She's An Icon

My theory of adhd management is that in order to focus there are 4 things that need to be sufficiently occupied:

Eyes

Ears

Hands (or body)

Brain

And if you aren’t occupying them enough or there’s too many things demanding the use of one, it’ll start to wreck havoc on your ability to do things.

So for example, listening to a podcast. This occupies your ears and brain as you focus on both listening and processing what you hear, but it leaves your hands and eyes completely without anything to do. If you tried to sit down and just listen to a podcast by itself you’d probably get unbearably bored and stop doing it.

But if you pair that activity with something that uses your hands and eyes, like a craft, household chore, or commute, suddenly you’re fully plugged in and can in fact focus better on both tasks than you could if you tried doing them separately.

It’s also why you can’t listen to a podcast while doing homework; you’re trying to use your brain for two different tasks. To occupy your ears while doing homework (which is already using eyes, brain, and hands) you need something for your ears that doesn’t require your brain: music. Specifically music that doesn’t use too much brain power, which is why some people prefer instrumentals or songs in other languages.

Hyperfixation and sensory overload change this by moving the threshold for how much sensory input you need to be able to function. If I’m extremely focused on a craft project (eyes, hands, brain) I might not even need something for my ears; my interest in the project makes up for it. If i’ve had a very overwhelming day, trying to listen to an audiobook while I do some stretches could be too much to process. My brain needs a break.

Video games, which pretty much universally occupy all 4 areas, are basically instant, easy focus wrapped up in a neat little bow. No wonder adhd-havers tend to love them.

If you’re struggling with a task, try looking at which areas it occupies and which are left unattended. Then try to find something enjoyable to fill those gaps, and see if that helps.

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⚠️ Warning there is some violence in this so if you’re not comfortable please don’t read.

One day, Eddie Munson and his friends hatched a plan to toilet paper Steve's house. As they were about to drive away, Eddie suddenly remembered something. "Shit, I forgot the eggs!" he exclaimed, jumping into the backseat to grab them.

He threw the eggs with precision, but his aim was off. Steve unaware of the impending attack, opened the front door just as the egg hurtled towards him. It splattered squarely in his face.

Eddie's friends erupted into howls of laughter as Eddie yelled, "Drive, drive!" His friends scrambled to get back into the car, speeding away from the scene.

Steve stormed out of his house, furious. "My dad is going to kill me!" he yelled, egg still dripping from his face.

Tommy stood beside him, seething. "We have to get that freak," he growled.

Seeking revenge, Steve and Tommy headed to Eddie's trailer. Steve thought they'd just return the favor, throwing eggs and toilet paper. But Tommy had other plans.

As they approached the trailer, Tommy started vandalizing it, smashing windows and causing chaos. Steve was horrified. "Tommy, stop! You're going too far!"

But Tommy wouldn't listen.

The next day, Eddie seethed with anger at school. "I know it was you, Harrington," he spat. But without proof, he couldn't do anything.

Steve just shrugged. "You started it."

Eddie vowed to take Steve down, and the prank war escalated. Each tried to outdo the other. Their rivalry turned in a chaotic confrontation at a school event. In the heat of the moment, they found themselves locked in a storage room together.

Steve glared at Eddie, furious. "Have you had enough, Munson?"

Eddie shrugged, a hint of innocence on his face. "I didn't know it would escalate this far."

As they stood there, locked in the storage room, Steve's expression softened. "There has to be something I can do to make it right."

Eddie's eyes narrowed. "Pay me back."

Steve hesitated. "I don't have the money."

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? You're rich."

Steve corrected him. "My parents are. Not me."

Eddie's gaze locked onto Steve's, a sly smile spreading across his face. "There's something you can do," he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Steve's eyes widened in alarm. "Like hell I'm not doing that! What's wrong with you?"

Eddie chuckled, holding up his hands in defense. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Harrington. I just need you to pick something up for me."

Steve banged on the door of Eddie's trailer, and Eddie answered with a mouthful of cereal. "You got it," he mumbled.

Steve barged in, slamming the bag of drugs onto the kitchen counter. "Drugs?!" he exclaimed, outraged.

Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief . "Well, I couldn't go myself. It's too shady."

