Thinking About That Prompt I Found On TikTok About Faking Your Death And Then Coming Back And Knocking

⚠️ 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.

I love this development!

To answer the question:

Puss in Boots is original a German Fairytale written down in the collection of the Grimm Brothers. (There seem to be documents that the tale could also be original from France)

In german it is called:

„Der gestiefelte Kater“

Der is the male article -> the

gestiefelte is an adjective which describes the following noun as somebody/something that wears boots

Kater means Tomcat.

The Tale is about 3 millers sons after the dead of their Father.

The oldest gets the mill.

The middle one gets the donkey

The youngest gets the cat.

The cat can surprisingly speak and tells to the youngest, that if he buys him boots he will help him. The youngest says yes and in the end the cat does a lot of things that end in the youngest marrying the princess and being King.

The one thing I can not explain is why puss was choose instead of cat or Tomcat in the English translation.

I hope this answer the question for all of you reading the post and starting to question the name. (Because you probably only know this character from the Shrek universe)

Why is his name Puss in Boots? It's like calling a rooster wearing socks Cock in Socks

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!

This is probably not what the first Idea really was about, however this is what i thought about direktly after reading the post.

"Eddie, maybe we should stop." Cautiously, Gareth turned to his friend.

"We can always move on at another time." Jeff put his hand on Eddie's back and handed him a glass of water, which he tried to drink in one gulp.

He shook his head vehemently. With one hand he held the glass tightly and with the other he wiped the coming tears from his eyes.

"Eddie..." "No!" he interrupted Dustin directly. "N“ His voice broke off.

"Edward Theodor Munson!" Wayne's voice filled the living room. Eddie wiped his eyes again with the back of his hand and stared at the glass. He could hear Wayne come to a stop beside him.

"We've talked about this! Your throat is still hurt." Wayne's voice was stern and he let out a deep sigh before kneeling beside his nephew. He just put a hand on the head full of brown curls and let the boy cry.

Eddie didn't even try to suppress his tears anymore and the looks from the Hellfire troop were no longer important.

"Boy, I know how important this is to you, but please think about your health. We're glad you're still here, that you're alive!" Eddie didn't dare look his uncle in the eye. "We want you to be well, and that includes you healing."

Eddie and Wayne had had this conversation a thousand times in the last two weeks. Eddie wanted to get back to normal and enjoy D&D with his friends. To have the game to himself again and not leave it to the near apocalypse. But Eddie's vocal chords were still damaged from the damage the demobats had done to his throat.

Wayne stroked Eddie's head gently.

"Kids, why don't you get me a chair from the kitchen, I'm too stiff to kneel or sit on the floor. And you boy show me what I have to narrate for you."

somebody write a fic where Eddie has to do something and Wayne needs to sub as dm last minute and knocks it outta the park because where did you think Eddie got his storytelling skills from?

Reminders for the Anxious/Depressed Creatives

You’re more than what you make.

Your productivity does not determine your value.

It’s okay to do nothing sometimes.

Not everything you do has to result in a product.

Not everything you make has to be important, significant, or even good.

You can make things just for yourself.

You can keep secrets for yourself, whether it’s not posting some of your projects or not sharing your techniques.

You’re allowed to say no.

You’re allowed to rest.

has anyone else ever had a fanfic that just... haunts them? like it's been months and maybe even years since you read it, but it just lingers with you and you can never truly leave behind the imprint it made on you? and maybe it's just a single line, one sentence that you can't shake off, that takes up residence in your mind and stays there, feeding into your psyche and subtly influencing your brainspace and maybe even your writing or other works?

Is there a fic out there when after season 4 Steve doesn't trust/react well to Joyce and Hopper? I just think that him being the oldest and real adult left in Hawkins to deal with and protect the kids would mess him up a bit.

Like, I understand Joyce left because she wanted to protect her blood children and El, but none of the other parents are read in on the situation. She left the rest of the kids after another super traumatic experience where multiple people they knew and cared about died and only Steve, Nancy, and Robin could support them. Not to knock Nancy and Robin, but the show doesn't show them supporting the kids the way Steve does, so it all ended up on his shoulders.

Add in the fact Joyce up and abandons her kids when she learns about Hopper being alive, and then even more terrible things happen, and I feel like Steve would not trust the adults anymore and truly resist ans get upset when they try to parent him or take care of *his* kids.

So I'd anyone has fic recs or wants to write one... let me know...

