missmagillicuddy

[missmagillicuddy]

When Eddie gets excited, he gets a bit overwhelmed. At least, that’s what Steve has noticed, with the way Eddie has to take a quick running lap, bounce up and down, etc. whenever he gets too happy.

Steve secretly thinks it’s adorable and tries his best to induce these little happy zoomies.

It doesn’t take much. Sometimes it’s just a small compliment such as, “That shirt looks nice on you,” that has Eddie bouncing on his heels and fidgeting with his rings with a smile on his face. Sometimes, Steve tries to notice something new like when Eddie trims his bangs or paints his nails, that makes Eddie flush red and mumble, “Yeah, I did,” before taking a quick walk around Family Video before making his way back to him.

This time, Steve isn’t really trying to get a reaction out of Eddie who is angrily storming around the break room of Family Video after Steve had seen his face upon entering the store and ushered him to the back.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie mutters out, running a hand over his face. Steve sits back quietly, letting Eddie go on a little rant. “He said, we were allowed to have the basement for our campaign. All of it. Then, Ted Wheeler in all his glory suddenly says that we’re too loud, and we can’t do the campaign at their house anymore. I mean… it’s one more session! He could’ve sat in that damn recliner and shut him mouth for one more session! Fuck.”

Eddie groans dramatically and sits on the ground, head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do. It’s summer so we don’t have access to the school. And I can’t risk breaking in and having them take away my well earned diploma. Plus, my trailer is too small, and no one else has the privacy of Mike’s basement. We’re done for!”

Steve shrugs, seeing a clear answer to the problem. “You can do it at my house. My parents are never home, and I can stay in my room for as long as you need.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, not really sure why he’s so shocked.

Eddie stands up quickly. “You’re positive you can deal with all the Hellfire members in your house?”

Steve nods. “I’ll even buy you guys pizza if you want.”

“Buy us pizza…” Eddie mumbles under his breath in disbelief. “Steve Harrington, are you granting me permission to use your house for Hellfire Club meaning hours of us yelling maybe even late into the night while we play our nerdy game?”

Steve nods and shrugs again. “Yeah. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Eddie repeats, once again in disbelief. He slightly smiles. “We’re going to be able to complete the campaign.” He bounces on his heels excitedly. “We’re going to complete the campaign!” He runs up to Steve and hugs him tightly, jumping up and down, successfully jostling a laughing Steve in his arms. “We have a place to complete the campaign!!”

Eddie puts him down and pulls back with a big smiles. “Thank you! Seriously thank you. This means so much I could just-”

Before Steve can react, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing his mouth against his in an enthusiastic kiss.

Eddie pulls back quickly and puts his hands over his mouth in horror. “Oh my gosh. I’m so- fuck. I’m so fucking sorry. I just got uh…”

Steve waves him off as Eddie backs as far away from him as possible. “You just got excited. It’s okay.”

It’s okay as it can be considering that Steve really wants to kiss Eddie again although he’s not sure what that really means. But suddenly the urge to make Eddie happy makes a whole lot of sense.

Shit. Okay. He can work with this.

He glances up at Eddie who looks petrified in fear. “I just got excited…” he whispers out.

Steve slowly makes his way to him and puts his hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay, Eddie. Really. I uh, enjoyed it.”

“You enjoyed it?” Eddie echoes uncertainly.

“Yes. But if it was just an excitement thing, I understand.”

Eddie breathes out, “And what if it was more than an excitement thing?”

Steve takes a step further into Eddie’s space and tilts his head. “Then I’d ask if I could kiss you.”

Eddie swallows harshly and leans forward. “It was definitely more than an excitement thing.”

Steve smiles softly and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, slipping his hands into Steve’s hair as he moves forward again.

This time, Steve knows to respond, moving his lips against Eddie’s gently before tracing his tongue against the seam of his lips, exploring the inside of his mouth when Eddie lets him in.

When Steve reluctantly pulls away from the kiss to check on Eddie, he gets a quick nip to the lip.

Eddie flushes red. “So, I sometimes bite when I’m happy.”

Steve leans in again and whispers against his lips, “Thank god I’m into that.”

And he’s going to make sure to learn all the ways to elicit these responses from Eddie, but first, he’s going to learn all the ways Eddie likes to be kissed.

[missmagillicuddy]

So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

[missmagillicuddy]

bet.

steddie | 2.8k

read on ao3

Happy Birthday @wynnyfryd 🥰🥰🥰 I've had this idea floating around in my brain for a while now and seeing it was your birthday prompted me to finish it 💕

---

It's his first time in Indianapolis as an out bisexual, so of course Robin takes him to a gay club - to experience the drag queens and to see other queer people having fun, she says.

It's a little overwhelming, the bright lights and the music and the people. But he's having a great time, people watching and drinking virgin daiquiris and talking with Robin.

She's been here before - she came with Vickie when they were still together one weekend and they had a blast. So when Steve figured his sexuality shit out and came out to her, this was the first place she wanted to take him.

Now, he can see why. It's a haven of sorts. Gay men dancing together and kissing each other, gay women getting cozy in the booths, drag queen and drag kings about. He hasn't felt like he's belonged somewhere in a long time, but it kind of feels like he belongs here. The atmosphere is welcoming and kind.

They dance a little before everything gets overwhelming and then they find an empty booth to sit down and sip at their drinks in.

Robin keeps trying to encourage him to find someone to kiss so that they can call this night a success, but he keeps telling her that no one has caught his eye. And it's kind of true. He's seen some men that he thinks might be his type, but they're all paired up with men who look nothing like Steve. Even then, the few people that have caught his eye weren't right, somehow.

He keeps holding out, hoping to find someone that makes his heart skip a beat, or whatever the appropriate cliche for a gay club is.

And it. It happens.

He glances over at the bar as he's taking the last few sips of his drink, thinking about if he wants to brave the crowd at the bar, when he sees him.

His heart doesn't skip a beat, but he knows as soon as he lays eyes on him that he wants him. He's beautiful - and intimidating.

He's sitting facing away from the bar with his legs splayed open, ripped jeans revealing what looks like fishnet stockings underneath them. He's wearing a tank top that's showing off his many tattoos and Steve is struck with the urge to know what they taste like. His combat boots are clunky and could seriously kick someone's ass if they messed with him. His wavy hair is half tied up, a messy ponytail holding his hair out of his face, but the bottom half is freely falling past his shoulders.

He kind of feels like he's been bit by the love bug - he can't take his eyes off him.

He knows Robin is saying something to him, but he can't even hear it. It's all just background noise. He doesn't think he's ever been so captivated by someone before. He wants to put his mouth on him.

"Steve? Oh my god, stop ignoring me!" Robin says and snaps her fingers in front of his face, pulling him from his reverie. He looks over at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, Robbie," he says, looking back over at the guy briefly and yep, he's still just as hot as the first time he looked.

"What was that? Did you see someone you like? You looked like you blacked out for a minute there," she says, a smirk pulling at her lips.

He rolls his eyes. Of course she already knows - his type is people that look like they could stomp on him and he'd say thanks. "Black tank top, ripped jeans, at the bar. I think I'm in love," he says with a sigh. He's way too intimidated to go over there.

She squeals in his ear and says, "This is so exciting! You have to go kiss him now."

"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not just gonna go up to a stranger and ask if he'll be my first gay kiss."

"And why not?" she asks, stirring her drink.

"Because that's insane," he says. "He's probably already got someone. He's, he's gorgeous. There's no way he's here alone." It's a shame, but it's probably true - he's way too good looking to be here alone.

"There's only one way to find out," Robin says. She leans forward and whispers in his ear, a challenge of sorts.

"You can't be serious," he says to her, questioning his own sanity for even entertaining her for one second.

She leans back in and whispers more into his ear and he groans.

"You're diabolical," he tells her, pulling back to smack a kiss on her forehead. He stands up and takes a deep breath before marching over to the bar. He can't believe he's doing this.

He marches right up to the guy and immediately every word in his vocabulary is gone. He's so fucking pretty.

"Um. Uh, hi," he says, stupidly.

The guy bites his lip and grins at him. He says, "Hi," back to him and Steve is literally going to die, he thinks. He couldn't see it from across the club before, but this guy has a lip piercing, and Steve wants to know what it feels like against his mouth so fucking bad.

"I need you to kiss me," he blurts out, trying not to cringe.

"You need me to, to kiss you?" the guy asks, and this was a bad idea, the worst idea Robin's ever had. There's no way he's going to agree to this.

"So, my friend-" he stops, looking back at Robin - she waves at them. He's trying so hard not to blush as he turns back to the guy and says, "She bet me that I couldn't get a guy to kiss me since it's my first time here. So I was wondering if you would kiss me, so I can win the bet." He's steeling himself for rejection, for this guy to tell him to fuck off or maybe have mercy and let him down gently by telling him he's taken.

But he just smiles, tilting his head at Steve. "Why me?"

"Hmm?" Steve asks.

"Why me?" the guy asks again. "Out of all the guys here, you picked me. Why?"

Steve sputters for a second. "You, I mean. You have to know how you look, right? Like, you're gorgeous."

He grins again, tonguing at his lip ring and Steve is so down bad for him, it's actually insane. "Okay," he says. "I'll accept that answer. Now, if you get your kiss, you win your bet, but what's in it for me?"

Steve is hoping that if he's still talking to him, that means he actually has a shot. He's feeling dizzy with how much he wants to kiss him. He really fucking hopes he can kiss him.

He says, "A kiss?" with what he hopes is a charming - and not at all maniacal - grin.

The guy snorts. Rude. He snorts at Steve and says, "I think I'll need a little more that that, don't you think, sweetheart?"

Steve nods dumbly, says, "I'll split my winnings with you. Would that work?"

He's not expecting it to work, is the thing. He doesn't expect him to say yes.

Which is why he's so surprised when he reaches out and tugs Steve closer by the collar of his shirt. He did not know being yanked around was his thing, but apparently it is because good god.

"That works for me," the guy says, eyes going molten as he looks at Steve.

He can't believe that worked. Holy shit.