Steve's face turned red with anger. "Yeah, no shit it's shady! I'm picking up drugs, and you told me it was candy."

Eddie shrugged, still chewing his cereal. "Yeah, and you were stupid enough to believe me."

Steve's voice rose in indignation. "Eddie, what if I was caught? Huh?!"

Eddie's grin was unrepentant. "You said you'd do anything to pay me back, right?"

Steve's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, but not this, man."

Eddie shrugged. "Yeah, well, I need a few more pickups."

Steve's face fell. "What are you talking about? I thought this was it."

Eddie settled into the couch, lighting a cigarette as he gazed out the shattered window now duck taped. You smashed my van windows and my trailer. Do you know how much money that's going to cost me?" He turned to Steve, his eyes stern.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

Eddie's voice was laced with a mix of anger . "Yeah, well, sorry isn't going to fix it." He took a long drag on his cigarette, his eyes never leaving Steve's face.

Steve's voice was curt, resignation etched on his face. "Fine."

As the days passed, Steve continued to make pickups and drop offs for Eddie. He arrived at Eddie’s place, knocking on the door. An older man answered, eyeing Steve warily.

“We don't want what you're selling," the man growled.

Eddie appeared behind him, “Uncle Wayne it’s for me,” taking Steve's hand and dragging him inside. Steve felt a shiver run down his spine at the touch.

Eddie closed the bedroom door, his expression stern. "I told you six o'clock on the dot, not four hours later."

Steve explained, "Yeah, well, my tire blew .

Eddie cut him off, his voice curt. "I don't care about your life story, man. Just give it here."

He grabbed Steve's backpack, dumping its contents onto the floor. “So that’s your uncle,” he asked already knowing the answer.

Eddie's silence was palpable before he replied, "Yeah."

Steve asked, "Does he know?" Eddie's laughter was low and husky. "Yeah, no. He would kill you from where you're standing."

Steve felt a pang of guilt at that. Eddie handed Steve his backpack. "You can leave now."

As Steve walked out, Eddie's uncle stopped him at the front door. "You Ed's friend?" he asked, glancing back at Eddie's closed bedroom door.

Steve hesitated, feeling uneasy about the lie. "Yeah."

The older man's expression turned sad. "I guess you've seen what those punks did to our trailer."

Steve offered a sympathetic apology. "Yeah, I'm sorry, sir."

Wayne raised an eyebrow. "You've got nothing to be sorry about, boy. It wasn't your doing."

Steve gulped, feeling a sense of relief that he didn’t suspect him.

Wayne's expression softened. "Be good to my boy, will you? He might seem tough, but he's really a good kid. Doesn't have many friends."

Steve stuttered, "Y-yeah..." He quickly added, "Hey, I actually got to get home for dinner, but it was nice talking to you."

He hastily walked out to his car, smacking his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. He layed his head on it,taking a deep breath. "I’m such an asshole," he whispered to himself.

Steve arrived at a secluded house, getting lost a couple of times before finally finding it. A burly man answered the door, eyeing him suspiciously. "Eddie?" he questioned.

"No, Steve," he replied.

The man raised an eyebrow, opening the door wider to let Steve in. Steve sat on the leather couch, taking in the scene before him. Men lounged in the living room, drinking and all over them. Steve's gaze landed on one man with a gun holstered at his hip. A shiver ran down Steve's spine as he thought,

He's going to kill Eddie when he sees him."

The man who let him in disappeared, replaced by a taller, skinnier guy who looked annoyed. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Steve stuttered, "Uh, Steve. I'm here to pick up for Eddie."

The burly man sat down beside Steve, making him squirm uncomfortably. The skinny man sat on the other side, shoving a picture of a younger guy into Steve's face. "You know this man, huh?"

Steve shook his head, "N-no, I uh..." he stuttered.

The skinny man leaned in, his voice menacing. "Come on, kid."

"No, I don't, sir," Steve squeaked out, his voice trembling.

The two men exchanged a glance. "What do you want to do, Rich?" the burly man asked.

Rich's eyes blazed with fury as he turned to Steve. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he sneered. "What's your name again, Steve?" Steve nodded nervously.

