strangersteddierthings

[strangersteddierthings]

'Keep your light on'

written for @steddiemicrofic, prompt 'sign', wc: 507

R: T | Dystopic AU, soulmates, sci-fi, star-crossed lovers, light angst, happy ending | CW: mention of blood

Ao3 link

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**CONGRATS ON YOUR MATCH**

*You've finally been paired. Here's the profile of your Designated Soulmate, and the location of your first meeting. Don't be late!*

Eddie is late. He was supposed to be on his date one hour ago. Instead, he's turning off the engine of his bike in front of the Harrington's residence, in a quiet pampered neighborhood

He glances at the security cameras on the fence, but he's not worried. Steve knows how to avoid them, he proved it everytime he snuck out without getting caught.

Eddie's chip keeps vibrating. They don't have much time: ghosting your Designated Soulmate is an offense, if you don't show up, you're quickly found and arrested.

But Steve's window is still dark, so Eddie waits.

They fought about it all the time. Eddie wanted to cross the border and settle, anywhere - Steve wanted to wait for them to be paired together. Eddie knew it was never gonna happened. And as predicted, he got paired with another lowclass worker, and Steve with some rich chick.

"I'll come get you," Eddie had promised. "When it happens, I'll be there, waiting for you. Keep your light on so I know you're coming."

Steve got angry. Called him dramatic. "What if I don't want to leave everything behind?" he asked. Eddie sighed, "Then I'll leave you behind with the rest of this bullshit."

It's been an hour and the light of Steve's windows is still off. Eddie's bag is heavy on his shoulders, the cold of the night slithers its way under his jacket - he can't wait anymore. He's not gonna let the Matchmaker decide who he can love. He gives a decisive kick to the bike, and the engine roars.

He says a silent and bitter goodbye to the boy who won't fight for what they have.

He's ready to drive away when a light blinks in Steve's window. Frozen, Eddie looks up - here he is. Eyes red and wet, one hand pressed against the window, the other one flickering the switch so Eddie couldn't miss the blinking light that says "wait for me".

A few minutes later, Steve climbs up the portal and lands softly in front of Eddie. He hooks his thumbs in the straps of his backpack.

"You were really gonna leave?" Steve asks with a sheepish smile.

"You were really gonna let me?" Eddie retorts.

Steve steps closer, but doesn't reach to grab Eddie's jacket, doesn't throw his arms around Eddie's neck, doesn't kiss him with this urgency usually vibrating between them. Instead, he rolls up his sleeve. Eddie hears the distinctive switch of a blade. Before he can stop Steve, his boy is already diving two fingers into the deep cut on his wrist, sliding out the chip.

Eddie stares at this small shackle they all wear in their flesh as it's tossed to the ground. Steve licks the blood out of his wound and steps on the chip, burning the last bridge between himself and the Matchmaker.

Without a word, he hands the knife to Eddie.

[strangersteddierthings]

You know what I was thinking about? Medieval/Royalty AU where Steve is a prince, who grew up alone and isolated from most people because his father was awful and thought no one was good enough to be around them.

Steve grew up by himself, with no real friends, no one he could trust. He learned really young that most people only got close to him because he was royalty; no one was interested in Steve.

Then one day this bard shows up at their castle. He’s passionate and funny and tells the best stories. Steve is awed.

The King, however, is not impressed. He’s not very fond of art, thinks the whole thing is pointless and a waste of time, so the bard is not allowed into the castle very often. And that angers Steve in a way it’s new to him.

Because he’s always followed his father’s rules without questioning. He’s been the best son and heir a king could wish for, he’s spent years of his life learning things he’s not interested in because his father says it is his duty, and he’s never asked for anything in return. And after all this, Steve can’t even hear some stories because his father says it’s useless.

For the first time in his life, Steve rebels. In his own way, but he does.

He finds out the bard is telling stories almost every day in the market, so Steve sneaks out of the castle and goes there to watch whatever tale he is telling that day. He spots the man easily, it’s impossible not to.

The bard starts with the usual adventures children love so much. He sings about a group of friends that fought together to defeat a horrible monster who was trying to conquer their village; they face hardships and dangerous enemies, but they are victorious because together they are stronger than any monster could ever dream of being.