He's. He's nervous, he realizes. He's had a lot of first kisses, been on many first dates that ended in him kissing someone unfamiliar. But this is nerve-wracking for him in a way it hasn't been before.

He lets the guy pull him in further by his collar, lets him control when the kiss happens.

The first press of their lips has Steve sighing and opening his mouth slightly, wanting more, wanting to taste him. He kisses him, lets himself be kissed really. He opens his mouth more when a tongue snakes out and presses into his mouth.

Steve's hands come up to pull him closer, to pull - fuck, he doesn't even know his name, yet. He's doing this all wrong. He meant to get his name before shoving his tongue down his throat.

But it's good, the feeling of soft lips pressed against his, the cold metal of his piercing pressing against his mouth, his tongue stroking over Steve's in a way that makes him wish they were alone, wish they weren't here surrounding by all these people. He wants to kiss him and keep kissing him until the breath runs out of his lungs. He wants to put his hands on him, to dip his fingers into the rips in his jeans and feel the rough fishnets against his fingertips.

He pulls his mouth away to gasp out, "What's your name?" because he needs to know, needs to have some connection, some thread to hold onto, to grasp as they're kissing.

"Eddie," he whispers against Steve's mouth. "What's yours?" Eddie asks. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

"Steve," he says before pressing his mouth against Eddie's again. He wants to kiss him forever. He never wants to stop. He wants Eddie to keep licking into his mouth like he owns it until the bartender yells out that it's last call. He wants Eddie to keep holding him like this until Robin drags him away as they turn the lights on in the club to kick everyone out. He wants, he wants, he wants.

He gets a hand tangled in Eddie's hair and gets their heads tilted right so that they can lick deeper into each other's mouths. It's burning him up inside, the way their tongues are sliding together, the way Eddie's licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue like he's trying to taste the daiquiri he was drinking earlier.

Eddie tastes like tobacco and something sweet, like he was drinking something sweet before Steve came up to him too. God, Steve wants to know everything about him - what's his go-to drink order, does he smoke, does he prefer beer over mixed drinks, is he seeing anyone, please don't be seeing anyone, god.

He feels desperate, he feels out of control. He wants Eddie to take him apart like he's never wanted anything else in his life. He wants those hands on him, wants to feel the rings on his fingers pressing marks into his skin. He want his hands gripping his hips, sliding down and touching him. He doesn't think he's ever wanted like this.

The only reason they break apart is because someone's elbow ends up in Steve's back and he ends up pushed further into the crease of Eddie's thigh. He feels him hard against him and he knows Eddie can feel how hard he is too. Fuck, it's like everything else faded away when Eddie's mouth was on his, but now that they're not kissing, he's suddenly achingly aware that he's hard in his incredibly tight pants after making out with Eddie for god knows how long.

His face is probably red and sweaty, but Eddie's still looking at him like he wants him and god, does he want him back.

But he pulls back a little, puts some space between their hips because he quite literally can't ditch Robin here go hook up with Eddie, no matter how much he wants to.

He bites his lip and pulls his hand back, the one that was tangled in Eddie's long hair. He puts it on Eddie's chest and asks, "Was that okay?" because he thinks he knows the answer, but it never hurts to hear it.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and says, "Was that okay, he asks. Sweetheart, I think you and I both know that was something on a completely different realm from just okay."

If Steve wasn't blushing before, he definitely is now. He says, "Good, good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

Eddie leans close like he's going to kiss him again. He brushes his lips against Steve's in a dry press - barely a kiss, but it has Steve aching all the same anyway. He drags his mouth along his jaw, just mouthing at it, and it's the hottest thing Steve's ever felt.

He whispers in Steve's ear, "Your friend is trying really hard to get your attention right now," and that pulls Steve right back down to earth.

He pulls away again and turns around to see Robin waving her arms at him. He puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows at her. She waves her hand at him, beckoning him back to their table so he holds up a finger to tell her to hold the fuck on.

He turns back around and says, "I think I'm being summoned. As much as I want to stay and as much as I, like, desperately want to keep kissing you, I should get back to my friend."

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the bar and Steve can't help the way his eyes sweep over him again. Eddie's smirking when he looks back up at him.

"That's fair," Eddie says. "So, what did we win?"

Steve makes a questioning sound, before he remembers what Eddie's talking about. He sheepishly brings a hand up to swipe his hair out of his face where its begun to stick to his forehead. "Oh, uh, about that. There never really was a bet."

"Really?" Eddie asks, leaning forward again into Steve space, like that's the most interesting thing he's heard all night.

Steve shakes his head. "I promised half of the winnings, but the winnings are zero, so half of zero is still zero, you know?"

Eddie grins at him and says, "You're kind of devious, you know that? Here I was, thinking I'd get a prize at the end of that kiss."

"Sorry for getting your hopes up, but I mean, it was a good kiss, right?" Steve asks, boldly leaning forward to press his mouth against Eddie's again. Eddie lets him, lets Steve kiss him, softer than before. Before it was all new and exciting and hot, and it still is, but this kiss is tender, pulling a gasp from Steve's lips when they separate.

"It was a good kiss," Eddie agrees, pecking him on the lips again, soft and sweet.

"Can I have your number?" Steve asks, trying to be brave for once. He got Eddie to kiss him, even if it was under less than truthful circumstances, but he hopes it was good enough to warrant a call back.

"Your friend, is she seeing anyone?" Eddie asks, and Steve's head is kind of spinning at the redirection there.

"She and her girlfriend broke up a couple months ago. Why?" he asks, wondering where this is going. If this guy is actually somehow straight and only kissed him to get with Robin, Steve's gonna lose it.

"I'll tell you what, if you can convince your friend to kiss my friend, you can have my number," Eddie says, gesturing to the girl that's been sitting next to him at the bar this entire time.

And- oh. Oh god, he's embarrassed.

Has she just been awkwardly sitting there while Eddie made out with him? He was half a second away from dry humping Eddie and his friend was sitting there patiently waiting for them to stop. That's embarrassing.

She's cute - she's got this whole cheery, bubblegum vibe to her that didn't make Steve glance twice at her once he had his eyes set on Eddie because the two of them are kind of polar opposites. He didn't think they were here together.

His eyes shift back and forth between them and she waggles her fingers at him in a wave, smirking at his caught out look.

"Chrissy," she says, sticking out her hand to shake Steve's. He's kind of intimidated by her too, but he's got to hand it to her - he doesn't think even Robin would sit through him making out with someone right next to her. He guesses he does kind of owe it to both her and Robin. He and Eddie were making out for a while.

"Steve," he says, lamely. "Sorry for making out with your friend right next to you. Um, I'm gonna go grab Robin now."

They both watch him as he leaves, which makes his skin prickle and his heartbeat speed up. He makes a beeline back to Robin and lets her coo at him for a minute about having his first gay kiss.

She's talking a mile a minute asking about how it was, if he got his number, when Steve interrupts her.

"Bobbin, you are not gonna believe this," he says, and when he's got her attention, he continues, "I think I just found you a girlfriend?"

[missmagillicuddy]

Oh God! I just spent like 10 minutes dying in laughter from those pictures!

Eddie and Steve kept catching the other's eye every time Dio, their grey and white cat, kept flopping down with a world-weary sigh that, this time, wasn't due to Eddie being annoying showing affection. The poor thing had formed a habit of seeking out the cool floor vents or worming his way into fridge when it was open, but that behavior never seemed too out of character, considering how his fluffy butt would shoot outside and completely starfish-jump into a fresh mound of snow if given the opportunity. And he was always given a lot.

On a leash, of course.

The first time that had happened, Steve and Eddie doubled over in laughter, hands slapping at arms until the "Did you see that?!" of the moment turned into "Can you see him?!" and they both frantically started digging for him. The snow-chilled but panic-warmed reunion yielded a very unamused Dio held tight against Steve's chest (with a hyperbolic "He's frozen solid!") as Eddie's forehead pressed between Dio's snow-dusted ears with a vow of "Never again" spilled from his chapped lips.

But that was January of last year, and it was now July of this year, and — look. The decision was that the cat needed his fur trimmed past just the regularly-scheduled maintenance of the very necessary Butt Trim. It was the peak of summer, and Dio was obviously uncomfortable in his long fur that was thicker than Eddie's skull, the latter of which was unfortunately to blame for the current situation:

Little Dio, Baby D, Dionysus, Rice-a-Ronnie fighting for his hairy little life on the top of the dryer, wiggling like an eel half out of Eddie's hold, claws raking through fur clippings and skidding against its absolutely gripless surface. The clippers buzzed menacingly from the floor after falling off the dryer.

Eddie tried his best to talk the cat down, cooing little things like "You're gonna look so handsome, Steve's gonna be so impressed. You're gonna be such a cool cat," but Dio the Diabolical didn't want any part of that.

Butt trim? No problem. Starting there probably would have been the better idea, but Eddie — alone, forsaken, and abandoned, thanks to Steve getting called in to work on his off day — had started working at the other end and soon found that the job couldn't be carried out with just one set of hands, committed though they were.

After a well-fought struggle, Eddie finally let Dio go with permission to "be free and angry — for now," and turned the clippers off, but he was not prepared for the sight that fully registered when he found Dio sitting on a stool next to the counter.

After an appropriate gasp, Eddie muttered, "Ohhh my god. Diogenes, what have I done?" from behind his hand, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry.

Dio ignored him, fully in ice-out mode as he groomed his face. He didn't even flinch as Eddie snapped a picture on his phone, but didn't take too kindly to the tone of Eddie's "Why are you so tiny?!" so he hopped down and found another spot in a different room.

Eddie texted the following to Steve:

I made a mistake he won't let me clip anymore. Will I be arrested.

Not even ten seconds later, Eddie received a video call from Robin Buckley, who was absolutely howling in laughter, featuring a horrified Steve in the background, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone.

The rest of the fur trim may or may not have happenedb until a few days later because the sight was just so ridiculously fascinating (and Robin had insisted on experiencing its full glory in person). His fuzzy boots and a fluffy tuft at the end of his tail remained, though.

