Eddie Munson - Blog Posts

Steddie meet cute where they both go to a queer costume party where you're supposed to dress as your type.

Steve wears leather and some quarter machine fake tattoos on his neck and arms. Eddie wears a pastel polo. They have not met but they spot each other across the room and make a beeline, basically making out in place of saying hello like 30 seconds after first spotting each other.

Robin is mad because that should've happened to her, except it's a bit hard when Barbarella isn't at the party but you came dressed as her. Steve did tell her to aim a bit more realistic and she called him unambitious, but who ended up with a date from the party?

(Actually Robin scores phone numbers from nearly every single girl at the party because she was dressed as Barbarella, come on)

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

Footsteps pad down the hallway as Steve and Eddie make their way to their bedroom at an honestly irresponsible hour given that they both have work in the morning. Yawning, talking quietly. They get ready for bed one at a time in their small bathroom, Eddie settling under the covers with a book while Steve finishes brushing his teeth.

There's a smile in Eddie's voice when he speaks, the words muffled to outsiders by the rustling of sheets as Steve climbs into bed. Whatever it is, it makes Steve laugh, which makes Eddie laugh too. They fall in and out of bouts of talking and giggling, the only two people in the world - or at least it must feel that way, alone together at such an absurd time of night, in the familiar comfort and quiet of their shared bed and shared home.

They don't know that their teenage daughter is still awake in the room next door, listening to their laughter floating through their house's thin walls. She smiles to herself in the dark, warmed by the simple and genuine joy in that sound.

They don't know that this is far from the first time she's heard them laughing together in private. They don't know that she's absorbed every smile they've given each other, every kiss and kindness and warm conversation she's ever witnessed them exchange, and with every one she has learned what love looks like. She may make a whole dramatic show of gagging or pulling a face at some of her dads' displays of affection for each other (she is Eddie Munson's daughter after all), but they don't know how much she actually appreciates the fact that her parents are still so happily in love, that after nearly 30 years together they still genuinely enjoy being around each other. Their relationship began long before her and the love they have for each other continues still not because of her or in spite of her but simply alongside the love they have for her in equal measure.

There is so much love in this house, of that she has never had any doubt. She loves her dads, her dads love her, and her dads love each other, and those are facts, fundamental truths that have been shaped into the very foundation of her bones as she's grown up. No argument or mistake or disagreement has ever been - or will ever be - enough to waver that. Even in moments of anger there has always been love, unquestionably. They don't know just how deeply she knows that. They don't know just how much she values that.

Sleepy and sentimental, she thinks of friends she knows who have grown up in broken homes and are drawn to broken relationships, and she feels so incredibly grateful for the happy childhood Steve and Eddie have given her and the example they've set of such a healthy, loving relationship for her to look up to. They don't know that she knows how lucky she is to have them.

One day I'll tell them, she thinks as she rolls over onto her side and lets her body grow heavy with sleep. One day I'll thank them for teaching me what love is.

thinking about steve and eddie having a wedding even tho it's not legal, but bcs steve likes parties and he also likes being a bitch, and eddie wants him to get the chance to be a bridezilla as some weird form of enrichment. also because they love each other and whatever, but mostly so eddie gets to watch steve be a bitch to anyone pretentious enough to deserve it

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 4

hello yes i know it's been a while. this part has been a pain in my ass for months. i needed to get it just right and rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. and now, after editing it five times over the last two days, i'm just posting it. what's done is done. if i came back to it again i would have rewritten and i don't wanna do that. so here it is at least. there is also going to be at least one more part. i'm shooting for two more hopefully but i make no promises. the next part could very well be the last. i hope you enjoy :)

ao3 pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

cw: hospitals, dissociation, mentions of overdose, addiction, sobriety, and relapse

Eddie couldn’t move. His body was fighting against every instinct he should have in the moment. Someone could throw something directly at his head, and he wouldn’t react. The buzzing voices around him faded in and out as he stared at a chip in the wood of the table in front of him.

One of Steve’s doctors had finally come to speak with them. They couldn’t say anything for certain at the moment, but he was alive, and that’s all Eddie heard before his head went fuzzy again. His mind was still reeling, caught on the fact that he should have seen this. He should have noticed. He should have been able to help Steve. He failed the only person who’d ever loved him like that, the only one who ever would love Eddie like that. Because Steve was it for him. He’d always known that. No one else would even come close. No one could ever compare to Steve Harrington.

Not only had he failed Steve, but he’d failed Robin too. He was supposed to keep Steve safe. Robin couldn’t lose her best friend; Eddie knew that. He’d promised to take care of him. He couldn’t even do that one thing right. God, what was he going to tell Robin?

They didn’t want Steve to have visitors yet. Eddie managed to gather that much at least. It was still touch and go. He wasn’t awake. They weren’t sure if he ever would be. They’re flushing his system, but it’s really just a game of wait and see. They might be able to see him in the morning, but the doctor wasn’t making any promises. It all depended on how the rest of the night went. If he made it through. They couldn’t say anything else for certain. There had been a lot of drugs in his system. He’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. There was no way to be sure what would happen next. That was all up to Steve now.

Eddie sat there in that uncomfortable waiting room chair for hours. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat or drink. He didn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. He just sat there, staring at the same chip in the wooden table. His friends all tried their best to get through to him. They tried to coax him into eating or drinking something, but their efforts were unsuccessful. No one could get through to him, and he preferred it that way. He deserved to sit in his own silence, letting his brain run reckless and spiral to the depths of his fears and anxiety. He had failed.

He noticed that the more time seemed to pass, the antsier his bandmates got. Though, he couldn’t be exactly sure that’s what was happening. Time escaped him.

Time was such a funny thing, wasn’t it? It can feel like it speeds up, slows down, or stops entirely, but it never changes. It’s always the same. It’s all in the imagination. Eddie was never that good at telling time as a child. Even as he grew older, he found it difficult to keep track. As he sat in that hospital, his entire life on the brink of falling apart at the seams, time was nowhere to be found. Nothing made sense. He just sat silently, staring. People moved around him, time passed, but Eddie didn’t move. He was trapped. His body was at the hospital, but his mind kept bouncing around. From his mom, to Wayne, to Steve on the bathroom floor. An endless cycle. Eddie was hanging on by a single thread: the only thread of life left in Steve.

Eddie would never survive if Steve didn’t make it out alive.

Eddie was aware that a long time had passed only by the ache in his joints and the dryness of his mouth. He also sort of needed to pee, but that wasn’t important. At least, not important enough to warrant getting up. He couldn't move. He needed to stay right in that spot. Nothing was more important than that.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne’s gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. Eddie stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s time to go, kid. We’ve gotta get to the reception.”

Eddie stood silently, staring straight ahead at the marble headstone. His mother’s name was engraved with curly letters. Eddie hadn’t known that was possible. There were piles of flowers that he knew wouldn’t be there next week. He didn’t speak. His feet were glued to the soft ground beneath him. His suit was itchy and his worn dress shoes were a size too small. The tie around his neck was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe.

He broke down right there, tears rolling down his cheeks and gasping sobs bursting from his chest. He sank down to the ground at the foot of his mother’s fresh grave, clawing at the stupid red tie that his mother had bought him two years prior and the collar of his white dress shirt. Wayne sighed softly and sat down beside him, gently pulling his hands away and shushing Eddie as he loosened the tie. He let him collapse against his chest, tie almost completely off and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. Wayne held him through each wracking sob and stuttering breath, murmuring comfort until he’d gotten it all out.

“I couldn’t do it, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered hoarsely. “Why couldn’t I do it?”

“Do what, Ed?”

“Save her.”

Why couldn't he do it?

“Eddie, seriously, you need to eat something,” Jeff said, holding out a bag of chips from the vending machine. Eddie stared blankly at the bag, seeing but not really. He heard the words coming from Jeff’s mouth, but his body refused to respond. He couldn’t quite fully process what he was saying. It slipped out of his head before he got the chance, replaced with his mother’s voice, or Steve promising he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. It was just weed. Nothing more. He was fine.

He lied.

What else had Steve lied about? What else was he keeping from Eddie? Every time Steve came home late, claiming some generic excuse about work or traffic or whatever else it may have been, how often had those been lies? What had he been doing instead? Getting high? Shooting up in a parking garage somewhere? Was he ever with someone else? Someone who wasn’t Eddie?

Steve would never cheat. Eddie had to remind himself of that over and over again. Repeat it on a loop in his head. Anything to get it to stay there.

He would not cheat. He would not cheat. He would not cheat.

But he would lie.

Eddie has never been insecure about their relationship before. He loved Steve more than anything. He always knew Steve felt the same. Steve loved him. No questions asked. Eddie knew. He didn't need to be told that Steve loved him. It was just obvious. Now, though, Eddie was second guessing everything. Why would he lie? If Steve could lie so easily about something like this, what else had he lied about? Had their whole relationship been a lie? Has Steve ever told him the truth about anything?

His brain swirled with more thoughts, more insecurities. He stared at the chip in the table as he spiraled. His fingers and toes were tingling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, a nightmare. Any minute now, he was going to wake up. Everything would be fine. It was just one big nightmare. He would be laying in bed next to Steve, who would be snoring softly. He would roll over and tuck his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He could hold him tight, bury his nose in the back of Steve’s neck and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. He could fall back into a peaceful sleep with Steve in his arms, safe and sound.

Except he wasn't waking up. No matter how much he tried, no matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it didn't happen. He was trapped. There was no escape. Steve wasn't there. He may never be there again. This was all Eddie’s fault. If only he’d noticed. If only he cared enough. None of it was enough. Eddie wasn’t enough. He never should have expected to be enough for Steve. Steve deserved better.

Eddie never should have asked him to come on tour with them.

If Eddie hadn’t asked him to go, this never would have happened. Steve would be at home, in their apartment with Robin, probably sleeping in her room every night. He hated sleeping alone. He’d be sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of Eddie’s hoodies and the threadbare blue blanket they took from the trailer when they moved, watching movies with Robin and a bowl of popcorn. He wouldn’t be dying in a hospital in New York. He’d be happy and safe. Eddie would miss him like hell, but at least he would be safe.

The sun was shining, blindingly bright, through the tall windows on the far wall of the waiting room when the doctor finally came back. Eddie’s knee had taken to bouncing anxiously a while ago, maybe an hour, maybe more. He can’t be sure. His brain had mostly come back online, but he still felt a little foggy. Untethered. His world was unbalanced. His ears were still ringing even as the doctor started talking. He barely heard a single word. Snippets of information filtered through the fog. Stable. Made it through the night. Up to Steve now. ICU. Visitors. The next thing he knows, Jeff is leading him through the halls with the doctor. It’s just the three of them. Other doctors and nurses bustled around them.

They finally crossed the double doors into the ICU. Eddie’s heart pounded as the doctor led them over to one of the sliding doors. She opened it, and Eddie couldn't move. He could hear the machines inside, see the edge of the hospital bed. If he turned his head a little, he knew he would see Steve. The doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed. She flipped it open and clicked her pen, writing things down and glancing at monitors.

“Eddie, why don't we go inside?” Jeff suggested softly, his hand on Eddie’s arm. “Steve needs you right now.”

Eddie's feet moved of their own accord, taking slow steps into the room. Jeff followed behind him, closing the door once they were both in the room. He carefully led Eddie over to the chair, giving him a light push on the shoulder to sit him down. As soon as he was close enough, Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand. An instinct he would probably always have. It didn't matter what was going on in his brain. If Steve’s hand was there, Eddie was holding it.

“Is he okay?” the doctor asked gently, nodding to Eddie.

Jeff sighed. “I hope so. This is all really hard on him.”

“How long have they been together?”

Jeff looked up, a little startled. It may have been New York, and queer relationships were a little more accepted than they were just a few years ago, but Steve and Eddie had always been careful. Cautious. They all had. But she was quick to respond before Jeff could even think to redirect.

“It’s okay, really. I know what love looks like. I would look at my partner the same way if something like this ever happened to her.”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced at Eddie, who had his eyes glued to Steve’s hand in his. “Um… it’s been almost eight years now. They’ve been through a lot together.”

She closed the chart and put it back at the end of the bed. She nodded a few times, watching the machines that beeped rhythmically. “I’m going to hold on to hope,” she said softly. “For them. For everyone like us. I can’t say anything for certain; this is all up to Steve. We’re doing everything we can. But I’m holding on to hope.”

“I guess that’s all any of us can do now, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” She cleared her throat and took a step back from the bed, turning to Jeff. “I have other patients to round on, but I’ll be back to check up on everything in a couple of hours. If you guys need anything, just let one of the nurses know.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell through the room as the doctor left. Jeff took the chair in the corner, letting Eddie have whatever time he needed. He was mostly there for Eddie’s sake; someone had to make sure he would be okay until Wayne got there. Truthfully, they were all out of their depths here. No one really understood what was happening in Eddie’s brain. Not even close to the way Wayne would.

They sat there in total silence for a long time. It's unclear to Eddie just how long, but long enough that Jeff had gotten up four times. Once to get food, once for the bathroom, and twice to hit vending machines and coffee. Not that Eddie accepted anything Jeff offered him. His body still felt wildly disconnected from his brain. His limbs were heavy. He also knows it's been long enough that nurses have come in to check on Steve eight times, and his doctor has been back once. It seems the only thing Eddie’s mind can keep track of is how many times someone has entered or exited Steve’s room in the ICU.

Jeff gets up for a fifth time. Another bathroom break, from the few words Eddie managed to retain. The door slid shut behind him, and Eddie was alone again. He squeezed Steve’s hand three times, desperate for any sign that he's still there. That he's fighting for Eddie. Nothing happens. The machines beep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with the calculated breaths of the ventilator. Steve’s eyes shift beneath his eyelids, but they don't open. They won't open. The door slid open again, and Eddie assumed Jeff was back, though it seemed like he wasn't gone very long. And then he hears it.

“Oh, God.”

Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of Robin’s shaky voice behind him. She looked wrecked. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. Wayne was standing beside her, looking somber. He watched her take a rattled breath, crossing the room slowly. Her eyes don't leave Steve. Wayne followed a few moments later, coming to stand behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder. Eddie wanted to break. As if he hadn't been slowly breaking this whole time.

“They- they said it was an overdose?” Robin asked softly, her voice cracking at the end. Eddie merely nodded, still trying to find his voice. “What- what happened, Eddie? Was it- was he drugged? How- how did this- did he relapse?”

“Relapse?” Eddie croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. That didn't make any sense. For Steve to relapse, he would have to be…. “He- he was clean?”

Robin frowned, and her gaze finally found Eddie. “What do you mean he was clean? He's been clean since ‘85, Eddie. I- I helped him, after Starcourt.”

All the air left Eddie’s lungs in an instant. This was all his fault. Steve was- he was clean. Sober. And Eddie ruined that. He gave Steve weed. He brought him on tour. He took him to parties full of temptation. He killed Steve.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered.

“Eddie, you have to tell me what's going on,” Robin begged. “When did he relapse? Why didn't he call me? He promised he would talk to me if he wanted to get high again.”

“I- Oh, God. I didn't know. He- he didn't tell me.” Eddie couldn't breathe. His heart squeezed in his chest, and his lungs pushed the air from his body until there was nothing left. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it back. He was already hyperventilating. “This is all my fault. Oh my god, it's all my fault.” He was distantly aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks again.

Wayne stepped between Eddie and Robin, crouching down to look up into his nephew's face. His hands were solid against Eddie’s skin, just like they always were. “Ed, you need to talk to me. Take a breath, kid. I'm right here, but you have to tell me what's going on.”

Eddie’s breath stuttered halfway through his chest. “I didn't know, Wayne.”

“What didn't you know, Eddie?”

“I didn't- I didn't know he was sober. I- I thought I- I was just trying to help. I- I gave him weed. I did this.”

Robin’s expression hardened. “You did this to him?”

“I'm so sorry,” Eddie choked out between sobs. “I didn't- I didn't know. I was just trying to help. And- and then he- I knew he wasn't telling me something, but- but he promised it was just weed.”

“Get out.” Robin’s voice was firm, but he could hear the trembling fear behind it.

“What? I-”

“Get out. Get out, right now. You did this, Eddie. He was doing so good until he met you! And now he's dying! So get the hell out, before I make you!"

It was at this moment that the door opened for Jeff’s return. He paused just inside the doorway. Wayne stood up, facing Robin.

“Now, Robin, I think-”

“I don't care!” Robin’s hands were shaking. “This is his fault! I want him out, right now! Or I swear to God, Wayne, I'm going to kill him.”

Wayne glanced back at Jeff, who was the perfect picture of confusion. “Jeff, take Eddie into the hall.”

“What-”

“Don't ask questions right now,” Wayne said sternly with a shake of his head. “Just take him to the hall. I'll be out in a moment.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, and Jeff had led Eddie a little ways from the room, he finally snapped. His knees gave out from underneath him, and Jeff was the only thing holding him up as he sobbed.

This was all his fault. He killed Steve.

First his mom, now the love of his life. It was all his fault.

-----

taglist: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson @captainoliimar @ilikeititspretty

Eddie who did all kinds of odd jobs for extra cash and ended up acting as a mascot for a football team.

He had to admit while he wasn't the biggest sports fan out there, the chaos and overflowing energy of the games made the blood run hot in his veins. The enthusiasm, the booming cheering and the loud music almost compensated for the stuffy red bird costume he had to squeeze into every couple of days.

The only saving grace was that Eddie always ran cold, so unlike some of his poor co-workers, he didn't sweat buckets during his shift, and he got to revel in the fun while being his dramatic and goofy self. He danced around people, teased them, joked with them, and posed for their photos.

One of many things that he enjoyed was the kiss cam. As much as Eddie tried to pretend otherwise, he was a romantic at heart, and seeing so many people having fun and being in love really made his day.

Sure there were awkward moments as well where family members were mistaken as couples, but it was just another thing to laugh at, just another tale to recall when they gathered around the table and had dinner together some days or some years later.

Perhaps, that was why when the big screen showed a pretty boy—and damn, Eddie could spend forever to wax lyrical about those pouty lips and doe eyes and perfect hair and handsome jawline. And Eddie wished he could trace those cute little moles with his tongue, to draw constellations on that golden skin and find the answers of the universe—who got ignored and then brushed off by his boyfriend despite his attempts to tell the guy they were on kiss cam, Eddie felt so offended on his pretty boy's behalf.

Without hesitation, Eddie stalked over to their row, took the popcorn from Pretty Boy and upended the whole box over the boyfriend's head just as the guy finally looked up from his stupid phone, relishing the cheers the other spectators gave him.

He then booed at the fuming bastard who looked two seconds away from blowing a casket, pulled Pretty Boy into his chest, and nearly bumped his fist into the air when Pretty Boy giggled and hooked their arms together.

He didn't think, really, he just signaled for Bob he had to go for a while and took Pretty Boy back to the staff room where he peeled off the mascot costume and finally revealed himself to Pretty Boy.

Eddie slightly regretted his impulsive decision because he wasn't looking his best right now; his hair was put up in a tight bun, his face was flushed and sticky with sweat. He only had on a black Metallica cut-off, a pair of sweat shorts for easy movements, his rings, and nothing else.

In contrast, Pretty Boy looked like a model walking right out of a magazine with his baby blue striped polo, washout jeans, RayBan perched on coifed chestnut hair, and worn sneakers.

"I'm Eddie," he introduced, panting a little because of the heat and the pace his heart was slamming against his ribcage. "I hope I'm not bothering you, pretty boy."

Smiling coyly, Pretty Boy leaned in his space and holy shit, Eddie had to swallow the pool of spit gather in his mouth when he detected the floral and fruity notes from Pretty Boy's cologne and body wash. This close, he could see how those hazel eyes dilated, how those plush lips parted just slightly, tempting him to take a taste.

"Hi Eddie," Pretty Boy said, glancing up at him through those pretty eyelashes. "I'm Steve. But you can always call me Stevie, sweetheart, baby, or pretty boy."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the cheekiness. God, they just met ten minutes ago but this boy was proving to be the death of him.

"Pretty baby, then," Eddie lifted his hand to brush Steve's cheekbone with the back of it, smiling fondly at the blush that crept up on the soft skin. He met Steve's gaze and raised a brow. "What do you think?"

"I think," Steve licked his lips, red and kissable. "I think you should kiss me."

That Eddie could do. He would happily listen to the sweet little noises Steve made for as long as Steve had him.

He told Steve as much and they ended up going back to his apartment where he showed Steve what it felt like to be his boy. His baby.

Some years later, Eddie made sure to kiss the daylight out of his boyfriend when they were caught by the kiss cam. He wanted to brag as loud as he could that he was the man who had bagged Steve Harrington.

And when someone booed at him for showing off, he flipped them a bird through the camera, making Steve giggle against him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington. I love when he knows himself, knows the truth of his identity, knows that how he views men isn't a fluke. I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington who dates girls and has sex with girls to protect himself, to keep an image, to try and earn an ounce of recognition and respect from his dad.

I love secretly closeted Steve Harrington who recognizes Robin's bravery when she came out. But he keeps his secret to himself for a while longer. Who joins in on the joke of just how bad he is at pulling girls. Who upholds an image as just that, an image.

A secretly closeted Steve who gets frustrated at the projection painted onto him. Steve Harrington the ladies' man. Steve Harrington who gets the girl. Steve Harrington who can get into bed with any girl he wants. He's frustrated and he hates all the assumptions, but he can't shake them, can't explain why—not without revealing himself. But he knows who he is. Knows the type of person he wants.

I love when he's nervous, but still proud. Who, slowly and surely, cements his identity within himself—so it transcends knowledge, it's deeply intertwined within. He goes to Robin first, because he feels as though that's a good first baby step—because he knows for certain that Robin will accept him. And, with minor hesitance, goes to Nancy. And with a long conversation, some tissues, and gentle smiles passed back and forth, Nancy then understands, too.

The last person is Eddie. Which is harder. Which frustrates him further. Because Eddie won't stop asking him about women, won't stop categorizing him as straight, some god among men. He just wants to be Steve Harrington. Not Steve Harrington. Not ladies man, Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington who likes men. Only men. Who compensated for years just so he can uphold a safe life for himself, who was threatened constantly (though not directly at him) by what his dad would say about those queers, who covered for himself the only way he knew how.

And though it takes longer, some deep wounds and harsh words about how he isn't experimenting, that his sexuality can't just be decided for him, that he has a right to explore—even if the exploration never amounted to anything—Steve is able to get Eddie's trust. Eventually, again slowly, get Eddie's hand intertwined with his. And even later after that, a shy kiss; his first kiss with a man that aids in solidifying the last, hairline fracture in his whole.

Steve Harrington who is gay and learns over time to be proud of that. But also, closeted Steve Harrington who goes on the journey to get to the end result—I love him so so so much and he means so much to me. And now I need to write him and make this version a reality.

Hide Your Heart pt. 5

Part Five of my Steve has bad parents au, this is going to be the second to last chapter sadly

CW: physical abuse, use of the f-slur once and use of the word queer as a slur

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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“Oh don’t let me interrupt you and whatever girlfriend is on the other line.” His father sneered, “must be pretty special to throw around words like that.”

He hated when his father was drunk, all formality was swept from his demeanor, leaving nothing but casual cruelty. All bared teeth and dangerously swaying steps, unstable. Steve didn’t know which of his carefully crafted responses would set him off. 

Steve knew what happened next couldn’t be more than four or five seconds but time slowed down around him. He heard Eddie’s worried, very distinctly male, ‘Stevie?’ from the phone distantly, like it was coming from another room—another world. Both his and his father’s eyes dropped to the hanging phone. Steve had half a second to think up frantic excuses before his stool was tipping over, dragging him with it to the ground with a resounding crack. His father reached for the phone only to slam it against the wall with enough force to crack the plastic.

“Who was that?” He practically screamed, “Didn’t sound like no girl to me!”

Maybe you’d know if you didn’t smash the phone, Steve wanted to retort but he was being dragged up and into the cold metal of the fridge by his shirt before he could open his mouth.

“I asked you a question, boy!” A jab to his jaw, it didn’t hold much power but it would leave a bruise.

“No one!” One of the only people who cares about me, one of the only people who can stand to be around me. “He was—he wasn’t—”

His father flicked a hand across his face, knocking his head back into the fridge. The bridge of his nose burned and he knew his fathers seldom worn wedding ring had split the skin. 

“You have no business speaking that way to a boy! That is not how a Harrington bahaves!” His father spat.

“I’m sorry—! I didn’t—” Steve never got to finish his sentence, a fist slamming into his face, catching his nose and lip, stopping him before he could get another word out. He choked on the gush of blood that ran down his upper lip and filled his mouth.

His mother chose that moment to rush into the kitchen, right as his head started spinning, “RICHARD!” She gasped, “What—?!”

Steve’s father released his shirt with a shove, throwing him into the cabinet where he stumbled to the floor, rubbing his back against the bruise forming from the handle.

His mother hadn’t stopped yelling at his father, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, “What on earth has gotten into you?”

Don’t act like you don’t know, Steve so desperately wanted to say, don’t act like we didn’t both know this was coming. He could do nothing more than fight the stinging in his eyes, knowing if he cried it would only enrage his father further. He could only tip his head back and try to breathe through his bloody nose and mouth. 

“I didn’t raise no faggot!” His father boomed, “What would your mother think?” He jeered.

I know, Steve thought, I know for all she used to love me that this is too much. And he did know, this was the one thing that would sever whatever connection they had left.

“Why would you ever say something like that, Richard?” His mother turned to him, though, with eyes almost pleading as they locked on his, “Steven, honey, whatever this is I’m sure it’s a big misunderstanding.”

Apparently that was what did it for Steve, hearing his mother so quick to dismiss him, so quick to brush past all the abuse, now physical. 

He pushed himself up, shaking his head, “You don’t know that.” He mumbled, “You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

Steve hadn’t meant to yell, hadn’t meant to say anything at all really but once the words were out there was nothing he could do to shut up. He’d opened a vein and everything that had kept him going was spilling out with the blood on his face.

 “You don’t know who my friends are, you don’t know that I can’t sleep alone anymore or that I can’t stand the empty silence in this goddamn house because you weren’t there! You couldn’t be bothered to—I was dying in an overrun hospital, beside my unconscious best friends and you couldn’t be bothered to show up! You never even called! You’re never here!”

“I will not be talked to like this, not by the likes of you. Get out of my house!”

The likes of you. The freaks and the disgusting disappointments.

Steve knew he was crying before he felt the angry tears burn hot streaks down his cheeks. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that his father’s fist clenched again, it didn’t matter that his mother was reaching for him because he was already backing out of the kitchen.

“You don’t care!” Steve croaked, wiping his nose and wincing as his hand came back slick with a fresh wave of blood, “Why don’t you care?!” He heard his voice break, felt the pressure building behind his eyes and nose. 

“Steven,” his mother reached for him again but he yanked his arm away.

“No, no, no, don't ’Steven’ me. I-do you know how shitty you are? I’ve spent the last 13 years of my life alone, wondering what I did. What I could’ve done to disappoint you when all I do is try. Wondering why you couldn’t find it in you to love your only son!” His vision was blurry with tears, breathing turned to hiccups, “I’ve done everything you wanted. I played sports I didn’t like and dated girls I didn’t know to keep up your fucking image and you still left me every single time you went on another ‘work trip’ so don’t you dare pretend to care about me now, now that I’m a fucking queer and you need to fix me!” 

He stomped out of the kitchen, grabbing and yanking on the first sweatshirt he saw hanging off of the banister at the bottom of the stairs, it was Eddie’s. Of course it was, everything in the house had shaped and molded around him because he’d come and taken up space and filled the hollow silence in Steve’s life and now his parents were back and undoing it all.