The children cheer and clap when the man finishes his tale, and Steve joins them. The next story is about two lovers who find each other again after years of separation and heartbreak; this one makes Steve tear up a little.

Then, in the softest of voices, the bard starts singing about a prince, so beautiful and so kind, who’s admired by his people but always looks so, so sad. No one seems to understand the reason behind his sadness; he’s a prince after all. They think it’s because the prince is lonely, but there’s no way for them to know that because very few people are allowed to get close to him. If only the prince knew how much his people love him and how much they wish they could show him that.

By the time the bard finishes his song, Steve is full on crying because that song is about him, isn’t it? It has to be, there’s no way it isn’t.

The bard follows with a happier song, but Steve is not listening anymore. He’s too shaken up for that. He pulls his cloak closer to hide himself and goes back to the castle in a hurry, heart beating fast and feet unsteady. Luckly enough, his absence goes unnoticed.

This is all the incentive Steve needs to turn his little escapade into a habit.

Whenever he can, Steve pulls on his common clothes, his cloak and sneaks out of the castle. He doesn’t find the bard every time, but the man is at the market frequently enough that Steve becomes quite familiar with his songs and tales. The song about the sad prince makes Steve emotional every single time.

Then one day, when Steve is making the way back to the castle, he runs into the bard. Better yet, he spots the bard sitting somewhere close to the road, as if he’s waiting for something or someone. He has his fiddler with him and is playing a familiar tune.

“Hey there, princeling,” the man greets, waving at Steve. “Did you enjoy the show today?”

Steve stops in his tracks, alarmed. Has the bard been waiting for him here? How did he even get here so fast? Twenty minutes ago, the man was playing and singing in the market square.

“Calm down, I’m not gonna do anything to you if that’s your concern, Your Highness.” Standing up, the bard slings his fiddler over his back and saunters towards Steve until they’re face to face. “I just wanted to say hi to my most distinguished fan. You’ve been coming here a lot lately, I’m honored to know someone so important appreciates my humble art.”

Steve is hyperaware of how close they are and, yet, for some reason, he doesn’t feel threatened at all. Rationally, he knows he should. He doesn’t know this man, he doesn’t even know his name. For all Steve knows, this bard could actually be an assassin in disguise. Still, something in the man’s eyes seems too honest for Steve to feel in danger.

So, instead of doing the smart thing and running back to the castle without looking back, Steve blurts. “Is that song about me?”

“What song?”

“The one about the sad prince.”

And the bard… the bard smiles so bright and fond at him that Steve’s heart skips a beat.

(The fact that the man is easily one of the most handsome men Steve has ever laid eyes on might also have something to do with that.)

“You noticed that, huh!?” the bard chuckles as he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving Steve’s as he does so. “Will you give me the pleasure of your company if I say it is?”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to know you, Steve. If you let me, of course.”

Not trusting his own voice, Steve nods, despite the mix of anxiety and exhilaration bubbling in his chest.

“Excellent.” The bard bows his head briefly before offering his hand. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Lovely to finally meet you."

Steve takes his hand without a second of hesitation.

[strangersteddierthings]

"I need you to take a walk with me," Dustin demands as soon as Steve opens his front door.

"Well hello to you, too."

Dustin rolls his eyes. "Steve. Please come take a walk with me."

And Steve would have protested. He would have dragged it out a little more. Would have told him that he can't right now, he's getting ready for a date tonight (he would not have mentioned that said date is with Eddie. The kid doesn't need to know about that until they themselves figure out what this is). But the thing is- the thing is that Steve can tell there's an undercurrent of desperation there. He can see the barely constrained stress around Dustin's eyes. And Steve has never been able to leave Dustin like that. Will never be able to.

So he toes on his sneakers and hopes that wherever they end up won't get too much dirt on his light wash jeans or mess up his hair too much.

"You've got two hours," he says, glancing at his watch and shutting the door behind him.

***

Dustin silently leads them into the woods. Steve tries to ask him where they're going and why he needed to take a walk right then but Dustin stays quiet, giving only short replies when he bothers to talk at all.

It's freaking Steve out.

It freaks him out so much that he doesn’t even realize where they’re heading until they’re already walking on the old railroad tracks. This feels familiar.