If you are somewhere else located than in the USA the Trevor project is not 100% accessible to you, however they give you alternatives on their website:

There is help for you too! I am sorry that you have to search for help, but please do. There is always someone able and who wants to help you!

Part 2 to this!

Now that Max and Dustin were vaguely aware of what was going on, they weren’t going to stop until they knew everything. It took about ten seconds from leaving Steve’s driveway for them to start asking questions. 

“Robin…” Max started, “What is he not telling us?”

“That Eddie’s a dick,” she grumbled, “But we’re not allowed to talk about it.”

Dustin crossed his arms against his chest, huffing, “No he’s not! Steve’s right, it’s not his fault he isn’t interested.” 

“If that was the case than ya, sure Steve would be right but it’s not. He’s totally leading him on."

Dustin frowned. That didn’t sound like the Eddie he knew, “How so?”

“Well let’s see,” she lifted a hand, counting it out on her fingers, “There’s the fact he calls Steve shit like ‘pretty’ and ‘sweetheart’ when he thinks no one can hear him. He actively stops Steve from dating anyone else and has scared like five girls away from the store entirely. Not to mention they sleep together almost every night. He just loves torturing him in general! He gets off on the power he has over him, I swear.”

That…did not sound good.

“Well…maybe he likes him back?” Dustin said weakly, praying that there was some kind of misunderstanding and that one of his best friends wasn't being a massive asshole to his surrogate dad.

She shook her head, “I used to think that too until like a week ago. Do you wanna know what he told Nancy when she asked about it? I quote, ‘ Me and Steve? Seriously Nance? I’d rather die. ’” Robin said flatly, resentment heavy in her voice, “And Steve fucking heard him say that and hasn’t done shit about it!”

Max had been staring out the window, trying to rationalize why anyone would do things like that if they weren’t interested, when she froze, “He said that? About Steve? Our Steve?”

“He sure did. And that's why I'm saying it all needs to stop. He needs to fuck off now."

Dustin opened his mouth, so used to jumping to Eddie’s defense before snapping it back shut. He didn’t know what to say. If it was all true then he was going to kill Eddie for fucking with Steve’s feelings, for no good reason. But on the other hand, this was Robin they were dealing with, and her threshold for Steve-related violence was a lot lower than a normal person’s would be. 

She pulled into the trailer park with a sigh, “I’m sorry I put all that out there, it’s just…I needed to get that out. And you guys have almost gotten me killed on more than one occasion so…now we’re even I guess. But don’t tell him I told you! Eddie can do no wrong in his eyes, for some reason.”

They both nodded, Dustin hopping out with Max. He’d bike home later because they needed to talk about this, without Robin there. They thanked her for the ride, standing there in awkward silence as they watched her go. 

“Do you think he’d really do something like that?” Dustin asked as she led him inside, “It’s not that I don’t trust her, but she’s definitely biased.”

Max shrugged, looking just as conflicted as Dustin felt, “I don’t think so? But we should still be on the lookout. If it is true, we’re gonna have to do something.”

Dustin nodded, automatically on board for any hypothetical helping of Steve. They talked for a while longer, another hair-brained scheme forming. They would watch, see if Eddie really was leading Steve on, and if it was true, they’d intervene. The how was yet to be determined, but they would. 

No one was going to hurt their babysitter and get away with it. Not on their watch. 

They spent the next week spying on the two of them, which was kinda easy considering how often they were always together. And things were not looking good.

Now that they knew how Steve felt, they couldn’t help but be mad. Ya, ya, Steve said not to be, but it was bullshit! Because now that Max was paying attention, there was no way Eddie didn’t know how he felt about him. Not with how much time they spent together. And poor Steve was so obvious. 

Robin had been right, he did things just to get a rise out of Steve, like whispering in his ear to see him blush, or calling him one of those dumb pet names, his voice all low and unsubtle. He would even hold his freaking hand! And he always looked so smug about it. Eddie would do one of his stupid antics and leave a stumbling, blushing Steve in his wake, a self-satisfied smirk on his dumb face, like getting Steve all excited and dopey was just so entertaining. 

They were so annoyed that they bonded over it, sharing twin looks of aggravation every time they saw Eddie hang all over him, which was always, with Steve blushing and giggling all the while. 

