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steve always brings a backpack to the hideout to hold eddie's things and a comfy set of clothes for him to change into after their shows, and one night after a gig eddie goes to get something out of it, but steve is capital D Drunk so when he sees eddie going through it he starts smacking his shoulder yelling "THATS MY PURSE I DONT KNOW YOU"
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Sad Steddie Scenario Part 5
Okay I said I needed to just post what I had mostly written instead of everything I wanted have in this chapter, so! Here we are! Hopefully it won't be a year until the next part, yikes.
Previously on SSS: Steve spends a week mourning his relationship while his parents are home and being assholes. Dustin shows up to yell at/comfort him.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
“I’ve got to drive the kids home.”
Eddie watches as Steve’s car pulls away, barely pausing at the stop sign before disappearing around the corner. He stares at the now-empty road until a squawk from the tree overhead startles him into action.
He can’t—he can’t think about what he did right now. He needs to grab his things and get out of here before he loses it. What the fuck just happened? What did he do? God, Steve’s face. No, no, he’s not thinking about it. He’s going back inside to get his shit, and then he’s leaving.
He slams open the door to Gareth’s basement and thunders down the steps. The guys have already settled back in, lounging around, shooting the shit, clearly in no mood to break the party up even though the session is over. They barely glance up when he enters, but Jeff instantly does a double take.
“Whoa, hey, man. You don’t look so good.” That gets all of their eyes on him.
“I broke up with Steve.” He doesn’t mean to say it, but the words are out there now, and it’s real. It’s real and he can’t take it back.
Around him, the guys are clamoring, a loud cacophony that essentially amounts to, “What?!”
“I broke up with him,” he says again, almost disbelieving. His mind is already racing. He can take this back. He can fix this. He just needs to drive to Steve’s house and tell him that he didn’t mean it. That he was body snatched or possessed or Vecna’d.
Okay, maybe not that last one. But, god --
Gareth crows with laughter, breaking through the spiral of Eddie’s thoughts. “Seriously? Good for you dude. We’ve been waiting. And thank god. He was such a square.”
Jeff rolls his eyes at Gareth. “Does it make you a square if you call someone a square?”
“Shut up, man.” Gareth shoves at him and Jeff shoves back.
Grant nudges Eddie from where he sits on the floor next to him, waits for Eddie to look down at him before asking softly, “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I��I don’t know. Did I fuck up?” His voice sounds funny, far off. His eyes refuse to focus. Jeff and Gareth immediately stop their tussling. Gareth leans up from where Jeff has him pinned to the floor, eyes blazing.
“No. This is a good thing. He was a douchebag.”
“You guys were around him for one night,” Eddie argues.
Jeff pushes up from the floor and stands in front of Eddie, serious in a way he rarely is. “Yeah, but Eddie, you’ve been fucked up for months. I know we don’t know what you went through, and I’m not asking you to tell us, but it’s sucked watching you be a freaking zombie.”
“We didn’t even really get to watch you for most of it,” Grant breaks in. “It was like Harrington had you on house arrest. Half the times we tried to visit you and he was there, he refused to let us near you. Every other time, he kicked us out after like five minutes. We had no idea what was going on, we couldn’t talk to you.”
“He was just being protective,” Eddie protests, but it’s weak. Steve had been pretty militant about visitors during the early days after spring break. But Eddie hadn’t minded. For most of his recovery, he hadn’t wanted to see anyone. He’d never explicitly told Steve to keep people away, though. He’d somehow just known. Eddie can only imagine to his friends, though, it looked like they were being deliberately, even maliciously kept away by a known asshole who probably wouldn’t know Eddie from Adam.
Jeff nods at Grant’s words. “We’re your best friends, man. We were terrified over spring break. Then suddenly you’ve got this guy who you couldn’t stand playing guard dog over you, and we’re just supposed to accept that?”
“Now that you’ve been out of your cage for a little while,” Gareth breaks in, “and we get to hang out with both of you for real, he acts like he’d rather be anywhere else. Doesn’t know our names, doesn’t talk with us, can’t even be fucked to remember shit that’s important to you. So, yeah. I think this break up is a good thing.”
Ten minutes ago, so had Eddie. But now all he can see is the devastation on Steve’s face.