Dustin is walking just slightly ahead of him, staring resolutely ahead. He only lasts maybe another 30 seconds before he sighs. “So.”

Steve’s head pops up. He’s finally going to know why Dustin dragged him out here.

“I think I’m ready to make love to Suzie now and I need some help,” he says, determined. He’s still staring straight ahead, not even looking at Steve.

“Ew, gross dude. Why’d you have to say it like that?”

That gets Dustin to turn around. “Steve! I need some help,” he says shrilly.

It takes everything he has in him but Steve manages not to laugh when he says, “I don’t know. I think it should kind of be a solo activity the first time, bud.” No, wait. That doesn’t sound right. “…or well. A party of two, I mean. Three’s a crowd and all.”

“Steeeeeeve.”

Steve does laugh then. “Okay. Okay! Fine. But why didn’t you just ask Lucas? Or Mike? They’ve both been with their girlfriends for years now I’m sure they’d have some useful information for you.”

“Ew, no. That would’ve been weird. Plus you have way more experience.” Um, rude. Was he calling Steve a slut?

“And it’s not weird asking me?”

Dustin scoffs. “No. That’s what older brothers are for. To teach you things that you can’t ask your mom.” Steve melts a little. He knows he and Dustin see each other as brothers, have for years, but it still gets him every time Dustin calls him that. “Plus,” Dustin continues, unaware of Steve internally liquifying. “I don’t want to know any details of Mike and El’s relationship. I want complete plausible deniability with Hopper.”

“That’s actually probably not a bad idea,” Steve concedes.

“I know,” Dustin says, arrogance shining through again. The kid really does need to humble himself.

They’re silent for another minute as they continue to walk on. “So?”

“So what?”

“Steve! Are you gonna help me or what?”

Steve stops and groans, running a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this, but yes. Fine. What do you want to know?”

Dustin beams up at him. “Yes! Okay. Okay,” he takes a breath. “Okay so, like, how does it work?”

Steve looks at him, horrified. “Dustin, what do you mean how does it work?”

“No! No, I know, like, the mechanics of it all,” he starts to make a gesture with his fingers but Steve slaps his hands down before he can get too far. “But how do I make it good? Like for Suzie. And safe! How do I know which condoms to get? Do I need to buy dental dams?”

“Whoaaaa slow your roll, dude. One question at a time!” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. So. You’re ready to have sex with Suzie. Is she ready to have sex with you too?”

“Um, yeah.” Dustin says yeah like he means duh. But then he pauses. “I mean, I think so.”

“You gotta know so. None of this ‘maybe, I think so’ shit. She’s gotta be into it and ready too. So you need to have an actual conversation about that first. And if you’re not ready to do that, then you’re not ready to have sex.”

“Okay. Yeah, I can do that,” Dustin says nodding.

“Okay. Good. What else?”

Steve spends the next hour and a half talking Dustin through it, giving him tips on eating a girl out (“dude I don’t know anyone who has ever used a dental dam” and “why are you flicking your tongue like that at me. No. No one wants that. Stop that, it’s gross”), on buying condoms (“just grab the regular size. No one expects you to have a magnum and honestly it’d be way more embarrassing and a much bigger problem if it slips off inside of her because you’re not actually big enough to fit in it”), on how to touch her (“do you know where the clit is?” and “you’ve got to curl your fingers, like this”), and on how to not blow your load the second you get it in (“jerk off before you go to see her. No, Dustin, don’t look at me like that. I’m serious. You are not going to last more than three seconds if you’re all keyed up and haven’t gotten off already at least once that day”).

By the time they make it back to Steve’s, Dustin feels a lot more confident, and Steve feels like he’s actually helped him to at least not completely humiliate himself his first time.

Dustin is strapping his helmet on when Steve stops him. “Oh, Dustin! One last thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop calling it making love.”

“But it is.”

“What?” Steve deadpans.

“It is making love. And it’s romantic.”

“Whatever you say dude. I’m just telling you, it’s not a very sexy thing to call it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve. What should I call it instead? Fucking? Boning?”

“Ugh. You know what? Call it whatever you want.”

“You know what Steve? I’m surprised you even get dates with that attitude.”