And they didn’t know what to do about it. Steve had made it very clear that he didn’t want anyone being mean to Eddie over something “stupid”, and he would actually get mad at them if he noticed them acting out against the bullshit. They would have just avoided him entirely if they could, but avoiding Eddie meant avoiding Steve, and that was something neither was willing to compromise on.

So they settled for being cordial whenever Steve was around, and then passive-aggressive when he wasn’t, if just for their own sanity, as they debated what to do about it. 

And Eddie was not a fan of the new behavior. He didn’t know what the issue was with his two favorite little twerps, but they were pissed, and solely at him for the past week. Which, he did not need right now. He was still trying to figure out why Robin suddenly hated him, let alone Steve’s adopted children. 

He racked his brain for anything he could have done, but he always came up empty. If it had been Mike, then sure, he’d have something to go on, making obvious moves to steal his sister’s maybe-boyfriend were fair grounds to be mad about, but he was totally fine. Mike, Lucas, and Will weren’t in on whatever the other two were up to, thank god. He was barely handling dealing with two angry teenagers, let alone five.

Luckily for him, they at least tried to pretend like nothing was wrong when Steve was around. Eddie may not be a genius, but he was pretty sure that having the three closest people to his potential boyfriend hate him, was not a good look. 

Steve was the only one acting the same, thank god. If the three stooges had an issue with him, then that was fine, as long as it didn’t interrupt the long and arduous courting process he had started and planned on finishing. Sooner rather than later. 

He sighed, lazily watching Steve get ready for work from his bed. Though it really was on the edge of just becoming their bed from how often Eddie stayed over. He was already in a hurry, mumbling about how he promised to pick up the two twerps from school today, almost guaranteeing his own lateness.

“You don’t have to always pick them up, you know,” Eddie whined, more than a little annoyed that his afternoon cuddle time was being interrupted.

“But I promised. And you know how they are with that kind of thing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, Steve was too nice for his own good. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist from behind, still pouting, “But wouldn’t you rather spend those last twenty minutes in bed?”

“ Obviously. But Keith’s going to kill me if I’m late again.”

Eddie rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, completely in love with the way the small touch made him blush. How he’d managed not to kiss him yet was a masterclass in self-restraint, “Baby, you’re going to be late anyway if you go. How about I get them?”

“Really?”

“Sure. Then you’ll only have to worry your pretty little head over getting to work.” 

Steve smiled as he thanked him, in that soft way that felt like it was just for Eddie, and it never failed to make his heart do a flip in his chest. 

Plus, Eddie could use the time to interrogate the two little shits and figure out what the hell the problem was. He pulled into the school parking lot, honking at the duo as they waited near the front steps. He rolled his eyes when they tried to ignore him, pretending like they were in some kind of deep conversation.

He leaned out the window, yelling over, “Get in, I’m taking you two home today. Steve called in a favor.” 

They looked at each other, all conspiratorial before they made their way to the van, both sitting down with a huff, avoiding the passenger side. He didn’t know when the two of them got so close, but he wasn’t a fan if this was the result of it. 

They were silent, they didn’t even talk to each other, just stared out the window with their arms crossed. 

“So…,” Eddie tried, “Excited for the campaign this weekend?”

Silence. Eddie glanced in his rearview, both of them still staring out the window, acting like he wasn’t even there. 

“Dustin?”

Silence.

“I know you can hear me man, come on!”

Dustin finally turned away from the window, shrugging, "I can’t make it. Have Erica fill in for me or something…" 

Eddie could feel his eye start twitching. 

Pretending that he didn’t exist? Whatever. 

Purposefully slamming the door for any room that they were in together? Okay sure. 

But missing DnD? Not uh, Eddie was going to get to the bottom of this now. He pulled off to the side of the road, turning to frown at them from the driver’s seat, “Okay, that’s enough! What the hell is wrong with you two?”

Max whipped her head around, glaring at him, and Jesus that kid had a hell of a glare, “What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with you?”

Eddie raised a brow, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he stared at them, “What does that even mean?”

“We know okay?” Dustin hissed out, looking anywhere but Eddie’s face, “We know what you’re doing and we don’t like it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Max scoffed, “We’re talking about how you’re a dick! And Steve deserves better than that!” 

Dustin nodded along, trying to glare at Eddie the way Max was, but he was starting to tear up instead. Like a complete overprotective loser. He wondered if this was how Steve felt when he worried about them. If it was, he was going to start complaining about his coddling a lot less. 