“You guys mind if I skip the cleanup? I can get most of the stuff later.”
“Yeah, mean, get out of here. We’ll see you next week.”
“Or before then, if you want to hang out,” Jeff says. “Now that we’ll actually be able to see you.”
Eddie scoops up the papers with his DM notes on them, but leaves his screen, dice, and books to grab later, and trudges to his car.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next week is a blur. Eddie barely leaves his room, barely leaves his bed. He hears most of the kids talking to Wayne at various points, but Wayne, like the saint he is, turns them away, leaves Eddie to rot in peace.
He misses Steve. It’s honestly stupid for him to stay in his room the way he does, because Steve is in every corner of it. He’s left so much shit there (including but not limited to: a Hawkins High baseball raglan, a Springsteen cassette, at least two pairs of boxers, and memories, memories fucking everywhere). Eddie can still smell him on his sheets. In his weaker, weirder moments, he finds himself trying to hotbox Steve’s scent, comforter pulled over his head as he buries his nose in his what’s now Steve’s pillow and sniffs hard enough to cause a headache.
Eddie almost drove to Steve’s house after leaving Gareth’s that awful day. Made it three blocks away before he turned around and went home. His brain had been a mess, unable to decide what to do or how he felt, and it still is days later. He goes over everything obsessively - the epic failure of their date, the argument in the car after, the two days he spent ruminating on their fate, and then the break up itself and Steve’s reaction to it.
Eddie’d felt so solid in his decision the minute Steve had opened his mouth at Gareth’s. But as soon as he said it, all his reasons seemed flimsy. Who cares that they had one bad date, that Steve had been at less than his best one time in front of Eddie’s friends, that he’d run the second Eddie had tried to talk about it? Eddie could have tried again, gone over to his house the next day or called him up, talked about it when their heads were cooler. And who cares that they don’t have anything in common? Steve still acts interested in whatever Eddie wants to tell him most of the time. Asks questions, smiles at him so, so sweetly and tells him to keep talking every time Eddie laments that he's boring Steve.
But there’s just been an itch at the back of Eddie’s mind since he got out of the hospital. A shadow at the corner of his eye that disappears when he turns to look at it fully. It tugs at him at odd moments, when things seem to be going fine, good, even, but there’s something off. He can’t see a pattern, but he knows he feels it more when Steve’s around. And every time his friends or Wayne push back against Steve, every time something Steve says hits a sour note, the shadow grows bigger and more menacing.
He’d felt the shadow swell at The Hideout as he waited in the parking lot, watching the minutes tick by. He tried to shake it when Steve showed up, tried to ignore it pulling more insistently as he clocked Steve’s attire, his inattention, his apathy, and his anger. But it grew and grew until it was almost suffocating, until he saw him at Gareth’s and it exploded in words he couldn’t…didn’t want to?…take back.
Now here he is. Midway through a D&D session with his three closest friends and three kids who clearly know something’s up with the way they’ve been trying him since the session started. Lucas and Mike are just being annoying, having side conversations, making Eddie repeat himself when they don’t pay attention to the narration, but Dustin’s actively hostile, antagonizing Eddie’s NPCs at every turn, tossing out snide remarks at the other players unprovoked, even the way he rolls his dice is disrespectful.
“You okay over there, Henderson?” He finally asks, the third time Dustin’s tossed his dice so hard across the board they’ve flown off the table.
Dustin accepts his dice back from Jeff who’d scooped them off the floor easily enough, but he sneers at Eddie. “What do you care, Munson?”
Even though Eddie knows the likely reason Dustin’s acting out, he still revels in the eyes going wide around him, the quiet ooohhs at Dustin’s words. Eddie smiles like a predator indulging its prey.
“A Dungeon Master always cares if his party members are having a good time,” he says, low and dangerous. “So if you have a complaint, I say out with it. Share with the class, please.”
The words and the tone pass over the kid who used to cower at the thought of Eddie being upset with him. The shadow grows larger.
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“Oh, really?” Eddie says, menacing, meeting Henderson’s head-on stare unflinchingly. “Well, if you don’t have anything to say, then—”
“What did you do to Steve?” Mike breaks into their standoff. Eddie’s attention snaps to him.
“Excuse me?”