Dates.

Date.

Oh shit. His date with Eddie.

“Oh shit. It’s been way more than two hours, dickhead. Okay, I have plans and you need to go now,” Steve calls out before running inside to grab his keys and rushing by Dustin on his bike to pull out of his driveway and down the road. He will not be late to his first date with Eddie.

(He was a little late to his first date with Eddie. But Eddie said it was worth it after Steve told him about how he spent his afternoon. And yeah. He thinks this is something he’ll get to tell Dustin about sometime in the near future.)

[strangersteddierthings]

Things Found Stashed with Harrington’s Old Things

-

[another one i never posted]

[this one was actually made for a playlist i made , the art based on some 90’s au, but the playlist is based on the canon timeframe]

[originally made: 01.08.23]

[strangersteddierthings]

My favorite thing about Steddie is that you’d think it’s

*drug dealing trailer park metalhead satanist* grumpy and *golden boy all american upper middle class* sunshine

But it’s actually the total opposite

And I think that’s beautiful

[strangersteddierthings]

Cafe Sunshine

AO3 | @steddiemicrofic july prompt: sign | @steddiebingo round 2 prompt: coffee | rating: g | wc: 507 | cw: none | tags: stobin; deaf steve harrington; eddie munson learns ASL for steve; fluff fluff fluff

Eddie tries talking, flirting with him – the absolutely stunning barista at this random cafe he just stumbled into. The barista smiles softly at him for a solid minute before pointing at the pin tacked to his apron – “Hi! I’m deaf. Please be patient.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, fingers fumbling in response – “I’m sorry.” 

The barista positively lights up, his grin turning more than blinding as he signs rather quickly.

“Ah, shit.” Eddie shakes his head, signs “I’m sorry” again. He points to his mouth and tries to speak as clearly as possible. “Can you read lips?” 

The barista’s smile dims slightly, but he nods. Eddie explains he only knows a few signs, clumsily demonstrates as the barista just softly smiles in response. 

“Hey, you know more than most people, dude.” The barista’s coworker comments, sliding up to the counter. “Guarantee you just made Steve’s whooooole day with what you know. He doesn’t really get to talk to people in ASL normally. People just don’t learn it.” They turn and sign something. Steve nods and slips away, but not before smiling and signing “thank you” to Eddie. 

“That – I barely did anything.”

They shrug, a sad tilt to their lips as they watch Steve walk to the back. “Yeah, well, barely doing anything is more than most doing nothing.”

Three weeks pass. Eddie spends every free moment studying ASL, even manages to get the advice of Steve’s coworker, and apparently best friend, Robin, on some good resources to use. He practices full sentences since he mainly knows some words and short phrases. He manages some short, very broken conversations with an incredibly patient Steve.

But, he wants to do more, to be able to talk to Steve properly, like he deserves.

“Showtime.” Eddie mutters as he walks into the cafe.

Ergo, weeks of practicing.

Steve’s smiling wide. “Morning, Eddie.” He slides Eddie’s order across the counter, perfectly prepared, as always. There’s even a tiny heart and smiley face drawn on the coffee cup. 

Eddie’s positive this man will be the death of him. 

Eddie steels himself, swallows down a lump of emotion. “Hey, Sunshine. Would you want to hang out sometime? I’d love the chance to talk to you more and get to know who you are.” He stumbles a bit, clumsily adds, “As much as you’re willing to share.”

Steve laughs, pure awe taking over his face, a deep pink dusting his cheeks. The sound sparks through Eddie’s bloodstream, lighting him up from the inside. Steve nods, “Yeah. I’d really love that.” 

Robin squeezes in next to Steve. “As much as I’d love to watch you two flirt, I have other customers to attend to.” They turn to Steve, “Take your break, nerd.”

Steve thanks them, grabs Eddie’s breakfast, drags him over to the table in the corner, nothing but pure sunshine radiating from every ounce of his being. 

Eddie’s so going to be late for work, but he can’t be bothered to care – not when Steve is looking at him like this. 

taglist (open): @sunshine-daydreams0809 @saramelaniemoon @probablyin-bed

divider credit: @saradika-graphics

thank you for reading :)

[strangersteddierthings]

💄

[strangersteddierthings]

Family

A @steddiemicrofic written for the prompt "sign".