It just wasn’t fair. Nancy, Robin, and now Eddie? When will the torment of watching Steve Harrington's failed love life stop? Why did someone who was nothing but good have to keep dealing with this crap?

Dustin wiped at his face, angry tears still falling, “You know that he likes you and you just mess with him! I don’t know if this is revenge for what he was like in high school but it’s fucked up!” 

Eddie stared at them, slack-jawed as they both started to dress him down. 

Max was digging around her backpack, handing Dustin a pack of tissues while she was giving Eddie the evil eye, "You couldn't have had a bit more tack for the guy that saved your life? I don’t know, maybe ‘He’s not my type,’ instead of “I’d rather die?’ " 

She grabbed a few of them for herself, dangerously close to joining Dustin in the rage crying. She just…wanted Steve to be happy. Was that really so much to ask?

Eddie’s brain was still going a mile a minute, desperately trying to just catch up to what the hell they were talking about, but that brought everything to a halt. He remembered that, a throwaway comment to get Nancy off his back, considering he was in the middle of actively trying to date her ex (?) boyfriend. 

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew that Steve felt something for him, there was no other reason why he would let him do the things he did if he didn’t, but he never forgot just how infatuated he had been with Nancy. He remembered him trailing after her in the Upside Down, like some kind of love-sick puppy. Like recognizes like, Steve had looked at Nancy the way Eddie looked at Steve. He was going to let Steve go after that, acknowledge that it was just a simple crush that would never be reciprocated, and wait for the inevitable of them getting back together.

But then, he went and almost died, with Steve deciding to save his life. His little crush morphed into full-blown love, embarrassingly quickly during his recovery. Steve was just always there for him, and in a matter of days they became instant best friends, both obsessed with spending as much time as possible with each other. 

They talked about anything and everything under the sun, all but one thing. 

Nancy. 

He never asked Steve about her, because he honestly never wanted to know. He had been too chicken shit to just ask, terrified that Steve would start confessing his undying love for her the moment he opened the door. And technically if he didn't know for sure, he could feel a whole lot less like shit for being all over someone else's hypothetical boyfriend. 

He avoided her most of the time, out of pure jealousy for how she got along with Steve, and guilt from the fact he was knowingly trying to, maybe, steal him away from her. But once she moved to Boston, Eddie had been so sure it was his chance. The way Steve would look at him sometimes, the way he would touch him, Eddie knew he wasn’t alone in his feelings, even if Steve needed some extra time to get to where he was, he was more than willing to be patient. 

So when Nancy had cornered him during one of her visits, asking him way too specific questions about Steve, he strategically lied, thinking that it would stop any upcoming jealousy or suspicions on her end, and most importantly, stop her from impeding on his ever-increasing Steve Alone Time. 

But now, his genius plan of gently coaxing Steve into a bisexual awakening and subtly stealing him from his maybe girlfriend was the most moronic thing he'd ever thought of.

He finally found his voice, cutting right through the noise of two kids yelling at him, "Steve heard that?!"

“Yeah, he heard it!” Max hissed, “Playtime is over, you need to leave him alone.”

Oh no. Oh no, no no.

"I'm going to puke, I am actually going to puke,” Eddie turned in his seat, putting his head in his hands, suddenly feeling very, very, ill. The love of his goddamn life heard him say he would rather die than be with him? 

Max and Dustin glanced at each other, confused at his reaction. They weren’t sure what they were expecting him to say, maybe a denial, or a warning to stay out of his business, but not this. Max leaned forward in her seat, frowning as she watched Eddie rub at his temples, looking like he had just heard the worst news imaginable. 

“So now you suddenly care?” She asked, lips pursed as Eddie whipped around to stare at her.

“Of course I fucking care! I love Steve! I-he was never supposed to hear that!” Eddie was dangerously close to hyperventilating at the full realization that Steve was probably still under the impression that Eddie didn’t want him. 

Dustin latched on to that, already hopeful that he had been right after all, and one of his best friends wasn’t a complete ass, "Then why the hell would you say that?" 

He told them everything in a jumbled mess of word vomit, embarrassed and intensely mad at himself for being such an idiot. 

And Dustin and Max seemed to agree. 

Max still had her arms crossed, but she wasn’t giving him the death stare anymore. She glanced at Dustin,  “He’s either lying or he’s the dumbest man on the planet.”

Dustin shrugged, “Well he was a super, super senior, so…”

They stared at each other, having some kind of telepathic conversation before Max turned back to him, “If you are telling the truth then you have to tell Steve.”