[missmagillicuddy]

A Zoom call gone wrong

A little modern Steddie AU. I've never written one of these so if you like it, please let me know in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve was absolutely not feeling it. He didn’t want to wake up for a 7 AM course and he was certainly regretting signing up for it now. He was not an early bird so any time earlier than 10 AM left him feeling, and looking, like a corpse. His mood only soured further when the professor insisted he turn his camera on or leave the class. 

So, he begrudgingly turned his laptop’s camera on, focused it on where he looked like shit, and settled in. Steve heard his professor’s voice droning on and on in the background and he started to fall asleep. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a huge deal. The professor had plenty of other students to pay attention to so he wouldn’t have noticed Steve sleeping in one small box on his screen. It never would’ve been an issue if nothing significant had happened. 

Halfway through the four hour lecture, Eddie walked behind him, completely naked, to go into the kitchen. Several students on the zoom call took a double take but Steve didn’t even notice. He was halfway asleep, dozing while sitting up, and had his eyes closed. People almost thought they’d imagined the whole thing until Eddie walked behind him again from the kitchen to the bedroom, still completely nude, but with an iced coffee in hand. Steve though was still none-the-wiser with his head leaning on his hand and a bead of drool dripping from his mouth. He didn’t notice but his professor certainly did. 

“Mr. Harrington!”

Steve startled awake and his eyes shot open. “Wha- yes sir?”

“Please tell your roommate to clothe himself before perverting our vision with his nudity!”

He turned around in confusion. Roommate? He didn’t have a roommate and there was no one else around. 

“With the long hair and preposterous tattoos!” Oh shit, he meant Eddie. Not his roommate but his boyfriend. And his entire zoom class had just seen him naked. 

Another student spoke up in defense of Steve as he flushed with horrified embarrassment. “Professor, he wanted to keep his camera off. You’re the one that pressed the issue. I bet you wished you hadn’t now.”

“Young man-”

Steve just blushed even harder before slamming his laptop shut. Holy fuck, he’d never been so horrified. 

He’s far too embarrassed to ever return to that class so he drops it a mere twenty minutes later and never goes back. 

Everyone learned something from that experience. Eddie learned to put on boxers at least before he got out of bed to get his morning iced coffee. Steve learned to never take another morning class ever again and to warn Eddie when he was on a zoom call. His professor and classmates learned that Eddie had a tattoo of Garfield on his ass and Steve’s name tattooed on his chest. And the Party learned that they’d been dating for six months without telling anyone. 

Yeah, if Steve wasn’t embarrassed enough already, he certainly was when he found out that the zoom recording ended up on YouTube and Try Not to Laugh videos everywhere. The kids saw way more of Eddie than they ever wanted to. Wayne discovered that Eddie had way more tattoos than he told him about. And Robin was overly offended that the entire internet found out about her best friends dating before she did. 

Lessons learned, indeed.

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[missmagillicuddy]

small steddie time travel/time loop s3 ficlet, open to writing more parts!

"Harrington! Customers!"

Pins and needles flood Steve's limbs as Robin's voice slowly comes into focus, his eyes still scrunched closed with sleep. The tiredness is heavy in his bones, like he's been asleep for years in the oddly cold back room of Family Video.

"Dingus!"

Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep on his break. Actually, he doesn't remember taking his break at all. Or even coming into Family Video. In fact, the last thing he remembers was covered in black and red slime-

"DINGUS! YOUR BREAK IS SO OVER!"

Steve forces his eyes open to witness the too-white walls of a break room that burned down a year ago. Frantic hands run over the garish blue and red of the tacky sailor uniform he hated, the same uniform he lit on fire in his backyard with Robin before the start of her senior year. Somehow, it's back. All of it. It's all come back to haunt him.

Robin from a year ago seems to also be back to haunt him -or maybe she's here as his savior- either way, she's just as loud as ever as she kicks the swinging door to the cramped back room in. It hits the wall with a crack, causing a jolt of both familiarity and dread to shoot up Steve's spine.

He waits for the tell-tale chime of a clock that was still ringing in his ears before he woke up in the summer of '85 or Robin's face to start warping into the melted mass of tentacles hiding in the Creel attic that will certainly become a common occurrence in his nightmares, but the only thing in front of him is Robin's all too common apathetic yet disappointed stare.

"I gave you an extra 7 minutes to sleep, but that little sampling-brat and her terror-troop are back for more and I swear to God, Harrington, I cannot deal with her again today, I just can't-"

Steve cuts off her ramble by scrambling out of his seat with more effort than either of them had ever put into this job, squeezing past her and out of the small doorway.

"Steve, where are you- hey!" Robin says as she latches into Steve's shoulder before he can finish his beeline out the door.

"I'll explain later if you still exist," Steve responds as he turns out of her grasp, shoving past the group of teens making their way into the store. He can hear Robin's small shouts after him, but her exasperation with him is nothing new and frankly the least of his worries.

Starcourt, somehow, is still standing. Clamping down on his rising heart rate, Steve glances around for any sign of the current date, or even year. Everything is exactly the same as it was a year ago, but Steve knows nothing he sees can be trusted. Not with the visions Max described, that's for goddamn certain. While he doesn't know enough science fiction shit like Dustin to know if he jumped universes or is in a different reality or whatever the fuck, he can at least place a little bit of faith in his ability to distinguish dreams and visions from reality.

His frantic pace along with the extremely out of place sailor costume draws in a few curious stares, but again, least of his worries. No one's faces warp into slimy horrors and none of the walls start crawling with vines, no flickering lights, no distorted voices in his head, no signs of the upside down at all. As comforting as that should be in theory, that means it's something else entirely and definitely something Steve can't figure out on his own.

He finds himself leaving a trail of pinches down his arm as he reaches the far side of the mall, posters for the theater coming into view. A particular poster catches his eye, BACK TO THE FUTURE highlighted in yellow and orange in all its sci-fi font glory.

Fuck. 1985. Again.

He presses his fingertips into the glass covering the poster as his breaths come out raggedy and sharp. C'mon, wake up man. It's all some weird ass fever dream, you probably just hit your head again.

He waits a few seconds and prays to wake up. Nothing. Obviously, he thinks. He's stuck, somehow, a year ago, with no clue how it happened or how to fix it or if anything here is even real in the first place.

Steve isn't the guy who comes up with plans, okay? That's more of a Nance thing, and Steve is totally fine with his role as the muscle. Unfortunately, right now there seems to be absolutely no Nancy Wheeler, and Steve has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.

He steps back from the entrance to the theater and spins around probably faster than he should for someone who maybe just got shot through time, and comes face to face with a small music store labeled Hot Wax Records in some sort of groovy 70's style font. That's not what gets him though.

Steve stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the guy at the front desk. His hair's a little shorter than he last remembers it, hitting just above his shoulders instead of just below them. The man is wearing a familiar denim vest with slightly fewer patches and less grime than was on it when it was adorning Steve's shoulders, but familiar all the same. What gets Steve though is that the man at the counter is white-knuckling the edge with one hand while the other braces and claws itself around his neck, a look of equal parts horror and recognition strewn across his features. He looks on the verge of screaming, yet his eyes are forcefully locked into Steve's with a determination Steve had only seen from him once before.

They both falter a half step forward as Steve struggles to find his tongue.

"Eddie?"

[missmagillicuddy]

mhm yep

im normal about them

[missmagillicuddy]

‘Did you ever play one of these backwards?’

‘Oh yeah!’

‘And?’

‘It said I’d meet a dark eyed stranger.’

‘Get out of here.’

‘Even said he’d crush a bat better than when Ozzy bit one’s head off.’

‘You’re full of shit, Munson.’

[missmagillicuddy]

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 

“Steve…” 

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 

Shit. 

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 

Fuck. 

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

[missmagillicuddy]

The Babysitting Plot.

the second and final part to this, <3. Thank yall so much for the nice comments and tags :')

Eddie's always been good at what he does; the large gestures, the brazen confidence, the eloquent vocabulary. He's used to wearing his loud personality as armor, it's easy, slides over him like a well worn jacket that's been trimmed into shape with years of ad libbing his way in and out of the oddest circumstances.

Hell there are days he even manages to impress himself with his own quick wit, far too many 'huh, can't believe that actually worked' moments stacked up from his day-to-day experiences. Because really, he's just that good at bullshitting his way through the shitshow he calls a life.

Point is, Eddie Munson hasn't been caught off guard in a long, long time.

It's why he reacts the way he does, because really, how does one salvage this situation?

He's going to fucking kill Gareth.

One second he's having the time of life, spacing out to some mildly offensive adult swim television show, and the next some pretty faced stranger is interrupting his lazy evening. Gareth's voice around the word 'babysitter' is still rattling off in his skull when this dude leans forward with the most insulting baby-voiced greeting Eddie's ever heard.

And because the bare and unprotected version of Eddie Munson is the very definition of a dumbass (the armor exists for a reason-), all he does is stare.

As in stare for a solid minute before some reflex at the back of his mind prompts him to not only wave back (jesus fucking christ) but also let out the stupidest fucking reply in Munson history.

"Huh. Hi Steve."

No witty response, no clever comment, no literal anything that isn't an unironic response to a grown man addressing him like a kindergartener.

Eddie kind of wants to leave the country, no scratch that, he wants to leave the planet, maybe travel to mars or something, settle down with a nice alien (the megamind kind of nice, not the E.T kind– imagine him and megamind, they would be unstoppable toge- focus Eddie.)

There's an amused tilt to Steve's lips, and Gareth– the heartless Judas fucking Iscariot looking headass that he is– doesn't hold back on his bark of laughter.

And listen, here's how this goes, when his defenses are down Eddie is strictly on the flight section of the survival response. Not the smart or subtle kind of flight, the kind that makes him gape like an idiot for the awkward second it takes his brain to catch up, before wordlessly getting up and tripping twice on a beeline for his room.

