chrissy.
He wonders if the rest of them are like, into it, or if they're watching like they would watch a movie.
The breeze picks up and toys with his hair, blowing it across his forehead before Eddie's fingers are there, carding it back away from his face. He holds it there, watching him so closely—in an entirely different way than their audience—and Steve thinks his mouth looks like it'd be so warm right now.
It's probably not. It's probably cold, and wouldn't that be interesting? A kiss after they've been outside long enough to get all chilly inside too.
He shivers, unable to tell if it's from like, the temperature or if Eddie's just got his nerves all strung up around his fingers. Either way, his cock is bare knuckle boxing its way out of his briefs in a way that means he's gonna have to give in to something here. Either high tail it inside and grab some clothes or like, give into all of the... give into this.
Eddie looks back at everyone for a long second, assessing things, Steve thinks, and he makes a decision.
"Steve," he murmurs in his ear, and his mouth still feels hot. "Touch yourself."
Oh God.
That's going too far, probably. Like he's already obviously some kind of pervert, but so far he's had the excuse of Eddie and everything that Eddie likes to do to him. But if he just... yeah. God.
Jesus.
What would their friends think of him? Would they hate it? Wouldn't it be like, way too much?
He looks at Eddie and thinks about what it'd feel like if this was a little different, if he was less responsible for what his body's doing. Would he enjoy it? If everyone watching enjoyed it too?
Steve sends a look to Robin, hoping to convey that this is gonna get weird, but he doesn't know if she truly understands because she just raises her eyebrows all so what? and he's not going to say it out loud so—
"Robin's fine," Eddie points out. He's still speaking so quietly it takes Steve a second to get it. "She's still here because she's fine."
Steve looks around at everyone again. They're chatting like he's just a TV set and there's a movie going on for background noise and something to look at. He doesn't know if he likes that or not—would more interest be better or worse?—but everyone's... fine. It's fine.
"See? C'mon Steve," Eddie goads, his smile glancing off of Steve's ear. "Touch yourself."
He almost does it, but he redirects to take Eddie's wrist, holding onto it as he leans in to whisper back.
"Make me."
Eddie chokes off a sound like he's been punched and Steve feels him react, the kinetic energy of his muscles kicking and tensing all flows right into the palm of Steve's hand. He tightens his grip on his wrist.
"Steve," Eddie sighs. He sounds disappointed. "You don't want that."
He doesn't laugh in his face—he's skilled at this by now, at not dumping his heart out onto the ground in front of Eddie specifically—but he does give him fake-dangerous, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.
"And you know exactly what I want, right?" he asks, watching Eddie realize the tables are turning.
Eddie doesn't answer, he's probably got nothing clever and therefore nothing worth saying. Instead he looks down at Steve's erection and then back up at his face and breaks out into a smile like the sun spearing through heavy clouds.
"Okay, I'll make you," he says and pulls his hand free so he can pull the elastic of Steve's waistband away from his body.
It shouldn't make air rush into his briefs—the fabric is thin—but somehow it feels a lot colder and he shudders, bringing his hands back to grip the deck railing. He squeezes his eyes shut, tipping his face up to the sky. He's pretty self-confident, but he's not sure he wants everyone's immediate reaction to this—to him.
Eddie teases his briefs down his body, pausing right before uncovering Steve's cock, and Jon mumbles "take it off" in what Steve thinks was supposed to be a catcall, but he's probably so stoned he can't raise his voice.
"Well, you heard the man," Eddie smirks, and whips his briefs down to his ankles.
The suddenness of it has Steve's abs clenching against the cold and the exposure and the plunge from one part of his life to the next. Now he's not Steve who still has his last shred of modesty, he's Steve who everyone—including Eddie—now knows... really well.
Eddie's facing him, so only Steve can see the way he's chewing on his bottom lip, staring down at the only hot thing on his body. His cock feels like it should be making steam or something, and it's only getting hotter and harder.
"You still haven't made me," he says, just to egg him on.
He wants to be touched.
Eddie breaks out of whatever magic spell his thoughts had him in and he gives Steve a wicked, frenetic smile. Like he's about to really give into something he knows he shouldn't do.
Steve's so hungry for it he has to hold his breath just to endure the seconds before impact.
Eddie's cold hands pry one of Steve's off of the railing and they bring it forward to wrap around his cock. The difference in temperature alone has his voice catching and cracking hard—the exchange of what feels like ice on fire and fire on ice mixes up the wires in his head for a second and he doesn't recognize the touch as his own. Especially not with Eddie controlling his fingers, squeezing him through his own hand.
"Yeah," Eddie breathes, using his thumb to make Steve's thumb sweep up until it presses into the ridge of his head. "You're gonna make yourself feel good so everyone can see."
Fuck. Fuck; Steve forgot for a moment. He moans behind closed lips, watching the heavy gray sky above the treetops, wondering if anyone's looked away or if everyone's still watching, wondering what they think of him, letting Eddie make him do this.