He didn’t wait for a response before he slammed the door, knowing he wouldn’t get one. He did wait, though, outside with the back of his head pressed to the door, hoping maybe his mother would go after him. Hoping she would pull him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and head, make him tea in the kitchen before sending him to bed and telling him they would talk in the morning. Tell him she was sorry and ask what he wanted to have for dinner when they invited Eddie over to meet him. She didn’t. The world stayed a bittersweet quiet.

Steve checked his pockets, cursing when he turned up with no keys. He wanted—he needed to leave as soon as possible, as fast as possible.

Steve didn’t know where he was going when he ran. He just needed to get away, sprang and bolted, all the pent up anxiety left over from the Upside Down fueling his legs. He didn’t know he was headed towards Eddie’s house until he trudged shoulder first into the Forest Hills sign, head down and arms crossed so tight around his middle he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t cut off his circulation. What if Eddie didn’t want him there? What if he was busy or just done being hidden, maybe he decided Steve wasn’t worth the trouble anymore, what if he was right— 

He was knocking on the Munson’s door, the sound echoing through his ears. It was too late to turn back now, fuck he should’ve called again. When would he have the time, between crying to getting kicked out and slamming the door?

Wayne opened the door, tired eyes taking in what Steve could only assume to be his disheveled appearance. His hair was flat and sticking to his forehead. Blood crusted under his nose, dripping down his split lip and staining his favorite sweatshirt. He would have to get it dry cleaned before he gave the wrinkled hoodie back to Eddie. He hadn’t even tied his shoes for Christ’s sake, feet shoved in hastily and tangling with the laces.

Before he can even open his mouth Wayne has a hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the door, “Let’s get you cleaned up, kid.” He sighs.

 Kid, it’s just a word but he’s tearing up again, hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the noise. Wayne calls him kid and it isn’t condescending, it isn’t spoken from a place of superiority or annoyance. Wayne calls him son and he doesn’t hear it in his fathers voice, he doesn’t hear the dripping disappointment that clings to all of his fathers words. 

He’s being walked to the kitchen and sat on a barstool. His vision’s blurred and his nose is swelling, causing the pressure behind his eyes to increase, but he could still make out the man digging around in a drawer for a wash cloth. He held it under the sink and wrapped a couple ice cubes together.

“Hold this here,” Wayne told him, pressing the makeshift ice pack into his hand and holding it to his face, “Ed’s been worried sick, practically had to tie him to his seat.” With that Wayne walked off, towards the back of the trailer, “Eddie! Get out here, would ya?” He knocked on Eddie’s bedroom door.

“Was that the door?” Eddie asked, looking around Wayne as he swung the door open.

Steve saw the moment Eddie noticed him sitting at the counter, his brows furrowed in confusion before twisting to concern.

“Steve, oh my god, are you okay?” He breathed, scrambling to the kitchen, “What happened, I tried calling again but it wouldn’t connect.”

“Yeah my father kind of smashed the phone.” Steve managed to mumble around his numbing face.

“What the fuck?” Eddie reached for his face, brushing his hair away from the damage with one hand and holding his jaw with the other, carefully avoiding his nose, “He do this too?” Eddie asked, swiping his thumb under Steve’s uninjured eye.

Steve looked away but that was all Eddie needed, “What the fuck?” He exclaimed again, at the same time Wayne scoffed out a “what kind of man—”

“It’s fine—” He started, on impulse maybe, but he didn’t even get the words out before Eddie was shaking his head.

“Don’t do that, don’t say it’s fine. You know it’s not fine. You didn’t deserve this or whatever else you’re telling yourself.”

When Steve stayed quiet Eddie spoke again, “Tell me you don’t think you deserved this?”

Uncomfortable silence blanketed the once comforting room, at least for Steve. The others must have felt it too because Wayne coughed and muttered something about finding the first aid kit before exiting the room.

“Steve—”

“Why else would he do it?” His jaw hit the hands still tilting his face up with every whispered word.

Who says I don’t? What if he’s right and I’m just a screw up? This might’ve been the final straw but Steve would never stop blaming himself for the emotions of his father. He wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the case that Tommy broke in eighth grade and the weeks he was grounded until he could pay for it. It was his fault, really, if he hadn’t been so clingy he wouldn’t have called Eddie. If he hadn’t been so selfish he never would’ve woken him up in the middle of the night and his dad wouldn’t have heard them. It was his fault for not hanging up in time and it was his fault making up some lie. He done it before, so why was this time any different? 

Uncomfortable silence blanketed the once comforting room, at least for Steve. The others must have felt it too because Wayne coughed and muttered something about finding the first aid kit before exiting the room.

“Steve—”

“Why else would he do it?” His jaw hit the hands still tilting his face up with every whispered word.

Steve may have been sheltered financially but he knew this kind of thing happened to people all the time. He knew that they didn’t deserve it and the people that did it to them had no excuse other than being horrible people but that wasn’t—this wasn’t like that. He got to live in a big house all alone for free, he got a monthly check every time his parents took a trip, they weren’t—

“Because he’s an asshole. I wish he wasn’t, baby, I wish this hadn’t happened but he’s an asshole. You didn’t deserve this.” Eddie told him again, waiting for him to repeat it.

“I didn’t deserve this.” He mumbled, like it could be true if he just said it.

“Neosporin might be expired but it’s better than nothing.” Wayne called, walking back into the room with an open fist aid kit in his hands as he rifled through it.

Steve was about to reach for the kit, already used to patching himself up after fights, when Eddie grabbed it before him.

“What are you doing?” His voice was still slightly nasally, a side effect of his clogged nose, so it came out whinier than he intended.

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him, waving the maybe expired neosporin and a q-tip as if that explained it.

“You don’t have to do that. I can do it. I’m all gross.”

“You just never let anyone take care of you, do you?” Eddie was going for a joking tone even though they both knew the truth behind the statement, “I don’t care if you’re gross.”

Up until a year ago nobody had wanted to take care of him. Nobody had offered and he was already enough of a bother, he didn’t want to cross the line. He was supposed to be the one that took care of people, that’s what he did. 

“This might sting.” Eddie told him, bringing the q-tip to his lip where it had split open, “Sorry, sorry!” He winced when Steve sucked in a sharp breath.

When everything was cleaned up he could mostly see out of his right eye, the swelling on his nose had gone down slightly and his lip stopped dripping blood. He was exhausted, he realized then after the adrenaline wore off. Sleepless nights and constant anxiety around his parents left him struggling to hold his head up. So he didn’t, he let his shoulders drop and his head fall on Eddie’s shoulder. It was a little uncomfortable, leaning his neck down to reach from where he sat on the bar stool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“How did this happen, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, hesitant.

“I don’t…I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” The words came out muffled, his face buried in the soft fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt.

 Arms circled around his shoulders and a hand slid through his hair. His own arms wound around Eddie’s middle, rising slightly when Eddie sighed.

“I won't push but you should talk to someone. It’s not a good idea to just bottle this kind of thing up.”

“I know. I don’t want to think about it, not deal with it for a while. I’m just really tired.”

“Do you want to lay down?” Eddie asked stepping back to see his face

He just nodded, already sliding off the stool when he caught Eddie’s expression, “What?”

“We may have to reapply the neosporin. It got a little…” He made a smudging gesture against his own face and Steve groaned, already wiping his face with the washcloth.

After fixing his face again he was being guided to the couch, tucked under an arm. Someone threw a blanket across them before settling down on the other side. The tv was playing some rerun of a sitcom Steve thinks Dustin likes. Maybe it was the background noise or the hand running up and down his back comfortingly under his sweatshirt, maybe it was the familiar smell of the trailer—woody, homey—or fact that he was curled up, squished between two people who actually cared about him, but he found himself drifting off. He felt his head drop onto Eddie’s shoulder as the arms around him shifted to hold him closer. 

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I love continuing the age old tradition of naming his dad Richard. Shout out to my Richard’s

Fun fact: I struggled to write this chapter so much, the writers block hit hard man

Tag list of two: @wrenisfangirling @disrespectedgoatman

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

-----

The town is a wreck, but there's still space for them at the hospital.

Nancy recognizes a few of the doctors - ones who know about the Upside Down - and they're all whisked away into two private rooms. One for Eddie, and one for Max.

Steve is stuck with Eddie. He hates thinking of it like that, because he wants to be with Eddie, but he wants to be with Max, too. He wants to prowl back and forth between them, like his presence will make any difference.

But Eddie's heart is still in his chest, and while the doctor had praised his quick thinking in helping his friend, it's too risky to have Eddie's heart far away from his body while he's healing.

So Steve's in the chair next to his bed, hooked up to the heart monitor and listening to the faint but steady sound of Eddie's heart as he feels it beat in his own chest.

Dustin and Robin go back and forth, one of them always with him and the other giving updates when they come to switch out.

It's Dustin in the chair next to his now, and he feels the echo of his own heart next to Dustin's, knows the kid must be feeling what he is - and probably a little bit of Eddie's, too.

Three hearts, all entwined. Robin could make something poetic from that, he thinks.

All he can do is let Dustin pillow his head on his shoulder, press his hand to his own chest and think come back to us.

Eddie's hand twitches.

Steve jolts up, reaching for it automatically.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, even though his eyes are closed and his expression hasn't changed. “Dustin?”

Dustin makes some kind of strangled noise, fumbling for Eddie's other hand. “Can he feel us?”

“I've got his heart, and you've got mine, so yeah, he has to, right?” Steve asks, aware he sounds a little desperate and not really caring.

“Come on, Eddie,” Dustin pleads. “You have to wake up, okay?”

Eddie wakes up.

—

“I should have died in there.”

Steve feels his jaw tense. “No, you shouldn't have.”

“No, I meant - doc says I would have died, if you hadn't taken my heart,” Eddie says.

Oh.

“I know,” Steve admits. “That's why I asked for it.”

Eddie exhales, long and slow. “Where'd you learn that?”

“Eighth grade science,” Steve replies, shooting a little grin at him.

Eddie gives a surprised little laugh. “Seriously?”

“Eh, kind of.” Steve considers for a moment. He's never talked about this with anyone, but - “My parents used to lock their hearts in a safe in my dad's study at night. When I was little, and I got upset at them leaving, they told me they put their hearts in there when they went on trips, too, and I had to stay behind to watch over them.”

Eddie looks at him, soft and tender. Steve'd think it was pity, if it wasn't for Eddie's heart in his chest. It's just sad, and a little angry.

“I told Mr. Clarke about that, and he said it was hogshit.”

Eddie snorts. “Mr. Clarke said hogshit?”

“Who's telling this story?” Steve retorts, then laughs when Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key.

“It was hogshit,” Steve continues. “But then he told us that people could survive potentially fatal injuries with heart exchanges. Then, after Starcourt…”

He trails off, not sure how to say it.

“Robin told me a little,” Eddie admits. “That it was the Russians and the Upside Down, and you let yourself get caught to cover for Dustin and Erica. That you tried to draw attention away from her.”

Oh.

That makes him sound more heroic than the moment felt, but at least it also makes this easier.

“The Russian spies, they had this thing that could open your chest. They didn't believe I was telling the truth, so they took my heart out.”

Eddie reaches out to take his hand, squeezing it tight. There's a faint trickle of horror and guilt and affection, and he knows that Eddie's put it together with the changes in his heart.

“I healed a lot faster because we were doing heart exchanges,” he finishes. “So I figured it'd keep you safe.”

Eddie's grip on his hand tightens. “I really am sorry,” he mutters. “About last summer. After - after that, you needed a friend, and I just left.”

Steve licks his lips, considering his response for a moment, before he goes with honesty. “I had friends. I had Robin and the kids, and they were enough. I didn't really need anything else. But - I wanted you.”

Eddie looks at him, and Steve can feel - hesitation, uncertainty, does he really want me?

“Eddie,” Steve says, slow and thoughtful. “I don't want you because I'm lonely, or I have no one else. Maybe there was a part of that when it first started, but - I'm okay, I'm happy. I want you because of you, not just because I want anyone.”

Shock filters through Eddie so hard that Steve feels it like an almost physical blow.

His heart aches.

He doesn't have to ask if that's something that Eddie hasn't been told before - he knows it already.

“I'm not letting you go,” Steve tells him, only because Eddie's heart is still beating in his chest and he's confident it will be well received. “Not this time.”

“I can live with that,” Eddie says, only a little shaky.

—

Dustin takes a turn swapping hearts with Eddie, and Steve heads immediately for Max's room.

Lucas is there, sitting by her bed and holding her hand.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. “How's she doing?”

“Same,” Lucas says flatly. “But she's in there, I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks.

“We swapped before - before. Just in case. To give her another tether to the real world.”

Shit, that was a great idea. It gives him more hope, and he sags a little in his chair.

“Jesus, you kids are smart,” Steve says, impressed.

Lucas looks at him funny. “We learned that from you, Steve.”

He doesn't really think that's true, considering he learned it from them just as much, but he lets it be, just gripping the back of Lucas's neck and giving him a little squeeze.

Lucas unwinds, just a little bit, and Steve gets a better look at him - notices his swollen eye, his puffy jaw, and feels a cold surge of rage.

He waits for a moment to let the worst of it pass, then asks, “Swap?”

Lucas looks over at him, clearly hesitant.

“The three of us are kind of banged up,” Steve says. “Figure it can't hurt to have more heart power at work here.”

Lucas snorts. “Heart power?”

“Heart power,” Steve confirms, radiating as much confidence as possible.

He's not sure if it works, but Lucas does open his chest up and carefully pull out Max's heart. Steve's extra gentle as he swaps them, tucking her heart into his chest.

It's immediate, what Lucas was talking about. There's only the faintest sense of Max, and an equally faint sense of a fear and guilt and love that he recognizes as Lucas - the residual of what Max is feeling from him, he guesses. Even stranger is an echo he can feel of his own emotions - from him to Lucas to Max and back to him again, apparently.