He's shutting the door behind him when he hears Gareth wheeze out a playful "Awe don't mind him Steve. He's a little shy." And were his braincells a little more functional, Eddie likely would have sprinted right back out, chased Gareth out and around the neighbourhood, in his Donald duck boxers and all, tackle him and like, eat his hair or something (which ew- but also justified, fuck mayo-scented hair, the guy deserves to be bald)

Eddie hears Gareth leave and has to listen to the sound of this Steve guy shuffling around on the other side of the door while he recovers from whatever the hell just happened. 'Recovering' meaning he sends a 'short' spam of colorfully worded texts to Gareth. When all he gets in response is a screenshot of a website with a conditioner bottle taking up half the screen–the price at the bottom is circled dramatically in bold red–the radio silence that follows the image is so insulting that he immediately begins plotting the best ways to kill off all and any DnD character his roommate ever makes again.

Eddie's in the middle of his devious revenge scheming, looking just a little manic in the full length mirror of his room where he's grinning– an outward manifestation of his internal disney villain laugh– when a quiet knock snaps him out of it.

"You okay in there?"

Right, the babysitter.

The initial wave of embarrassment is mostly dimished, soothed by the growing list of ways to get his friend back. Eddie's able to pick up the pieces of his usual armor, square his shoulders in the mirror and slide on a pair of sweats once he realizes how dumb the gesture looks with the 20 or so Donald prints staring judgementally back at him.

When Eddie swings the door open, Steve's fist is hanging in the air, posed to come down for another knock. His eyes are wide open from the suddenness of the movement, but he schools it so quickly into a charming smile that Eddie knows he must be the kind of guy to often 'pretty privilege' his way out of trouble.

"Ah there you are. Got worried for a second there."

There's that tone again, that devious glint in those large stupidly beautiful eyes.

'Screw this guy', Eddie thinks– metaphorically because his gay little mind can shut the fuck up for one night. Hot as the dude is, he is very much the enemy, a minion in Gareths evil ploy that must and will be ignored for the rest of the day.

"What the actual fuck are you doing?"

Steve doesn't even look up. He hums around the straw tucked between his pink, pouty lips, expression schooled into boredom as he continues on with the absolute abomination he's creating.

"Coloring." He answers simply, his dry tone contrasting the baby-ing one he'd given up on like 2 seconds into their second proper conversation.

Eddie gnaws at his own straw in frustration, because he's still not allowed to touch any of the beer cans in the kitchen, forced to find sustenance instead in the small pack of quickly diminishing juice boxes this absolute menace of a human being had pulled out of his seemingly bottomless 'activity' bag. He'd tried to sneak one in earlier, but by the second attempt the pack had disappeared and he still has no idea when Steve had gotten the time to hide it, much less where it was hidden (something about no drinking tonight, Gareth's orders. He hates them both so so much.)

But he's made his peace with that mostly, right now he's mostly concerned with the atrocious shade of yellow this guy is using to color in a frog. It's not even the type of coloring page you can do whatever you want with, it's one of those color-number association pages you're supposed to fill out in a certain way.

Eddie's all for flipping off the rules when it comes to the man and society's stupidity and what not, but there are certain things that are designed the way they are for a reason! He's a good DM because he knows how to appreciate the line between creativity and order, but this guy just– why the hell is he coloring everything yellow?

"Stop glaring at my picture and focus on yours." Steve says as he shifts to the next lily pad, wrist moving over the spread of fives that's supposed to mean green and not piss.

"Are you like- color blind or something?" or are you just deranged?

Eddie's kind of glad he doesn't say the second part out loud when Steve levels him with that strangely effective glare of his. He rolls his pretty eyes and goes back to his retched work, but it isn't enough to silence the force of nature that is Eddie Munson.

"Like seriously? What kind of adult doesn't know how to color?" Eddie continues, moving his attention back to his own masterpiece, a meadow that he's very skillfully fulling in, even going so far as to alternate between different shades of the directed color where he sees fit. It's kind of turning out to be a beauty if he does say so himself.

"Oh I don't know, maybe the kind of adult that still needs a babysitter." Steve doesn't even bat an eye when he answers, and the offended gasp falls from Eddie's lips before he can help himself.

"Oh fuck you." He hisses. "See this?" Eddie raises his glorious artwork, shaking it in front of Steve the artistically-challenged for further emphasis. "I can definitely color."

It doesn't occur to him that he should probably have been defending a different claim till about 5 minutes later, when he looks up from his nearly completed project with yet another offended gasp.

"And I don't need a babysitter."

Steve snorts, and really the only reason Eddie is still here is because he'd grown a little bored for a second in his room. He'll soon go back to ignoring the guy for the rest night.

"Oh that actually looks really good." Steve says, genuine surprise in his voice as he leans over. He kinda smells like the fragrance section of that fancy place Jeff had dragged him to once, but less overpowering and more comforting.

Eddie definitely doesn't like, preen at the compliment or anything.

"I think his self awareness and cynical attitude towards the ridiculous social expectations of our modern world makes him by far the most realistic and relatable character in the show."

Steve's still picking up the scatter of jenga blocks on the floor because trying to arrange them vertically for more of a challenge was a stupid idea- wasn't even Eddie's this time! He bunches his eyebrows up in that adorable way he does when he's both confused and judging you at the same time.

"I think he's just a grouchy duck."

Eddie brings a hand to his chest, clutches at it dramatically because really, what does this guy actually know how to appreciate.

"Take that back, Daffy is more than just a grouchy duck. He's a pop-culture icon "

Steve shakes his head, caps the container of the jenga blocks with a genuine smile that has Eddie more transfixed than he's willing to admit.

"You really like your ducks huh? You got a pair of Daffy boxers in there too?"

Eddie feels his cheeks warm up a little, has to fasten the armor just a little tighter because it shouldn't be this easy to get him flustered.

"Shut up. My uncle got me those you know. I wear them with pride."

Steve's smile widens and ugh, what business has he got being that pretty exactly?

"Cute. He a duck enthusiast too?"

Eddie's still feeling a little dazed, so it's all he can do to shakes his head and answer honestly.

"Nah the Donald one was part of a set he only got for the Garfield pair. There's this Garfield mug we always used to playfully fight for ownership over when we lived together. So when I moved he got the mug and I got the huh- set."

And honestly, if Steve keeps looking at him with such fondness Eddie thinks he might do something stupid like propose or start stripping or something. What's so amusing about cartoon themed underwear even? Dammit this is the enemy for goodness sake.

"Ah yes, Garfield." Steve hums. "Yet another self aware icon with a cynical attitude towards the ridiculous social expectations of our modern world."

Eddie knows it's just a parrot of his own words, but fucKing heLl. most of the time he doesn't even remember half the shit he says himself. Something about hearing his words repeated so easily, remembered so well, has his smile stretching into a full grin.

"See? you get it" He says, and Steve honest to God giggles. Eddie thinks his heart stops for a second there. And okay fine, maybe he'll stick around for juuust a little longer. But then he'll definitely go back to ignoring.

He doesn't in fact go back to ignoring Steve. Kinda hard to do when the guy pulls out something new to do out of his bottomless bag the moment they finish something. Like seriously he's like Mary Poppins if the legendary Nanny looked like a model straight out of an old navy commercial or some shit– why is that doing it for him? Seriously.

They play cards, do a few races with those miniature cars that drive a short distance when you pull them back. They bet on said races (Eddie loses 10 bucks), mess around with finger puppets till that somehow turns into a heavy story line with multiple scandals and a murder mystery at the end, and finish half a puzzle before getting distracted with shitty celebrity impressions.

By the time the activity bag is empty, it's almost 11pm and Gareth still isn't back.

"Well shit. It actually has an end." Eddie remarks when Steve shakes his bag as if trying hard enough will magically make something fall out.

"Oh hush. Don't act like you didn't have fun."

Eddie did. He had so much fun.

He's also pretty sure he now has the biggest crush on Steve because at the end of the day, if there's anything his gay little heart doesn't know how to do, it's shut up. It doesn't help that Steve isn't only hot as hell, but he's also funny, and sweet, and actually pretty smart considering how much he loves playing dumb. Eddie's also pretty sure the guys been flirting for at least the last hour, even taking the chance to get a little touchy when they'd talked about the stories behind some of his favorite tattoos. Not like Eddie had tried to discourage him because again, useless gay little heart.

"You got anything you wanna do then?" Steve asks, and well, Eddie can think of a few things, but he isn't about to scare the guy off with his lack of restraint, so he shrugs.

"Hey, you're the babysitter here."

"Thought you didn't need a babysitter." Steve answers immediately, and Eddie lets out a sarcastic set of 'ha ha's as he flops down onto the couch, watching as the last of the spread out games, books and toys are returned to the not so-magic-afterall bag.

With the space semi-cleaned up, Steve leaves the bag on the coffee table and drops onto the armrest of the same couch. He's close, close enough that Eddie can feel the warmth from his body. He drapes one arm over the backrest, humming thoughtfully for all of 2 seconds before shrugging.

"Well I can think of one more thing we can do."

Eddie sees the underlying request in the upward tug of his lips and immediately thinks: Oh thank God.

It's how Gareth finds them, still on that couch 20 minutes later.

Eddie doesn't hear him come in, far too distracted with the pressing need to touch every crevice in Steve's mouth with his tongue. Somewhere between the first 5 minutes after their lips made contact, Eddie had pulled him into his lap, and Steve– who apparently has as little self control as he does–had followed all too willingly.

Their kisses shift a few times between soft– peppered here and there with giggles and stupid remarks–and heavy, the ones loaded with rolling hips and wandering hands that leave ghosts of fingerstips against skin.

It's during one of these that they hear the Gareth-themed scandalized screech. Eddie flinches at the sudden noise, but Steve simply pulls away with the calm of someone who had likely heard the door open but chosen not to care.

His lips are wet and slightly swollen, well kissed and especially sinful when they pulls them into an innocent smile.

"Oh. You're back early." He says conversationally, as if he doesn't have a set of hands situated resolutely on his ass (Eddie absolutely isn't letting go until he has to).

Gareth looks the picture of horrified where he's standing at the edge of the living room, cheeks flushed either from alcohol or embarrassment (likely both). He's still very much in a state of shock, and if Eddie wasn't so distracted with the weight of the god on his lap and the feel of Steve's hand beneath his shirt, pressed against his bare chest, he'd point and laugh.

