Boltedfruit Archive

This year the party at Tina’s is overcrowded and too loud. Steve got here ten minutes ago and already has a headache pounding behind his eyeballs.

He’s rubbing his forehead, is tonguing the fake plastic vampire teeth he’s wearing to dislodge them because now his gums are throbbing, when a werewolf pops up and yells, “Boo!”

Steve winces at the sound, feeling hungover. He lets the teeth sit askew as he grinds his back molars together while Eddie removes the mask, grinning wide and laughing.

“Really, Munson?”

Eddie shrugs. “I knew you were going as old batty, so I figured what’s the number one rival, and,” he adds, leaning in on a whisper, “secret lover of Dracula?”

“A jar of chopped garlic to make it all end?” Steve offers, rubbing at his temples now. He spits the teeth out into Eddie’s offered hand. He slips them back in Steve’s breast pocket, lifting the cheap silky cloak to do it.

“A werewolf!” Eddie chirps, as if Steve hadn’t said a thing.

“Uh huh.” He sighs, the light is hurting his eyes. He squints back up at his boyfriend. He holds his solo cup out, the alcohol inside clear but half drained. “Try this. I think there’s something in it.”

Eddie does so with an amused smile. He swirls it, giving it a dubious look. “You trying to roofie me, Harrington?”

“I’m trying to see if I got roofied. I feel like shit.”

Eddie hums, his humor leeching away to something serious. He eyes the cup, sniffs it. He says, “Come on.” Starts walking to the kitchen.

The mix of dancing bodies and loud shrieking laughter from drunk girls and the booming voices of drunk guys makes him nauseous. Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and lets him lead the way.

Eddie tips the cup over into the sink and goes into Tina’s fridge. He finds a bottle of milk and chocolate syrup and starts mixing Steve a chocolate milk as if he’s at home. Steve wrinkles his nose at the finished drink, but caves when he sees Eddie’s face. He’s worried.

He’s still got the werewolf mask tucked under an arm. He watches Steve drink the rest of his milk before nodding. He raps his knuckles lightly against Steve’s chest before bringing the mask back up and tugging it over his head.

His curls peek out underneath, but Steve doesn’t mind. He looks ridiculous.

Steve smiles when Eddie throws his masked head back and howls, the sound somehow not as grating as all the rest.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. They hurt.

He probably just over flossed.

–

The party drags on, and Steve has taken to camping in the upstairs bathroom. He keeps the light off, head cradled in both hands while he concentrates on trying not to vomit from the pounding bass downstairs. It vibrates the floor, his feet, his legs, his gut. He groans.

He only vacates when the knocking from outside becomes too much to bear. He swings the door wide, glaring at the guy who barely refrains from tipping drunkenly forward against him.

Steve pushes past him, catching a whiff of pizza on the guy’s breath. It smells good; a red meat sauce and pepperoni. Maybe sausage if he’s lucky. He’s downstairs and in the kitchen again before he knows it, suddenly starving.

Maybe if he eats his stomach will settle. He finds the pizza and is delighted when he sees he was right. He doesn’t stop to consider how or why. The slice he shoves into his mouth tastes too good.

The lights still hurt, though. He takes two slices and a paper towel and resolves to going back upstairs and finding another dark corner to eat in peace.

Steve’s at the bottom step when hands paw at his waist from behind. He jumps a foot in the air, pizza almost flying when he turns and sees it’s just Eddie. He rolls his eyes.

Eddie follows him upstairs and into the hall. There’s not as many people up here, but it’s better, more secluded. He leads Eddie down the hall to the alcove housing a large window. It’s nice because it has a bench.

He sits and starts in on his second slice of pizza, savoring the meaty taste at the back of his tongue. Eddie sits and shoves his mask up, revealing only his face and the sweaty plastering of his bangs against his forehead.

Steve laughs a little, reaching up to pull the thing off the rest of the way. “You’re a mess. Get some air.”

Eddie looks abashed. “Glad to see you’re feeling better. Nice spot too. You take all the pretty girls up here?”

“A few.”

“Ah, so I’m nothing special. I see.” He reaches forward to pluck a piece of sausage free. He’s got it between his teeth before Steve can argue.

“You having fun?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not as fun without you lurking behind me. What am I supposed to do without all the girls in town trying to steal you away from me?”

Steve lets Eddie have his crust and moves on to the third slice. “Stop being silly.”

Eddie shrugs again, small smile quirking his lips. “It’s just sometimes I still can’t believe you’re really mine. Y’know?”

Yeah, he does. He feels the same.