“Huh,” he says, at the same time Lucas goes, “Woah.”

They sit there, together, and Steve must fall asleep at some point because the next thing he knows, there's the shifting of a chair as Lucas jumps up. Steve startles, only to see El and Will and Mike come flooding in. They sweep Lucas into a hug, and Steve watches them hold on, clinging and desperate.

Eventually, they peel apart, and El goes to Max's side, taking her hand. Her eyes close for a long while, then open again, looking sad.

“I can't reach her,” she whispers. “Not even with my powers back.”

“She's there, though, right? I can still feel her,” Lucas says.

El's brow furrows.

“Max and Lucas swapped before this happened,” Steve explains. “To keep her tethered here, so Vecna couldn't take her.”

Mike frowns. “Vecna?”

“One,” El says, which - okay, yeah, clearly there's a story there, but not the time. She holds her hands out to Lucas. “May I swap?”

Lucas looks over at Steve, and he takes Max's heart out and offers it to her.

“We figured the more helping, the better,” Lucas says.

El exchanges her heart for Max's, looking thoughtful. It's an even bigger rush, with El in the mix, and - even though Max's heart isn't in his chest anymore, he can feel the echo of her even more clearly.

Lucas sucks in a breath. “It's working,” he says. “She's stronger.”

“The more, the better,” El says thoughtfully.

“Eddie woke up from me and him and Dustin sharing,” Steve says, the realization coming over him. “I mean, it wasn't a real circle, but he was just regularly unconscious, not creepy wizard unconscious.”

El looks at Mike, who immediately turns on his heel and leaves. He comes back a few minutes later, with Dustin and Robin and Erica.

“We made Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle stay with Eddie,” Mike announces.

“Uh, yeah, do you want to tell us why?” Dustin asks.

El's eyes flash. “We're going to get Max back.”

Hearts change hands quicker than Steve can keep track of, but in the end, no one has their own heart in their chest. It's an avalanche of emotion that Steve can't make out - so much it’s almost overwhelming - until he feels something like a guiding hand, firm and insistent.

“Max,” El whispers.

Steve turns his thoughts completely on Max, focusing on her - on taking her to the arcade, on the skate park, on her hanging out in his kitchen as they cook dinner. One by one, everyone's emotions start to take focus - on how Max makes them feel, how much they care, how they need her here.

Max's eyes open.

—

They set up another rotation schedule, this time for Max, who looks a little shell shocked and overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Did you think we wouldn't do this for you?” Steve asks quietly when it's his turn, when Lucas and El are sleeping and it's just him and Max awake in her room.

She doesn't answer for a while, but he can feel her conflicted confusion and then unsteady acceptance.

“No,” she says after a while. “I knew you guys would.”

He breathes out, and they sit in silence for a bit.

“Did you read my letter?” she asks, purposefully not looking at him.

“Nah. You said it was just in case, and there wasn't going to be an in case. We weren't going to let Vecna have you.” He manages to keep his voice steady, though he knows she can feel the edge of the fear he'd had for her. “I wanted to hear what was in it from you.”

She makes a face, and he thinks she isn't going to tell him, but then she blurts out, “I said I wished you were my brother, not Billy.”

Oh.

His stomach drops out, and there's a rush of vertigo that leaves him breathless for a moment, but - not in a bad way.

He doesn't know how to respond to that, other than, “I am your brother.”

She scoffs. “It doesn't work like that.”

“Sure it does,” he counters, growing confident. “Billy was your brother just because of a piece of paper your parents signed, right?”

She frowns, finally looking at him again. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what's stopping us?” He taps his chest, over where her heart beats. “We have each other's hearts. We'll always be family.”

Max looks away again, then, very quietly, says, “Okay.”

—

“Heard you call Max your sister when you were talking to the doctor earlier,” Eddie says.

Steve feels a little smile tug at his lips as he takes Eddie's hand. It grows when Eddie laces their fingers together.

“You know Dustin's going to throw a fit when he hears it, and insist that you were his brother first, right?” Eddie teases.

“Of course he is.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Welcome to my family. You sure you still want to stick around?”

He's joking, but Eddie's expression goes soft and contemplative.

“Welcome to your family, huh? You planning a proposal soon, big boy?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve's mouth goes dry. He thinks he should say something - anything - but nothing comes out.

“Swap?” Eddie asks, after a few minutes.

Steve's not sure if someone told him or if he figured it out himself, and part of him wants to ask Eddie if he's sure, but he decides to take Eddie at his word. He opens his chest up, holding out his heart.

Eddie copies him, and - it's his first real look at Eddie's heart. There's silver lines all over it, delicate scars mottling its surface, but it's almost as deep red as Steve's still is.

“Oh,” Steve breathes once Eddie's heart is safely tucked inside his chest again.

There's a love there so strong he almost doesn't know what to do with it - isn't sure if it's Eddie's or his for a moment before he realizes it's both of them feeding off each other.

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

Steve lifts Eddie's hand up, presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I know what I want my future to look like,” Steve admits. “And I want you in it.”

Eddie swallows, and Steve can feel an edge of trepidation before it solidifies into something sharp and determined. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Steve asks.

“I'm sticking around, this time,” Eddie confirms. “For good.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

He knows it's a risk, but - right now, they're alone, and so he leans in to seal the promise their hearts are making with a kiss.

-----

And that's the final part for now! I do have a sequel planned down the road for what happens after they get out of the hospital, folding Eddie into the heart sharing and settling Eddie and Steve and Robin into a trio - I plan on using the tag "hearts out steddie" if anyone would like to follow it for when it comes out!

Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged, liked, or otherwise interacted with this! Everyone's reactions were so amazing, and I really love reading your thoughts!!

Final taglist: @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens @rebellatlas @blackpanzy

Little thing I wrote while procrastinating writing part 5 of Hide Your Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve Harrington who knows his kid brother is obsessed with some niche, up and coming metal band. Steve Harrington who groans and grumbles and carries on about having to drive him around to shows and listen to him nerding out but does it anyway. Steve Harrington who doesn’t really pay attention because the lights on the stage are too bright and drown out whoever’s playing. Steve Harrington who is currently wading through a crowd making their way to the door, going against the current and stumbling as he searches for the mop of hair he promised to get home.

“Henderson!” He cups his hands around his mouth, “Where is that kid?” 

He finds himself pushed to the outskirts of the mass of bodies, plastered to a wall but he still pitches forward when a particularly rowdy young woman rams into him. He thinks he’s going to go all the way to the floor when a hand snags his elbow, holding him up. He turns to rush out an apology, a few thanks for the save, but stops before he can get the words out because holy shit the guy is gorgeous.

And Steve—well Steve has been doing some thinking about himself. About how most guys don’t have to mentally prepare themselves to go into the locker room after pe class. About how most guys don’t let their friends paint their nails pretty colors. Robin told him that there was this thing called being bisexual and he thought some things were clicking into place. So he’s gotten used to going out and noticing more than just girls, it’s not uncommon, but this guy is hot, like really hot. 

He’s dressed in leather pants and a cut off tank top that hangs around his sides. Tattoos, more doodles than actual designs, on full display for the world to see, running up his arms and peeking out from his ribs. His hair is in curly tangles, sweat sticking it to his forehead but he’s grinning. He has a jacket, leather, in his other hand. 

He’s also still holding on to Steve’s arm. Warm rings press into the inside of his elbow as he rights himself.

“First time?” The man asks.

“Y-yeah.” Steve gets out, “I’m supposed to be here with my brother, he’s a huge fan of some band playing here. Molded Coffin or something.”

The guy’s face breaks out into a full on smile, humor sparking in his eyes but Steve doesn’t know if what he said was that funny.

“Yeah? Where’s he at?” The guy still hasn’t let go, leading Steve away from the crowd and further into the room where there were less people.

“I’m actually looking for him now. Left him alone for five minutes to get a drink and he disappears.”

“You need help? These things can get a little crazy.” The man offers.

“You do this a lot?” Steve asks, immediately mentally face palming. He practically asked the guy if he came here often, he was going to think he was flirting. Was he?

The man just smiled, “You could say that. Eddie.” He finally released Steve’s arm in favor of holding out his hand. They shook hands and Steve told the man—Eddie—his name.

They talked for a while, Eddie got them drinks and Steve told himself that Dustin was old enough to behave himself for 15 minutes. Eddie kept an arm around his shoulders the whole time, shielding him from the chaos of the dwindling crowd was his excuse. Steve would have told him he didn’t need an excuse if that didn’t seem too forward.

 Eddie was just asking for his number when someone behind them called, “Ed! Quite flirting and get your ass over here! You’re helping us tear down this time!”

Eddie sighed, “Duty calls.” He scribbled something on to a napkin, patting it against Steve’s chest and backing away, “I’ll be waiting for yours, sweetheart.”

And Steve was either drunk or insane because he actually laughed at that. Laughed again when he looked at the napkin and saw numbers almost unreadable, a winking face below them.

“Steve! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you—What’s that?” Dustin’s tone went from annoyed to prying as soon as he saw the napkin.

“None of your business.” He stuffed the napkin in his pocket, “Are you ready to go or what, kid, I’ve been waiting forever.” He poked Dustin’s shoulder until he got moving and then he poked it again when Dustin scowled at him.

In the car he was once again subjected to Dustin’s after show rant about how cool it was. The guitarist apparently broke two strings and flipped the crowd off with his bloody fingers—which they went wild for, which Dustin screeched along with them for. They played a new song, but it all sounded the same to Steve. That was as much as he heard, though, his mind kept wandering back to the man after the show. To the number in his pocket. He debated putting it to use, was the next day too soon? How long was too long until Eddie forgot about him? A guy like that probably had a mountain of napkins with numbers thrown at him every day. He decided to get over himself and call late the next day. 

“Hi, this is Steve.” He suddenly felt very silly for calling but it was too late now.

“Steve, pretty boy from the show last night Steve?” And just like that he forgot why he hesitated to call.

“That would be me.” He cringed, “No, wait, that sounds so self centered.”

“Not self centered if it’s a compliment.” Eddie argued.

“If you say so.”

They talked, got 10 whole minutes of random conversations Steve never wanted to end before Eddie cursed.

“I’m sorry, I promised my uncle I’d help at the shop.” He muttered, “I’m gonna be late.”

“That’s fine, you should go help him.”

“I’ll call you later?” Eddie asked, and if Steve didn’t know any better he’d say it sounded hopeful.

“I’ll be here later.” He responded. 

They called all the time after that, whenever they were both free. They even met up in person, it was just to the park because Eddie found out Steve had never fed ducks before, but it ended with another day scheduled to spend together and then another and then a month had passed and he could say they were officially dating. It was the best time Steve had had in a long time and he really didn’t want it to end. The realization came to him one night, after another day with Eddie, and it wasn’t as shocking as he thought it would be. It was a Friday night, Eddie was busy most Saturdays—something about going to shows with the guys—so a lot of their slow nights were Fridays. They were watching TV on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, which was quickly becoming Steve’s favorite place, when he found himself watching the way Eddie laughed and even jumped at whatever horror movie was on more than he was watching the movie itself. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

Eddie’s head whipped around, eyes wide, movie forgotten, “I love you too!” And then Steve couldn’t be blamed for not watching the movie anymore when he was practically tackled to the couch, laughing the whole way down.

It was a month after that night that he was steeling himself outside of his front door.

“It’ll be fine.” He said to himself, “They’re going to love you.” He said to Eddie who was gripping his hand.

“It’ll be fine.” Eddie agreed and he almost sounded convinced.

Today was the one day that everyone could gather at Steve’s. The whole party had shown up, everyone he had folded into his makeshift family was in his living room waiting for him to get back with the new partner he told them he was introducing. Today was the day they decided to tell people about them.

Steve pushed the door open, taking a deep breath before leading Eddie to the living room. All of his friends sat scattered around the room. On the couch and floor and coffee table. He could do this.

“Uh. Hey.” He cleared his throat, “I’m back.” All eyes snapped to him, eager to know who this mystery person was.

Eddie tried for an awkward wave but their hands were still connected so they just shook between them.

The silence was getting unbearable until finally Robin shot up from the floor and tackled him in a hug, subsequently dragging Eddie along into it.

“I’m so happy for you, dingus.” She laughed as she pulled away, “Robin.” She stuck her hand out to Eddie who visibly relaxed, “Best friend, platonic soulmate, hurt him and I swear to god you’ll wake up with no kneecaps.”

“Eddie.” Eddie squeaked, shaking her hand hastily.

“Bobbin.” Steve only called her that when she was being particularly over the top because it annoyed her to no end and she knew this, “Tone it down, would you?”

The rest of the group chorused their hellos and introductions and a weight lifted off of Steve’s shoulders at the sight of all of his friends accepting the news without comment. Until he realized there was only one person who hadn’t spoken a word, standing in the middle of the room with a strange look on his face.

“Dustin?” Steve prompted, voice strained.

“Oh my God.” Dustin mumbles in disbelief.

“Dustin…” Steve shot him a warning glance, “If you’ve got a problem with it—”

But Dustin ignores him, he’s staring at Eddie in shock, “Oh my God!” He practically shouts, coming to life to jump and screech, “That’s—! You’re—! You’re Eddie Munson!” 

Eddie grins, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre reaction to meeting your brother’s boyfriend, “I take it you’re a fan?”

“A fan of what?” Steve asks, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s to turn to him face to face.

At the same time, Dustin starts babbling hysterically, “A fan? Only the biggest CC fan in all of Hawkins! I have every song on vinyl, like three posters and—oh my god this is so embarrassing. Eddie Munson is in my house and I’m telling him I have his face on my wall.” 

He keeps talking but it’s more to himself than anyone else in the room so Steve raises an eyebrow at Eddie, “What’s he talking about? Why are you on posters and why does he have them?”

Eddie, for the first time since Steve has known him, looks almost sheepish, “Oh…I guess I’m kind of, maybe the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” He might be blushing.