507 words, no warnings. Rating G. Additional tags: Steve's grandpa, coming out, meet the family (implied)

“It’s not like it was new to me,” Grandpa says, “Gay people. I have met them before.”

“What… when?” Steve asks.

“In the war,” Grandpa shrugs. “Always a few, saying they were- you know. Most of us reckoned they were going for a Section 8.”

“That’s M*A*S*H,” Steve protests.

“Well, where do you think they got the idea?” Grandpa winks at him. “But two men in my regiment. They were sweethearts. I saw them once. Clinging to each other, like I wished I could cling to your grandma.”

Steve swallows. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Grandpa shakes his head. “It wasn’t my business. I’d forgotten, mostly. Then when you told me you were -what’s the word? Bisexual?”

Steve nods. He’s not sure he can speak.

“I thought of them again,” Grandpa continues. “Good men, both of them.” He picks up the photo on the mantel that’s been there as long as Steve can remember. Grandpa and his regiment, somewhere in the Pacific. He points to a man, basketball under one arm, the other around the neck of the dark-haired man next to him.

“Pat,” he says. “He must have carried that basketball through three different bases.” He smiles. “And his young man,” he moves to the man next to him. “Mack. He wasn’t one for basketball. But he could sing like a bird. Played the guitar too. Good men. Good friends.”

“Did they,” Steve swallows. “Make it home?”

Grandpa nods. “They were lucky.”

He sets the picture down carefully. “But that was a long time ago, and I don’t know how things work now, it's practically the nineties! So I got a book from that shop in Lakeview.”

“Shop?” Steve asks, mind whirling.

“I thought I’d got the wrong place at first,” Grandpa shrugs. “But there was that sign in the window – the rainbow. So I went in and said my Grandson had just uh. Come Out. And I wanted a book to help me look after him.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve protests. “I don’t need looking after.”

“It’s always my job to look after you,” Grandpa says. “Anyway they were very nice. They said I could come back with questions. So I did. And then some of the girls had trouble with their landlord, so I gave them some advice.”

“Girls?” Steve asks, thinking of Robin.

"A lovely bunch of young ladies," Grandpa sounds approving. "Cazz came all the way out to help me tune up the Buick. Said I'm not to take it anywhere else but her garage. I get special rates for family."

"Are you replacing me with a lesbian, Grandpa?" Steve asks.

“Never.” Grandpa pulls him into a hug. “You’re still my favourite.”

“Good,” Steve says.

“Now, you didn’t drive all the way here to talk bout the Buick.” Grandpa says. “So what brings you here?”

“I want you to meet someone,” Steve says. “I asked him to give us thirty minutes. He’s always late but-”

The bell buzzes-

“I think that’s him.”

“Your young man?”

“Eddie.” Steve says. “His name is Eddie.”

[strangersteddierthings]

[strangersteddierthings]

steve (steddie) era is back

[strangersteddierthings]

[strangersteddierthings]

Have had this idea brewing in my cauldron for a minute so—

The older kids are hanging out at Steve’s getting their party on with some drinks and weed and Eddie and Steve are tentatively at the point in the friendship where they are just starting to rag on each other but Eddie unknowingly takes it a little too far. Steve isn’t gonna say anything cuz he knows it wasn’t malicious and he wants to keep the mood light, but Robin definitely ain’t gonna let that slide.

Robin decides she should take Eddies handcuff belt and cuff him to some of Steve furniture. Eddie, who was barely functioning drunk and now dead asleep, isn’t able to object. Steve, who is currently helping Jon take a stoned Nancy to his car, also can’t prevent it. When he comes back in he doesn’t notice the dining room chair suddenly next to Eddies sleeping form on his couch, and just takes Robin home.

Imagine Eddies Surprise when he wakes up to a pounding headache and when he goes to reach for his head he can’t move his hands because oh no! He is handcuffed to one of Steve’s dining room chairs.

Which, hey, for a guy who could Hotwire a van, should be easy to get out of, right?

No, Eddie never bothered to learn how to pick the locks on handcuffs. Hopper always made then just loose enough for Eddie to slip them right off. Even with eddies own cuffs he always had the key on his keyring, but that was lost during the whole Hell is real and in your town fiasco so, he doesn’t know what to do.