“Like now, ” Dustin added.

Max nodded, “In front of us.”

“Or else we will never forgive you for making him cry.”

That was another punch to the gut for Eddie, “He cried ?”

They told him the whole, horrible story, and Eddie was struck with the sudden urge to punch himself in the face. He was already starting the van back up when Max insisted they go to him immediately, u-turning to go straight to the Family Video. He was desperate to fix this stupid shit, and fix it now.  

He parked haphazardly, speed-walking into the empty store with two growingly excited teenagers in tow. 

Robin was reading a magazine at the front counter, eyes narrowing at the sight of Eddie waltzing in, “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to Steve.”

Robin rolled her eyes, “Steve’s busy, you can be a dick to him on his off hours.” 

Eddie almost flinched at her tone, still not used to how cold the usually goofy Robin could be. Which, okay, fair, considering just how bad he looked in her eyes, but he was not leaving until he talked to Steve.

Robin raised a brow when she saw Dustin and Max come in behind him. Max was flipping the closed side over as they entered, ignoring Robin’s protests, and Dustin locked it behind him, just as Steve wandered onto the floor, a stack of tapes in hand. 

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked as he set the stack down on the counter, “And why did you lock the door?”

“Eddie needs to talk to you!” Dustin nearly shouted , hopping from foot to foot with obvious impatience. 

Now that Steve was in front of him, all of Eddie’s nervous energy was reaching a peak. He fiddled with his rings, heart pounding, “D-do you have a minute?”

Steve cocked his head, obviously confused, “I always have time for you,” Steve glanced around the room of wide-eyed spectators, “We can step outside if you want-”

“Nope,” Max shook her head, “In front of us.”

While Eddie was technically grateful the kids told him what was going on, he really wished he wasn’t about to risk getting rejected in front of spectators. He took a deep breath, deciding just to rip the band-aid off in one go, “I’m in love with you.”

Steve just stared at him, jaw slack as Eddie nervously prattled on, “I’m in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you for months. But I’m an idiot, an idiot who loves you, and would certainly not rather die than be with the man of my dreams.” 

Steve was still just staring at him, which, honestly, was probably the appropriate response for an impromptu love confession from his best friend. He didn’t know what to make of that face. He should have asked the kids if they were sure Steve felt the same way, how hard would it have been to ask if they were fucking sure?

At least Robin looked seemingly impressed.

The silence just made him keep going, even if his mind was desperately trying to tell him to shut the hell up, “A-and I thought you thought you were straight, or straightish, and I thought Nancy was after you, and -"

And then Steve was kissing him. He just…waltzed right up and grabbed Eddie’s shirt, pulling him down to crash their lips together. 

Eddie stalled for half a second, in complete disbelief that it was happening, Steve Harrington was kissing him. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him in closer to make the kiss deeper, already fully aware that this was a feeling he would be addicted to for the rest of his life. 

He could vaguely hear Robin squealing in the background, and Max and Dustin gagging, but he was too focused on the sweet taste of Steve’s lips to care. 

He tried to chase his mouth when Steve pulled away, giving him the pretty kind of laugh that made Eddie’s legs feel weak, “We’re both idiots,” Steve smiled, pressing chaste kisses to Eddie’s face between words, “Two idiots in love,”

Eddie blinked, heart still going a mile a minute, “You love me?”

Steve didn’t even tease him for it, kissing his nose like the adorable bastard he was, “Head over heels-”

Eddie was already kissing him again before he could finish, swallowing down his laughs with a happy sigh. 

Dustin and Max watched as their favorite adults made out in the middle of the video store, both kinda grossed out and insanely pleased that they were the reason it was happening in the first place. They looked at each other, grinning from ear to ear, both firmly deciding that meddling in Steve’s life had definitely been worth it. 

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon…Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn’t quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism–and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from ‘giggly happy fun time’ to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn’t either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic–had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling “the 70s basics”) and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn’t exactly been forthcoming–Eddie’s gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; “Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson.” 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn’t exactly the best idea. 

“I regret,” Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. “I regret–hrk–" 

"Me too.” Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

“Let’s go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing.” Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

“Wouldn’t have mattered.” Steve muttered. “Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?” Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

“So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I’d be down there anyway.” Steve concluded. “We shouldn’t have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit.” He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve’s chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

“Come on big boy, why don’t we just siiiit back down.” Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. “There we go…”

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