#? ​is that steve/carol’s ship name?

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 5th Prompt: Reunion

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Babe,” Eddie calls from the kitchen. Steve’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, so he garbles out an unintelligible one minute! before quickly finishing.

He walks into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s eyes are dancing with mirth as he helps Steve fix his collar. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail.”

Steve raises a brow. “You’re acting like my parents are groveling at the door right now.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I’d very much be laughing in their faces if that’s what was happening.” He grabs Steve’s glasses from the counter he’d forgotten them on last night, unfolds them, and carefully slides them on Steve’s face. “No migraines,” he murmurs, and Steve’s hit with a rush of love so big he just has to tell Eddie.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles softly; a small, disbelieving, hopeful thing that’s never changed from the first time Steve said it. “And I, my love,” he murmurs back. “But no, it’s not your parents.” His grin grows into a giggle. “It’s fuckin’ Hawkins High.”

Steve makes a face. “It’s still standing?”

Eddie snorts. “Apparently-fucking-ly.” He grabs two letters; one with Steve’s name, one with Eddie’s. “One letter for each of us. I already opened mine. It’s a reunion.”

Steve furrows his brows, rips into the envelope, pulls the paper out. “Hawkins High School… forty-year reunion… de-” he frowns up at Eddie. “Decennial?”

Eddie hums, nods. “Every ten years. God knows where our other ones went.”

Steve hums. “Guess we can throw these in the trash, huh?”

Eddie shifts. “You don’t want to go?”

Steve stares at him incredulously. “You do? You, Eddie Munson, want to go back to the place where—and these are your words, here—apart from our group of friends, only the- the backwoods of inbreeding resides?”

Eddie cackles. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He’s delighted. Steve’s finding it hard not to smile in the face of that joy.

“So you want to go back?”

Eddie shrugs. “Think about it,” he requests. “I don’t want to go to see how anyone else is doing. Frankly, I don’t have the time to give two shits about them. But you know I’ll always jump at the chance to show you off.”

Steve raises both eyebrows this time. “You want to show me off? In fucking Hawkins?”

Eddie deflates. “You don’t want to go.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, babe, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that even though it’s legal, even though we’re officially married now, if there’s one place that isn’t gonna be accepting…” he trails off, lets Eddie finish the thought for himself.

“What if I convince Nancy to come?”

“Well, she’ll have to come if we go, won’t she? Cause you know she’ll go anywhere Robin does, and Robin’s gonna follow me, so…”

Eddie snickers. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. But babe, we’ll have Nancy and Robin on our side. The three of you took on Vecna, I think you can take on some overweight, washed-up, balding fifty-something-year-old.” He squeezes at Steve’s biceps, and Steve tries not to preen.

He’s proud of the care he’s shown his body, he’s proud of the way he looks, he’s proud that Eddie likes the way he looks. He can feel his resolve waning, is about to tell Eddie fuck it, let’s go, when his phone rings.

He pats his pockets, looks around for it. “Room,” Eddie supplies, and Steve gratefully peck his cheek before jogging to their room, where it’s laying on his nightstand. Eddie walks in as he answers it, having followed at a more sedate pace. “Hello?”

“Are you going to the reunion?”

“Hey, Robbie,” Steve chuckles, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, we are.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “You’re the best, we’re getting joint hotel rooms, right?”

He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s Hawkins, Robs, I don’t think it has anything quite that fancy.”

Robin groans, loud and long enough that both Steve and Eddie have to stifle their giggles. “But I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“It’s been barely a week, Robbie.”

“That’s what I said!”

He relents. “I know. I miss you too. We’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and hangs up.

Steve looks at Eddie, amused. “I guess we’d better pack. And you should tell the guys, don’t you have something going on that day?”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, and runs to the living room for his phone.

Steve surveys their room and sighs. He calls out to Eddie, “bring me a notepad on your way back, please!”

Eddie does, so he sets to work making a list for everything they need to pack while Eddie types away, postponing his plans.

While they might not get joint hotel rooms, Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy are carpooling back to Hawkins in Robin’s van. She’s driving, Nancy’s in the passenger seat, Steve’s right behind Robin and Eddie’s right behind Nancy. Their luggage is piled precariously in the back, meaning every time Robin turns, the luggage slides from one side of the van to the other. Steve, with his mostly-undiagnosed OCD, flinches every time. And every time, Eddie pats his hand.

Besides the shifting suitcases, it’s a nice ride, even if Steve does grab Eddie’s hand and squeeze, just a hair tightly, whenever they pass the Welcome to Hawkins! sign.

Everyone gets a little quiet, after that. Robin fumbles with the radio, and Eddie perks up. “This song,” he says, practically bouncing in his seat.

Steve snorts. “Iron Maiden,” he tells her.

“The fact that you know that-”

“It gets worse,” he tells her, grinning. “The song is called Wasted Years. I know all the words.”

Robin grins, turns the volume up.

The joke’s really on her, though, because she’s always been good at music, patterns, and she’s singing the chorus with him and Eddie by the time they get to the end of the song, Nancy laughing at them. “So understand,” they sing, Robin glancing in the rearview mirror, Steve looking from her to Eddie and back again. “Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make this stand. And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

Steve and Eddie are practically screaming it at each other by the last line. Robin’s given up to join Nancy in laughing at them. Steve joins in as Eddie plays air guitar to the end of the song, collapsing in a laugh when it’s finally over.

“Okay,” Eddie says, grinning. “I think I could take on anything now.”

“Yeah?” Nancy asks, pointing ahead. “You’re ready for the reunion?”

They’d decided, since the last time they took a proper road trip had been too many years ago, they could do it the same day as the reunion.

They’d forgotten how getting old, coupled with the problems every one of them still has from the Upside Down, means they’re all very much sore from sitting in a car for upwards of five hours.

The plan was drive the five-something hours, go to the reunion, crash in the hotel, and drive back home the next day.

Steve hates the plan now and wants to go to the hotel to rest like the old man he’s letting himself be.

However unfortunate it may be, the reunion is today, which means Steve gets to suck it up, say hi to people he probably doesn’t even remember anymore, and then leave.

He hops out of the car and stretches a little, laughing when Eddie attempts the same hop out of the car and almost eats asphalt. “Dumbass,” he mutters. Eddie shoots him a Cheshire grin.

Before long they’re ready to walk inside. Steve takes a breath as he passes through the doors. The hallways are the same, but the lockers are new. It still smells like teenagers and feet, he notices, wrinkling his nose. The things you’ll get nose-blind to, he supposes.

The letters they’d gotten said the reunion was to be held in the gym, so that’s where they head.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a few snack tables along the edge of the room and a single Reunion of ‘85 banner. “Goddamn,” Eddie says from beside him, “depressing much?”

Steve snorts in agreement and walks over to the drink table. If he’s going to talk to people, he’s at least going to have questionable-looking punch while he does.

When he turns after getting punch, he nearly runs into someone. He quickly steps back. “Oh, sorry!” He looks up into the shocked face of Tommy Hagan. He blinks. “Tommy?”

“Steve.”

Steve smiles. “How’ve you been?”

Tommy blinks, like he can’t believe Steve’s being nice to him right now, and that’s when Steve remembers they’d parted on not-so-nice terms. Oh well, he would’ve feigned politeness even if he’d remembered. “I’m good, yeah, uh, how- how’re you?”

“I’m good,” Steve agrees. “Really good. Last I remember you and Carol were dancing around each other, yeah? What happened there?”

“We got married,” Tommy nods.

“Congratulations!”

“And then divorced two years later,” Tommy adds, smirking. Steve winces. “How about you? Last I knew, it was you and Wheeler, ‘cept she cheated on you with Byers, yeah?”

“God,” Steve laughs, “that was so long ago. Yeah, that happened. We talked it through and Nance and I are really good friends now. She’s married to someone else, as am I, but we both keep in touch with Jon, thought he’s out in California now.”

Tommy’s brow raises. “Married? Who’s the lucky girl?”

