Fics like why don't you use it; try not to bruise it

“Oh,” Eddie says, voice strained and pitched an octave higher than it’s meant to be. “You’re not normally home.” Astute observation. Steve looks over at Eddie from over his shoulder, not moving from his position on the mat. “Oh hey! Yeah, the gym's closed for refurbs for the next month. Figured I could just do some workouts from home,” Steve says, easy as anything, barely any strain in his voice. As if he isn’t in their living room, legs spread and ass in the air. As if he hasn’t sent the blood meant for Eddie's brain rushing to his poor dick, leaving him entirely unable to think about anything other than what’s under those shorts. Wondering if his cunt is as pink as his lips, what it might smell like, might taste like— Steve straightens up, levels a concerned look at Eddie. Because he hasn’t said anything for a solid thirty seconds, has he? All of a sudden he’s glad he remembered to put blockers on this morning, or else the room would reek of horny alpha, and then Steve would know exactly what has him so distracted. “That’s not gonna be a problem or anything, is it?” and, fuck, he sounds a little unsure, which is the last thing Eddie wants. Yes. Yes it’s a fucking problem.

Fics like why don't you use it; try not to bruise it

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