Rich's smile twisted into a snarl. "Yeah, well, Steve, I'm going to lock you in that basement," he pointed to a door, "and tie you up. Then I'll pistol whip you until Eddie boy gets here."

Steve's eyes widened in terror. "Wait, no, please!" he begged.

The burly man grabbed Steve by the shoulders, dragging him away.

Meanwhile, Eddie answered a phone call in the kitchen. "Steve, are you coming or what?" he asked.

A menacing voice replied, "Not Steve."

Eddie's tone turned icy. "Where is Steve?" he demanded.

Eddie arrived, a hand gun concealed in his boot. He had been warned if the cops showed up, Steve would be killed. As he entered, a man announced, "Rich, the kid's here."

The man proceeded to pat Eddie down, discovering the small handgun. "What, you thought you'd come in here guns blazing?" he sneered.

Rich walked in, laughing. "Look at this, thinks he's some kind of hero." His amusement was laced with menace, and Eddie's eyes narrowed, his grip on his composure tightening.

Rich gestured to the couch, and Eddie sat, his eyes scanning the room for Steve. "Where's Steve?" he grunted.

Rich sat down in a chair, positioning it so that his legs were in front , "Steve's here, but don't you worry about that," Rich said, his voice dripping with malice. "I have some questions for you."

He leaned forward, shoving a picture in Eddie's face. "You recognize this man?" he demanded.

Eddie's gaze dropped to the photo, and his expression faltered. It was Rick. He was confused why would Rich want Rick?

"Yeah, I know him," Eddie said, his voice neutral. "So what?"

Rich's expression twisted into a mocking grin. "So what? Rick, that son of a bitch, sped off with my money, that's what."

Eddie shook his head, his eyes locked on Rich. "I don't know where he is, honest."

Rich's face darkened, and he backhanded Eddie, who felt a searing pain as his cheek throbbed. His lip began to bleed, but he kept his face neutral, refusing to give Rich the satisfaction of a reaction.

Rich's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "How about one of my men starts beating the shit out of that kid downstairs? Will that help you remember?"

Eddie's composure cracked, and panic etched his face as he glanced at the basement door. "I really don't know," he said, his voice laced with desperation. "I couldn't get ahold of him last night, and he's not at his place. I even went to one of his hideouts looking for him. I don't know, really."

Rich's fist connected with Eddie's nose, the crunching sound echoing through the whole house. "Fuck," Eddie groaned, clutching his shattered nose.

Downstairs, Steve's he hears Eddie's anguished cry. He was bleeding from his own head wound, but his concern for Eddie distracted him from his own pain. "Eddie!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the gag.

Eddie's battered body was dragged downstairs, and he landed with a thud beside Steve in the basement. Steve's eyes widened as he took in Eddie's injuries, and he gasped in horror

Eddie's eyes fluttered closed, and he passed out from the pain. Steve was left alone, his own injuries momentarily forgotten as he gazed at Eddie's broken form.

When Steve woke up from the sound of Eddie's labored breathing. With a surge of adrenaline, Steve struggled to sit up, wincing in pain. He gently turned Eddie onto his back, assessing the damage.

With a deep breath, Steve began to tend to Eddie's wounds, using his shirt to try to stop the bleeding as he held the shirt to him , Steve's fear and anxiety gave way to a sense of determination. He would get Eddie out of there, no matter what it took.

I love this, but I won’t be continuing it, but if someone wants it, please message me.

Eddie: Hey, Robin, you know that fae folklore where some fairies have to count salt when it's spilled in front of them?

Robin: Yeesss, where are you going with this, buddy?

Eddie: Well, if Steve trips in front of a fairy, do you think it would have to count his moles?

Robin: I don't know, depends on if his moles taste like salt or not:

Steve: *walking back into the living room* Okay, got the popcorn! I might have - EDDIE!

Eddie had gotten up, grabbed Steve’s face, and licked the moles on his cheek.

Eddie: *gasps* Robin! It tastes like salt. . .AND butter!

Steve: *blushing* Yeah, that's because I ate a couple of pieces. Jesus.

Eddie: *thinking about counting Steve’s moles* I wish I was a fairy.