A presence beside him makes Steve turn to see Eddie grinning at him. “My ears are burning.”

“They should be,” he laughs. “Tommy, you remember Eddie?”

“Munson,” Tommy nods, then does a double take. “Wait, you’re married?”

“As of three years ago now,” Eddie says proudly. “But together for…”

“Thirty-seven years,” Steve provides, smiling at his husband before turning back to Tommy. “Did you ever get remarried after Carol?” Tommy shakes his head.

Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, “You know he totally had the hots for you, right?”

Steve winces at the blast of static from his hearing aid and quickly shuts it off. “Ow,” he mutters, grinning crookedly at Eddie, who looks apologetic. He quickly signs what he’d whispered, and Steve laughs. “Don’t you remember my initial panic?”

Eddie thinks, back to when Steve had asked him what’s gay versus friendly, becoming increasingly confused when most of the things Eddie ticked off in the gay category were things Steve and Tommy had done that Steve had thought firmly resided in the friendly category. “Oh, yeah.”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, pushes him away. “Go talk to someone else. Rescue Robin, she looks like she needs it.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “she can hold her own,” but goes anyways after a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. Steve turns the hearing aid back on.

“Man,” Tommy says wonderingly, “what happened to you?”

“Concussions,” Steve answers flatly. “Three of ‘em. Then I grew up.” He sighs, looks down at his cup, then up at Tommy. “Listen, man, about what we used to do-”

Tommy winces. “I know. I had that revelation a while ago, actually, but it was definitely shitty of me.”

Steve smiles, shrugs. “You had a crush on me. It’s not an excuse, but it does make a certain kind of sense you’d react that way, especially considering the kind of home life you had.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Feel free to stop listening if the therapist side of me comes out. I swear I’m not trying to, like, diagnose you with anything.”

Tommy’s brows raise. “You’re a therapist?”

Steve hums affirmatively. “Started as a school counselor, if you can believe that.”

Tommy fixes him with a wondering grin. “Y’know? I think I can see it.”

“Do my eyes deceive me,” someone says from their side, draping their arms across Steve and Tommy’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug.

Steve comes face-to-face with Carol. He grins. “Hey, Carol.”

“Hey, you,” she says, raking her eyes over him. “Time’s been good to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Steve says happily, but its true; she doesn’t look a day over forty, instead of the fifty-odd she is now. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” she agrees.

They go through the same song-and-dance, but this time when she asks who he’s married to, he sees Eddie juggling water bottles, talking to a couple of people. “Oh, for-” he mutters, then louder, “Eddie, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

Eddie drops a bottle, puts the other two on the table behind him, and jogs over to throw his weight onto Steve. “Making friends.”

Steve snorts, elbows him off. “Say hi to Carol, babe.”

Carol clocks it immediately, based on the twitch of her eyebrow, but only says, “I didn’t peg you two as a couple.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie snorts, “it was Bumfuck, Indiana in the 80’s.”

Carol tilts her head in agreement, then turns to Tommy and says coolly, “Tommy.”

“Carol,” he replies, tips of his ears red.

Eddie looks between them, then turns a raised eyebrow on Steve, who quickly signs, “Married for two years a while ago. I don’t know any details.”

“He clearly is still into her.”

“I refuse to be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

Eddie pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Carol clears her throat. “Sign language?”

Steve snorts. “Turns out brains aren’t supposed to get banged around. You’ve got a real good chance of messing something up that way.”

Eddie pokes his cheek. “‘S not your fault.”

“Never said it was,” Steve placates.

Carol shakes her head. “How many concussions do you have?”

Steve hums. “Three? Four?”

“Three,” Eddie corrects. “Not that we need to get into it right now.” He gives Carol a tight smile, and Steve hip-checks him.

“Down, boy,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m alright.” He turns to Carol with a wider smile. “Long story short, the concussions caused irreparable hearing loss. I’m almost completely deaf in my left ear, but I get by.”

“Damn,” Carol says lightly, “life, huh?”

Steve snorts. “You can say that again.” He tilts his head. “How are you?” He asks. “Really?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “Let’s walk and talk.” Steve offers her his arm, which she takes with a laugh.

“How am I,” she muses. “Well I thought I found love, but we imploded two years later. Thank god for prenups, I guess, but at the same time, that made it feel like we were doomed from the start.”

Steve hums. “Eddie and I have been legally married for three years,” he tells her. “Together for thirty-seven. We’ve got prenups. Not because we think we won’t work, but because we want the people we care about to not have to worry about any of that.” He’s silent for a few steps. “I used to think love is out of our control. That we don’t get to decide who we fall for. And maybe, to a certain extent, that’s true. But love is also a choice you make every day. Eddie and I are still in love because we choose to be.”

“You look at each other like you’re on your honeymoon.”

Steve giggles. “And to think we didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

Carol laughs, too, then sobers. “You always were more fortunate in love,” she says. “What do you think? Do we have a chance?”

Steve hums. “I think it’s obvious, just by looking at him, that he’s still into you.”

“No shit.”

“So what’s important is how you feel. Marriage is work, I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not. So are you ready, and I mean really ready, to work for it?”

She works her lower lip. “I think so,” she admits. “But I- I’m also not completely sure I’m straight.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “Do you know what he and I used to get up to?” He shrugs at her look. “I’m just saying, neither is he.”

“I mean, I definitely still like guys.”

“Well duh, you’ve taken more dick than I have and I’m married to a man.”

She snorts. “But women…”

“I know,” Steve says sympathetically. “It’s hard, isn’t it.” He pats her hand. “If you’re ready to try, though, you need to talk to him.” He turns her around, gestures toward Tommy, who quickly looks away, cheeks burning. They both laugh softly.

Carol leans up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Steve. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Let’s actually keep in touch,” he agrees, handing her his phone. “Where do you live?”

“Columbus for now, but he’s in Dayton.”

Steve hums. “We’re in Detroit.”

“We’ll do phone calls,” Carol decides, laughing.

Steve chuckles, saves her number. “Plan to meet up-”

“Never actually do-”

“Oh, Carol, it’s been so long-”

They both break off into giggles. “You’re fun,” she decides. “I wish we’d kept in touch.”

“To be fair, we competed for title of bitchiest.”

“To be fair, I don’t think we ever grew out of that,” Carol retorted, and Steve snorts, gently shoving her.

“Alright, go get your man, and send mine over here.”

She gently steps on his shoe as she leaves, impish smile in place, and Steve turns only to run into Nancy and Robin. “Hey, guys,” he smiles.

Nancy gives him a look. “Making nice with Carol?”

Steve shrugs, grins at her. “Turns out we were just kids. Who knew, right?”

Just then, Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’re we talking about?”

Nancy smiles at him, wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. “Being kids.”

“That so?” He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, pushes back to look at him. “You look lighter.”

Steve hums. “‘S cause I love you.”

“Charmer,” Eddie mutters, turning bright red. “C’mon, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Steve agrees. “I was talking with Carol about her and Tommy, and I told her that why we work is because we work at it.”

“Very true.”

From behind them, someone cautiously asks, “Eddie Munson?”

They both turn, and suddenly Eddie’s scooping her up in a hug. “Ronnie! What the hell are you doin’ here, huh?”

She laughs and hugs him back just as hard. “Did you ever know a Jackson Starnes?”

Eddie’s brow furrows for a second, then smooths out. “Oh, Jackie! Yeah, he was cool.”

“Mhm. He’s my husband.”

“No shit? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, then nods at everyone else. “Who’s the hunk you were hangin’ off of?”

Eddie chuckles. “Ronnie, meet my husband, Steve.”

She turns an eyebrow on him. “You got married?”

“He proposed,” Steve corrects her, grinning.

“To the preppiest of jocks,” Robin adds.

Eddie laughs. “What can I say? It’s love.” He swoons, placing a hand over his chest, almost pulling Ronnie over with the arm still over her shoulder.

She laughs and dumps him off of her. Steve swoops in before he can fall, hoisting him up with a quick kiss.

