#oh yall wanted some steddie fluff? here take it

[starrystevie]

as if they belong there, because they do, steve's hands will always cradle eddie's face when they kiss. it feels all too natural how he guides his hands up and lets his fingers brush over eddie's cheeks before finding a home on his jaw line. his hands might not be the biggest, but they can hold him, hold his universe between his palms. they're big enough to have his pinkie brush over the veins in his neck to feel eddie's heartbeat picking up, big enough to scratch his nails over his scalp and feel the way he shudders against him.

keeping his hands on the sides of eddie's face lets steve pull back and look at eddie whenever he pleases, like when he can feel the heat flooding the cheeks under his palms or when eddie smiles into the kiss and he feels the joy of it against his fingers. he can watch eddie's eyes flutter open, watch as they come back into focus only to get a little crossed trying to look at steve's lips. with his thumbs stroking his cheekbones and his fingers tangling in curls, steve can pull eddie back down to him when he can't take it anymore and push their lovesick smiles together.

it's not about control, never has been, not when he's holding a wildfire in his hands. it's about connection, it's about what he thought he could never have the chance to grasp onto real and there and solid under his fingertips. it's about feeling what eddie feels and following where eddie wants to go and knowing that he can drop his hands to curl over his shoulders to bring him in closer and closer until their breaths and heartbeats and worlds feel like one.

as if they belong there, because they do, eddie's hands will always curl around steve's waist when they kiss. he lets steve guide him where he wants him but eddie is the one to ground them, holding tight to the soft sides. his fingers need to stay busy and drum over steve's waist like he's an instrument of his own that eddie's learning how to master. he lets his hands pull their bodies close, close, closer until there isn't space between them, pressed one against the other like one entity.

eddie particularly likes steve's left side, where his scarring was worse after the bites, and how the bumps under his fingertips make steve shudder as he runs his hands over it. it's their common thread, their red string of fate, their missing pieces from an unsolvable puzzle, the scars that they share. feeling them against his palms, under his fingers reminds him that they're alive, they made it and they have each other. keeping his hands on steve's waist, he can feel him breathing his very much alive and there breaths. every stuttering gasp and sharp inhale and whimpering exhale are music of a different kind under his hands.

it's not about owning him, like he's just another piece of eddie's ever growing orchestra for him to use as he pleases. it's about knowing what makes steve tick, it's about knowing what he likes and doesn't like and having the the way he moves underneath him in approval as his evidence. it's about holding steve where he's vulnerable, about holding him where his own hands replaced bandages and cleaned off antiseptic and placed featherlight touches so as not to hurt the only person he could ever let himself fall for.

it's about having the most precious thing in your grasp and knowing how to keep it safe, keep it warm. it's about feeling like your hands can do good when they've caused pain and damage in the name of fear. it's about steve and eddie, being the only thing to hold each other together when they're afraid of everything else falling apart.

#yeah... this literally was going to be two paragraphs what the actual fuck happened #oh yall wanted some steddie fluff? here take it #does bee know how to use commas in a grammatically correct way? the world may never know #steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fluff #steddie hurt/comfort