“You’re that nerd Dustin’s always going on about?!” Steve exclaims.

‘Wrapped’ Around My Finger

“Good evening everyone! I’m your host Ann Romano joined tonight by two of the biggest names in music….please give it up for Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson and Grammy winner Steve Harrington!”

The crowd goes wild.

This is a big deal, two of the biggest names in history with a giant rivalry.

Everyone knew the story. They grew up in a small town together and were on different levels of popularity ultimately ruining what could’ve been a fantastic friendship. Even now ten years since high school they can’t get over it. They hate each other always trying to one up each other.

Eddie trying to make a point that even the freaks can become famous. Stating, “I didn’t need money like Steve Harrington to win a Grammy I have my talent to thank for that.”

The two walk out onto the stage and sit on the couch making sure to leave some distance between them.

“Thank you both for coming out tonight! I know it’s a big trip from LA to New York. It probably helps that you live here huh Steve?”

“Actually I moved to LA.”

Eddie turns to look at him shocked.

“You moved? When did you move? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have mattered? It’s not like we see each other anyway. You can barely look at me and you’re sitting two inches from me.”

Eddie huffs in his seat and turns towards Ann, trying to remember what little of his media training he had.

“I only care because I’m a good neighborly fellow of course.”

Ann laughs flicks her hand at him.

“Oh you guys are just too funny. I knew you secretly cared for each other which brings me to my next segment, a game I like to call, “Wrapped Up!” You see gentleman, both of your agents gave me access to your Spotify wrapped and now we’re gonna let the audience in as well!”

The two turn white.

“Is that necessary?” Eddie asks through gritted teeth.

“Why not?” Steve adds in. “I have nothing to hide.” He narrows his eyes at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

Ann laughs nervously. “Fantastic! Let’s jump to it!”

She gestures behind her where a giant screen shows Steve’s wrapped.

“Alight fellas, Eddie gets three points for every artist he guesses on the first try. He gets three tries, one point if he gets the artist by the third try.”

“Easy.” Eddie smirks.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You always were easy.”

“Alright guys let’s focus on the game here!” Ann jumps in.

“Alright number 5….Wham.”

*a bell rings*

“Fantastic start Eddie!”

“What’d I say, easy,” he smirks.

“4. Tears for Fears.”

“3. ABBA.”

“2. Queen.”

“1. Toto.”

*incorrect buzzer sound*

“Ok…Madonna.”

*incorrect*

“Alright Eddie this is your last chance. You’ve done fantastic so far so I think you’re going to win no matter what. Sorry Steve.” Ann says.

“Hey none taken. I definitely didn’t even think he’d do this well.” Steve smirks at him.

“Alright big boy hold onto your pants. I got this.”

Eddie takes a deep inhale.

“Brittney Spears!”

*louder more incorrect buzzer*

“Ugh!”

“Sorry Eddie! But I don’t think even you could’ve guessed this one. Are you ready folks let’s see what it is-”

The crowd goes wild.

Steve’s smirks goes crazy.

Eddie is pale.

Up on the screen in big obnoxious letters is “CORRODED COFFIN”

“That’s right folks! Since Eddie did so well let’s let him play a similar game for Steve’s top songs. Are you ready Eddie!”

Eddie is not breathing.

“Um-”

“Great let’s start!”

“5….Girls just wanna have fun?”

*DING*

“4.Dancing Queen”

*incorrect buzzer*

“Material Girl”

*incorrect buzzer*

Eddie sighs.

“Crown of Thorns.”

*DING*

“That’s right Eddie! Your very own song Crown of Thorns was his number 4? Wanna take a guess at the rest?”

Eddie grits his teeth. “I’m not sure I have a choice.”

“Haha of course you don’t! Now! Number three!”

“3. Heavy is the Head.”

“2. Reign.”

“1….”

He looks nervous.

“Kneel Before the King.”

*DING*

“You got them! Fantastic work Eddie! Were you surprised that four of his five were songs written by you? How could you possibly guess them?”

“At first I was surprised…you know we have this rivalry thing going on but…I’ve been watching Steve since I was fourteen. I know him well. As soon as I saw his top artist I knew his top songs would be the ones I wrote about him.”

The crowd gasps.

“Don’t get me wrong I wrote a lot more about him but these in particular…”

“They’re about forbidden love.” Steve chimes in. His eyes are watering.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why they were my favorite.”

Eddie gives him a sad smile.

“You wrote them about me?”

Eddies smile turns into a frown. “About you, for you, it was always for you, all of them.”

“All of them?”

“Everything. My entire discography. Every performance. Every press tour. Every photo shoot. You just had to worm your way into my life Harrington…my heart.” He whispers that last part but they’re so close together Steve can hear it.

Well barely hear it…his heartbeat is so loud in his ears.

“Anyways Ann what’s next.”

Ann is staring at him in open mouthed shock.

“Wow. This so perfect.” She turns to Steve. “Ready for your turn?”

“Nah.” Eddie says. “Skip to my number one artist.”

Behind them a video starts playing on the screen.

“Hey it’s Steve! Thanks so much for being my number one fan! I mean top .01 percent is a tough spot to get! It means so much to me that I’m your number one artist-”

Steve can’t take his eyes off of Eddie, when could he ever?

“I’m your number one artist?” he asks so softly Eddie can barely hear it.

“Of course…I like the sound of your voice.” He shrugs his shoulder like it’s no big deal.

“Can we talk? I mean after the show?”

Eddie smiles at him.

“Of course Stevie, I’d like that.”

“I would also like to know!” Ann cuts in.

They forgot this was being streamed to millions of people and filmed in front of a live studio audience.

—————

Later Backstage:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE MY NEW NEIGHBOR HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS!!!????”

“Honestly Eddie I don’t know. For someone who claims to be obsessed with me-”

“I didn’t-“”

“Obsessed.” Steve puts a finger to Eddie’s lips to shut him up. “You didn’t notice I’d moved in next door.”

“Hell just move in with me.”

“…alright.”

Saw THIS post and I just thought, what about the other way around?

Steve having those stickers for The Party as a joke and like a reflex he does the same with Eddie, putting one of them in his forehead with a 'good boy' comment.

Eddie is completely flabbergasted and dumbfounded, left gaping like a fish and blushing because that was cute as hell, he got called a good boy and also, who doesn't like stickers?

Eddie trying to reign in the horniness when he and Steve start dating, because he knows that Steve is a bit sensitive to it after so many people only hooked up with him for meaningless sex and ran off when feelings started getting involved. Eddie doesn’t want Steve to get that impression from their relationship, not even vaguely, so he wants to take his time, really romance the socks off Harrington, before stirring anything in that direction, except it’s so hard because Steve is so unwittingly endearing at all times.

It all comes to a head when they’re laid out on the grass stargazing and Eddie says, off-handed that that night they could see Saturn with the naked eye, and Steve scrunches up his nose in that adorable way of his.

“Naked eye. It’s such a weird thing to say. Do our eyes ever really wear clothes?“

And Eddie is on him in two seconds flat with a groan.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” he admits, trailing hot kisses up and down Steve’s neck and delighting in the way the other boy shivers under him. He latches his mouth onto his favourite cluster of moles under Steve’s jaw. “You’re so adorable, I could eat you up. Fucking love the way your brain works and the things you say. Want to eat all of it, too.”

They go home that day, feeling distinctly more uncomfortable and sticky in their jeans than when they arrived and with purpling love bites decorating their skin.

Eddie no longer worries about rushing after that night.

Eddie: yeah you're a whore but you could be bad at sex

Steve: *bewildered* what

Eddie: I'm just saying, you can have a lot of sex, how do we know you're good at it? We don't have first hand experience, you could be lying to us-

Steve: *smirking*

----

3 hours later

Eddie, tangled in sheets, breathless, red, panting: OK. Ok. You proved your point

Steve passing Eddie a cigarette: Mhm~

steve's been knocking on doors trying to find eddie. he would be annoyed that all he's found are couples and groups in states of undress but this is some random house party, so it's what steve expects.

plus he's too relieved that he hasn't walked in on eddie being a part of any of it.

steve knows it's gross to feel this way. he trusts eddie 100%. it's not right to let past relationship problems cloud his judgement when it comes to what he has with eddie - who hasn't given him any reason to doubt.

but eddie is so new. been together for only 2 months now new.

and tommy was so old. childhood friend/fucked up situationship for 10 long years old. just ended for good a year and a half ago old.

so even though he knows, hopes, prays, that it's ridiculous to compare the two together, steve still checks the bathroom and makes sure the man on his knees in front of some blonde cheerleader isn't his boyfriend.

and then promptly ducks down to avoid a brush the blonde cheerleader throws at him.

'sorry!' steve apologizes. he hurries to slam the door closed and makes his way to the very last room at the end of the hallway.

maybe he left? eddie didn't want to serve here anyway, rich druggie clientele be damned. so even though they came together, maybe eddie had an emergency and-

steve cuts that thought off because well. he found eddie.

'baby!!' his boyfriend exclaims, alone, sitting on the floor in the middle of some random strangers room with a jar of peanut butter. he's got a spoon full of it half way up to his mouth and his eyes are red.

at least 4 brownies deep red.

the wave of relief he feels is actually pretty concerning, but steve will think about that some other time since he's too busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the long haird idiot looks.

'eddie, what are you doing?'

eddie looks guilty and for a split second steve thinks maybe he did walk in on eddie with someone else. (maybe he's waiting on them? maybe they already left?)

then eddie holds up the jar of peanut butter and says in the saddest voice, 'i needed it stevie, i don't remember how long it's been since i've had peanut butter. but i didn't think you'd find me! stay back! don't you come any closer!'

so this whole time while steve's been worried that eddie was off doing what tommy used to do to make him jealous, eddie just snuck off and hid away to eat peanut butter because steves' allergic.

starting to snicker, steve goes to sit across from him. 'i can be around it babe, im not gonna die.'

eddie rushes to close the jar, spoon shoved inside and all. he gives steve the stink eye. 'i know what peanut allergies can do to some people. i refuse to watch you blow up like a tomato.'

steve rolls his eyes and reaches out, acting like he's gonna touch the jar.

eddie yells. jumping to his feet, he scurries out of the closet like an over grown rat, 'steve harrington this is exactly why I was trying to eat this away from you!'

steves laughing now, giggling like a hyena. he can't believe he ever doubted this man.

later that night - after eddie has showered and brushed his teeth at least three times - when they're tucked away in eddies room under the covers, steve talks to him about his freak out. eddie apologizes for leaving him alone at a strangers party like that. he holds him close, gives steve a ton of kisses and promises to create a DND character that represents tommy.

'i'll turn him into a toad and kill him off in the most gruesome way imaginable. he'll be murdered to death, the kids will be traumatized. it'll be great. just you wait and see, my love.'

Steve Harrington who has been trying for weeks (maybe even months) to woo Eddie and keeps failing UNTIL he makes an offhand comment correctly referencing one of the groups nerd books. Weeks and weeks of using smooth lines that have never failed him until Eddie, and this is what gets him the guy? Nerd lingo he’s learned purely through osmosis.

Steve who is just standing there like “really? That’s what did it for you? Jesus Christ I can’t believe I’m going to kiss you.”

Eddie, completely shocked by this turn of events: “you want to kiss me?????”

And the whole party is in the background like: “he has for a while thank you for finally catching up before we took drastic measures”

The Gift that Keeps on Giving - Part 2

Part 1

minor TW: Cheating (you'll see)

Working out how to tell Eddie they can’t keep this up is harder than it seems. How does he say that he’s too close to falling for him and they should just go back to the beginning and make this a business transaction, or forget Steve even asked? Backing himself out of this corner isn’t easy. He types out so many messages and deletes them, his thumbs hurt. He finally sends something short and to the point. A quick ‘I can’t do this anymore, but thank you for everything.’ 

That’s met with radio silence. He checks the chat later to see that it’s been read, but there’s no response. No little ellipses bubble telling him a reply is forthcoming. No thumbs up or impersonal got it. Just nothing. He goes to their account and sees it’s still actively posting about the tour, so Eddie’s been on and had a chance to reply, but he hasn’t. Before Steve can let that sink in and ruin his day, there’s a knock on his door. 

There’s a courier there, an inconspicuous man that Steve frowns at. He isn’t expecting anything from his father, but he takes the envelope and signs for it. The contents surprise him. The small Stevie written at the top that he runs his fingers over in disbelief. He doesn’t remember telling Eddie his address. Maybe there are perks to having a legal team and record label behind you. It doesn’t really matter how he figured it out. Because out falls two tickets to the Corroded Coffin show in Indy. The show that’s just two days away. 

Eddie followed through on his promise. Steve thought he’d forgotten all about the reason they started talking. He certainly was flirting enough to make Steve forget. There’s the possibility that Steve was reading too much into it. Tone is hard to gauge over text. Eddie’s probably like this with everyone. Playing it up to maintain that rockstar image. It probably didn’t mean anything to him, while Steve’s insides were molten lava every time his phone pinged with a reply from Eddie.

It’s bittersweet to be holding these in his hands after everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. He got what he wanted, but at what cost? The realization that he doesn’t want his boyfriend. He wants Eddie Munson. Who he has no chance in hell with. Does he even deserve to take his boyfriend to this show? Eddie never should’ve sent the tickets after Steve lured him in and ghosted him with a quick message and no further explanation. He should probably tell his boyfriend the truth, hand over the tickets and admit what a failure this relationship has become because of him. All it took was a rockstar paying attention to him to make him stray, so how good of a boyfriend can he be, tickets or no tickets.

Turns out the distance between him and his boyfriend wasn’t one sided. When Steve walks in on him with another man that night, ready to confess and hand over the tickets, it should be more shocking, or at least more devastating. He’s all too aware that the anger he should feel is nonexistent. Steve’s been cheated on before and it’s never a pleasant feeling, but it feels hypocritical to get mad at him, given where Steve’s thoughts and feelings have been over the past few weeks.