“I’m Nancy,” she says, extending her hand to Ronnie. “And this is my wife Robin.”

“Oh!” Eddie says, literally jumping back into the conversation. “Robin and Steve are like how we were.”

“Platonic soulmates,” Steve agrees.

“With a capital P,” Robin emphasizes.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ronnie says.

“How’s Wayne?” She asks Eddie.

“Dead.” He snickers at her face. “‘S alright, Ronnie. It’s been years.”

“Still. I can be sorry.”

“You can,” he agrees. “It won’t help anything, but you can.” He digs his phone out of his pockets, opens his contacts app. “Here, lemme get your number, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ronnie says, “let’s hang out, just lemme know when so I can get a sitter.”

Eddie chokes on nothing. “You have a kid?”

Ronnie grins, a shit-eating thing as she hands his phone back. “Three.”

“Goddamn,” he says, “you got pictures?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, grabs her phone. “What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t? Here, this is Cassie, Alex, and… that’s Elijah.”

“Oh, man, Alex looks just like Jackie, doesn’t he?”

“I carry him for nine months,” Ronnie bitches good-naturedly. “‘Nough about me, though, how’re you? Corroded Coffin ever take off?”

Eddie snorts. “You hear about the psychopath in ‘86?”

“I remember something about it.”

“Yeah. I got caught in the crossfires, wrongfully blamed, and spent…” he looks at Steve. “A year?”

“Almost.”

He turns back to Ronnie. “Almost a year hiding out. Corroded Coffin was officially disbanded after I was allowed out of hiding.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie says, “there goes my entire foot in my mouth, I guess. What’re you doing now, then?”

He chuckles. “A little bit of everything, honestly. A little music, a little writing, a little D&D. Nothing that’s made me a household name, but enough that I’m kept busy and we’re comfortable.”

Ronnie nods. “And how about you?” She asks Steve.

“Oh, nothing as fun as that,” Steve chuckles. “I’m a therapist.”

Ronnie tilts her head. “Any specialties?”

“C-PTSD, mainly.”

“Damn, I know about eight people who could use someone like you.”

Steve snorts. “That’s usually the way it goes, yeah.”

“Well it was great seeing you, Eddie,” Ronnie says. “And meeting all the rest of you. But I’ve got to find my husband and get back home, so we’ll have to continue this later.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” Ronnie nods, then turns and walks off.

They decide to leave not too much later. They’re all tired, so the drive to the hotel is filled with only the sound of the radio, turned almost all the way down.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the ring on Steve’s finger, “she was my first kiss.”

Steve snorts, an explosive thing that he definitely learned from Robin. “She what?”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “I knew I liked girls, but she’s the only one I got close enough to to actually know. We got stupid one night and decided to kiss and it basically went how it would if you and Robin were to kiss.”

“Ew,” Steve says on reflex. Eddie snorts.

Robin slaps at him from her seat, then yells when he slaps back, “Don’t distract the driver!”

“Bitch,” he tells her, “you slapped first!”

“You said ew about kissing me!”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I said it!”

Eddie leans up to murmur to Nancy, “should we break it up?”

“Eh, give it a minute. Once they resort to cursing their lineages we can break it up.”

He chuckles. “Always the wise one, Wheeler.”

“You’d best believe it,” she nods smugly.

“Nancy!” Robin says. “Baby! Defend me!”

“About kissing Steve? Who I’ve kissed before?”

“Oh, no,” Robin says, horrified. “I’m stuck in the car with the two people who are experts on Steve kissing.”

“Why’d you make it sound like a bad thing?” Steve demands.

And… yeah. Eddie’s glad they got separate hotel rooms.

Based on the look Nancy throws his way when they part, she’s glad, too.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

They’re going to form a union!

[thestobingirlie]

mean girls trio pt. 4 <3

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thank you for the tags @scoops-aboy86 and @endlessmusings1801!

Okay so hear me out. This was a worm I’ve been thinking about lately, which is bizarre, because it isn’t inherently Steddie…

But we get all kinds of fics of if Eddie and/or Robin were pulled into things earlier than their seasons. But…

What if Tommy and Carol were pulled into things with Steve? Like, picture it…

Instead of ditching Steve after his fight with Jonathan, Steve and Tommy and Carol hash it out a bit more, get into a bigger argument maybe even, and maybe they do separate for a bit. But then they’re still friends, so maybe they huff and puff about it but they talk things out too. Maybe Steve even gets to somewhat convince them that they should all apologize, even if Tommy and Carol don’t really want to or care all that much.

So all three of them go to do so, and all three of them see the demogorgon, and all three of them have that life altering paradigm shift. Maybe Carol and Tommy don’t change completely, at least not immediately, but they’re forced to confront that there’s more than just high school popularity contests, and maybe they become just that little bit of better people.

Maybe Carol and Nancy have a genuine talk, genuinely open up to each other, and no one can ever replace Barb of course, but it’s nice to have another female friend, even if they’re pretty much polar opposites.

Tommy isn’t fond of Jonathan at all, because demogorgon aside, it was creep behavior taking photos of them like that. Tommy helps pitch in to get Jonathan his new camera though, because he egged on Steve’s insecurities (brought on by the fact that Steve’s dad has cheated on his mom so he’s really sensitive to potential cheating in partners) and he guesses he’s partly to blame. He rolls his eyes about it, but Steve is happy he has his friend beside him still.

Tommy and Carol don’t really take to the kids much, but Carol does secretly enjoy getting into bitching sessions with Mike, and later Erica.

When Billy shows up, maybe Tommy and Carol start backsliding. Maybe they have to have a big blowup. Maybe they aren’t there when Steve gets dragged in helping Dustin, at least not immediately, but maybe they hear about Steve dealing with that without them because they chose Billy and they just…they…

They can’t believe they left Steve to deal with that horror by himself. They feel guilty and terrible and they tell Billy off. They can’t believe they chose some stupid popularity that doesn’t even matter over the guy that literally went to bat for them. They’re at the end with him, apologizing for not being there before, and they become even better people.

They come around to lovingly tease Steve at his job at Scoops, wheedling free ice cream out of him. And who knows, maybe telling Billy off changes the third season, maybe them being there, better people and supportive of Steve changes things, maybe the three of them can even change Billy to an extent. Maybe, Steve and Tommy and Carol and Billy hashing it all out and coming to terms with the toxicity of high school and judgemental parents and a society that believes you need to be a certain way to matter…maybe it changes things for the better.

Idk. I’ve just always wondered how things would have gone if Tommy and Carol had been exposed to the truth the first season.

And then blah blah blah, Steve and Eddie eventually fuck about it. Because I am nothing if not a Steddie truther in everything. And who knows…maybe Robin and Carol fuck about it also 😏

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Co-Hostage tag for this: @katyawriteswhump

No pressure participation tag: @stervrucht (I know you’ve been tagged already but lmao I’m tagging YOU first this time anyways lmaoooo) @fkinkindagauche @steddiecameraroll @henderdads @queenie-ofthe-void

[formosusiniquis]

have your cake

So way back in August 2023 the steddiemicrofic challenge was Cake and 311 words, my head empty brain came up with one thought and it was Steve Munson having a bakery called Mun's Buns and so many months later I finally got around to finishing my vision

Ships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins; implied/past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins WC: 6408 | T | tags: Future Fic, the lightest of post homoerotic friendship breakup angst, fluff, Tommy POV AO3

The bakery has a stupid name, is the first thing Tommy thinks when Carol tells him where he's supposed to meet her on his lunch break. He’s still thinking that, when he sees the place for the first time through his rain speckled windshield. It's a modest storefront, small for what Carol says is a booming business, tucked in next to a used bookstore and a music shop. There's a baby yellow awning hanging from the front just underneath a sign lettered in soft blue that reads Mun's Buns.