Enter Steve who walks down stairs to Eddie attenping to go through Steve kitchen to find something to pick a lock with. Steve offers to help but Eddie, hungover, annoyed, and embarrassed, says something about Steve being too much of a good boy to know anything about handcuffs and picking locks, that his little jock brain wouldn’t be able to understand it.

And well— Steve thought Eddie and him were become a bit more friendly and nice to each other, but he is still the queen of petty and bitchy so, Sure, he could unlock those cuffs in five seconds, but why should he, he is just a goodie two shoes little jock who doesn’t know a thing about picking locks.

He lets Eddie suffer for HOURS, forced to stay stuck in Steve’s house as Steve putters around offering more and more ridiculous ideas to get Eddie out of the cuffs.

Eventually Steve noticed how rubbed raw Eddies wrists are and goes upstairs and gets out his lock picks and finally makes Eddie sit still so he can unlock them. Eddies attempts to make a jab about Steve being a kinky bad boy with his handcuff knowledge and Steve let’s put a small laugh and goes “naw man, I’m still your good boy, I just was really into magic”

Eddie absolutely blues screens at “I’m still your good boy” coming out of Steve’s mouth but then he hears the rest of the sentence and is absolutely flabbergasted because what do you MEAN Steve practiced up close magic in seventh grade before Tommy got too embarrassed by Steve doing magic tricks at school and started bullying him about how dorky it was until Steve stopped.

[strangersteddierthings]

I Can Tell You My Love for You Will Still be Strong; After the Boys of Summer Have Gone

[originally posted 9/2/23]

[this was actually art i made for a fic i wrote based on Don Henley’s Boys of Summer, it’s unposted right as I have no beta readers]

[it also includes a playlist as well]

[if there is interest in the fic, i will post updates under the tags “steddie of summer”] [i already have 4k words, and im not even done with part 1]

[strangersteddierthings]

if i was an evil vampire very very clearly trying to entice you into my home for sexually deviant purposes would you still follow me home from the bar yes or no

[strangersteddierthings]

Messy steddie sketch

[strangersteddierthings]

Not What I'm Wanted For

AO3 | written for @corrodedcoffinfest day 28: never been kissed | rating: t | wc: 998 | cw: drinking, brief mentions of being used for sex in the past | POV: Steve | tags: pre-steddie; steve has a secret; spin the bottle gone wrong; robin and gareth are little shits (lovingly); eddie is a sweetheart; getting together

Cheers fill the room as the narrow spout of the bottle stops, pointed squarely at Steve. Steve swallows thickly, refuses to look at the person who spun it. Instead, he fidgets with the hem of his pants where he’s sat cross-legged on the floor, his knee knocking against Robin – Robin, who’s been a sharp thorn in his side all night, matched only in her feral intensity by Gareth, who’s prodding insistently at his other side.

“Pucker up, buttercup.” Gareth laughs, makes obnoxious kissy noises as he leans against Steve.

“Knock it off, man.” Steve forces a laugh, pushes Gareth back, watches as he grins maniacally, all too similar to –

“Promise I don’t bite.” Eddie grins, cocks his head to the side as he licks his lips. “Unless you want me to, sweetheart.”

A chorus of oooohs surrounds them, breaking the last of Steve’s composure.

“I didn’t realize we were back in 9th grade.” Steve glares down at the group as he stands, their bodies formed in a spindly semi-circle around a mostly empty wine bottle. There’s a few drops just beneath the spout, a deep red seeping into the rug.  “Jesus, you couldn’t at least rinse it out first?”

Robin grabs the bottle, chugs the remaining liquid, their friends cheering her on. She releases it with a smack and a smile before thunking the bottle back down onto the stained carpet. “Happy now?”

“Not even a little bit.” 

“Steeeeve. C’mon, it’s fun!” 

Steve focuses his glare on his best friend. “Yeah. Fun. I’m gonna–” He waves his hand at the door, “--have a cigarette. Or three.”