Steve heads home with a weight off his chest. Lightest he’s felt since Robin pointed out his honeymoon eyes over Eddie’s messages. There’s not much love lost on this relationship, but he doesn’t know what to do with the tickets now that his boyfriend’s out of the picture. He doesn’t try reaching out to Eddie again, unsure how anything he’ll send would even be received. But he doesn’t want to just let them go to waste, not after everything. 

He winds up dragging Robin to the show. She’s not into this kind of music, and Steve wasn’t either, at first, but Eddie is electrifying when he performs and Steve was drawn in from that first music video and hasn’t stopped listening since. And Robin loves Steve. She’d do anything for him, and he’s never more thankful to have her at his side when he hands over the tickets and they’re ushered backstage. 

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary on the tickets as far as Steve saw, but something must have tipped the system off that they weren’t run-of-the-mill tickets. Security guards escort them into a tunnel, where they get on a golf cart and get whisked away to an unknown destination. Robin’s whining under her breath that they shouldn’t have come and Steve’s having flashbacks to herding children through the back of the mall when he was slinging ice cream and getting bullied by Nancy's younger brother into free movies for him and his friends. 

The destination turns out to be a suite, or a dressing room of some sort. A door labeled Eddie Munson that sticks out amongst the white painted concrete they’re surrounded by. He’s not sure if they’re under the stage or behind it, but there’s a loud humming sound and bass reverberating in the cavernous hallway. He doesn’t get much time to process his surroundings before the security guard is rapping on the door with a curt Mr. Munson and stepping aside. 

When the door flings open, a man with intentionally windswept hair and tight leather pants greets them. By greets, he stares dumbly at them, slack jawed and eyes on Steve, like he can’t believe they’re real. Steve doesn’t know what to say anymore than it seems Eddie does, with his doe eyes and surprised tilt to his head. After a beat of silence that goes on too long, Robin clears her throat. 

“How drunk was I?” Eddie asks, brows furrowing as he takes in Robin. “I could’ve sworn you said boyfriend.” 

“Ex-boyfriend,” Robin chirps, grinning like a maniac. 

“Do you mean, you were a boy and now you’re a girl?” Eddie leans against the doorframe, perplexed, and Steve is distracted by the way his shirt rides up and reveals a sliver of pale skin to tease him. He can see a santa hat sticking out of the back pocket of his pants.

Robin gags at the thought of being Steve’s partner in anything other than crime. She points at herself, “Robin Buckley, always a girl,” then she points at Steve, “always a dingus,” and sticks out a hand for Eddie to shake. “Platonic lesbian best friend, at your service.” 

“Eddie Munson,” he says, shaking her hand but looking over at Steve, a bemused grin dancing on his lips. “What happened?” 

“You did,” Steve says, a little breathless.

TBC

El being wholesome with Steve. El being wholesome with Steve. The weird sibling duo we didn’t know we needed. I need more of it. I might do it….no I’ve done enough of them…

Okay, okay. But just picture this:

The kids trying to embarrass Steve all the time with photos and stories to Eddie, but El ruins it every.single.time. because she is so unbelievably wholesome when it comes to Steve.

Here is everyone pulling out scoops photos (which Eddie actually loves thank you very much) and sharing stories about his failed dates. Dustin tells Eddie specifically about the time he was teaching Lucas basketball and Lucas threw the ball too hard at the backboard and hit Steve in the face.

So they are all poking fun at Steve in his and Robin’s apartment (because in every universe these platonic soulmates live together) and there is just El who randomly chimes in:

“Steve took me to this thing called a ren faire once. It was very fun. We both looked really pretty.”

Eddie absolutely melts at the story and gushes over the photos she has.

And everyone gets quiet every time, because no one wants to criticize El, but one time Max gently goes, “You know that’s like….nice right? We’re making fun of him.”

Everyone one expects her to being embarrassed or confused but instead she simple says.

“I know. I don’t like it. Steve’s nice.”

And she embarrasses everyone, except Robin and Eddie who are the only ones Steve never gets upset with when they make fun of him. They all mumble out apologies, and Steve turns to Dustin and goes:

“This is why she gets a special section in the freezer. All different flavors of eggos.”

El’s eyes get wide. “Even the blueberry ones?”

Steve gives her hair a tousle, “Especially the blueberry ones.”

one thing about steve harrington is that he sucks at doing nothing. like he has to be doing something with himself lest the guy waste away. this has led to him being very good at fucking around with things especially when its something relatively quiet. the loudest steve will let himself keep his hands busy while stuck idle is tossing whatever's in his hand to himself and catching it, which usually bodes well for sports practice after coach learned that just because he was moving didnt mean he wasnt paying attention(usually the opposite).

he learned how to flip a pencil around his thumb in middle school and seeing someone in one of the meetings he sat in on doing it. he'll twirl anything he can around in his hand, especially while he was working in the mall. the scoopers were perfect for it. and any way youve seen a drummer/percussionist fiddle with a drumstick, steve knew he had to replicate it.

but even with all this movement and the fact the guy was barely ever not moving, it seemed like no one noticed it ever. a fact that nearly drove eddie insane when they were in high school together. because he did have the reputation of being restless, and in a constant state of movement. and he probably fucked around with random shit less, so how did steve "the hair" harrington not end up with the same reputation? the answer was just that he was way more quiet("and sneaky" -eddie) about it. and if the teacher hated when their students fiddled and futzed he'd be sure to try and keep the movement below his desk.

but it not that he only has to keep his hands busy. no no no, if bored or stuck waiting, and that won't suffice, steve harrington will pick up anything with words just to read it. anything. outdated newspapers, ingredients lists, magazines of any topic. he just mindlessly grabs for whatever and starts fucking reading. Robin could swear under oath to a court that her best friend has read the back of every vhs in family video. hell, she's seen him reading drugstore novels, like the fucking grandma smut and books with cover art of nicely dressed ladies running from a castle. and its her jock best friend reading it, instead of some repressed suburban woman who hates her husband. yes, this information is the bane of robin buckley's exsistance because its not like anyone would believe her.

idk just give me steve being restless but doing it quietly enough that no one really picks up on it.

bit of steddie ghostface au anyone?

Nancy thought she was holding her trembling back well, but it was hard to have any confidence in the face of those dead, blank, masked eyes. Two pairs of empty holes staring up at her, waiting. She felt more trapped than they were.

Which was certainly not true, as she was stood quite freely next to a news camera supported on Jonathans shoulder, hooked up to the stolen reporter van situated to their left. Meanwhile the masked figures were tied thoroughly to the two metal chairs at both the arms and legs.

But…there was something in the slight tilt of the left persons head, like a confused dog waiting to see what would happen next. It was getting to her. Making something deep and old inside her uncomfortable and restless.

But she couldn’t look away, not now. With one last look towards Jon and a confirmation nod, she approached the figures.

“We are live across Hawkins news stations ,there is no getting out of this. Everyone will know who you are.” If the duo had any thoughts on her comments, they didn’t show it. Masks unmoving. “I need you to look into that camera knowing the families of your victims are watching.”

And that got a reaction, a small jump of the shoulders. A weird motion to place without being able to see a face, but Nancy could tell. It was a little laugh.

Any fear she had was stripped away to red hot anger, she ignored Jonathans call of ‘wait, Nancy-‘ as she reached for the mask, ripping it off with a harsh movement that made the persons head snap back slightly. And then it was done. She was holding it. She would know. They watched as the bent over stranger, who’s face was still obscured by a mess of hair, began to shake.

And the horrible, cold dread of truth seemed to weigh down on Nancy as she realised…she knew that hair. She knew that expressive body language. Knew why she could tell he was laughing, because she had seen it a thousand times. The head lifted to reveal Eddie Munson.

Local freak, dungeon master and…Nancys friend. An older sibling figure. An idol to her brother. He sat, body obscured behind a robe and looking far too pleased with himself. She was going to be sick. The mask dropped from her hand as she took a shaky step back.

“Aw Nance, I told you I had plans tonight didn’t I?” His voice was clear and calm, teasing and playful. Like he was teasing her the same as all those times before. She had to…she had to get out of there. She couldn’t even speak.

She jumped as a hand landed on her shoulder, vision spinning as she turned towards the new danger. But it was just Jonathan. He had small tears in the corner oh his eyes, but his face was twisted in determined anger. The trembling through his body seeming to end just before his arm supporting the camera, keeping it steadily fixed on Eddie who was back to tilting his head at the lens. The hand grounded her, reminded her that this wasn’t about them. That she’d have plenty of time later to scream and cry and ask ‘why?’ to an empty room.

But for now, she had to show Hawkins who they had to blame. She still had to unmask the killers-…Eddie’s accomplice. Before she could though, a movement from the right caught her attention. A full body shake seemed to have overtaken the remaining masked individual.

Eddie turned to look at his apparent partner with a look of…distain? Annoyance? Nancy didn’t know, but it confused her enough to approach the second person. When she did, she noticed the shaking was accompanied by a laboured breathing and was that…sniffling?

What the fuck was going on? The body began to sway aggressively, a panicked movement as if trying to get out of the bonds holding them there. The mask darted from side to side, as if looking around in confusion. The sight was equal parts terrifying and baffling.

Nancy hastily got a grip on the persons head from behind to steady it which earned her a panicked shout, before she grabbed the underside of the mask and pulled. And the feeling of her heart shattering seemed to line up with the echoing sound of the plastic hitting the floor.

It didn’t matter that she was standing behind him. She knew exactly who that was. “J-Jon? Man what is happening here, please you have to help! I dont, I dont know where I am-“ The terrified, shaky voice of her ex boyfriend filled the room.

His pleading fell on deaf ears, as Nancy supposed the ringing in Jonathans head must be as loud as hers. But somehow through the mess of emotions, her brain latched onto the only easy to comprehend information. The only thing she could try and deal with. What was he saying?

He…didn’t know where he was? He wanted help?

Immediately she swung to the front of him, kneeling down in front of the chair and taking his face in her hands. She turned it from side to side, as if looking for a clear answer. “Steve, Steve you need to calm down.”

“I don’t know what’s going on or where I am and I can’t breath Nancy I can’t breathe what’s happening you have to help me I can’t breath oh my God what’s happening I can’t-“ a pained gasp around tears. “I don’t understand I don’t understand I don’t-“

“Steve!” She shakes his head slightly. “Steve, listen to my voice. I’m here, Jon is here. You’re okay. We will figure this out, okay. But first I need you to calm down.” He shakes her head at her but noticeably stops swaying. His breathing evening out slightly as his eyes

Take her in. She sees him purposefully take a few deep breaths before looking up at Jon to confirm he was still there. Still stood above him. That seems to remind him of his situation. “I don’t…” He exhales a pained breath. “I don’t like this. Nancy, why am I tied up?”

“Steve…”

“I…Trust you. But I can’t handle restraints Nancy, you know that from…from last time. I don’t know what’s happening, please…untie them.” She stares up at him for a few seconds, searching his wet eyes as her hands naturally reach to undo the rope around his ankles.

But something stops her. A deep, gutfeeling prevents her from moving any further. Like something in his eyes was telling her…she shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry, not now. We will figure this out, but I cannot do that.” A look of betrayal washes over his sunken face, and she almost regrets her choice. Until she hears a little laugh from beside her. Breathy and mocking.

“Man, that was so pathetic.”

But before she can turn to look, a twitch at Steve’s mouth catches her attention. Like another mask was ripped away from him, his demeanour falls apart.

Like the shaking crying man was never there. In its place was the Steve she knew, in the worst way possible. He looked fine. Just fine. Happy, even. Like he was joking around with the kids. A genuine smile on his face as he looked over to Eddie, not caring for Nancy at his feet.

“Awe come on, I almost had it there.”

“You didn’t have shit sweetheart, your big eyes are too expressive. You’re not supposed to look happy to have apparently been at my mercy for weeks.”

“Well, we both know I’m more than happy for-“

“What the fuck is going on?”

Both of their heads swivel towards her. And she isn’t sure if its the perfect sync or the cold, dead eyes that make her freeze up and wish she hadn’t spoken. She needs to…needs to back up. She can’t be on camera for this anymore.

They both snicker at her clear retreat before looking towards each other as if to, what? Get their stories straight. In any other situation she would scoff. It’s not like they had any way to talk their way out of this one. When Eddies eyes finally return to het his look is positively taunting.

“Is it not obvious, Nancy Drew?” He tacks it on in the same tone he would tease Mike in, it makes her feel sick to her stomach. “I mean, I don’t think there is a more conclusive way to catch two masked killers. You have your big Scooby Doo moment already.”

That gets a laugh out of Steve, a real laugh like a girl twirling her finger around a phone cord while talking to her crush. She isn’t sure why it makes her want to punch him in the face. The anger helps. It lets her pretend. Put on an act for the broadcast.

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what exactly, Nance? Need some specifics here. You know I’m an idiot.” The thing wearing Steves face jeers at her .

“You killed them. You killed Fred, and Patrick. Jason and Andy. You killed…you killed Chrissy.”

Eddie makes a humming noise and opens his hand into a fist where it peeks out from behind the chair.

“Let’s see let’s see. So we have Fred first of course. Easy one really, took you all a while to notice that.”

“Yeah poor kid, you guys were really cruel to him.”

“Right? And Next we have Andy. Steve took that one for the team-“ they both giggled at the pun. “Cause I can’t take on a basketball member.”

“I don’t know, you fared pretty well against Jason.”

“4 years of repressed anger baby, absolute magic.”

“Shame about Chrissy though.”

“Yeah, nice girl. Just bad luck really, the one time she wanted some drugs was when I was halfway through her boyfriends skull…”

“It couldn’t be helped.” Steve gives him a comforting look.

“No, no you’re right. Had to be done.”

Nancy waits for them to continue but they just…don’t. They leave it there.

An eerie silence takes over the room, but the two seem quite content to stare into each other’s soulless eyes.