Right now he kind of just wants Gareth to go back to his weird computer club or wherever the hell he's coming from.

"No need to look so stressed." Steve teases, pulls his hand away despite the small protesting sound Eddie lets out. He brings the same hand up to pat Eddie's cheek, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks when he stares pointedly at his lips.

"I promise he's been good all night."

And sue him if that isn't the hottest thing he'd heard in his life– or maybe not, he can't exactly function well enough to remember anything about said life right now. Eddie's pretty sure he makes a sound guttural enough to elicited yet another disgusted noise from Gareth the traitor.

When Steve finally leaves– making sure to take his payment because makeout or not, he doesn't work for free– the victory of Gareth's prank feels so thoroughly trampled on that Eddie thinks he might just spare the guy's DnD character afterall.

He did sort of score him the hottest babysitter (later turned boyfriend) ever so...forgivable.

tried to get everyone who commented for a tag but i cant promise i didn't miss a few 😭

@pokopippitypop @gorgiagorgeous @sugartin @louismeds @bidisastersworld @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @mxmakessense @alyelf @m-owo-n @gigglechickenfae @gaysonthefloor @warlordess @hexdbog @deleataecount @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @bornonthesavage @largechaos @eccogirl @resident-gay-bitch @brassreign

[missmagillicuddy]

Falling

Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️

It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.

The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.

So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.

He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.

He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.

How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.

Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.

Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.

Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.

When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.

Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.

He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”

Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”

“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.

Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”

“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”

Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”

Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”

For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.

Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.

“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”

Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”

“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”

Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”

Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.

“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.

Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”

Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.

Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.

When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.

Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.

So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.

One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.

Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.

Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”

Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”

“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”

Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”

“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”

Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”

“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.

Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.

Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.

He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.

So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.

Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”

Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”

Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”

Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”

“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.

“Body of a Greek god?”

“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”

Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.

This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

It happens again a week later.

Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.

There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”

Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”

“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”

“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”

Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”

“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”

“Please.”

“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”

Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.

Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”

Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”

Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”

Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”

He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”

“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”

“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”

Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”

He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”

“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”

Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”

“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”

Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”

Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.

Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”

“Sunshine boy?”

Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”

Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”

“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”

“And theater.”

“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”

Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”

Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”

“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”

“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”

“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”

“Stay? After?”

“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”

After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.

Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”

Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”

Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”

Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been�� really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”

“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”

Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”

Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”

“It might take a while.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“I might never fully believe it.”

“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.

“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”

Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”

“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.

“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”

Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”

Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”

“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.

“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”

He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”

“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”

Steve hums. “Dionysus.”

“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.

Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.

“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.

“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”

“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”

Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”

Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”

“And if I said make me…”

Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.

He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.

“Just about.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.

“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”

Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”

“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”

“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”

“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”

“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.

He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.

He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.

[missmagillicuddy]

It starts as a harmless inside joke.

Jeff gets a girlfriend and moves out, Everett dedicates more of his time to his culinary courses, and Gareth himself, decides to get a life beyond gigs and Weed Wednesdays and joins a robotics club on campus.

The combination of all these occurences eventually–inevitably- creates a circumstance that leaves Eddie unsupervised in the rundown 2 bedroom apartment for a little over a week. With all members of his inner circle (read the 3 other Corroded Coffin members) out of town or busy with exams, Gareth has to assume that there was nothing left for the metalhead to do besides give in to each and every one of his usual impulses.

Which is why when he returns from his last midterm to find their shared kitchen space in shambles, Eddie, wide-eyed and seemingly caught red handed with a ladle of..jam?..halfway to his lips, at the center of it all, the only sensible thing to do is take a video and send it straight to the group chat.

Jeff: holy shit. you should really get him a babysitter before going anywhere.

It's the text that starts it all. From then on, all and any Eddie-shaped mishap, regardless of it's scale, is met with the same response. It's never said seriously, never been more than a side comment accompanied with the faintest of frustration or at most an eye roll.

Until the war.

Because as far as pranks go, there's a lot Gareth can put up with, will encourage even, but this?? No way.

He draws the line at having his baby tampered with.

Staring blankly at mayo coated fingers, newly recovered from his tampered conditioner bottle, Gareth makes an oath. He'll accept defeat in this war (if Eddie can do this much it's likely he has worse in store) but his hair will be avenged.

It's what brings him here, slurping obnoxiously on a mango smoothie as the guy across from him blinks slowly behind his wire framed glasses.

"I'm sorry what?"

His own milkshake is untouched, and there's a small but very confused frown on his face, a sunkissed kind of pretty that makes Gareth think he might be Eddie's type– which could easily turn this whole thing to either the best or worst payback ever, but he's come this far so there's no turning back now.

Gareth figures he should offer a better explanation than the one he's given so far, but there's something very entertaining about the absurdity of the request. Why not let himself enjoy it just a little longer? Pulling back his lips with an exaggerated pop, Gareth squints down at the wrinkled paper he'd ripped off of a bulletin board on campus earlier (incidentally the inspiration for this brilliant idea).

"Says here you're open to last minute requests, regardless of age."

The guy– Steve, as is stated on the paper– blinks at him incredulously, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Yeah but...your roommate?" The confusion on his face deepens slightly, head tilting sideways in a way that makes his hair bounce ever so slightly. It's great hair, Gareth wonders what he uses on it.

"How old is he?" Steve asks, and Gareth can practically see him trying to connect dots that sadly do not exist. Still he doesn't bat an eye, tone completely void of emotion when he says "he's 25."

Steve deadpans, parts his lips to say something but seems to decide against it last minute. There's suddenly a hint of guilt on his pretty features– definitely Eddie's type– and he hesitates before asking.

"Huh..is he..yknow...okay?"

An image of mayo on fingers flashes to Gareth's mind, followed instantly by the smug grin on Eddie's face after the war had ended with a surrender.

"That's currently under debate."

And it's clearly the wrong thing to say because suddenly Steve's confusion is transitioning into obvious annoyance. Considering how unclear and unhelpful he'd been so far, Gareth won't be surprised if the guy thinks he's being punked. So before Steve can give him a piece of his mind– judging by the way his eyes are narrowing, it's likely a very large piece– Gareth holds both hands up defensively.

"Okay okay let me explain properly."

5 minutes and a new smoothie later, Steve looks an odd combination of amused and bored where he's leaned against his seat, all signs of his previous professionalism completely gone.

Overall Gareth thinks he's a pretty chill dude, he'd reacted rightfully horrified when they'd gotten to the bit about the conditioner abomination.

"So let me get this straight." Steve says after placing his half empty milkshake back on the table. "Your roommate put mayo in your conditioner– fuck him for that by the way– and since yall have an inside joke about it, you want me to show up on Saturday as his babysitter while you go off partying with your robot friends."

"Robotics club" Gareth corrects

"Yeah whatever."

Considering the nature of the request, it's hard to judge the dismissive attitude, so Gareth shrugs.

"More or less. You down?"

There's a few seconds of what Gareth hopes is consideration before Steve mirrors the shrug. "Lemme see the guy."

Gareth's much too excited to overthink the "Oh yeah. I'm down." that Steve mumbles when he pulls out the post-gig selfie he'd taken with Eddie about a week ago.

He's got a guy for his genius revenge plan and that's all that matters.

Might have even weaseled a friendship out of it, because as they're packing up Steve pauses to ask what products Gareth even uses–"dude your volume is amazing."– and because sue him, great hair solidarity is a thing, so he admits that he'd literally been dying to ask Steve the same thing.

Great haircare knowledge aside, Steve is fucking amazing.

He shows up exactly on time. 7:00pm on the dot. The TV is on and Eddie is slouched against one out of the two living room couches, lounging in a black tee and donald duck boxers because he's off the clock and too unbothered to try for a social life beyond the band, occassional bar visits and D&D sessions- the loser. When the doorbell rings he looks up at Gareth, seems almost surprised to find him still there– which fair, Gareth usually leaves early for these things.

"We expecting someone?" He asks, scratches at the corner of his pierced eyebrow and takes a second to stare at himself. Gareth can see the moment he decides whoever they know well enough for an impromptu visit isn't worth putting on pants for.

"Yes actually."

He doesn't elaborate and Eddie doesn't care enough to ask further. It's perfect, means the surprise will be that much sweeter.

Steve is smiling sweetly when the door opens. His hair looks amazing as always and he's holding a bright bag with a sunflower printed to the front. Gareth's not sure whats in it, but the mischief in Steve's voice when he says "even brought my activity bag, coloring books n all" verifies that yes, he'd definitely hired the right person.

Eddie still isn't looking up from the screen when they walk back into the living room. In fact he's started picking at his premolars for whatever piece of dinner is likely stuck there. It's such a lame sight in combination with his outfit and lazy posture that beside him, Steve snorts.

The sound is what finally pulls Eddie's attention towards them, and oh the sweet satisfaction of seeing his roommate absolutely freeze, pinky against teeth and everything. Gareth struggles to keep a straight face as he watches those large eyes shift to Steve– who despite his simple sweater/jeans combo is definitely still attractive enough to warrant a pants-on version of Eddie. He can see the panic slowly wash over his friends face, swallows back a laugh when Eddie jolts to an upright seating position, hand flying from his mouth and hovering awkwardly in the air before settling on his lap.

"Huh." He says dumbly, and even though he doesn't say more, the look on his face thoroughly communicates: 'who the hell is this?'

Gareth doesn't stop his grin this time because he's been waiting for this exact moment for days.

"Eddie, meet Steve."

He knows he must look victorious as fuck right now, if the rising concern on Eddie's face is any indication.

"He'll be your babysitter for tonight."

Beside him Steve does a small little finger wave, bends forward to level with Eddie's stare, a hand on his thigh and voice the high, perky tone only used with children and cute animals

"Hi Eddie~"

And oh god. Gareth loves this guy.

[missmagillicuddy]

"Look, Steve, I don't have any bad feelings towards you," Eddie says, has been saying, talking nonsense, like he and Steve weren't anything more than fuckbuddies, like he isn't breaking Steve's heart. "I used you too, y'know?"

It's then Steve rears back like he been slapped. Or punched. It feels more like a gutting. Joke's on him, he supposes. Once again, he wants more than the other person. He wanted a boyfriend, Eddie'd wanted sex. Why does he keep trying? When Steve finds his voice to speak, it comes out flat and dead and not really like a question at all. "Used me. Like you think I've used you?"