She furrows her brow. “Wait, Steve–”

“No, Robin.” He steps through the circle, feels a hand grasp his calf, warm and strong, fingertips grazing the skin peeking out from beneath his sweatpants. He turns, looks down at the hand, traces his eyes slowly up. Up the wrist, the inked forearm, the sleeve bunched around the elbow, the broad shoulder, the pale expanse of neck, the stubble-lined chin, the soft open lips, the pinkness, the dampness, the–

“Harrington. Hey, man, you good?”

Steve blinks hard, tries to focus his eyes anywhere but those lips. Lands on eyes instead, full and warm and so, so brown. “Ye-yeah, I’m good. Chill. Fine.”

Eddie squints, those beautiful, warm brown eyes filling with concern. He opens his mouth to speak, but Steve stops him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Gonna go smoke. Have fun.” Steve wrestles his leg away from Eddie’s burning grip, and retreats into the cool night air, only allowing himself to breathe once he feels the cool brick exterior of the pool house against his back as he slumps to the ground.

“Can I sit?’

Steve shrugs.

Eddie slides down next to him, starts fidgeting with his rings. “Hey, man, look, I’m so–”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Eddie turns, eyebrows pinched together. “But–”

“No, Eddie. It’s fine. I told you, I’m fi–”

“Jesus, Harrington, you gotta stop with that.”

Steve blinks, slowly turns toward Eddie, pressing his cheek into the cool brick as Eddie’s heated gaze locks on him. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I mean, you don’t gotta do anything, but like – fuck, I mean–” Eddie groans, rubs his hand down his face. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable and that’s not okay. I crossed a boundary – no, listen, please.” Eddie holds up his hand imploringly, watches as some protest dies on Steve’s lips. “I crossed a boundary. Even if I didn’t know it existed, it’s still wrong, and I'm sorry.” Eddie lowers his hand. “You don’t have to accept it. Just want you to know, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Steve blinks, swallows down the sweet taste of Eddie’s words, feels them settle thick inside of him, warm and real. He sees the sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, the anxious fiddling of his fingers along the zipper of the jacket Eddie must’ve slipped on when he came out. Tears burn in Steve’s eyes as he realizes it’s his jacket Eddie’s wearing. 

“I– fuck, man.” Steve laughs, wipes his eyes. “Thank you, yeah – seriously, thanks. I just– the game, it–” He lets out a breath, worries his lip between his teeth. “It’s stupid, but–”

“Hey, it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you. I prom–.” 

“I’veneverbeenkissed.” 

Steve avoids Eddie’s gaze for all of three seconds before he has to see the expression there. It’s one of confusion, major confusion. 

“You’ve…never been kissed?”

Steve nods.

“But– but, you, high school, all those girls–”

Steve laughs, a hollow, weak thing. “Yeah, I know. Turns out you get a girl off once on a dare as a freshman and, next thing you know, you become king of some hollow court where people only swing by to get off. No one wants to kiss when they could get a quick and dirty orgasm and leave.” He shrugs. “It’s not what I’m wanted for.”

“Fuck that, I want to.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”

“That’s not exactly how I meant to–” Eddie mutters, but smiles, anxious, soft, real. “I want to. Kiss you, that is. Hold your hand. Take you on a date, if you’d let me.”

Steve swallows down a lump in his throat, whispers out, “Don’t lie to me, Eds.”

“I’m not. I promise.” Eddie reaches out, tentatively grabs Steve’s shaking hand. “All those girls – they’re idiots, frankly, for not wanting to kiss you or keep you around. And, uh–” He clears his throat. “I’d really love the chance to try to give you even an ounce of what you deserve.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath. “You’re…serious?”

“Most serious I’ve been about anything since moving in with Wayne.”

Steve pauses, looks at this beautiful, kind man, thinks of how much he wants this, and decides fuck it. “Okay. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Munson."

Eddie grins, squeezes Steve’s hand. “I’m gonna woo you so hard, sweetheart. Just you wait.”

taglist (open): @sunshine-daydreams0809 @saramelaniemoon @probablyin-bed

divider credit: @saradika-graphics

thank you for reading :)

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve comes out as bi and Dustin’s like ‘perfect’ and immediately reaches out to his favorite musician. He messages Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin on every platform he exists on like, “I see that you only date losers. Let me introduce you to Steve. Here is a picture.”