He's late, is the second thing he thinks after pulling up. Caught up in some stupid bullshit for his dad he hadn't managed to slip away until 12:30. Even then it had only been because Tommy had told him he was going to be late for their cake tasting. He'd rolled his eyes when his father and Greg, a guy that Tommy only considers a co-worker in the sense that they are technically on the same payroll since Greg in every other aspect is incompetent and an idiot, had winced. Shooing him away like a kid who'd just admitted that he's already twenty minutes past curfew. But catching sight of the way Carol has her arms crossed, tapping her foot fast enough to kickstart a motor, while her hair hangs limp in a way that it hadn’t this morning a third thought crosses his mind: maybe he should have been a little more worried.

Waiting isn’t going to make things any better. So he steps out of the car, let’s the misty damp cling to him in a way that makes his dress pants and button down feel like a poorly tailored second skin, and takes his licks like a man. "Late, thirty minutes late. Christ, it's the only thing I've asked from you Tommy." Her right hook stings just as badly as it did sophomore year when she punched him for asking out Erin Murphy instead of her.

Shit like that is probably why no one expected them to make it this long or this far.

When they went away to college; different schools, hours apart. His parents had been gleeful as they'd warned him that high school relationships didn't always last. That he should keep his options open, he didn't want to miss out on the love of his life just because of comfort. He didn't get offered the family ring when he decided to propose right after graduation. Carol has always been particular. Wanted the house to come back to before the wedding could happen, wanted a long honeymoon. That meant saving, a lot of it. Tommy knew and Carol did too, they'd overheard his mother and aunt gossiping in too loud voices after too much wine that they hoped the long engagement meant they were both trying to figure out a good way to break it off with one another. 

Still, over the course of their now five year engagement no one's asked once if they wanted to trade for it.

Carol thought it was horrendous anyway. She’d had her ring picked out since ‘85, styled her class ring so it would look like the oval cut diamond she wanted. Had him slide it on her finger the second it came in.

Cause in the politest of terms, Carol could be a raging bitch. She was Tommy's favorite person in the entire world.

There’s going to be a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, even if she’s guiltily smoothing a hand down his arm now. Thrust toward the door first in offering, Carol is sorry she hit him but she’s not apologetic. “I’m serious, Tom, if we lose this appointment and have to go with Sweet Treats for our cake I'll- I'll-"

Whatever threat she was preparing is drowned out and then cut off by the echoing TONG of the door chime. A light in the back shifts color for a second, out of place enough that he wonders if he even really saw it. Head tilting toward Carol, his question catches in his throat when he notices her pinched off appraising. Better not to add to the ammunition she might already be building.

And if Carol is looking he better do it too. She'll want to debrief when they're having dinner tonight, just like they did with the florist, the caterer, the three wedding planners they'd met with, and each of the venues that they'd visited. And it wasnt because she was demanding, fuck you Greg. It wasn't because she was being nitpick-y, alright it was a little bit because she was but he liked being particular with her. He liked being involved in his wedding.

So he looked around.

The way they utilized their space -- a building that big and there's barely enough room to stand, we want someone who knows how to work with limited space for the venues we're looking at -- was the reason their first wedding planner hadn't gotten hired. Small, but not cramped. There are a handful of tables scattered in the open space in front of the counter. It’s the kind of small town cozy that Hawkins had tried for and he doesn’t see very often anymore now that they’ve moved out to Indianapolis.

It’s lunchtime, still too early for people to be seeking out the rows of deserts in their neat glass counter and too late for the breakfast crowd. But one of the tables is occupied by a teenager with long, black braids scribbling in a notebook while a slice of ice cream cake melts on a plate by her elbow. 

Everything was neat, organized, and compliant with health code regulations -- they hadn’t even made it in the door of the first caterer’s when she noticed a trail of ants and roaches marching into the open kitchen door.

Carol had always been quick when she was making up her mind about something. Like those Sherlock Holmes stories they’d had to read in school, in a couple of seconds she could spot everything she needed to make a decision. After a decade Tommy still couldn’t keep up; but he was always best at following someone else’s lead.

The smile she’s got frosted across her face is as sugary and fake as the roses on the cupcakes he can see behind the low topped counters as she approaches the only visible staff member. A girl, young in the way that nebulous way anyone younger than him was now, with thick squared glasses that magnified two distressingly blue eyes. The counters looked like they were designed to sit low enough that she could easily see over the top while in her wheelchair.

“Welcome to,” her customer service tone borders on bored. Two words into a clear script and she sighs, as if saying the name physically pains her, “Mun’s Buns. We’ve got a special series of summer flavors: Strawberry Lemonade, Lavender Mint, Chocolate Fudgsicle, and,” she sighs again, “for the grownups a boozy Blue Moon with orange zest.”

“How about a wedding cake.” He’s impressed. Carol made it through the speech without interrupting.

“Do you have an appointment?” the girl raises her voice, enough to make them both flinch back. Customer service isn’t a requirement for this part of the job necessarily, but Carol had bailed on two venues because the staff hadn’t been polite enough.

Her smile doesn’t crack though, “Yes.”

Even though he’s pretty sure this girl has to be basically blind with the inch thick frames, she levels Carol with a lethal stare. “Not you.”

From the open entryway behind her Tommy had been able to make out what sounded like the highlights of yesterday’s game. He assumed that space had to be the kitchen where these rows of deserts were made. He’s still surprised when a guy’s voice is shouting back, “I don't know, Max, do I? Why don't you check?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Max shouts back, glowering at then in stand in for her mystery boss.

“With your finger, asshole. It's in braille. When I gave you this job you said you were actually gonna work.”

“Douchebag." Her eyes never leave them, while her hands rummage around in a space beneath the counter where the cash register sits. Max offers no explanation or apology for her shouting or for her boss. A large red appointment book gets slammed down on the nearest counter, making Carol jump but the neat two by twos of chocolate frosted cupcakes don't budge. He watches, a little fascinated by the way her finger scans the page before slowing. "Did you write this or did Dustin?"

Carol has always valued gossip over professionalism, he thinks that’s why she’s done so well as a hairdresser even though she was always awful at chemistry. It’s also why he’s held off from pointing out that they could solve this a lot faster if this guy would come out from the back. "Why?" 

“Cause one of you can't spell and one of you is trying to invent braille shorthand. So I'm not really sure what to do with TomGan Wed.”

“It might be Thomas and Wedding.” Carol leans over the appointment book as she says it, using a tone of voice he has never once heard her use in the entire time he’s known her. He thinks it’s supposed to be helpful.

“Wedding sampler.” The girl calls toward the back, “It's getting late.”

“I’ve got it,” the voice from the back shouts back.There’s an effortless assurance Tommy can hear from where he’s standing. It hits him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he grabs Carol’s arm on instinct.

“Really,” she says, cutting her gaze over to him. He’s not sure what she sees. “If we could hurry this along, it's just we've only got an hour.”

“You're late.” The glare she gets shuts Carol down faster than he’s ever seen.

“Right.”

“Okay I've got it.” The voice from the back is now the voice in the doorway. Hidden for a second by a serving tray loaded with samples of rich looking cake, it’s the first time since arriving that Tommy has actually wanted to be here. Not just because he can make out strong shoulders and a body of a man that’s still very fit but clearly enjoys his work too; the hint of love handles above strong thighs. Only then that tray dips, and for the first time since 1985 Tommy finds himself looking at the shocked hazel eyes of Steve Harrington. “Oh.”

Carol reacts for him, taking in a breath sharp enough she might puncture a lung. They’ll both wind up suffocated on the floor of this stupid bakery with an awful name, because Tommy can’t manage to breathe at all looking at Steve. Still unfairly handsome, faintly pink at the shock of seeing them too he imagined.

His hair is long, is the first real thought his half fried brain manages to put together. Soft looking even where it’s damp at the temples where sweat has pooled. He has it pulled back with a couple of the same butterfly clips that Carol likes to use.

His second, somehow more hysterical thought: this wasn’t how Steve Harrington was supposed to be included in his wedding.