Mike rolls his eyes at the theatrics, something Eddie wouldn't have imagined possible before spring break. “You heard me.”
“Why do you think I’ve done anything to him?”
“You haven’t been around at all, and Steve hasn’t mentioned you once since our last session. Normally he can’t shut up about you.”
“Mike!” Dustin hisses. Mike throws up his hands.
“It’s true! And his hair’s been all droopy!”
“Jesus Christ, Mike,” Lucas says, dropping his head in his hands.
“Oh no, not his hair!” Gareth cracks up with Grant and Jeff.
“Shut up, man,” Lucas says, with enough annoyance that the other guys stop laughing. Lucas never talks back.
“He dumped him,” Henderson bites off. “For no goddamn reason.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie stares Dustin down from behind his DM screen. Yeah, he did do that. But he had his reasons…mostly…and he’s not going to let some snot-nosed freshman, no matter what they’ve been through together, act like he’s the bad guy in this situation. He did what he had to do.
“Yes, I do.”
“What,” Eddie scoffs. “Did Steve run and tattle to you?”
“What is he, five? No he didn’t tattle to me.” Dustin rolls his eyes, which Eddie’s getting real tired of seeing. “It’s not tattling to tell your best friend something bad that happened to you. Besides, he didn’t even want to tell me, but I caught him crying and made him.”
That brings Eddie up short. “He was crying?”
“He was crying.” Dustin says, somehow smug and angry and sad all at once. “I’ve seen Steve after he was tortured and I’ve never seen him cry.”
“After he was what?”
“Dude!” Mike smacks him on the arm, gives him a look as he gestures to the rest of the Hellfire guys whose eyes are all wide as saucers.
Dustin rolls his eyes. “Metaphorically tortured,” he amends. Eddie glances at the guys and can see it doesn’t help. Eddie needs to end this now, before anyone says something they regret, or anyone exposes something they really shouldn’t.
“Henderson, listen—” But he’s cut off by a herd of elephants galumphing down the stairs.
“All right, children, it’s time to go! Move your butts!” Instead of elephants, it’s Robin, entering the room like righteous whirlwind. Eddie clocks immediately that she’s spitting mad, eyes ablaze, mouth set.
Gareth, with zero sense of self preservation, whines, “But we haven’t finished yet!” The look Robin shoots him is pure venom.
“Yes, you have.” She dismisses him, and turns back to the kids who are already gathering their things without protest. “Now move it, chop chop. Nancy’s in the station wagon outside.” The kids don’t grumble the way they normally do when…when it’s Steve come to get them and is hurrying them out of the room. Dustin shoulder checks Eddie on the way out, knocking him off balance metaphorically if not physically.
As the kids file upstairs, Robin lingers.
“I need to talk to you,” she says to him. “In private, please.” It’s not a request. Eddie nods. Time for a reckoning.
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Next up! Robin and Eddie have it out, and we get more insight into this "shadow" that Eddie feels.
I don't keep a tag list, so sorry! Likes and reblogs and comments are so so so appreciated!
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it's been a while but i'm finally back to working on this little something 😇
Eddie’s breathless when Steve breaks the kiss, chest heaving, lips parted and shiny, eyes dark and dazed. Looking already fucked-out from nothing but this – just a little kissing and touching, just the barest minimum of physical contact where they’re both unmistakably wanting for more – and it makes Steve wonder, imagine, how he’ll look even more beautiful when he’s done with him.
Steve can’t wait to watch him fall apart.
He releases Eddie from his hold, steps away just enough to give himself some space to lift his arms and pull his shirt over his head. With his upper body proudly on display, Steve revels in the way he can almost feel Eddie’s eyes rake over him in awe, finds pleasure in it. He knows he looks good, doesn’t mind showing off, can’t deny that he likes to be adored like that.
“You can touch me, if you like,” Steve offers, takes Eddie’s hands and brings them up to his chest.
Eddie takes a deep, grounding breath and nods, almost like giving himself permission, before he lets the tips of his fingers glide into Steve’s chest hair and over his pecs, thumbing his nipples briefly, tracing invisible lines down his sides and over his stomach. Steve shivers, closes his eyes and gives himself to the gentle touch, to the feeling of Eddie's hands on his skin, careful and shy but eager to explore.