In the privacy of the alcove, with the light of the full moon shining on them from the window, Steve leans in and steals a soft peck. When he draws back, Eddie’s blushing. Seems to preen in the moonlight. Looks more beautiful than Steve’s ever seen him.

“You taste like marinara sauce.”

He finishes off the last slice, still hungry for some reason. “It’s really good tonight.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No? I didn’t have anything else after that first cup. I felt like shit until I had something to eat.”

“Maybe you just need to eat more.”

“Maybe. How are you—Whoa, wait. Turn to the left?” Eddie does. “You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Eddie reaches up and finds the small streak of blood at his neck. “I don’t know why. Is it bad?”

“No.” Steve observes, says, “I think your mask cut you a little.”

Eddie makes a face. He scratches at his collar, pulling it away from his neck. “Figures this cheap shit would. I’m so sweaty too. Wanna play nurse for me and patch me up while I refresh?”

He waggles his eyebrows and Steve smiles. He follows Eddie to the bathroom. Thankfully, it’s free.

Inside, he turns the lock and sets out to find the bandaids.

–

Eddie tugs his shirt off and wets a washcloth before wiping himself down. He’s getting under his arms when Steve turns, bandaid in hand.

He peels the paper away, sticks it on the pad of a finger while he uses his free hand to move Eddie’s hair away from his neck.

Eddie maneuvers a little less aggressively as Steve carefully lays the bandaid across the cut. He smears the blood a little, but it’s not a bad cut at all. More of a scratch. Eddie leans in and nuzzles his neck when he’s through.

“You smell good,” Steve says, staring at the blood on his finger.

“That would be me au naturel, babe. You like me sweaty?” He starts laying kisses against Steve’s neck, washcloth abandoned in the sink.

“You’re so gross.” Eddie chuckles. The red on his finger is so bright. “I don’t know why, but everything smells different tonight. Like, more.”

Eddie pulls back. He looks concerned. “You think we should get you to the hospital or something? What if there was something in that drink?”

Steve shakes his head, no. A tingle starts at his nape, spreads, tells him to do it.

He brings his fingertip to his mouth and wraps his lips around it.

Eddie’s blood tastes like candy. It’s heady.

He moans.

“Uh, Stevie?”

He’s sucking his own finger. Only comes back to himself and realizes what he’s doing when Eddie grasps his wrist, brings his hand down.

“Not that I’m not willing to explore new kinks with you, or whatever. But that was kind of…”

“I–I don’t know. I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t—” Steve feels drunk, feels high. His hunger flares, bright and vicious, and he needs more. He burrows his face against Eddie’s neck, kissing and licking over his heated skin. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks?”

“Your skin. You’re feverish.”

“Well, I have a handsome guy feeling me up after all,” Eddie says, and Steve realizes where his hands have wandered. He’s feeling up Eddie’s lean torso, palming over his pecs, his nipples. He flicks each at once and feels the shudder beneath him. Eddie’s hands are clawing at his shoulders, holding him back a little. “Hey, hey. Let’s get out of here and—”

Steve’s nodding, mouth open and wet against the column of heated skin at his lips. “Yeah. Yeah let’s leave, sounds like a good idea.”

“Not like that, sweetheart. I want to go to the ER, get you looked at. This isn’t—god, every time you touch me it’s like this heatwave comes over me.”

“No doctor. Nobody but you, Eddie.”

“Stevie—”

He licks Eddie’s sweat into his mouth, tastes salt, the bitter shadow of what used to be dried blood before Steve haphazardly wiped it clean. He bites the corner of the bandaid and peels it away in one go, spits it out to the side. Eddie winces at the sting of it, and Steve wants to kiss it away, kiss it better.

He latches onto the scratch and sucks at the beading blood.

And he goes loose limbed.

Eddie has to hold him up.

“Whoa, hey, okay. I think you’re taking the whole vampire thing a little too seriously, babe.”

“You—you taste—”

“Steve, I—holy shit.” Eddie goes from panting at the feel of Steve’s mouth to shoving Steve back hard.

He holds them apart, eyes dark.

“Steve. Your teeth. T-they’re,” he says, voice wavering. “They’re sharp.”

Steve blinks the haze away. There’s blood rich and creamy against his tongue and he wants more. But it’s Eddie. It’s Eddie, and it’s his blood, and Steve is—fuck.

He turns and bares his teeth in the mirror, wondering what Eddie even means.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Eddie agrees, eyes hooked on Steve’s teeth in their reflection.