Tommy was six years old and knew he wanted to marry Steve. When he’d told his mom -- to ask for her ring, Steve thought it was romantic like princes and princesses that they had a special ring that they got married with -- she’d grabbed by his arm so hard it’d left finger shaped bruises. So he’d held that certainty quiet in his heart until he was ten, and suddenly it was okay to want to play with girls on the playground -- he thinks it’s because Steve got tired of there never being an even number when they tried to play kickball, he had a way of making everyone want to do the thing he was. Carol wasn’t afraid to tell Tommy C. that he was dumb or to tell Mark L. that he hadn’t actually made it to the base, Steve liked her fast. Too fast, and Tommy had to tell her that one day he was going to be able to keep Steve all to himself. But he knew that it wasn’t right to say that now, even if he wasn’t all the way sure why it wasn’t. He was ten, but he would be eleven soon, and he took this part of him that he’d kept secret for so long and he whispered it to Carol under the slide while Steve tried to convince Brad P. that he could too pick two people for his kickball team first.

He was ten and Carol said they could share. Boys can’t marry boys, but girls can. So they could both marry her and live together forever.

It became a joke when they finally shared it with Steve, thirteen and boys going out with girls wasn’t funny the way it used to be. Sarah Jane asked Carol if she had a chance at going steady with Steve. She told Tommy about it later and they both told Steve that he was too good to date any of the girls in their grade. “Well I’ve got you guys,” his voice cracked when he said it, throwing an arm around both of them. Carol didn’t care as much, but even she’d noticed the way Steve was changing from boyish to handsome.

They were sixteen and disaster was just around the corner, not that he knew that. Steve dated around but he always came back to them. The head, the heart, the body. They don’t feel complete without each other -- at least Tommy doesn’t. Mr. Kripke, who was hungover more often than he wasn't, passed out ten minutes into study hall. Carol didn’t even wait to see if he’d wake back up before she left her assigned table for theirs. She smoothed out a lined piece of notebook paper for them, and Tommy scoffed like he was supposed to. “Aren’t we a little old to be playing MASH?”

“It’s dirty MASH, and I thought you’d think it was funny.”

“I think it’s funny,” Steve had said, “that you’re getting eiffel towered on your wedding night. Who else is joining in, Carrie?”

“We couldn’t agree on who got you for their side of the aisle. So we’re taking you to bed instead.”

He was sixteen and the way that the two of them looked when they shared a joke was the hottest thing in the world. The way their smiles mirror when they turned to him, sharp and ready to flay open the softest parts of him.

Tommy’s two days older when Steve lets him kiss the taste of Carol out of his mouth.

It was three days after he turned seventeen and he had to pretend he didn't want to die when he saw how Steve looked at Nancy Wheeler. Like he didn’t want to rip his hair out because Steve was fucking infatuated with this mousy little teacher’s pet and wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

He still doesn’t like to think about the breakup. He pokes it like a fresh bruise. Less often now, but when he does he digs his fingers in. Baits Carol into fights he doesn’t mean just so he can pretend like he hasn’t lost something that hurts like a limb.

Steve Harrington turns twenty-eight next week, and he’s standing in front of them both holding pieces of what might turn into their wedding cake.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re in Indy!” False excitement grates, but at least Carol has gotten herself together enough to speak. He thought he’d have at least another few months to prepare for the thought of seeing Steve, by their ten year reunion he was going to be married and happy and over it.

“Yeah, this is- Married, wow! I kinda can’t believe you haven’t already.” He says it to Carol, his platitudes had always been for Carol, but his eyes find Tommy. 

While Carol chatters at them and for them both, nervous, he knows she’s nervous. The situation is sudden and strange and fraught. But Tommy just looks at Steve, who looks at him. He’s getting married in three months, one week, and two days from now and for the first time in eleven years Steve is looking at him.

"Takes a while to save up for when you want the best of everything. Dad's still the skinflint he always was, I think he'd pay me less than minimum wage if he could get away with it."

And those soft brown eyes look so sad, looking at him. Sometimes he thinks no one will ever understand him the way that Steve did.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting the best, or having a long engagement." Carol defends. It's the same line she's been giving everyone. Defensive of him and herself and the choices they've been making. He can't believe Steve is someone she thinks they have to defend against.

“I really hope you're happy, man," he says, and the sincerity is a balm on the sting of this conversation. He pushes his hair back from his face, the way he always has when he's uncomfortable and trying not to make it obvious. And there's a fresh new hurt when Tommy catches sight of a plain gold band on Steve's finger, shining bright between the golden highlights of his hair.

“I’m happy about this,” he can say honestly. Carol is one of the only things he’s ever been sure about. She held him steady as she could when his other sure thing left him with a cracked foundation in a convenience store parking lot. “What about you? How long after meeting the future Mrs. Harrington did you wait to put a ring on her finger?”

“Tommy,” Carol chides as the teen in the corner snorts. To anyone else it would sound like a reprimand for being nosy, he, and he suspects Steve, knows she’s telling him to stop worrying a scab that has no hope of healing right.

Married and they didn’t know. Wouldn’t have found out until the reunion. It’s not like he expected an invitation, maybe an engagement announcement sent to their parents’ houses. They’d sent one to Loch Nora when the real ring had finally made it to Carrie’s finger. It was equal parts olive branch and offering. They’d gotten it back return to sender with no forwarding address.

The bell above the door tongs again, loud enough to make Carol jump. The platter of cakes doesn't shift at all in Steve’s hand. His arm shows no sign of fatigue. It’s almost distracting enough that he misses the obvious. The bell signals someone is coming into the store.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.

“Munson?” Carol has the reflexes and the personal grace to address him first. Shock more than the disgust it might have been when they were still kids.

Tommy feels like a kid still. Looks to Steve in an instinct he’d thought he’d stamped out years ago, only to be met with wide eyes and teeth grit tight enough to draw out the square line of his jaw.

“Christ, I still get nightmares that start like this.” Munson says, eye darting between the three of them. “Max, am I naked?”

“Don't know, don't wanna know.”

“I thought you'd be able to tell by the energy in the room.” He wiggles his fingers, still bedecked in silver, like they can divine the vibrations or some witchy shit.

That’s enough to make Steve break just a little. A soft, exhaling scoff before he finally starts to move out from the counter. Tommy catches, and he doubts Carol misses it either, how Steve passes the closer tables to set his tray down between them and Munson.

“I can tell I don't want to be here for this.” Their redheaded audience member says, “I'm taking my 15.”

“Don't go harass Mike, he's finally working,” Munson says.

“Will and El are on shift on the other side,” Steve calls out, not looking at any of them as he moves cakes from his tray to the table. A deliberate selection he seems to be making.

“Whatever, I’m gonna call Lucas and break up with him so he can play better or whatever.”

“Don’t be too harsh,” Munson calls out, “I’ve only got him on a five point spread.”

If Carol’s nails break from how hard they’re digging into his arm, somehow it’ll be Tommy’s fault. Not the fact that they’ve advanced the worst part of their ten year reunion by months, and also Munson is here and knows shit about basketball.

“Sorry, think my hearing’s going, sounded like you said you want him to lose and he’s getting kicked from the next one shot. I’ll let him know.”

“She gets that from you,” Steve and Munson say in sync. Glaring playfully at one another the way Steve used to with Carol.

“I’ll tell Robin you were-”

“Do not sick Buckley on me, Max made the deaf joke not me.”

“Weird, that’s not what I heard.” Steve has always claimed his hair as his best feature. It isn’t -- Carrie liked his eyes, Tommy his hands -- but it’s hard to deny that it doesn’t look good, flipping over his shoulder. His smile is private, just for Munson, soft the way he got whenever he picked up a new girl. Carrie taps the back of his hand, two sharp smacks, their signal for years that he needed to pay attention and notice something she had. Wide, nervous eyes dart to Steve -- like he hadn’t already been looking at Steve -- so he does his best to assess the way Carol would.

Jealous, viciously, Steve had been theirs in every way that mattered since they were ten years old and Carol had never liked sharing her toys with anyone but them. She watched his face for any sign of unhappiness anytime a new girlfriend came along, and when she found one she passed it along to him. So he could pick and joke until Steve was all theirs again.