It feels good, so good in fact that for a moment, Steve forgets his initial plan. But one particular part of him doesn’t, is demanding attention, bringing his focus back to where it should be.
He places his hands above Eddie’s and guides them down to where his jeans meet his waist.
“Wanna help me out of these?”
Eddie’s eyes widen before they flick down to where his trembling fingers start fighting with the button and zipper of Steve’s jeans. It’s a relief when he finally manages to get them undone, releasing him from the strain of the too tight fabric. Steve helps pushing his jeans down all the way, leaving them in a pile one the floor when he steps out.
He can’t stop the dirty grin from forming on his lips when his eyes fall on the now very much visible bulge in Eddie’s middle, feeling just a bit too pleased with himself for having that effect on him.
God, he can't wait to see what's hidden beneath those clothes.
“Your turn.”
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No Upside down modern Au: A few years after eddie finally graduates. Steve and Robin are at a pride parade/event. Eddie is also at the same pride event but significantly less sober. He sees Steve and thinks he's beautiful so he yells across the street something like "Hey, Beautiful! You single?!?!"
Steve of course is like "Is that Munson?" to Robin before Eddie comes galloping across the street stopping dead in front of Steve who now recognizes that Eddie is very much not sober. He holds out his phone with a slightly slurred "Hey, gorgeous, can I get your number?"
Steve puts his number in Eddie's phone, barely holding back a laugh. Saves it as 'Steve' without the last name, and then texts himself.
He texts Eddie later at night to make sure he got home okay. Eddie replies very enthusiasticly and with multiple black heart emojies that he did make it home. the next morning Eddie wakes up to see the conversation and has a bleary memory of a guy who reminded him of Michelangelo's David (but with clothes...) and immediately texts the guy, Steve, that he was sorry if he did anything stupid yesterday.
They text for a week or so before deciding to meet up. Steve's pretty sure Eddie doesn't know it's him. The look on Eddie's face when he walks in the coffee shop and Steve waves at him is priceless. He has to chase Eddie into the parkinglot and convince him that it's not some elaborate prank... which is difficult to do through the laughter.
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Eddie goes up to Hopper like the world isn’t about to end and is like, “How’d you bag a babe like Joyce Byers? She’s so out of your league. How’d you do it?”
Hopper just sputters because rude and he knows. Before he can even answer, Murray’s annoying ass cuts in, “They argued all the time until the sexual tension got too high.”
“Arguing,” Eddie nods, taking that in. “Got it, I’m on the right track.”
Then he turns around and yells on the top of his lungs, “Harrington! I think Abba sucks!!”
“Are you kidding me right now, Munson?!”
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Steve bites back a sigh when he sees a hand waving just out of the corner of his eye, trying to grab his attention from where Steve's gazing pitifully at his drink. The club is loud, music blasting, and maybe it's a little pathetic for Steve to be at his place of work on his day off, but Robin's behind the bar and he gets free drinks. Unfortunately, the kind of guys who frequent his workplace are usually the opposite of Steve's type.
So, he's prepared, for when he looks up, to gently let down whatever club boy who's decided to shoot their shot with him tonight. They all start to look the same to him: bleached hair, glitter, crop tops and low riding pants. Men who are too much like Steve to be what Steve's looking for.
When he looks up, however, his eyes go a little wide and his lips part from around the straw against his tongue.
"Hi!" yells the guy, long hair, long legs, long fingers. He's wearing way too much leather and denim for this place, and he must be boiling under that jacket. "W-would you like to dance?"
Steve takes a longer moment to take him in: his shoulders hunched up around his ears, fingers twisting his hair nervously, eyes big and brown and beautiful.
Straightening from where he's been hiding against the wall, Steve steps up into the guy's space, watches his eyes go bigger and his face go pink. He's perfect.
"I'm Steve," he says, leaning in so he can be heard over the music. "And you don't look like the kind of guy who dances."
"Oh, I'm not," the guy says, eyes flicking around Steve's face, dropping to Steve's chest, to his thighs and back up again. "Um, sorry. I'm Eddie."
Steve grins. "Nice to meet you, Eddie."
Eddie's mouth quirks up, an giddy, boyish smile. "P-pleasure's mine," he says. "And I may be terrible at it, but I'd love to dance with you. If you'd like."