Steve: Dude! We do NOT like to be called that!

Eddie gaped at him the rest of the night, trying to figure out if he was a mythical creature or not when actually Steve has yet to tell Eddie he's bisexual.

I wish there would be more fluff and domestic shit!

It is sooo good I want more.

More Reactions (especially gareths reaction to the Selfi!!!!)

More Revealings (Dustin?! Robin?! The Internet?!)

More Steddie finding a pace in life together! (Work? Long distance Relationship? Friends? Familie? Sex? Fans?)

I will read it again in the next Days! That is how good this is.

It is a good story. It has a good red string. It has authentic characters. It has good dialog and thoughts. It has a good sex scene (which you can skip if you do not feel reading smut at the moment). It it is captivating. So captivating that I (an ND individual with problems to concentrate, which results in skipping sentences or skipping from Dialog sentences to dialog sentences sometimes) Didn’t skip sentences! It is well written, so you do not stumble over words or meanings.

I could ramble more about it. It is stuck in my brain now!

by Inktastic1711

Eddie Munson has somehow turned playing Dungeons and Dragons with his friends into a viable career. Steve Harrington is a gorgeous actor who doesn’t know he exists.

Eddie starts an online friendship that turns out to be much more than he expected.

Words: 8555, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Gareth (Stranger Things), Hellfire Club (Stranger Things)

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Additional Tags: Modern AU, famous au, Virgin Eddie Munson, Bottom Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Actor Steve Harrington, Streamer Eddie Munson, Fluff, Top Steve Harrington, Gareth has concerns, no beta we were on a time crunch, Anal Sex, First Times, Internet Friends

As the year comes to a close, I just want to highlight all the people that wanted to create this year, but couldn't.

Whether that be due to burn out, lack of inspiration, or simply just not having the time; it's okay. It's hard to center what brings you joy during unprecedented times and these last few years have showed us that plenty.

Just keep chugging along, you're doing fine and we can't wait to see what you've been working on <3

Fuck it, the Steve is bisexual because he ran out of women joke. Flip it. Steve fucked his way through the male population before he ever made it to women.

It was disguised as ‘getting ready for girlfriends’ but Steve was a majority of the boy’s first kisses.

Eddie, who came to the party late, had no idea about Steve’s queer past and assumes he is straight.

Hilarity ensues where Steve does not realize that nobody knows he’s not straight.

He’s flirting with Eddie and Robin is giving him the stink eye because she thinks Steve is playing with Eddie’s feelings.

Tommy, being Steve’s childhood friend, clocks the pathetic pining after being in family video for five minutes. He gives Munson the shovel talk because Steve was his best friend. Eddie on the other hand is just puzzled.

“But Steve is straight?”

“He did not seem that way when my dick was in his mouth.”

Eddie just stares at Tommy, slack jawed.

“Look, I was just experimenting. I don’t actually like men like that, Steve does and he’s all yours. But, you better treat him well, or else.”

Eddie nods, and Tommy leaves.

Eddie enters the empty family video again and screeches like a fucking hyena before jumping onto Steve. They both fall to the ground and just start making out on the floor.

Robin is horrified.

This is enough!

Perfectly filling my mind and soul.

I love it.

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

I love to write this Kinde of comments or when a word is missing/not fitting in []. People who beta for me or are allowed to read my wips seem to love these little insights and comments. I can recommend it for the writing process and also as Entertainment for early readers.

me, struggling to write: hmm, this part is a little difficult. maybe i should check my planning document, which i created as a helpful tool for my writing process!

the planning document:

Mistake P2

TW: Angst, internalised homophobia, homophobia

Steve is scared. For two days. He's felt fear like this before. When Tommy had given him a funny look for looking at a skirt too long, or for not wanting to use fag, or for when Steve leant on him too long.

or around his dad.

He hated the way his belly churned, how his brain wouldn't stop coming up with different scenarios. The upside down was less scary than this. Robin called round once, but he didn't want her to see him, bleeding noes and hiding in fear.

He didn't want her to know.

It would ruin everything, their friendship.

He'd probably ruined it already, by being so stupid, by not thinking before he acted. Maybe if he had thought about it more, he would have seen that kissing Eddie Munson was not the best idea.