And it seems to piss Jonathan off just as much as her because he finally speaks up.

“And Patrick?” His voice is scratchy with held back tears and vitriol.

“What about Patrick?” Eddie cocks his head again.

“Which one of you…killed Patrick?”

Both of the men look at each other, then slowly back to Nancy and Jon. Before landing on the camera lens.

“Well, we can’t take credit for everything can we?”

And with that, the lights in the warehouse shut off.

Nancy jumps, trying to hold in the little scream as Jon drops the camera to the floor and yanks her towards him, their heavy breaths the only sound. Waiting.

“Nancy…” Jonathan whispers.

She can’t speak. Can’t open her eyes or her mouth. Can’t keep up, can’t breathe. So she nods against his chest.

“…Robin said she had plans tonight.”

Adding to this post, imagine them being famous in the future.

Eddie becoming a rising star as soon as he gets out of Hawkins, his band corroded coffin entering the music scene and having massively popular songs. People are getting more intrigue for his past murder charges, but he gets easily defended once he gets a solid fan base (and the fact that he was absolved of those charges).

And Steve entering the acting scene at the same time, him and Robin being just some extras in a movie for the extra cash, but the director falls in love with the sibling-like duo, making them a cameo where Steve acts like a buffer, making the male character jealous so he can make a move.

It was a simple role, just a few minutes of screen with one-liners of dialogue, but to the surprise of everybody—except for Robin—Steve killed the role. Maybe it was his eyes that enamored everyone, his kicked puppy look or his smile, but he became the nation's sweetheart. 

After that, he got cast for more minor roles, and little by little established himself as an actor, to the point of being the lead more frequently. 

With that, the two of them are well established in their own fields, working hard and being well-known. So it's not rare that at some point they end up in the same event.

It could be anything, a festival, some awards, just a party of famous people—the point is, they are in a public space, surrounded by people that have no idea they know each other, and like an instinct, they act like swore enemies.

Their minds are so used to associate:

"being in public" + "hide true relationship and have fun" = "fake hate each other"

Becuase years of pulling that stunt in their teenagehood that like reflex they spit second-hand insults. 

Like– they lock eyes on each other and instantly looked up and down in the bitchiest way possible. Honestly, at this point it has become their own weird way of flirting, the more vicious the comment the more they will drive the other crazy.

Of course, neither of them realize what they were doing until they both were making out in the bathroom, squirreling away from the vent, going to the closest hotel and waking up the next day with friends/acquaintances from their own jobs field asking for the latest gossip of the industry.

The way Robin would laugh her ass off, only to act like a toddler, pointing fingers and giggling at the two dinguses when they realize what they have done.

It was not intentional, and now everyone who was in the event thinks they hate each other's guts like old times.

The public doesn’t know yet, the reporters still not hearing about this until well-respected journalist, Nancy Wheeler (who has already written about each of them, one for Eddie and one for Steve), makes an article about their long complicated story.

(No, she isn't being petty, Mike, she just thinks it’s funny, and it’s not like she is lying, they do have a long and complicated story, it’s just a little to the left, she just isn't saying some things)

The next time someone interviews one of them, they are asking about the other, why they hate each other, if there’s some drama, why they didn't know they knew the other, etc.

Long story short, they pulled the same bit they did in school, but now by accident and to the whole country (and the world when they start getting more international).

They tried to clarify but fell on deaf ears, people thinking is just to safe face or keep appearances, after all the habit doesn’t quite go and they always ended up flirting with insults in every event they are together.

They definitely start to enjoying it and play along after a while.

Not only that, but they enjoyed it even more when years later, in a random day, they posted their X years wedding anniversary photos with their family.

Everyone lost their shit after that.

Your telling that when they added Eddie into the party we weren't supposed to ship him with Steve??? Eddie looks like Nancy, talks like Robin, shares Dustin's hobbies, and cares about these people as much as Steve does and they aren't in love??? Like we're supposed to believe that Steve wouldn't love that???

The truth is that Steve has a lot of fun at the concerts he attends with Eddie even though most of the time he didn't understand anything of what some of the metal singers were singing. But it was fun, he wasn't a metal fan but going to concerts with Eddie were those times when they could go outside as a couple and date without people noticing.

Tonight Metallica was playing, it was the first time they would see them now that they moved to Chicago and well Eddie is pretty excited and Steve does his best to keep up with him, he even recognizes some songs.

When they play Master of Puppets a shiver runs down his spine, and even though he can't touch Eddie like he would like to because they are in public, just looking at him is enough to make him feel better, because his Eddie is alive and he is right where he belongs.

As the concert is about to end, the band starts playing a song that Steve immediately recognizes....

"That's our song!" Steve exclaimed with excitement.

"What are you talking about?"

The song was soft, different from the ones Metallica usually played, the stadium was less noisy than before because the audience was concentrated on the opening notes. Steve approached Eddie with a bright smile and whispered:

"That was the song we were listening to when you kissed me for the first time."

Eddie looks at him with complete love, desire and affection. They are so close to each other and yet they can't get any closer, it hurts but it comforts him to know that he will go home with that boy.

"I'm going to spend a lifetime kissing you Steve Harrington, until we are allowed to kiss throughout the entire setlist of a concert"

Eddie whispers in his ear and kisses his cheek, his lips barely graze his cheek but with that he seals the promise. Immediately he pulls back and instead wraps his arm around Steve's shoulders, Steve smiles without taking his eyes off the stage and places his hand on Eddie's, as the song plays he discreetly intertwines their fingers.

----

The song is Fade to Black btw. Metallica played in Chicago on November 17, 1988, that is the concert attended by these two lovebirds. ✨️

Steve glances up to ask Eddie where he wants the box in his arms when his eye catches on something, frankly absurd, and he stops in his tracks.

Eddie has taken off his jacket, which was stupid to have on to begin with, and underneath is wearing a sleeveless tank top, the bottom of which is about three inches shorter than anything Steve has seen him in.

"What the fuck?"

Eddie glances up to see him staring. "What?"

Instead of answering, Steve sets the box down and marches over to him. He grabs the bottom of Eddie's shirt and lifts it up to his armpits.

"What is happening?" Eddie asks while trying to squirm out of Steve's reach.

"Are you hot? When the fuck did this happen? You have abs, Eddie. How long have you been hot under that stupid jacket?"

"What?!" He squirms some more, this time away from Steve's poking fingers.

"You have pecs. What is happening in the universe? You're supposed to be all noodle arms and Doritos gut. This isn't right."

Eddie finally manages to get away, yanking his shirt back down and then pointing a 'stay back' finger in Steve's face. "Hey, man, I'm not a piece of meat!"

"Piece of beefcake, apparently," Steve mutters.

Eddie chokes. "What do you care? You can't be jealous, you're as hot as you've ever been."

Why does Steve care? Thwarted expectations? It can't just be that, he's practically vibrating in place, skin all hyper aware of itself.

"You think I'm hot?" He asks instead of giving Eddie an answer he doesn't have.

He scoffs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve puts both hands on his hips.

"It means I'm not getting reeled in by your fishing. Can we finish moving this shit now?"

Steve stares some more. His arms aren't as big as Steve's, but the way his bicep moves under his skin as he bends to lift the box Steve dropped, it's....uh...

Uh oh.

Eddie is hot, stamps itself into the fabric of Steve's universe.

Steve turns and marches back outside. "Robin!!!!"

steve calls both robin and eddie babe. and those two have a bit of a rivalry going on. eddie thinks since steve is his boyfriend he's the reigning Babe. but steve called robin babe first and she says that makes her more special.

steve continues to call them both babe because he loves the attention and thinks it's hilarious.

steve: babe

robin and eddie at the same time: yeah?

robin and eddie, now glaring at each other: ...

everyone else at the table: ?

steve: can you pass me the salt?

robin and eddie: *hold eye contant for a second before they both scramble for the salt*

robin, all smug after winning: here you go

steve, pleased as punch: thank you

eddie, pouting: :(

everyone else at the table: wtf was that

My brain has created a fun amalgamation of these two posts (link, link)

Steph deciding after Startcourt life is way too short to continue living it for anyone else and immediately starts transitioning, everyone who matters in her life is of course accepting. and the rest of Hawkins is too wrapped up in the drama of the mall to notice that Steph and Steve are the same person, its just assumed Steve got out of dodge after the mall burned down.

the party starts going to hellfire and Stephs babysitter mode activates because these people don't know what monsters and references could set her kids off so she decides to tell Eddie what he is not allowed to use in his campaign or even mention around them. She goes in boymode because no one knows Steph but Steve still has a reputation.

Eddie is very very confused when Steve Harrington approaches him and immediately gets into what he is not under any circumstances to mention in front of the newest members of hellfire and its got to be the weirdest prank or something because the kids have never mentioned knowing Steve at all and all and the only connection Eddie knows about it that Steve is Nancy's ex which would not explain this behavior at all. so of course he has to test it, to disastrous results they do a good job at putting on a brave face but its clear they're terrified and as soon as the session is called they pull out a walkie and start calling for check ins. a voice that must be the mysterious badass and beautiful babysitter Steph that they're constantly going on about tells them to stay put and that she'll come in and get them. they protest that they aren't kids anymore but she isn't hearing it.

Eddies excited to get to see her for himself to see if she really is all they've built her up to be or is this is just a childhood crush clouding their judgment. he decided they haven't been doing her enough justice as she swings the door open and is doing head counts and visual wellness checks backlit from the fluorescents in the hall way like some kind of angel. once shes assured of the partys safety she rounds on him hands on hips looking so bitchy and disappointed "you used something off the list didn't you" it isn't a question. the party catches her attention before he can untie his tongue ruffling hair and giving half hugs, he'll have to thank them latter because the wave goodbye Henderson gives him is definitely conspiratorial like he was taking her attention on purpose.

It takes a day after the weirdness that was the last hellfire meeting for curiosity to get the best of him and he goes to get answers, he has no idea where Steph lives but he's sold at enough Harrington house parties to find his way. Imagine his surprise when its Steph that opens the door and starts talking to him like they've actually conversed before. Like she was the one that gave him the list of things not to mention, while simultaneously dressing him down for not listening.

for at least a brief moment Eddie assumes Steph is dating herself, it would explain how she knows about his conversation with Steve why Steve felt it was his place to tell him about the monsters, maybe she had been busy and he'd offered to go in her stead, and why she was answering his door.

She explains that she can't actually explain all that much about why he cant use demogorgons and mindflayers in his campaigns, because NDAs are a bitch. but does give him what she can leaving him even more curious because what the hell did a bunch of 14 year olds get into in Hawkins that require NDAs

before he leaves though he has to ask how she knows steve because that shouldn't be some huge secret.

Steph looks like a deer in headlights for a moment before doubling over with laughter, snorting hard to breathe crying laughter ( it really shouldn't be as cute as it was) once shes composed herself enough she just states "I am steve"

Part One

Eddie walked through the door of Robin's bedroom cautiously.

"I don't know why I assumed that you'd be taking me to your house when you said that you're taking me home," Eddie said. "Silly me."

"I did tell you that house was my parents' house," Steve said, following him in.

"So, why aren't we there?" He asked.

"Because the bios are in town," Robin said.

"Bios?" Eddie asked.

"My biological parents," Steve replied.

"Yeah, I was wondering about them. I was starting to think they don't exist," Eddie said.

"They basically don't," Robin said and pointed to a pile of pillows by the window. "Especially in Steve's life."

"That sucks," Eddie said as he plopped onto the pillows with Robin and Steve.

"Their loss. Our gain," Robin grinned.

Melissa Buckley popped her head through the door. Eddie had met her at the door. She was very mellow and sweet. She didn't even give him the stink eye when he walked in. Instead, she hugged him and welcomed him right into her home.

"Oh, does anyone need any snacks?" Melissa asked.

"Oh, no, we're good, Mombie, thank you," Robin said.

"Oh, Steve, your room is still all set up, but I'm afraid Snuffles has been occupying it lately," she replied.

"Thanks, Mombie," Steve said.

"Are you alright with us being in here?" Eddie asked.

"Of course, I am," she laughed.

"Oh, she now knows all about me being a lesbian," Robin said.

"You're -"

"I don't know why she was so worried. She knows we're all about the love," Melissa said. "And the fact that in the early days of our marriages, we branched out with other people."

"You never said it was men and women, mother!" Robin exclaimed, rolling her eyes and smiling.

"Oh, your uncle should know, Eddie," Melissa said. "He was one of my lovers."

"What?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Oh, and he was excellent, too," Melisss sighed. "Really good with his hands - "

"Gah!" Eddie yelped and plugged his ears with his fingers. "Lalalalalala! I'm not listening!"

"You're scarring, Eddie, mombie," Robin said.

"Oh, I'll let you three to it, then," Melissa said and closed the door behind her.

"Okay, what the hell?" Eddie asked. "You know, I was okay with assuming that my uncle was basically a monk."

"How prude of you, Eddie," Robin cooed.

"You're a lesbian?" Eddie asked.

"Hm, I thought you knew," Robin said.

"Nope!" Eddie exclaimed.

"So, you don't know about either one of us?" Steve asked.

"You're a lesbian, too?" Eddie grinned.

"No, bisexual," Steve scoffed.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"I like men and women," Steve said, and then he turned to Robin. "I was pretty sure that he knew."

"Maybe the woman at the bar was wrong about flagging," Robin replied.

"I don't know. She seemed to know what she was talking about," Steve replied. "And I thought for sure that Eddie was flirting with me."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked. "By the way, I'm cool with it all. . ."

"There's no way. . .no one calls someone "big boy" like that, and they're not flirting," Robin said.

"Maybe it's one of those situations," Steve whispered. "We should probably stop talking about it."

"Oh, hey, since it's your first time here, you get to pick the music," Robin said, pointing to her cassettes.

"Ooh, don't mind if I do," Eddie said and pulled the box closer to him. "Ooh. You got Bob Dylan. My mom was a fan."