"I would like," Steve tells him. He holds out his hand, feels his heart flutter when Eddie takes it. "I'd like that very much."
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i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.
He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.
It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”
So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”
Eddie feels his jaw drop.
“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.
“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”
“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”
“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”
“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”
Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.
“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”
“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”
Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.
“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”
Eddie gapes at him.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Huh?”
“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.
“Wha– you mean with Hop?”
“Uh, yeah?!?”
Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”
“What?”
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when they clean the house for the first time after moving in together, steve thinks eddie's gonna put on the same music he's always blaring in his van, but he's surprised when a martina mcbride song starts playing through the speakers they installed throughout the house. he looks over and eddie is dutifully avoiding eye contact, instead choosing to keep his eyes glued to his phone, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
"what's this, eds?" steve asks gently.
eddie shrugs and puts his phone down, pulling a lock of hair in front of his face. " s'what my mom used to put on when i was a kid and we'd clean the house. guess it kinda became a tradition." he picks up his phone again. "i can change it if you want, i know people have strong opinions about country music-"
"no!" steve steps forward and takes eddie's hand that's holding the phone. "no, i-" he gives him a soft smile. "i like it. i just thought you'd play one of those bands you always listen to."
eddie snorts and steps out of his space with a gentle squeeze to steve's hand and grabs a bottle of cleaner and a rag. "i have layers, steven." he lets his accent slip out a little, enjoying the flush on steve's own cheeks. "you know i was raised in kentucky before i came here. i'm just a little country boy at heart."
"yeah," steve agrees. "i just didn’t think you, like, liked any of that stuff, cause of-" he gestures at all of eddie.
a grin sweet as sin slides onto eddie's face easily. "oh baby," he drawls, "if you wanted the full experience, all you had to do was ask."
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Haunted house scare actor Eddie Munson is so so real to me. His favorite thing in the world is scaring the Real Tough jocks in front of their dates. What are they gonna do? Retaliate? They'd have to admit they were scared first. Also they'd have to find him first, he wears a mask and hides any distinguishing features for sure.
He's on smoke break when he sees King Steve meandering up to the haunted house with a group of popular kids. And if his instincts aren't lying to him- Harrington seems uneasy? Hesitant, maybe, to actually enter. Flinches at the ominous creaking of branches and witch cackle coming out of a speaker by the tombstones and the flickering of the lights. Fans the conversation when it seems like they'll go in soon to delay the inevitable.
Oh this is going to be fun.
Eddie finishes his cigarette and furtively books it into the house lmao, so he'll get to be the one to scare King Steve. Except instead of cowering or screaming or pushing a girl into the oncoming chainsaw (the aftermath of that one had been fun), he- okay he does kind of yell when scared. But it's honestly a pretty manly yell, especially combined with the arm pushing one of his friends behind himself, like he's gonna use himself as a human shield. Swoon. Also his face is kind of terrifying? He looks at Eddie like he's ready to kill or die to protect and it's annoyingly fucking attractive for the two seconds Eddie sees it before there's a broomstick coming at his noggin.
And then he's down.
Ow.
"Oh shit. Fuck. Oh I'm so sorry, fuck I didn't mean to- are you okay dude? I am so! Sorry!"
And then Steve tells his friends to go on without him and helps Eddie into the- break room? Or maybe just outside somewhere on a bench.
They fall in love, the end
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How sweet of Bakugo to share his umbrella even though he hates the rain
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Steve and Eddie childhood friends is my kryptonite.
They meet in the woods outside Steve's house when they're eight and nine years old. Steve is out exploring because his parents are fighting again, something about a secretary and a jazzercize instructor that Steve really doesn't understand or want to listen to. He's done it before, venturing outside to explore the forest like it's his own private world. They never notice when they're fighting like that anyway and Steve always finds his way back.
Eddie, on the other hand, is new to Hawkins. He's nine years old and was just dumped on his uncle's front porch because his dad "doesn't need some brat who cries when the wires spark." Eddie was heartbroken and mad and scared and he loved his uncle Wayne but he didn't want to be comforted so he ran into the woods, Wayne too slow to catch him but calling his name.