Steve curled tighter in his bed.

He thought….

He'd just thought. They were so close. Eddie liked to cuddle, Eddie touched him, so much more than Tommy ever did. Eddie was accepting of the weird and the wonderful.

Of Robin.

Steve sobbed. But not him. Not the kiss. Not them.

He cried.

Cried and cried until he had nothing left, until his face felt dry and his throat hoarse.

Then he got up. He got up and he washed his face, he put the peas from the freezer on his nose and he locked away his heart. It was fine. He would be fine.

Like he always was.

Robin hunted him down the day after, a million and one questions about his nose, but he just told her he walked into the door. Steve didn't want his stupid impulsive action to ruin what they all had, after all Dustin's birthday was tomorrow and he had to be fine.

He was fine.

He and Eddie looked at each other over the crowd at Dustin's, eyes catching one another. Steve feels his heart rate go up, but Dustin is pulling him away, dragging him over to something and he can breathe again.

He could breathe.

As long as he avoided Eddie. He could do that.

It was almost impossible in the small house, but Steve was good at mingling, good at talking to people and as long as he was talking to…

"Hey kid, was lookin' for ya. Got that repair kit you were looking for,"

Wayne. Fuck. Wayne.

Steve's shaking. He doesn't realise it till Wayne's looking at him funny. He liked Wayne, kind man, always talking to him about fixing stuff up, baseball.

He'd thought…

Steve doesn't know what he thought. He'd told Wayne, in the quiet of the night after a game they'd watched.

How he'd always felt a bit different, how he never felt like he fit in any one box and Wayne had said he'd understood. That sometimes love took different forms. That he was glad that he and Eddie had grown close, hasn't seen Eddie look at anyone the way he looks at Steve.

That Steve wasn't alone.

Because someone different had once meant something to Wayne, meant the world to Wayne even though it didn't mean nothing to society.

"Y-yeah. Ill come get it some time Wayne, thanks,"

"Nothing to it kid, you okay? Ya nose is kinda blue,"

Steve twitches, "Nah, it's fine, just walked into a door,"

"Steve,"

Steve whips around so fast he sends the tray of sandwhiches behind him flying. His back is pressed against the wall, body in flight before h can even think about it.

The room is silent.

All he can see are Eddie's eyes. Those big eyes staring back at him. Fear mirrored inside them.

Fear. Why would there be fear, Eddie's not the one who got punched in the face. Steve feels a sudden surge of anger churn his belly.

He needs to leave. Needs to get out of there.

"I have to- I have to go, Dustin sorry," he mumbles as he stumbles out of the house.

Away from the questions.

Away from Eddie.

"Steve wait!"

Steve doesn't.

"Steve please,"

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just let me go. I need to go. I can't. I can't do this right now Eddie. I'm sorry. I'll just.. i'll leave. thanks for not saying anything I guess,"

"Steve no. I- no. I'm saying sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. Even if you're queer."

Steve doesn't know how many times he'll flinch that day. He stares at Eddie who now that he's actually looking at him, looks a mess.

"Even if? Are you fucking serious?"

"No I meant-

"What the fuck?"

They both turn to see Dustin, who's staring at them with huge eyes. Steve's fear returns, a cold icicle in his belly. Fuck. Dustin. Fuck.

But Dustin isn't looking at him. He's looking at Eddie.

"You hit Steve?" Dustin repeats.

"No- "It's not-

"That's what you said. That's what you just said. You hit Steve for being queer,"

Eddie's mouth flaps helplessly.

"Get out. Get the fuck out of my party,"

"Dusty, no, it's fine. It's not like that," Steve tries, doesn't want this to draw a rift any further.

"How else is it Steve? What the fuck else would he mean?" Dustin says, Steve's never heard him so cold. "That's not fucking cool Eddie. I thought you were cool. But you're just another bully,"

Eddie runs.

And Steve watches.

and Wayne curses.

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--- Authors Note: this will have a good ending! I'm just trying to dig into that feeling of messed up emotions from being told one thing your life and not processing it properly. Please don't hate Eddie to much, he's going through it.