"She had great tastes," Robin said and smiled when Eddie popped it in.

"Okay, what next?" Eddie asked.

Steve grinned and moved to his feet. He slowly began to untie Eddie's shoes before moving just as slowly to take them off. He kept the same pace when he took his socks off, keeping eye contact with Eddie.

"Seriously?" Robin sighed.

"What are you guys going to do to me?" Eddie asked, swallowing.

Robin rolled her eyes and pulled out a box.

"Pick a color, dingus," Robin said.

"Oh! You're painting my toenails," Eddie said.

"Well, you said that you wanted to know what we did when it's just the two of us," Robin said.

"Okay, can I do red and black?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Steve said and began work on Eddie's feet.

"So, you two consider yourself like brother and sister?" Eddie asked as he took a magazine from Robin.

"Oh, no, that would ruin the plan," Robin said.

"We're basically platonic fiancées," Steve said.

"Well, almost fiancées," Robin said. "We're going to slowly manipulate Steve’s dad into giving us money for a wedding. We're going to take the money and give it to a worthy cause. We might just end up getting married for the hell of it, platonically, of course, but it's going to be the cheapest wedding ever. His dad would hate it."

"Mombie was against the plan at first," Steve said.

"And then she met his parents," Robin said. "Both of my parents are on board."

"As well as Claudia and Sue," Steve said.

"They meet up to discuss it, but they mostly just drink sangrias," Robin said. "And talk about. . .well, I don't know what they talk about."

"Jesus, are your parents really that bad?" Eddie asked as he flipped through the magazine.

"Yes," Steve and Robin said.

"Well, if you need any help, I'm your man," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"You know what would make your doe eyes pop?" Robin asked. "Eyeliner."

Eddie looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging.

"Alright."

"Yes!" Robin exclaimed and began to apply it.

"This magazine is really informative. Hey, Steve, do you mind me asking how you knew you were bisexual?" Eddie asked.

Robin had to stop applying the eyeliner because she suddenly started shaking with giggles.

"I don't mind it all - Robin, stop laughing!" Steve yelled and then sighed. "Well, apparently, it's just not very straight to practice kissing and practice having sex with a guy friend."

"Okay, well, I get the sex thing, but practice kissing with friends. . .doesn't everyone do that?" Eddie asked.

"No, and also like it? Also, no," Steve said.

"Oh, well. . ." Eddie said and looked away, thoughtfully, blushing, then he grinned. "Hell, I think I might be like you after all, big boy."

"One of us, one of us, one of us!" Robin and Steve chanted.

"You guys are freaks, I love it," Eddie laughed.

"Oh, Edward, you have no idea," Robin said.

"Should we?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I think we should," Robin said. "Eddie, do you want to be initiated into our coven?"

"Coven?" Eddie asked.

"We're wiccans," Steve grinned.

"Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?" Eddie laughed.

"Ooh! I get to try out my spell!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands. "And your potions and runes, Steven!"

The next thing, Eddie knew he was kneeling in the middle of Robin's room, surrounded by candles and very shirtless. Robin and Steve were both wearing black robes. Steve was kneeling in front of Eddie, painting runes on Eddie's chest and arms.

"We're kind of just making this shit up as we go along," Steve told Eddie.

"Obviously, that's clearly a dick you just painted," Eddie said, and Steve giggled.

The door opened, and Robert Buckley entered the room. Robin, Steve, and Eddie stared at him. He stared back. He set a fire extinguisher on Robin's desk.

"I thought I smelled smoke," Robert said. "Have fun."

"Thanks, Daddy," Robin and Steve said.

Just before he closed the door, Snuffles the orange tabby slipped onto the room.

"What's a Wiccan initiation without a cat?" Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve pulled out his potion. He pulled Eddie's hair back into a bun and started dabbing the potion behind his ears and on his throat. It smelled like heaven. He paused and glanced at Eddie's lips. Steve grinned before putting the potion on his own lips. Eddie stared at him in confusion. Steve cupped his face and kissed him, spreading the potion onto Eddie's lips. It also tasted like heaven. Steve tasted like heaven. Eddie let out a noise of disappointment as Steve pulled back.

"Woah! Head rush. Was that you or the potion?" Eddie asked. "What is that stuff?"

"You have to be a higher level to unlock that information," Steve said.

"Damn."

"That was completely unnecessary," Robin said and then grinned. "I can't wait until we're platonically married so I can call Eddie a whore for sleeping with my husband. It's going to be so dramatic."

Steve stood next to Robin as she opened her notebook, and they took each other's hands. Together, they started chanting in Latin. And when it was done, Steve happily wiped off the runes off Eddie's chest before presenting him with a temporary robe with promises of taking him out to pick out his own. In the meantime, Eddie was wearing Steve’s pink bathrobe. The three of them sat on Robin's window sill, hanging their feet outside. Robin and Steve sat on either side of Eddie.

"Do you think there are a lot more people like us out there in Hawkins?" Eddie asked.

"Definitely," Steve and Robin said, looking at him.

Eddie laid his head on Steve’s shoulder and intertwined their fingers. There came a sudden breeze, whipping through their hair. They smiled. They definitely felt magic in the air.

Rated: T | CW: panic attacks | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, pre-s3 steddie

Prompt: Get behind me

For @machete-inventory-manager 💕 thank you! (And thank you for your patience!)

🕯️🕯️🕯️

Steve is shit at keeping secrets. He should be used to it by now, considering his stack of NDAs is now undoubtedly longer than any book he’s ever read, but usually his lies fall on the ears of his oblivious parents, on the unknowing school nurse for why he’s back for the third day in a row for a migraine, on his teachers who berate him for falling asleep in class. It’s not—Steve is bad at keeping secrets from those he cares about, and Eddie Munson is very high on that list of people.

Steve still can’t believe it’s real, most of the time: that who he was his first years in this school hadn’t scared Eddie away completely, that he was worth Eddie giving a second chance to, that when Steve had kissed him Eddie hadn’t punched him square in the nose, that Eddie had kissed him back.

It still makes his chest hum, when he thinks about it too hard. Makes his lips twitch when he’s spacing out in class, when he’s eating dinner with his parents or when he’s driving to school: because his mind is on Eddie. He thinks about what Eddie might be doing. If his day has been okay and if anyone gave him any shit, if all of his deals went smoothly or if Mrs. O’Donnell still has it out for him.

He wonders if Eddie ever thinks the same about him.

Steve… likes to think he does, especially at times like this. At times when Eddie has Steve’s head pillowed on his chest, when Eddie’s fingers are in Steve’s hair and their legs are tangled together, when the movie they’d been watching is glowing blue on the screen, the tape over, and Steve can’t find it within himself to get up and turn it off.

Eddie’s fingers are scratching behind his ears, and the pattering of rain on the trailer’s tin roof is lulling Steve into a pleasant sort of doze. Sleep always comes easier with Eddie next to him.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie murmurs, and Steve likes this the most. Sweetheart and honey and baby, names that fall so easily from Eddie’s lips like Steve’s something sweet. Like he’s something worth savoring.

He hums and doesn’t move, Eddie’s fingers still in his hair.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie reminds him, “you spendin’ the night?”

Steve shouldn’t. His parents will ask questions he can’t answer and every night they spend with the Bimmer out front is another night of gossip they hand over to Eddie’s neighbors—

But Eddie is warm. His hairy legs are locked around Steve’s like he doesn’t want to let him go and his lips are so close to the crown of Steve’s head he can feel the breath of his words and Steve thinks maybe enduring a phone call with his parents is worth it. He could borrow Eddie’s boxers. He could wear one of Eddie’s more neutral shirts to school tomorrow and the two of them would be the only ones who knew.

“You gonna let me go if I say no?” Steve props himself up on his elbows, the question falling from his tongue because he can’t help but tease, because Eddie’s face always flushes like he’s in awe of it.

Eddie’s legs flex and lock, his arms wrapping possessively around Steve’s middle even as his cheeks darken. “If I had it my way,” he murmurs, tilting his head close, “I’d never let you go.” And Eddie kisses him. Steve parts his lips as Eddie’s tongue slips inside, warm and wet and coveting, licking behind his teeth—

The lights flicker. Steve can see the flash of the them through his closed eyelids and even as he tells himself it’s nothing the hairs on his arms stand on end, his ears begin to ring as his senses heighten, the only noise still the rain on the roof and the wet sounds of their mouths, until it happens again.

Steve breaks their kiss, dread pooling low in his belly as he hovers over Eddie, his gaze darting around the room as he searches for anything he could use to protect them both.

“Sorry,” Eddie exhales, “shoddy electrical in this thing.”

But Steve can barely hear him as the ringing in his ears grows, his skin beginning to tingle as that familiar surge of adrenaline begins to flood him.

“Sweetheart?”

The lights go out.

Steve scrambles off the couch, nearly taking himself out at the knees over Eddie’s coffee table, and lunges for the lamp on the side table. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something. It would, if Steve was lucky, be enough for Eddie to—

“Steve—?”

“Get behind me,” Steve interrupts, his palms slick as he wrenches the cord from the outlet, holding the heavy wooden base of the lamp high above his head.

“Stevie, baby, maybe the power doesn’t go out on your side of the tracks but over here it’s—”

“Please.” Steve’s voice cracks over the vowels, desperation flooding him: he can’t lose Eddie. He can’t. Just the thought of it—the thought of Eddie anywhere close to what lies beneath their feet makes his palms slicken, makes his heart jackrabbit in his chest and his blood thunder in his ears.

He can’t let it happen.

The couch creaks as Eddie rises, their backs to the wall as Steve holds up his lamp, unseeing, into the dark.

For long minutes that’s all they do: the only sounds are Steve’s uneven breaths and the pattering of rain on the roof, and Steve’s gaze flicks between every point of entry as his eyes adjust to the dark.

But as the rain patters on, as lightning flashes outside and as the adrenaline begins to wane from his blood, as the lamp he’s been holding over his head begins to feel like it weighs a ton, embarrassment begins to fill him instead.

It was just the storm. It was the rain, and the wind, and the trailer’s old electrical system, and Steve had forced Eddie into a corner over nothing.

Steve sets down the lamp, his arms trembling as the adrenaline surge leaves his muscles tired and shaking. He licks his lips, his mouth bone dry, and brings the heels of his palms to his eyes. Heavily, he sits back on the couch, unable to look Eddie in the eyes. “Sorry,” he croaks, “that was—” but he can’t explain. He can’t explain because that would open Eddie to a world Steve wants—needs—to protect him from.

His teeth begin to chatter, and his hands are trembling so badly he curls them up, pressing his fists into the sockets of his eyes just so he doesn’t look like he’s losing it completely.

The trailer floor creaks, and Eddie, slowly, sits beside him. Just the weight of him makes Steve’s nerves ease, his jaw unclenching.

“I don’t like heights,” Eddie murmurs into their quiet, and Steve has no idea why he’s bringing this up but at least he’s talking, at least he’s not throwing Steve out the door for losing his shit. “Jeff has to drive when we go over bridges.” His hand rests on the small of Steve’s back. “I’m gonna go get some candles, yeah? I’ll be right back.” Eddie rubs a soft circle against Steve’s spine before standing, his footsteps rapid before he clatters around a closet just a few feet away.

He’s quick, and within a minute there’s three mostly-burned candles flickering dimly on the coffee table, and Steve no longer feels like his heart’s going to beat out of his chest when he can finally meet Eddie’s gaze. “Sorry,” he says again, lamely, his voice still shaky, “it’s normally not that bad.”

Because it’s not. Because adding Eddie to the mix—the mere potential of it—had sent Steve into a panic.

“It’s okay if it’s that bad,” Eddie states, simply, like that’s all it boils down to, like what just happened isn’t completely and totally fucking insane. Eddie takes his hand, and Steve realizes how cold his own fingers are against the heat of Eddie’s palm. “It can be that bad around me.”

Tears, unbidden and unexpected flood Steve’s lower lids and he has to stop himself from blinking so they don’t spill. He sniffs hard, instead, and squeezes Eddie’s hand.

“Stevie?” Eddie murmurs, his voice gentle and probing, “this is why you have that nail bat under your bed, isn’t it?”

Too fucking smart. Eddie is too fucking smart for his own good and Steve is livid at himself for falling for someone who’s smart enough to connect any of the dots—but Steve is weak. He’s weak, and he nods instead of denying it, because as desperate as he is to keep Eddie away from it all, to be understood by him, even in this small amount, is a relief he can’t resist.

“Wayne always thought there was something wrong with this town,” Eddie mutters, and Steve can’t help his choked breath of a laugh because of course—of course—Wayne would know. “Always said the government was out here covering it all up.” Eddie nods, like without Steve having to validate any of it, he already knows. “He always says they’ve got ways of keeping people quiet.” Eddie mutters. He stares, and Steve realizes that, really, was a question.

He barely moves, but Eddie is watching, and his eyes widen when Steve tilts his head, just slightly, forwards.

And then Eddie’s scooting closer. He’s wrapping Steve up in his arms and the smell of cigarettes and cedar wraps around him, and his face is pressed into Eddie’s warm neck and Eddie’s fingers are back in his hair.

“You’re okay,” Eddie murmurs, and then, after a moment, like he was hesitating, adds, “and I’m okay, too, sweetheart. ’S just us, here.”

Steve clings back, his fingers pressing deep and desperate against Eddie’s back, like his very hold could be what keeps Eddie next to him, safe.

And Steve’s not letting go.

✨✨✨

And then they lived happily ever after and nothing bad happened to them ever again 🥰

Thank you for the prompt! It feels so good to be able to post these again!

Also, I’m so sorry, but it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything on here that I lost my permanent tag list. I think that’s just my sign that I’m not going to do it anymore 😅 apologies to anyone who is unhappy about that 🫶

My biggest hugs and kisses to @hbyrde36 for her betaing 💗✨

h e a v e n l y

A light study got out of hand and turned into a Steve Harrington museum painting!

💙🧡

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