Eddie speeds up his hand and he thrusts into it reflexively, watching his breath trail up in plumes as he starts to breathe heavier. His hand doesn't feel as cold because Eddie's is inexplicably warm—from his pockets, Eddie's wearing a jacket, he remembers—but against his cock it still feels almost like an alien thing, like an Evil Dead hand or something, but in a good way—it feels good, like the opposite of a hot bath... like... a cold one. But if he was too hot.
He stops trying to think about it too hard, instead letting the splinters of pleasure embed themselves into his skin as he does his best to keep his words inside of his head. Please only has a place if he's begging for Eddie to stop but he's never ever going to do that.
"See? I told you it'd feel good," Eddie laughs, though when Steve braves a look at him, he doesn't look unruffled at all.
He looks kind of desperate for something, and if Steve wasn't immediately slammed with the knowledge that the night isn't ending without him coming in front of all of his friends, he'd probably figure it out.
"Eddie," he barely whispers, glancing at everyone out of the corner of his eye.
They're... interested. At least enough of them are. Robin's watching with an energy that Steve would call clinical, and Jon's into it but struggling to even keep his eyes open. The rest of them though... Steve recognizes the look on Nancy's face intimately, and Argyle keeps glancing at Jon and then Steve with the twinkle of an idea in his eye, and Chrissy's chewing on her lip like it can take all of the pent up energy she's putting into it.
It feels right, being like... entertainment for them. All of the attention.
The wind feels right too, and if they had planned this he could bend over and ask Eddie to fuck him—or tell him to, it'd fit whatever they're doing right now—and then he could feel the cold there before Eddie brought more heat.
Shit.
He gives in and participates, squeezing himself a little tighter and twisting his wrist where his body expects him to, thrusting into it in a way that's embarrassingly showy but feels fucking amazing.
Eddie notices and one-ups him, forcing his hand to move faster, taking control of him again. Steve's spine arches back and if his feet weren't like lead planted on the deck, he thinks he could tip far enough to just go over the railing and land in the grass.
Instead he bares his throat and tries to keep up, rolling his hips into their hands, panting and choking off moans and shuddering.
"Don't come," Eddie says in his ear.
The split second of trying to deny himself is what makes him fail, and even as his vision goes crazy with stars and he comes his fucking brains out, he wonders if Eddie did that on purpose.
Eddie lets him direct the end of his orgasm, lets him touch himself normally as it ebbs and crashes back down, and he doesn't try to push it because he doesn't want everyone to watch him torment himself.
"Ah, well," Eddie sighs. "Guess you came anyway."
Steve groans, squeezing his eyes shut again. He's got nothing to hide in unless he wants to dive under Eddie's hair, and hiding would like... tip everyone off that he's kind of embarrassed about all of this. It's better to just look confident and also as blameless as he can.
"You knew what you were doing," he mumbles, ducking his head off to the side—he can't face everyone head on right now.
Eddie laughs and cards his fingers through Steve's hair again, hopefully fixing it and not messing it up more. It feels good, and he lets him scratch at his head while he catches his breath.
"Yeah, and it worked like a charm."
"Damn," Argyle whispers, and Steve melts back into the railing.
Even if he can't look at them, his friends are definitely still here.
Robin says something too quiet for him to hear, but he hears Chrissy's answer of "Me? Does he want that?" and it makes him curious enough to peek over at them. Robin notices of course, and gives him a wicked smirk, flicking her eyes over to Eddie briefly.
God. Right. All of this means Eddie's into him in some kind of way, even if maybe it's only to have something to play around with. Like who else would do something like this with him?
"Yeah, he'll appreciate it," Robin murmurs, and Chrissy gets up and goes inside.
Huh.
"You with us again?" Eddie asks, not in his ear but quiet enough he knows it's not meant for everyone else. "How are you doing?"
Steve sighs deeply, letting out the last of his frozen tension. He always gets really hot when he comes, so aside from like, his toes, he's feeling good in the cold air again. It's soothing, this time.
"I'm okay," he whispers back, trying to read through the neutrality on Eddie's face. "Just... uh. Need a minute."
Eddie smiles and brushes the backs of his knuckles over Steve's jaw.
"Everyone liked watching you," he says, glancing up when Chrissy comes back. "And now you're gonna let them take care of you."
Steve swallows, his mouth going dry. He doesn't think Eddie means it as a sex thing, but the words still call Marco! into the dirtiest parts of his mind and the fantasy of all of his friends using him in one big group shouts back: Polo!
"How are they going to do that?" he asks, and Eddie only answers with a mysterious smile.
He beckons Chrissy over and she stops a polite foot away from him, holding up a face cloth.
"You'll see."
---
After Chrissy had carefully wiped him clean, the hot cloth leaving icy trails on his skin, she had kissed his cheek and thanked him before going back to Robin. She'd been skittish until she'd touched him and Steve had sighed happily, letting his head tip back.
She even cleaned off his cock, and Steve had to tip his head forward again just to see what that looked like so he could think about it later. He hopes she liked doing it, though she seemed more worried about what he thought, so that's a good sign, right?