Steve runs his tongue over the sharp points of his elongated canines. If it wasn’t for the very obvious feeling of the fake teeth in his pocket, he’d question if he’d actually taken them out earlier.

“Vampires don’t have reflections.”

Eddie’s laughter is shocked and short lived. “This is fucked up.”

He pulls his lips away from his teeth, looking ridiculous, but unable to stop staring at himself. What the actual hell was going on?

“I can’t be—it’s not possible. Vampires aren’t real, Eddie.”

“All the more reason to go to the hospital.”

“No,” he snaps, hunger and anger blending into one dark cloud hanging over his head.

Eddie just stares back at him through the mirror. He seems to be fighting something, the tendons of his neck straining. He finally whines, long and low, and lowers his head. His neck gleams flushed and barely bleeding.

His eyes are nearly black. His lips are parted.

Steve lets his gaze roam, trailing down the sheen of sweat across Eddie’s chest, down to his jeans where they tent.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie’s nodding, doesn’t break eye contact as he gets his belt unbuckled and his jeans shoved down. His cock springs free, flushed a deep pink at the tip. Steve scrambles for his own pants, pushing them down the same time spit-slicked fingers find his hole. He moans at their reflection when Eddie breaches him with two fingers right out the gate.

The pain bleeds away into nothing as he presses back, eager and wanting. He wants more. Wants the stretch.

“I need more. Need you—”

Eddie’s nostrils flare and he shuts his eyes, cutting the intensity. Steve’s lungs fill back up with air and he can breathe again. But when Eddie lines himself up and starts pressing in, his depthless eyes find Steve’s, has him suffocating all over again.

Eddie pushes in to the hilt and he—he growls.

He noses at Steve’s shoulder, at his neck. Seems to want his skin bare as much as Steve does. He yanks Steve’s polo and cloak off, chest rumbling deep when he can touch nothing but naked skin.

“Feel so good, Stevie. I can smell it on you. Can smell how bad you want me.”

“Oh my god—”

“Tell me again,” Eddie pleads. “Tell me what to do. Command me.”

That tingle is back, deep and dark and leaving his lips before he can process it. “Fuck me and give me your wrist.”

Eddie whines again, and does as ordered.

The slap of skin echoes around them, and Steve grips Eddie’s wrist tight as it slides into view.

“Come on, know you want to. I can smell it. Smell how hungry you are,” Eddie’s saying, like this isn’t the single more insane thing that’s ever happened to either of them.

It doesn’t make any sense.

But he’s hungry, and the hunger has demands of its own.

Steve sinks his teeth into Eddie’s wrist.

Eddie comes with a howl, hips stuttering, a set of sharp teeth sinking into Steve’s shoulder. Those are new, he thinks, dim and distant.

And Steve drinks. He keeps drinking.

Eddie stays buried, barely keeps a constant roll of his hips.

A pressure starts up, a deep heat and—Steve blinks. Sees Eddie staring back at him, lips bloodied over still-sunken teeth. He withdraws, the pain lancing through Steve’s entire shoulder blade. Makes his knees nearly buckle again. Eddie licks at his shoulder, almost apologizing.

“My—I’m,” Eddie grunts low, makes a pained wince when he tries to pull free of Steve’s body. “It’s, uh…it’s swelling?”

Steve takes one last deep pull of the blood flowing from Eddie’s wrist. He removes his teeth, presses a kiss to the twin punctures. He presses his palm tight against them to help the bleeding stop.

“You good?”

Eddie nods. His eyes roll back as he pumps his hips again. He’s dripping sweat.

“I’m gonna,” Eddie starts and doesn’t finish.

Steve feels wet warmth pulse deep inside him again, flooding him. It’s what makes him finish, spilling all over poor Tina’s bathroom sink.

Steve can see a set of sharpened teeth in Eddie’s mouth where it hangs open as he keeps coming. He feels the wet squelch as it overflows, seeping out of him where Eddie’s become locked inside him.

After long, long minutes the swelling at the base of his cock finally goes down. Eddie slips free, come pouring out after he’s gone. Steve shivers.

Then Eddie’s kneeling, is getting Steve’s thighs spread around his head as he starts licking at the mess of Steve’s still half hard cock.

He comes a second time down Eddie’s throat, feels claws pricking his ass as Eddie urges him deeper.

Breathing hard, he eventually slides down to join Eddie on the floor.

“What the hell was that?”

“Don’t know,” Eddie says, looking down at his dick, now soft in his lap. He’s shaking his head. “Felt good though, so don’t care.”

Steve huffs. Agrees.