So he checked the face. Tried to ignore the way Steve was lit up from the inside out with a joy he could barely remember, and then he saw the hearing aid.

He tapped back, three times. O.M.G.

“The 1985 Homecoming court here to reveal that this has all been a long con, Stevie?”

“Yeah I faked the name change paperwork and picked up a fake ID, sorry I took my business somewhere else.” Steve says it with the sincerity he’s always made those kind of jokes with, his strange sense of humor never coming across when he always sounded so serious. 

Munson gets it though, snorts loud and ugly, before a smile pulls wide across half his face the otherside taught with a gnarly scar. “Now I know why my fake ID business went belly up when we got to the city, not like I only sold three in high school.”  He gestures to the three of them in a wide arc.

Sophomores, they had decided it was time to throw their first real party now that Steve’s parents had moved out of Hawkins in all but name. Steve was a latchkey kid of new proportions and took to self sufficiency in a way that had seemed adult to him then; and in hindsight looked more like a child fighting for his life. Steve bragged how he’d been saving up the weekly checks they’d sent to ‘sustain him’ while they worked in the city during the week. His contribution to Tommy and Carol’s vague plan to throw a kegger by the pool. When they’d floundered, immediately, with the hows, Steve had been the one to suggest going to Munson.

“Love this preview of the reunion,” Carol cuts in, there’s no bite but Munson bristles anyway like she’s being rude for reminding them that there are customers present. “Steve?”

It’s funny, Tommy thinks, the way Steve still straightens his back at Carol’s tone. All this time and he can’t fight the old ingrained instincts either.

“Dustin made the appointment,” Steve apologizes, even as he’s posture perfect and preparing his pastries. The unsaid, ‘I definitely wouldn’t have’ doesn’t go unheard and it doesn’t sting any less even this far from their last interaction.

“Munson could join us,” Tommy offers, a new olive branch since their last one was never seen. Even if it does raise three sets of brows and makes Carrie’s nervous smile tighten even more in the corner of her mouth.

“Well at least one of us has to,” Munson, Eddie, says. Just says, tone like it was meant to be something said under his breath.

He's grown up a lot since high school, they both have. Still, he's only got twenty minutes left on his lunch break and it's been a long day. "God, is that why it's called that?" Growth, he doesn't say that Steve Munson sounds a lot dumber than Steve Harrington.

"It's charming," Carol and Steve both say. Though Carrie is definitely lying and Steve barely gets it out from between his gritted teeth, a sore spot. He's always been good at finding Steve's bruises.

"It's charming," Tommy agrees, like he always did when he was out voted.

Eddie has a smirk spread across his face and a ‘too proud of himself’ look in his eyes. Mouth open to make some quip that Tommy is going to pretend is funny, for Steve’s sake. Now that they’re here, he’s going to do something to show that they could talk to one another again. Steve clicks his tongue, taps his index and middle finger down to his thumb two quick times before he can.

He turns to the girl in the corner, "Erica, scram, go help Robin and the kids with the new donation that just came in."

The teen continues to scribble in the notebook in front of her, bulky headphones over her ears, she makes no sign that Tommy can see that she's heard Steve speak. "Erica, go, or I'll tell your mother you moved out of the dorms. You're 20, it's not child labor, and you've got a timecard."

She sighs and wordlessly packs up her things, she gives Steve a scathing look that takes Tommy back to high school. The withering eyebrow and rolled eyes would have been just at home on Steve’s own face in 1985, but she marches behind the counter, the sound of her dish rattling in the sink before she disappears out the same door that the redhead had gone out.

Now that the room has been cleared, an awkward silence has found the space to squeeze in. Munson, the original, still standing in the doorway and Steve standing between his unlawfully wedded husband and the two people who had lost their chance at him years ago.

The wedding and the reunion both on the horizon had dredged up a nostalgia that Tommy and Carol had been dealing with in their own ways. Dredging up old yearbooks, Carol had found a shoebox of old notes that she’d kept. Conversations written in three different inks by three different hands, nonsensical after all this time. Tommy woke up from dreams that he hadn’t had in years. Always of Steve and Carol, a study in opposites, but similar where it mattered.

“Well,” Steve says, taking charge of the situation like he always would when the other two faltered, “you’re here for a reason. We might as well get started on it.”

Steve’s fingerprints are still on them, just like he’d noticed theirs on him, molded as they were together. They’ve always bowed to his expectations, and his whims. When he ushers them to the table with a spread hand, Tommy and Carol go where they’re beckoned.

And so does Munson.

They keep an empty chair between them, an artificial divide for Tommy’s sanity, but with the sprawl of Munson’s legs their knees still occasionally brush together. Carol had taken the spot closest to Steve, who has stayed standing. He is their gracious host, marking the head of the round table.

“I pulled out the full sampler before I realized it was you,” Steve says. Even with as off balance as the interaction has felt, Tommy doesn’t feel his hackles raising. While it’s possible he’s gotten more subtle with his digs, Steve’s vicious tongue was usually unmistakable. “I can tell you about as many of them as you want though if you want to pretend like we don’t already know what I’ll be making you. I’m sure neither of you have eaten lunch yet.”

“You are going to take us on?” Carol asks. Shock always gives her tone an extra edge, defensive and catty, even if she’s really just waiting to see if another shoe will drop.

“Obviously,” Steve says, placing a faintly orange square of cake in front of her. He slaps Eddie’s hand away from another piece without looking away from either of them. “That’s as far as I’ll be going in participation though.”

He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s mouth twitches up with the joke, a filthy smirk that leaves Tommy flushing hot. Too warm to not be a bright and obvious red at the acknowledgment of that old private in-joke.

It doesn’t get better when Carol moans, “Oh my god, Steve!” Even if it is about the cake.

He laughs, and Tommy suspects the two are actually trying to kill him. He chances a glance over at Munson who looks like he doesn’t care at all that his husband has made Tommy’s fiance moan. He is watching Tommy though, an inquisitive look like the one Carol gets when she happens to catch a nature documentary.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with Carol, “I’ll do something small with that citrus cake for you and Tom so you’ve got something you’ll actually eat on your wedding, maybe a pineapple buttercream on top like that nasty Juicy Fruit gum you like so much.”

“I mean it’s really crazy how you’re so good at this when you’ve never had any taste,” Carol compliments, she never did learn how to be nice.

He could probably count Steve’s teeth in the answering smile. Tommy can feel it like an ache in his chest how much he missed this. He snatches another cube of cake off the tray just so has something else to focus on.

“That’s the fancy one for the people who hate their guests,” Munson says as the cake has settled on the flat of Tommy’s tongue.

“It’s lavender,” Steve corrects, and the floral flavor is lodged in the back of his throat at least gives him a reason now to feel so choked up. “And it is for a particular sort of bride.”

“Are you saying I’m not fancy and particular, Munson?” Carol asks. 

She’s obviously talking to Eddie Munson, who lifts his hands up in answer. But it’s Steve who says, “If you tried to feed that to Gail she would leave the reception bitching the whole time.”

“Well go on,” Tommy finds himself goading now that he’s swallowed, “finish calling your shot, Stevie. You said you knew what we were walking out of here with.”

Carol reaches across the table, locking eyes with Eddie as she snags the piece closest to him. The one his fingers had been inching toward like he thought Steve wouldn’t notice him trying to take it.

“I’ll make a small citrus cake for you, Carrie, we’ll hide it in the back of the larger cake so you can get the pictures of you cutting it and smashing into each other's faces-”

“We will not be doing that,” she interrupts, the warning for him and also unnecessary. He already knows how she feels about being embarrassed in public.

“Then the big cake for your guests will be a chocolate cake, I can cover it in a buttercream or a fondant icing also chocolate, because it’s the only kind of cake the Hagan family will eat. Even though I’m sure John hasn’t given you a dime for the wedding, he’ll complain until Hannah gets married if he doesn’t like the cake.”