Eddie comes up to his side and lets him lean into him, and he has a split second fantasy of Eddie and Robin watching him and Chrissy have sex. Would they be jealous? He doesn't really want that... he wants like, sharing.
Just... sharing.
He gets his arm around Eddie's waist, seeking out the heat underneath his unzipped jacket, and Eddie kisses the top of his head. Maybe the showmanship is gone, even though Steve feels like the show itself—himself—hasn't ended yet.
"Hey," Nancy says, putting one careful hand on Steve's arm. It's warm too. "Thank you for letting us watch."
Steve feels a laugh come up and suppresses it. He gives her a sleepy smile instead, sharing the deeply amused twinkle in her eye.
"Thanks for watching," he murmurs, feeling like a pornographic Late Night host.
Nancy kisses his cheek too and goes back to her seat, and now that he's looking for it, Steve sees the subtle way she touches Argyle's shoulder. It's familiar, just on the other side of friendly. He wonders how long they've been in a threesome together. Is it still a threesome if it's long term, like a couple between three people?
A threeple?
Jonathan and Argyle come up together, because they do most things side by side. They each say "Thanks," and "Thanks man," before kissing his cheeks at the same time, making the laugh from before bubble out.
"Anytime," he answers.
Robin comes up last, and Steve's a little nervous. A few years ago she would've been long gone by now, but like any other unprecedented event in their friendship, maybe this one will just make them stronger.
"Anytime, huh?" she teases, squishing his face in her hands. "Be careful with that or Eddie will take it seriously. You want him to whip out your dick everywhere you go?"
Well. He doesn't. But there's an undeniable part of him that goes white hot at the idea anyway.
"He can't make gin decisions everywhere if he hasn't had any gin," he says instead.
Robin laughs, smacking a quick kiss to his forehead. It used to feel sarcastic when she did that, but now he knows it's just casual affection. He thinks it's funny when she's sarcastic with him anyway, even at a weird time like this.
"Thanks for the show," she says, and leans in to whisper, "I'm gonna take Chrissy back to my room shortly. I think she really liked this. So uh... Thanks for... wingmanning? The jury's still out on if I owe you one or not."
Steve glances over at Chrissy. Her face has the same chilled flush to it as everyone else's so he can't tell if any of that's because of him, but she's back to chewing on her lip, her eyes flicking from what he's positive is Robin's ass to his body.
"You had to sit through all of this, you don't owe me anything," he says, a little confused when Robin rolls her eyes.
"We go to the same clubs, I see worse things every month," she laughs. "Honestly... It was... kind of fun seeing you like this. Besides, we already know way too much about each other."
The nerves release into the glow of relief, and he nods.
"Well, if you're ever up for watching me and your future girlfriend," he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows to gross her out.
She doesn't even react, she just sighs.
"It'd probably be educational. If she brings it up I'll let her know you're interested," she says instead, the clinical thing from before coming back. "Besides, if you blow her mind first, I can blow her mind even harder, and she won't be left wondering which of us is better."
Steve should follow the thread and pretend to be insulted. Instead he just beams.
"I've trained you well, young Pandawan," he says.
Eddie full body twitches, but he doesn't interrupt them. Steve shares at smirk with Robin and she claps her hands on his shoulders.
"I'll keep you in the loop," she says, and smacks another kiss to his forehead.
---
Once Chrissy and Robin had fought to see who could drag each other inside the fastest, the others had dispersed too. Nancy had said it was because they needed to get home soon, but the look on her face said that she can see the opportunity in Steve's hands and if he lets it slip through his fingers to continue hosting a party, she knows he'll be disappointed. Hell, she would be disappointed.
"Holy fucking shit," Eddie sighs once the door is shut again. "I can't believe we just did that."
Steve laughs, shivering as he turns fully into Eddie, getting his other arm around his waist too.
"Yeah," he sighs, pressing his cold face into Eddie's neck. "How did you know this was one of my biggest fantasies? Did I talk too much in my sleep or something?"
Eddie swallows, his throat moving against Steve's cheek.
"Uh, well. I didn't know that. I was just... seeing how far you'd let me go," he says. "I didn't really have a plan."
Steve presses closer against him. He's mostly warm, though his belt buckle feels painful against Steve's lower stomach.
"Glad you did it anyway," he says, kissing under Eddie's ear.
It shouldn't feel like such a brave action after all of that, but it crosses a line they haven't yet, even if the one running parallel to it—stripping your friend and making them jerk off—has already been blown away.
"God," Eddie moans. "I'm already riled up, so be careful."
It's not a back off!, but he's not sure what it is, so he pulls away and looks Eddie in the eye.
"Blow you in the living room?" he asks, instead of something nice like about maybe kissing or going on a date.
He's a problem solver though, and he can feel Eddie's problem as hard and clear as glass.
"Take my hand in marriage?" Eddie scoffs, but he's smiling.
Steve just laughs and starts walking him backwards to go inside.
---