Eddie shrugs, looking for all the world like he's not bothered by that statement. "We had fun, right? So it's all fine in the end."

"Fine," Steve repeats, hollow. They're in his house but Steve feels the need to leave, to run before the reality of how unlovable he truly is sticks inside him forever.

"But I think we should stop while we're ahead," Eddie continues and Steve wonders if Eddie is listening to him at all, or just saying his piece before he goes. Can he not hear Steve's heart breaking? "I want to... I want to find someone to love."

If Eddie's previous words felt like being gutted, these ones feel like cement. Heavy and solidifying. Trapping in the truth of Ever Unlovable Steve. He doesn't even feel heartbroken anymore. Just numb. Dead inside. He should say something encouraging. Let Eddie know that all he's wanted was for Eddie to be happy and loved. But words seem impossible, so he gives one jerky nod of his head. An understanding.

"Right," Eddie says, returning the nod before turning away, towards the door, "I'll just go now. Umm, see ya later, Harrington."

Facing the horrors of the Upside Down should feel like the scariest thing he's ever done but it doesn't. Watching Eddie walk away does. Steve should be able to hold it together long enough for Eddie to leave. He's the tough one. He can hold himself together no problem-

"Why can't you love me?"

Eddie whips back around, an expression on his face like confusion and anger mixed.

It's only then that Steve realizes he spoke. He hasn't meant to. He was going to let Eddie walk away but now his voice has been freed from the cement. His heart has shut down his brain it seems because he just keeps talking, voice flat and hollow, "why can't you love me the way I love you? What is so broken and wrong within me that no one loves me back? My parents, Nancy, now you. Why can't- I thought that we were- where did I go wrong?"

"What?" Eddie asks, and the anger is gone from his face but now he just looks horrified. Which is understandable. It's horrifying to be loved by Steve Harrington. "What did you think we were?"

Boyfriends. Together. Going steady. At the very least, dating without labels. But none of those very reasonable, normal answers come out of Steve's treacherous mouth. Because Steve can't seem to be a reasonable, normal person. He's got to be too much, too soon, too clingy. So, instead, he says, "In love."

Eddie looks like he's just received the worst news of his life. In fact, he looks a little sick. "Oh fuck. Jesus Christ. I can't- I thought- Fuck!"

Steve just nods along. He hadn't actually said I love you to Nancy that night at Tina's Halloween party, but he imagines if he had, the beginning of the bullshit conversation would have sounded much the same as Eddie does now; like anger and regret, the starts and stops. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- if you want to go, you should go."

Eddie crosses the room back to Steve in half the steps he took when he first walked away, hands reaching to grab Steve's face between them. He speaks quickly and sounds panicked now. "No, no no no. I fucked up, misunderstood. I don't know how I got it so wrong. I don't want to go. I never did."

"What?"

"I am in love with you, sweetheart. I just- I didn't know you loved me back. I thought you didn't- that we weren't..."

"I thought we were boyfriends."

"Jesus, please let me fix this. Let me stay and make it up to you. I'll be the best fucking boyfriend you've ever had."

Steve thinks if he had any shred of self-worth he might step back, make Eddie explain himself, but as it is, he steps into Eddie's space and kisses him, hands pulling him as close as he can get. He doesn't want to think about the cruel things Eddie's said, about using each other. Maybe one day they'll have to hash that out, have that conversation, but Eddie says he loves him too, and that's all Steve's wanted.

[missmagillicuddy]

Strangers Kiss cam Steddie where Chrissy dragged Eddie to a game and Steve dragged Robin and the kiss cam lands on Steve and Robin so Steve panics and basically propositions the guy (Eddie) sat next to him while Robin holds up a premade sign saying "we're gay."

Eddie's practically in his lap by the time the camera moves the fuck on, and is still kissing Steve when the camera checks back in on them at the end

[missmagillicuddy]

Please someone write a full version of this lol

Strangers Kiss cam Steddie where Chrissy dragged Eddie to a game and Steve dragged Robin and the kiss cam lands on Steve and Robin so Steve panics and basically propositions the guy (Eddie) sat next to him while Robin holds up a premade sign saying "we're gay."

Eddie's practically in his lap by the time the camera moves the fuck on, and is still kissing Steve when the camera checks back in on them at the end

[missmagillicuddy]

With a Capital P

Saw this post about Stobin having no boundaries, by @grimmfitzz and oops, my hand slipped.

By all rights, there should be some awkwardness. A little lingering strangeness, an adjustment period, if you will. After all, only a few days ago, he fully thought he had feelings for Robin. Well, obviously he does have feelings for her...but he'd thought they were entirely different than the ones he has.

He's maybe a little more concussed than he'd convinced the paramedics he was. To be fair, they had a lot going on.

The point is, he feels like there should be more weirdness. A time period in which he awkwardly shuffles Robin from a box marked 'possible girlfriend?' to the one marked just 'friend'--the one Tommy and Carol used to occupy before things went so sideways (though he's still too afraid to really examine the spaces those two left, too afraid it'll just confirm that he wasted so much time with people who were never his friends at all). Maybe even slot her into the box he's slowly constructing for the kids...something not quite labeled 'friend' and not quite labeled 'family' and quickly coming to take up the biggest chunk of his battered, lonely heart (oh, wow, yeah...definitely more concussed than he let on).

Turns out, though, that being drugged and tortured together, and then launching an assault on a gigantic flesh beast from another dimension with nothing but fireworks and nerve lets you skip over a lot of the beginning phases of a relationship (romantic or otherwise). Also turns out there's a secret, fourth box he didn't even know about. One that's just marked 'Robin' that he has apparently been just waiting for her to come along and fill.

Robin ends up spending most of the rest of the summer at Steve's house, more often than not. He doesn't know what she tells her parents. Doesn't particularly care. He's always had a weird relationship with parental care and authority, so he's not sure he's really in a position to have an opinion about if Robin is lying to her parents about where she is, or if they don't care that she's hanging out at his place so much.

They spend days abusing the central air, or watching movies they swipe from Family Video, or eating snacks out by the pool (he tells her she's welcome to swim, she notes that he never gets in the water himself and doesn't ask questions...but also doesn't move from his side). At first, he makes up a guest room for her when she spends the night, but after the fourth or fifth time one (or both) of them wake up screaming (goddamn, goddamn, goddamn it, he'd just gotten a handle on the nightmares about impossible creatures bursting from the wall, now he gets new material to deal with?) Robin just groans and collapses onto Steve's bed, burrowing under his blankets with him.

"Your room is hideous," she grumbles, grabbing one of his hands and bringing their joined fingers to rest in the small space between their bodies.

"I know," he shrugs. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. He listens to her breaths in the dark, feels the warmth radiating off of her. It's comforting. Grounding. He's not alone. Whatever terrors the night brings for them, they'll face it together.

He wakes up hours later, sunlight streaming into his room and the beautiful girl he'd thought he was falling for snuggled right up against his side, the two of them having moved in the night. It should be the stuff of adolescent fantasies but all he feels is a distant sort of confusion that they actually slept so long. Robin's face is smashed into his shoulder and he realizes he's been drooling into her hair, and the first thing she does when she wakes up is shriek about it.

"Ewww, gross! Seriously?!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Spit, Steve! My hair is covered in your spit!"

"Well I'm pretty sure this giant booger on my shirt isn't mine, Buckley!"

"Are you accusing me of--oh, wow that is big." Robin starts rubbing at her nose as she stalks into the bathroom and the shower starts running a moment later. He opens the door long enough to toss a clean towel onto the sink and then wanders down to the kitchen to start coffee.

She makes fun of his bedhead when she comes down the stairs, he goggles at the amount of milk and sugar she puts in her coffee. And he never makes up the guest room for her again.

*

"I am telling you, Johnson is trying to kill us with his exams! It's barely October and we've already had three!" Robin stabs angrily at the chicken cutlets in the pan with her fork, holding one up so Steve can see how brown it is on one side. At his nod, she starts flipping them over. She ducks her head without looking when he reaches over her to snag the basil out of the spice cabinet, still stirring the tomato sauce with his free hand.

"Yeah, Johnson's a dick. Glad I'm done with his class for good." He dips the spoon out of the sauce and blows on it for a moment before tasting, then holds the spoon out for Robin to lick the rest of it off.

"Mmm, more red pepper. And I know! You're so lucky. How did you even pass? Cheryl Mackey was crying in the band room after she got her test back, and she's like, straight a student all the way." Robin finishes flipping the chicken and goes back to chopping carrots for their salad.

"Oh, Robert O'Connell--the guy that works down at the Snack n' Go?--he saved all his tests from when he had Johnson a few years ago. Johnson never writes new ones. You give Robert 20 bucks, you can get any of the answer keys."

Robin sets the knife down and reaches into Steve's back pocket, pulling his wallet out. "Couldn't have told me this earlier?" she grouses, yanking two tens out and shoving the wallet back in his pocket.

"Hey, that's my gas money for the week!" He grabs the pot with the noodles off the stove and takes it to the colander waiting in the sink, sticking his ass out expectantly.

"You look like a hooker trying to pick up johns."

"Well give me at least half my gas money back so I don't have to sell my body to drive you and Henderson to school this week."

"Ugh, fine." She grabs his wallet again and stuffs one of the tens back into it. Then winds up one of his dish towels and smacks his rear end hard enough that he jumps about a foot in the air.

He dumps the drained noodles back into the pot and turns around to bring it back to the stove only to find that Robin is right behind him with the pot of sauce, apparently having been bringing it over to the sink. They collide, hard, and Robin screams bloody murder as hot spaghetti sauce gets dumped all down her front.

"Hot, hot, hot, fuck, hot!"

"Shit, hold on!" He all but tosses the pot of noodles back into the sink and snatches the sauce pot out of her hands. As soon as he does she's whipping off her shirt and grabbing the dish towel she hit him with, wiping off the smears of sauce that got onto her arms. "Did it burn you?" he asks, searching her torso for blisters, even though he knows at the back of his mind that the sauce was only on a simmer.