“Really,” Steve continues, “the only thing up in the air is how many people you were able to get away with not inviting, Care.”

The two of them start talking actual wedding logistics, and as Tommy grabs another bite of cake -- this one looks like it might be a normal flavor -- he figures the real show of good faith would be talking to the only other person at the table while he eats what Steve correctly dubbed his lunch.

“Y’know he never actually answered me,” he says in an undertone.

Munson seems surprised at being spoken to, only widens his eyes in response to Tommy’s unasked question.

“I asked Steve how soon after the first date he proposed, he never actually answered.”

Eddie softens at the edges before he can even say anything. Steve had a way of doing that, bringing out the romantic in a person. He loved with a passion that demanded it be matched. “Technically I proposed to him, but he says it doesn’t count because we weren’t together and I was high on morphine after a major surgery and thought he was Apollo, come to whisk me away.” The smile on Munson’s face looks dopey and drugged up now, like the very memory of whatever hospital stay is so ingrained in his mind he can feel the high now.

“But,” he goes on, “he told me we were getting married whether it was legal or not about three months after he got legally married to another woman.”

“Stop,” Steve has always been able to sense when he’s about to be the butt of the joke. He has a finger pointed at Eddie like a teacher delivering a lecture. “You can’t tell people that. It was for tax reasons, I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“You say tomato, I say whichever one of us is your least favorite has to be the extramarital affair.”

“I say, you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.” Tommy can hear the warm affection behind the insult, the way their picking is a safer way to express their passion for one another.

He thought he would be jealous of whoever finally managed to reel in Steve Harrington for good, and he is. The emotion is there, present in the snarling tangle of emotions that this encounter has left in him. One that he and Carol will have to slowly tease and pick out tonight when they’re home in bed. Trying to make sense of what each thread is and what it means for them. But the one bright pulsing thread he can make sense of is happiness. He’s happy for Steve, happy that he gets to see an old friend so at ease and obviously cared for.

And he’s sad that his time is up, his lunch hour so close to an end he’ll be late getting back to the office. Something he can already hear his Dad and fucking Greg giving him shit for. Which means they have to end their time here.

Steve walks them to the door, flips the sign to mark them closed for lunch.

“Congratulations again, you two,” he says, “I really am happy I can get to be a part of this with you all. Even if it’s a little different than we used to imagine.”

Carol reaches out for the both of them, puts her hand on his arm. Tommy finds that he’s the one who actually says, “We’re glad you found someone who makes you this happy, dude. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s alright most of the time.” It's said with such fondness it becomes a declaration. It’s hard to imagine how they thought they could ever be the something that could make Steve this happy. But maybe in a different life, under different circumstances it could have been.

There’s a minute where they all stand in the doorway. He wonders if they’re all afraid that this might be the last time they see each other, speak to one another, until Steve is delivering the cake on the day of the wedding. Maybe it’s just him, he was the one who pushed back the hardest after things ended.

Someone finally gives in and pushes the door open. It’s TONG a death toll for their current conversation. But it also sends a jolt through Steve, he straightens to his full height like a shock has gone through him. “Here,” he says, “here, um.” He digs around in his apron until he finds a pen and a receipt pad. Jots down something before tearing it off and putting it in Tommy’s hands, “It's our home number, in case you have any cake emergencies or something.”

They really can’t stay any longer.

Carol takes the note, better at keeping track of these things than Tommy is. It’s hard to know if they’ll actually use it, maybe after they talk about it, but if they do she’ll be the one to do it. She’s always been braver than him.

There’s no way of guaranteeing anything but the fact that they’ll have a cake on the table on their wedding day. But he hopes that Steve might stay for the ceremony once he brings it, he can even bring Eddie if that’s what gets him there. 

Alone in his car, Tommy lets himself take a minute to think about Steve Harrington one last time. He isn’t going to get what he wanted as a kid. Doubts that he’ll ever be as close to Steve as he’d been in childhood, too much time has passed and too much has changed.

But there’s an opportunity to get to know Steve Munson, and he isn't going to pass it up. Even if he doesn’t know how to name a bakery.

[devondespresso]

Background details about Tommy and Carol from Season 1, and how they are with conflict

&lt;very much not an all exhaustive list, i just saw this gif with something interesting and pulled up the whole show to look into it>

Now the one i saw was slightly longer, showing carol and tommy's continued reactions, so ofc we had to learn how tf to make gifs so i can show you guys what im talking about (this ones at .75 speed)

Specifically, to include not just their initial reactions, but also the next thoughts.

Lets start with Nicole, the redhead on the far right, who obviously isn't nearly as close to the trio as they are to each other (she's basically only around at school and this scene and doesn't stick around after they run from the cops). She's our control (if this were an experiment), the normal reaction. She's surprised in the entertained way. Steve's girlfriend slapped him, things are getting interesting.

Then Carol, who's probably got my favorite reaction. A similar surprise and "Oh" as Nicole, but her eyebrows don't stay up if they even jump at all. Then she looks at Nancy and she's mad, clearly on Steve's behalf. Steve's girlfriend slapped him, how dare she.

Next we have Tommy, the only person in this scene to noticeably flinch, bringing an arm up in front of him and playing it off with the cigarette to his mouth and marveling at the event. To me, it reads as a kind of empathy: if he were in Steve place in that moment, he'd block/shield himself and he has the reflexes to do it even when he's standing several feet away. I could be reading into it, but i still think its interesting he make more movement than the two people closer to them, and even the guy getting slapped (who doesn't even turn away, the momentum of the hit changes his angle slightly).

Then another (im sorry its pretty hard to follow, again, just learned how to make half decent gifs) showing interesting stuff from the fight i never noticed until looking for it. Most notably, extra lines/ad-lib from Tommy and Carol I've subtitled, like Tommy telling Carol to leave (the implication that she didn't want to as Nicole grabbed her, combined with her line worrying about him), Tommy hauling Steve up and Steve stumbling like we see in season 2 after his concussion (not definitive proof he has a concussion or something close to it since hes able to run and talk fine after, but its interesting)

Then we get the conflict afterwards, showing up differently for Carol and Tommy.

With Carol, its arguing. It's jabs at Nancy and it jabs at Tommy and Carol. What i think is really interesting is that the shit Steve says genuinely surprises her. Before she's goofing off with Tommy, the both of them trying to lighten the mood and Steve snaps. And her response isn't "calm down" or "what's gotten into you" (that's more in Tommy's lines), shes genuinely taken aback.

And then at the end, Steve raises his voice (not loud enough for a yell, but combined with the motion it feels like one) and Carol visibly backs up, out of frame entirely for a second. (followed by Tommy blowing up at Steve for yelling at her, and the following lines expressing again how its out of character for him)

That, combined with her reaction to Steve yelling from a previous scene (where he's going to check on Nancy and they tease him for caring) (also at .75 speed)

She's definitely got something going on with yelling specifically, especially since Tommy doesn't even look upset after, an expression similar to Nicole's "shit got interesting" expression from earlier.

Then there's Tommy's conflict, which is probably most memorable because its physical aggression (and very... tense.)

(yes i cut out over half of that moment the file size was massive im sorry)

We see from the Carol gif before and in this one that he gets aggressive. One shove when Steve yells at Carol, then the second Steve pushes back he escalates and even after Steve stops responding we get Tommy slamming the car door and hitting the outside even as Steve is driving out.

Its much harder to tell with him what the deal is, especially since he doesn't get the same vulnerable looks as Carol does. I think you could headcanon him having a similar thing as Carol, or as just macho-jock bullshit he learned to stay on top, or even it all leading back to having a crush on Steve.