After running a while Eddie trips on a root falling on his hands and knees, blood slowly blooming from his palms. He looks up and realizes he has no idea which way he came from or how to get back and releases all the tears he kept locked up tight since that night with the car.
That's how Steve finds him. He makes his way over, calling softly to the boy crouched by his favorite tree. The boy looks up, and the first thing Steve thinks is that he looks a little funny. His head is shaved down and his eyes are a little buggy and he's lanky in a way Steve's never really seen before. His second thought is that he always keeps bandaids in his shorts.
Together they sloppily patch up Eddie's knee and left palm, Steve pressing a smacking kiss to the other boy's knee like he's seen the other moms do for their kids at the park. They introduce themselves and Steve takes him to all his favorite places in the woods. They play knight and dragon and talk about how mean dads are until the sun starts to set.
Eddie gets nervous when the sun starts to set, not used to the unique darkness of the woods, but Steve is used to it. He takes Eddie by the hand and asks him where he entered and guides him home. Wayne finds them like that, he's clearly been doing his own forest wanderings in his search for Eddie and is quick to sweep his nephew into his arms and hold him close. Edde excitedly introduces his uncle to his "new best friend, Steve," his mood lifted significantly since that morning.
Steve waves goodbye and slips away before Wayne can insist on taking him home in the truck, but that's far from the last they see of Steve. After that night, every time Steve's parents get in a fight or his parents go to one of their long, important business dinners without him he makes his way through the woods and to the Munson trailer. The first time it happens Wayne doesn't even know what to say. Steve looks every bit the little Harrington that he is with his little Khakis and perfectly pressed polo knocking on the trailer door all proper-like.
"Hello, I'm here to see Eddie. He's my best friend."
Before Wayne can figure out what to say there's a blur of oversized black hand-me-down clothes barrelling through the door and tackling the younger boy to the ground.
"STEVE!" Eddie absolutely screeches. Wayne is half worried he might take out one of the kid's eardrums, but seeing the wide smile Eddie has plastered on his face, Wayne decides not to say anything.
From there on Steve and Eddie are thick as thieves. Steve spends all his free time at the Munson trailer playing with Eddie and the stray animals. Despite some of Wayne's concerns, their friendship remains strong through the years. With Eddie in the grade above and the grades almost completely separated, they hardly get to interact at school, which only serves to fuel Eddie's disdain and Steve's disinterest in school. Middle school is much the same. They spend almost every waking moment together in the woods or in the trailer but live almost separate lives at school. It's not even that they're trying to hide it, it just never comes up.
When Steve starts climbing up the social ladder it isn't intentional at all. He doesn't have a lot of friends in his grade, certainly not any that come close to Eddie's status in his life, so he kind of just talks to everybody. He plays on the middle school basketball and baseball teams and does well, and before he knows it people are suddenly flocking around him and vying for his attention. He doesn't pay it much mind honestly.
Eddie on the other hand never fits in anywhere. Steve and Wayne are just about the only people in his life he cares about, and despite their overwhelming love and acceptance he can't help but turn out cynical. He struggles with anger management those first few years with Wayne, frustrated with being abandoned by his dad and separated from Steve and it all culminates in him being ostracized from his peers.
It isn't until high school that the rest of Hawkins clues into what's been in front of their faces the entire time. The high school is much less separated so while they won't be sharing any classes, there are many more opportunities for them to hang out.
On day one of Steve's freshman year he's already on the roster for both the basketball team and the swim team and there's already a small group of boys hanging around his locker ready to ride his coattails. They notice Steve seems distracted, turning his head back and forth when he's not struggling to get the lock undone. When he finally manages to wrestle the thing open, Eddie makes his move.
In a move reminiscent of that first day on Wayne's front porch, a blur of black second-hand clothes and dark curls barrels into Steve from the side taking him down to the linoleum floors. The guys around Steve's locker are ready to step in and beat this guy to a pulp until they hear raucous laughter coming from the both of them. They are treated to the sight of rising King Steve and established Freak Munson rolling around on the floor like unruly puppies and don't know what to do with themselves.
When the boys calm down and stand up, arms slung comfortably around each other's shoulders, they're met with the very confused faces of Steve's kind-of-friends.
"You know this guy Steve?"
"You and Munson are friends?"
"What the fuck was that?"