"No...no, I think I'm good. Damn, I liked that shirt, though." She straightens, glaring down at the sauce pot he slammed onto the counter.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He holds his tongue for approximately zero point three seconds.

"Okay, then can we talk about this whole situation, cause I feel like I just got a major piece of the puzzle of why you don't have a girlfriend, yet. What the hell are you wearing?"

Robin's bra is so faded it's unclear what color it was originally, two large tears right above the elastic band.

Robin looks almost comically offended. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, are you commenting on my very comfortable and perfectly functional underwear?"

"Functional, yeah, if the function is 'never get laid ever'."

Robin crosses over to the doorway that leads to the laundry room. "We can't all exclusively wear Calvin Klein, Harrington!"

"How do you know what underwear I wear?"

"Am I wrong? Also, Jesus Christ do you own any normal shirts?"

"What's wrong with my shirts now? Hey, I'm not taking fashion advice from a girl in a, a grandma bra!"

"Hey!" She steps back out of the laundry room, wearing one of his old basketball team shirts.

They keep bickering back and forth as Steve tries to salvage dinner, eventually ending up just sitting on his kitchen counter dipping pieces of breaded chicken into the remains of the pasta sauce in the pot, having decided they really didn't want to eat spaghetti that had to be fished out of the sink.

"I'm not buying a bunch of frilly, sparkly lace just to wear under my clothes," Robin informs him. "That shit itches."

"Not saying you have to, but at least get something that doesn't look like it came out of the bottom of my gym bag."

"Eww, don't talk about your gym bag while I'm eating!"

*

It is a slow day in Family Video, and Robin has been casting him strangely intense looks since she came on shift. He restocks the shelves, picks through the candy to take home the almost expired shit to give to the kids, and is halfway through the rewinding before it finally gets to him.

"What?!" he demands. Robin blinks at him, immediately shrugging. A little too fast, actually.

"What, what?" she asks. He narrows his eyes at her and she ducks her head, pretending to find her biology textbook extremely interesting. He knows she's pretending because she hates biology. They're making her dissect a frog this quarter. After a few seconds, she slams the book shut and straightens up, determined look settling on her face.

Steve has just enough time to get a little nervous before she says, "How do you do the tongue thing?"

He blinks at her. "Uh...can you be more specific?"

She rolls her eyes. "You know...the thing! The thing with your tongue."

"I promise you, I do not know. What're you talking about?"

She looks around the store, as if some customers that they somehow haven't noticed in the last three hours might suddenly appear. Then she lowers her voice. "Like, sex things. With your tongue." She huffs a frustrated sigh. "They had to combine gym periods today 'cause Mrs. Hornby had to sub for Janson's history class, and Maryanne Greene was talking about how her boyfriend wouldn't go down on her and then Sue Rennet--you remember Sue? Apparently you dated her for, like, two weeks at the end of her Sophomore year--started talking about you and how you used to do that to her and it's the best sex she's ever had."

And oh...okay, he remembers Sue. Nice girl, a little ditzy, but she hadn't wanted to get more serious, and then Nancy had caught his eye. He can't help but puff up a little. Sure, Hawkins isn't exactly a big city overrun with choices, and judging by the talk he remembers from his own locker room days, he's a little bit of an outlier as far as being concerned with making sure his partners are having as good a time as he is...but to be called the best someone has ever had is nice.

"Don't let it go to your head," Robin says, because she can read his mind quite a lot of the time. "Just...tongue thing. You know, in case I ever do get a shot with, literally anyone."

He softens at that, reaches across the counter to ruffle her hair because it annoys her as much as it annoys him when someone does that. "You will," he says softly, and thinks that he would give almost anything, would probably happily trade any shot at happiness for himself if he could make sure Robin had someone to love her the way she deserves to be loved. He grabs one of her school notebooks and tears a sheet out, grabbing a pen out of the cup beside the computer.

"Okay, so, first things first, you can't just dive right in--gotta get the motor warmed up a little first--"

"Please don't talk in car analogies the whole time," Robin says, leaning in as he draws a crude (heh, see what he did there?) sketch of what he's going to be talking about.

"Noted. So what you're gonna do is start with a little massage around this area," he points with the end of the pen, "really take your time, get things nice and slick..."

He talks, Robin listening intently and occasionally asking questions.

"No you don't--flutter your tongue, flutter it. Here, like this..."

"Okay, vibration is good, but you're not, like, trying to blow a raspberry on her clit--"

"I said flutter!"

And that is how Lucas and Dustin find them about forty minutes later: Steve with his mouth held open wide, demonstrating what he means by fluttering his tongue while Robin stares at it like it holds the secrets of the universe, pen in hand as she takes furious notes.

In retrospect, he supposes he should be grateful that Lucas didn't immediately join Dustin on the 'Steve and Robin are totally dating' train.

*

"Shit! Steve! Wake up, it's Wednesday!"

Steve's eyes shoot open and he's vertical before he's fully awake, reaching for the nailbat propped up by his bedside table, but it's not there. It's...his bedside table isn't there either.

What the fuck, where's his bed?

"Steve!" Robin shouts, and he blinks rapidly, his surroundings resolving themselves into his...living room?

"What...Rob, what the hell? You're on winter break! You don't have school today?"

Ugh, why does his mouth taste like something died? He looks around the room, at the piles of dusty boxes that look like they came from...

Oh.

Oh yeah.

He and Robin had spent yesterday dragging the Harrington family Christmas decorations down from the attic because Robin said his house looked like a sad capitalism museum and she refused to spend the holidays in a place that didn't have a single Christmas light up. And then they'd found Steve's grandmother's recipe for homemade eggnog. And he'd maybe experimented a little bit with the liquor ratios...they must have fallen asleep on the couch.

"We don't have school but we both promised Keith we'd open all this week!" Robin shouts.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

They're still dressed in their clothes from yesterday. And they smell like a goddamn distillery. Without thinking about it, he grabs her hand and starts hauling her upstairs. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Fuck, shit, fuck!" she agrees as they rocket into the bathroom. Steve starts the water while Robin yanks clean towels out of the linen closet. "Do you have pants I can wear?" she asks, tossing the towels onto the sink and stripping out of her shirt.

"Yeah, I've got those jeans from, like, three years ago. Those fit you pretty well, right?" He tosses his own jeans and boxers towards the laundry hamper, followed by his shirt, and jumps into the shower, adjusting the temperature hotter than he likes it, because Robin's a weirdo who likes to boil herself in the mornings.

"Good enough!" Robin leaps in after him and they squeeze under the spray just long enough to get hair and body wet before separating somewhat so Robin can start scrubbing herself and he can get started on his hair. "Why didn't you set an alarm?"

"Me? Why didn't you set an alarm? You're the one who wanted to take the shifts!"

"Like you're gonna turn down holiday pay."

"It's Keith! Holiday pay probably means a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World up the highway!" He sticks his head under the water again to rinse his hair out and they switch places.

"Are you saying you wouldn't take a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World?"

"I mean...no?"

They switch places again so that Steve can rinse the soap off his body and then it's a race to get dried off, teeth brushed, dressed, and out to the car so they can get to the store in time. It's only as they are piling out of the BMW in front of Family Video that it seems to occur to them both at the same time what they just did. They both pause, mid-step and turn to each other wide-eyed.

"Huh," Steve says quietly.

"Yeah," Robin answers.

Then they shrug and continue towards the store entrance, making it in with exactly three and a half minutes to spare.

*

"Steve I really think if you're worried about this, you should be talking to a doctor, not me," Robin says, peering at a medical journal she checked out from the library spread out over her lap. "Has it changed color or shape recently?"

"I don't know, maybe? I've got so many moles, it's hard to keep track."

"Any pain or tenderness?" She reaches out and taps his hip so that he turns a little more towards the light cast by her desk lamp.

"No, definitely not. I was just having, you know, private time in the shower and it looked weird to me when I looked down."

Robin hums thoughtfully and pokes at the weird-looking mole on Steve's groin. "I mean, it doesn't look like any of these pictures of bad moles, but if you think it looks different to how it used to, you should probably get it check out regardless."

"Damn it, I was afraid you'd say that," he sighs. She shuts the medical journal and props her chin on one hand as he pulls his pants back up.

"Should I call and make the appointment?"

He huffs and flops back down onto her bed. "Yes please," he grumbles. He never remembers to write down all the appointment details.

"You want me to book something over spring break so I can go with you?"

"Nah, just whatever's available soonest. I'd rather not sit around and stress about it."

It turns out to be nothing to worry about. But three weeks later, Dustin and Max come bursting into Family Video while he and Robin are watching a new report about a brutal murder, and Steve is wishing all he had to stress about was a maybe-weird mole on his dick.

*

It's not like no one was aware that Steve and Robin were...perhaps unusually close friends. It was just never much of an issue (except to Dustin, who was obsessed with the idea of the two of them getting together) before the events of the spring of '86 and after...

Well.

Who cared how weirdly codependent Steve and Robin were when Max and Eddie had nearly died and the Upside Down was bursting up into the real Hawkins? Honestly, if that was the weirdest thing about them after all they've been through, he'd count that pretty lucky.

After everything, though--after they put Vecna/Henry Creel/One/Whatever in the fucking ground, after they do what Steve was beginning to think was impossible and seal the Upside Down away from them forever, after Max is as recovered as she's ever going to be (she's probably never going to be able to get a driver's license even with glasses, and her doctors tell them the leg braces and crutches might have to be permanent, but she's alive...she's alive, she's alive, she's alive), after Robin finally feels safe enough to come out to the group at large, after Steve spends an entire week holed up in his room screaming into his pillow while Robin patted his back consolingly before marching down to Eddie's new (government-funded) trailer and announcing that it turns out he likes both and would Eddie please go on a date with him...

He thinks maybe Eddie didn't quite understand what he was getting into when he agreed almost before Steve was done asking him out.

"Uh...hey guys," Eddie says slowly, taking in the picture he and Robin present in Steve's kitchen. There's a bag of cucumbers, a few eggplants, and several bananas spread out on the island in front of them. Robin has a tape measure and a homemade pamphlet acquired from a very exclusive shop they traveled to Indianapolis to visit last weekend. Steve is holding up two of the cucumbers for comparison. "What's, uh, what's going on here?"

Steve and Robin exchange a look. Then Steve jumps up and snatches the tape measure out of her hands. "Perfect! Here, Eds, lemme measure you." He reaches for Eddie's belt, only to freeze with a look of annoyance when his boyfriend jumps back with a yelp.

"Whoa! Whoa, hey, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about and also Robbie's right there!"

"What? Oh it's fine, Rob and I have seen each other naked plenty of times."

"Ask me about the time we accidentally showered together," Robin pipes up with a grin.

"Wait, no...wait, what? How do you accidentally shower together?" Eddie asks incredulously. Then he shakes his head. "Wait, no! No, not important. Robin has never seen me naked, and I am not whipping my dick out in front of your best friend so you can measure it! And why do you want to measure it?"

"Well I was trying to just guesstimate how big you are," Steve says, gesturing to the array of produce on the island, "but it'll be easier if I can just get the numbers from the source."

"Why do you need exact measurements of my dick?!" Eddie's eyes have gone wide as dinner plates, his voice reaching an octave usually reserved for his female NPC's in his nerd game. Steve huffs.

"Babe, you said you want to fuck me, but like, all these guides say we should work up to it." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder at the pamphlet that Robin is now helpfully holding up. "So I'm gonna figure out exactly how big you are, and then Rob and I are gonna go up to this shop we found in Indy and get some of these toys. It's supposed to help me get used to things being, you know, up there."

Robin nods seriously.

Eddie looks at him. Looks at Robin. Looks back at him.

Steve has never seen someone look touched and horrified at the same time. Eddie rakes a hand back through his hair and sighs.

"What...what measurements do you need, exactly?"

[missmagillicuddy]

Listen, it’s been a hard few days.

From the day Eddie— his new friend— got pulled into this shit show called The Upside Down, to when he literally had to watch Max float into the air as the evil wizard from the other dimension tried to kill her from the inside. To today, in which Eddie’s in the hospital— after Steve miraculously carried him on his back to the hospital— and where Max is also in— broken and in a coma, but alive.

It’s natural to feel confused from fatigue and emotional distress. But this? Dustin doesn’t even know what to do with it.

It’s been a long morning. After a lot of suffocating, but well deserved, smothering from his mother, he then got another suffocating but again, well deserved smothering from Steve when he finally picked him up.

Steve looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair is… a mess. It’s flat and not styled. It looks like he didn’t even go home? Did he stay by Eddie’s side the whole night? For someone who hates someone, that’s a lot of effort. Dustin opens his mouth to ask or investigate, but they arrive at the hospital in a record time. Steve probably ignored every street sign.

What Dustin doesn’t understand is why Eddie’s room is jam packed so early in the morning? In the room, there’s Erica, Lucas, Mike, Robin, Nancy and Wayne, Eddie’s Uncle. And now there’s him and Steve.

“Why are you all in here?!” Dustin asks the room. There’s too many people in the small hospital bedroom.

“The doctors said he’s waking up anytime soon.” Nancy informs him, not taking her eyes off Eddie.

“And you’re all here to just watch him?” Dustin pushes in distress, “You guys, we might overwhelm him when he wakes up. We should do it one at a time.”

“I am not leaving.” Erica voices out at the corner of the room.

“Guys.” Dustin says, his voice wavering with anxiety and worry. He meets Mr. Munson’s eyes, who softens at the expression on his face.

“It’s okay, kid.” Wayne rasps, “Eddie would love to wake up with everyone just watching him. Ya know how dramatic he is.”

This earns a few snickers and chuckles from them. Dustin looks around to see if Steve stayed, only to see him exiting the room with Robin. Robin’s softly rubbing his hand with her hands, like she’s comforting him. There’s a look on Steve’s face. It’s— concern? worry? But they’re already gone before Dustin can study it further.

After all of this, Dustin will put it on top priority to get those two together. Why they won’t just date, he never understood.

Eddie groans and silence overtakes the whole room. Dustin stares at him, quietly praying for his friend to finally wake up, for him to be okay. He just wants Eddie to be okay, he never intended for him to get dragged into this.

Eddie moans as he slowly moves, his eyes fluttering open and squinting at the bright light. Dustin can hear everybody holding their breath.

Eddie turns to Wayne. Stares at his Uncle for a second before he smiles. Suddenly, Dustin can finally breathe again. He watches as Eddie looks at every person in the room. Smiling and waving a small wave to everyone.

But his smile drops. Oh no.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asks, as he moves closer to Eddie. The fear is already cruising through his veins.

Eddie turns to Nancy in alarm, “Steve?”

Nancy blinks back, confused, “What?”

He ignores the question. Turning to Wayne instead, “Wayne?”

Wayne nods, leaving a kiss on his head, “Calm down, boy. Give me a second.”

Wayne stands up and jogs out of the room.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Nancy asks, as Mike comes closer too. Dustin doesn’t know how to help but Eddie’s hand is shaking.

“We should call a doctor.” Lucas announces.

“No!” Eddie immediately answers, “No! I just want—“

The door springs open. It thuds against the wall with force. Steve moves closer to the bed, breathless as Robin and Wayne follow him in the room.

All the tension— They just— They just vanish from Eddie. He visibly melts into relief. His shoulders sagging in content, and he has this smile on his face. It’s… It’s a smile Dustin has never seen on his face. It’s small, but bright and full of adoration.

Eddie whispers something. Which Dustin thinks he hallucinates, or maybe he heard it wrong. But he turns to the others, and from the look on their faces he might’ve actually heard it right.

Eddie lifts his hand, beckoning Steve closer, and then he says it again, clearly and louder.

“Sweetheart.”

Steve blinks and in a surprising turn of events, he— he starts crying. Steve Harrington starts crying. Dustin didn't even see him cry after he was tortured by the Russians.

“You fucking idiot!” Steve glares at Eddie, “I told you not to be a hero! I told you not to be cute! I asked you for one thing! And you did it anyway! What if I didn’t get back in time? What if I wasn’t able to bring you to the hospital? You could’ve died! You almost died!”

Dustin gasps in anger. How could he do this? Eddie saved him! “Steve! Shut up!”

“No!” Steve turns to him. There’s tears streaming down his face. “This is between me and him.”

“Sweetheart.” Eddie calls out again, and his hand is still in the air waiting for— whatever he’s waiting for.

“I’m so sorry about him, Mr. Munson.” Dustin turns to Wayne, who shrugs at him. He looks entertained. Which is weird.

Steve sniffles, shaking his head, “No. Don’t sweetheart me, Edward fucking Munson.”

Eddie groans, “I did what I had to do.”

They stare at each other for a few more minutes as the room fills with uncomfortable silence.

“I am sorry.” Eddie finally whispers and Dustin wants to interrupt. He doesn’t have to apologize about anything. He did what he had to do.

Steve sniffles, “Good.”

Eddie does something he has never done in the entire time Dustin knows him.

Eddie (Edward apparently) Munson pouts.

“Now?” Eddie lifts up his hand again.

“Okay.” Steve whispers before…

Before intertwining their hands together. Steve sits on Eddie’s bedside, sweeping Eddie’s hair off his face. They’re acting like they’re the only people in this room. Maybe they think they are.

“I am glad you're okay, sweetheart.” Eddie says, a smile dancing on his face.

“Me? Of course, I am okay.” Steve replies. There’s a softness to his voice that Dustin’s never heard before. “Do you want me to call you a doctor, baby? Are you okay?”

“No, I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Just needed to know.” Eddie stares up at him, it comes out loopy but there’s a real spark of joy in his eyes.

Woah, alright. Steve moves closer and kisses Eddie— On the lips. Oh my god? Is Dustin dreaming? Is Vecna still alive and showing this to him?

“What the hell is happening?!” Mike demands, breaking the glass of peace they have, and making Steve pull away from Eddie immediately.

“Oh.” Steve breathes out. Like he’s just realizing that they were there. Dustin frowns as he sees Steve’s face contour from fear to sadness. Fear for what?

“Uh.” Steve stammers, looking back at Eddie who looks like he’s about to bite Mike on the arm.

“Steve and I are dating. Since the starcourt mall burned down.” Eddie finally explains, and Wayne immediately moves closer to them like— like he’s trying to protect Steve and Eddie. From what? From them? Instinctively, Robin moves to follow Wayne.

“Oh.” Someone says, maybe it was Nancy or maybe Mike.

Dustin blinks. He tries his best to absorb the news, but he can’t think straight with that devastated look on Steve’s face or that defensive look on Eddie’s. What’s wrong with them dating? Well, Dustin takes offense over the fact that Steve didn’t tell him but there’s nothing really wrong. Two boys—

Oh. Oh.

“Alright.” Dustin finally says, making everyone turn to him. He tries to make it sound as casual as possible, “Listen, congratulations. But I am angry that you both hid this from me.”

Lucas is nodding his head beside Dustin, “Dude. Really? Our dungeon master? Come on now, Steve. You could do better.” He teases, making Steve finally cough a tiny laugh.

Mike scoffs, “If there’s anyone that could do better, it would be Eddie. Really, Eddie? Steve? I can’t believe you fell for the Harrington Charm.”

Eddie sputters a response, but he’s too busy blushing to say anything.

“Instead of ice cream, I want insider information for the next campaign.” The room erupts into noises as Mike argues that Erica can’t do that, Eddie relaxes and says no one can have insider information. In the corner, Dustin sees Nancy hug Steve and say something into his ear.

Dustin lets his eyes wander and he meets Eddie’s eyes. Eddie smiles at him, nodding. It’s his way of thanking him.

They’ll talk later, and Eddie will get his own lecture from Dustin. Maybe a shovel talk for each of them. Not that they really need it, Steve looks at Eddie like he’s the creator of the universe and Eddie looks at Steve like he holds all the answers of the world. Perfect.

But he lets it be for now. Again, it’s been a hard few days. There’s nothing wrong with letting himself bask in this sliver of happiness and safety.