Steve and Eddie share a very confused look, neither of them having realized that people have no idea they're friends. They look back at the guys with two devastating "are you dumb" faces and say:
"Uh, yeah, Duh."
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Years down the line, after queer awakenings, a healthy dose of heartache for them both, and a properly dramatic star-lit confession Eddie and Steve both absolutely love regaling anyone who will listen with their love story. Steve insists that he knew from the moment Eddie looked at him with those big bug eyes that he would love Eddie Munson for the rest of his life. Eddie, on the other hand, insists that's bullshit and instead insists that he was the one who fell first "it doesn't count if you were a child Sevie you didn't understand what love was!" that day in the hall when he realized how tall and handsome his best friends had become when they got up off the floor.
Either way, they both eat up the looks people give them as they share their tales of pining, self-discovery, and true love.
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steddie semi-meet cute where adult star steve (whos attempting a record-breaking gangbang) falls for a mystery man (eddie) who takes him from behind and babbles (endearingly) in his ear nonstop until he finishes and is shuffled out. the only problem: steve never saw him—never got his name!
so steve does the only logical thing and gets a list of the participants from the producers and tracks them down, hoping to find the man he’s fallen for. when he gets to the last name on the list—wayne munson in forest hills trailer park.
steve’s disappointed when an older man—with a voice that’s clearly not his guys—answers the door and says he’s the only wayne munson living there. seeing steve’s despair, wayne invites him in for a drink and sets steve down at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee (with a healthy splash of bourbon) and a slice of chocolate cake and asks what brought steve to his door.
steve isn’t ashamed of his job, but he also is very aware of being alone in an unfamiliar home with a man he doesn’t know, so he glosses over the fine details and tells wayne that he’s an actor and he fell in love with an extra on scene and was trying to find him.
steve finds that talking to wayne is easy, and between the chocolate and the hot drink and a sympathetic ear, he starts to feel a bit better. he doesn’t know why someone used wayne’s name and address, but he’s glad his path crossed with waynes none the less.
wayne might not have answers to who his mystery guy is, but he’s a great listener and offers great advice.
when steve hears a car pull up outside, he regrets that their conversation must be coming to an end.
“don’t you worry about that,” wayne says, waving him off when steve tries to make his excuses. “that’s just my boy; he’s supposed to cook for me tonight. you should stay for dinner. he makes a mean lasagna.”
before steve can protest further, the front door opens and all ideas of leaving are gone. because the guy walking in looks like steves wet dreams—like the kind of guy he used to dream about skipping class with so he could rail steve over the picnic table in the woods behind the school.
wayne’s nephew has his hands full—bags of groceries hanging from both arms, a dish in hand that steve assumes is the lasagna, and an orange cat yowling at his heels while he apologizes to his uncle for being late.
steve’s so caught up in looking at eddie that he barely registers wayne explaining steve’s presence there.
when eddie turns to look at him, steve can tell eddie feels the same way about steve—that instant connection.
feeling confident, steve steps forward and offers his hand.
“i’m steve,” he says with his prettiest smile.
“i’m eddie. i think we’ve met before.”
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So you’re telling me I Never posted my favorite angsty steddie art here?
My commissions are open!
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Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: Part Two
-> Part 1
cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.
Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.
The Brain Injury Recovery Center.
It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.
So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.
Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…
There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.
“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.
Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.
Can’t let Eddie see him like this…
He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.
For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.
It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.
Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.
As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.
Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.
He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.
Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.
Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…
His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.
But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.
And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.
It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.
Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?
Stupid, stupid, stupid…
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.
Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…
The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.
It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.
Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.
He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.
Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.
Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.
To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.
Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.
“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.
He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.
“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.
“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.
“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”
The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”
Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”
She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”
“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”
“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”
He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.
“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.
“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.
She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.
He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…
It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.
Hopper steps out.
Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.
When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.
His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.
Then it clicks.
Oh. Steve’s the emergency.
He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.
“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.
Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.
Munson. Eddie.
The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?
Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.
“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?
“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.
When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”
Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”
Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.
“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.
“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”
“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.
The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.
In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.
“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.
Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.
But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.
“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”
Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.
Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“
Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.
She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”
Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”
She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.
“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.
“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”
But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.
“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.
Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”
But she doesn’t, not really.
Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—
No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.
Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.
When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.
🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.
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