This also doesn't really prove or disprove Tommy's actual ability to fight (i remember seeing people talk about it but I can't remember specifics) since he could either be a solid fighter who knows how to hit and protect from a hit, or he's talking out of his ass and sticks to intimidation and blocking when he needs to. Again, up to you (i certainly don't know which I find more interesting yet)

I personally also like to think the three of them were really good friends for a while, at least since middle school (but im also a sap especially for best-friendships) I wish we could've seen more of how Carol was taking the split up in season 2 and maybe something from Tommy other than how he hangs out with Billy now. Maybe Carol and Tommy split after Steve left, maybe it happened when Tommy tried replacing Steve with Billy in their trio, maybe they never split and Carol avoided Steve afterwards.

(tho i am kinda glad the story let them go after 2 seasons, we get a lot more room to play around with what-ifs and read into their scenes)

[withacapitalp]

Trust Me

Read it on AO3 instead here. Special thanks to @riality-check for betaing for me!!! I love me some genderfluid Steve Harrington, and writing this was so much fun!! TW: internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, and a couple f slurs

------

It started with the long navy skirt that Carol’s mother got her for her thirteenth birthday. 

Well, maybe it started a lot earlier. Maybe it started with Steve being both Tommy and Carol’s first kiss, or maybe it started with Steve always wanting to play house, or maybe it never really ‘started’ in the first place. Maybe this was just always who he was. 

But Carol thinks it really started with that long navy skirt. 

It wasn’t really Carol’s style. It was floor length and just a bit too long. When she tried it on, the bottom pooled around her on the floor like a rushing river. Her mom promised to get it tailored and told her to hang it up in her closet. 

Carol, in a hurry to get dressed before Steve and Tommy, left it on her desk instead. 

Her thirteenth birthday was perfect. Just her and her boys doing whatever she wanted. They went to Enzo’s for a fancy Italian dinner, watched a romance movie that Tommy pretended to hate, and got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream afterward to split. Her parents even let the boys sleep over in her bedroom as long as they all promised that Tommy and Steve were going to stay on the floor. 

They broke that promise pretty much the second the door was shut, but what her mom and dad didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

Carol fell asleep squished between her two favorite people, snuggled in warm and safe. 

She woke up half cold. 

Tommy was still curled up on her left side, snoring and dead to the world, but her right side was chilly, and when she spread her fingers out searching, only the blankets greeted her. 

Steve wasn’t there. 

Carol cracked one eye open, looking past the empty bed and towards the clock on her bedside table. 3:48 am. 

Way too early to be awake, even for an early bird like their Stevie. If it was Tommy, she would’ve just rolled over and went back to bed, assuming he was just getting up to pee or something. That was probably what Steve was doing. Carol didn’t need to worry. 

But…but it was Steve, and Steve had a tendency to get himself into trouble. The little voice in the back of Carol’s head that sounded like her mother was nagging at her, telling her to check on him, telling her to make sure, just make sure. 

So, with a heaving sigh, Carol untangled herself from Tommy’s octopus grip and pushed herself out of bed, shivering slightly when her bare feet touched the freezing cold floor. She scurried over to where her slippers were, jamming them on and walking out the door yawning. 

She was too busy rubbing at her sleep filled eyes to notice the skirt that had been on her desk was missing. 

Light spilled into the hallway from down the stairs, directing Carol to where she would find her missing boy. She decided to slide down the banister to avoid the creaky steps, smothering a giggle and keeping quiet. Steve was probably just getting a midnight snack and watching one of her VHS tapes. Maybe she would join him, and they could watch Robin Hood or Mary Poppins and fall asleep on the couch together like they did sometimes. 

But when Carol finally peeked into the living room, she stopped short.

Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch munching on chips or drinking a soda, and the television was dark. He wasn’t sitting at all, actually. Stevie was standing by the big accent mirror her mother put in the corner of the room, looking at his reflection as he idly twirled back and forth. 

That wasn’t the part that made Carol freeze in place. 

She froze because he was wearing her new skirt. 

It looked like it fit him wonderfully, actually. Steve had shot up like a weed last year, growing practically a foot in height, so the maxi length reached almost exactly halfway down his calves. His waist, which had always been tiny, looked positively perfect. If it was another girl trying it on, Carol would already be gushing about how cute it was. 

But it wasn’t another girl.

It was Steve. 

Her Steve. One of her boys. One of her boys was wearing a skirt, and it was a definitive fact that boys did not wear skirts. She would’ve figured it was just a joke, something stupid to make her and Tommy laugh, but then why would Steve do this in the middle of the night when they wouldn’t be awake to tease him? Why would he come downstairs when everyone else was asleep?

Why did Steve look like he was about to cry? 

Any thoughts Carol had about poking fun at him disappeared. Steve never cried. Never ever. She hadn’t even seen him cry when he broke his wrist falling out of the tree in his backyard. The only time she had ever seen Steve cry was the first time his parents had missed one of his basketball games, and she hadn’t even ‘seen’ that, just heard it through his locked bedroom door. 

(She didn’t like to remember that day. He had been crying so loudly it carried through his whole house. Carol guessed Steve never learned how to do that quietly, considering there was no need. His parents weren’t there.)

Sure, they liked to mess with each other, and Carol was never afraid of saying something that other people might be too sensitive about because she knew Steve could take it, but something about this just felt…different. 

“Stevie?” Carol called, stepping into the room. He immediately stiffened up, the soft slope of his shoulders growing rigid with fear. Steve looked at her from the reflection of the mirror, not turning to face her properly. 

He looked completely terrified, and that just wouldn’t do. She didn’t know what to say or think about a boy wearing a skirt, but she did know how to deal with Steve. 

“It looks pretty,” Carol said with false lightness, walking into the room and standing behind Steve in the mirror. She tried to catch his eye and give him one of her sweetest smiles, but it fell when Steve avoided her gaze. 

“It doesn’t,” Steve muttered, curling in on himself and grabbing at the hem of the old t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas, “I look silly.” 

“I think it’s pretty,” she argued back.

Yes, he did look kind of silly, but she couldn’t stand seeing him make himself small like that. Steve did that whenever he was talking to his mom and dad, he would hide himself away and try to take up less space, but he never did that with her and Tommy. Carol wasn’t going to let him start now. Not because of this. 

“It is really pretty, Stevie,” Carol added on, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder, “The cut is nice, and it makes your waist look so small. I wish mine looked like that! Plus the color compliments your-”

“I look ridiculous, Carrie,” Steve interrupted harshly, jerking away from her before she could touch him and squeezing his eyes shut tight, “Like a fag, a sick freak.” 

Carol left her hand hovering in the air, her stomach disappearing. Those weren’t Steve’s words. Steve would never say something that mean. 

Carol knew she could be mean sometimes, and she knew Tommy could be even meaner other times, but that was only to people who deserved it. Steve was never mean, even to people who deserved it. He was a total sweetheart, soft and gentle, and he needed her and Tommy to protect those soft gentle parts of him.

The parts that would hurt if he heard things like that. The parts that would hold onto words like those, waiting for the perfect moment to turn them inward and hurt himself. 

He had gotten those words from somewhere, and Carol was pretty sure she knew where. But no matter who had said them or about what, she knew she needed to make them go away. 

Somehow. 

“Well, it does look a little weird,” Carol started, quickly continuing when she saw Steve’s lip starting to wobble, “But not because it’s you wearing it! Just… that skirt really doesn’t work with your PJs. Wait, wait right here, I have an idea. Trust me.” 

She scampered up the stairs, practically flying into her room and rooting around in her closet, throwing things left and right. When she found what she was looking for she gasped in delight, a sound that was just loud enough to make Tommy snuffle slightly away. 

“Go back to sleep,” Carol said in a soft sing-song voice, pausing briefly in her mission to skip over and press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek. 

She loved Tommy, and she knew Steve loved Tommy, and she knew that Tommy loved both of them, but this still didn’t feel like something that they needed to share with him. At least, not just yet. 

Luckily, Tommy hummed happily and turned over, going back to his snoring. She chuckled quietly to herself and began to walk out, grabbing the big jewelry box from the top of her dresser as an afterthought. 

Steve was still standing exactly where she had left him, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his body. The words ‘sick freak’ were still burning in her chest, and she could see them written on his features. 

The other word was there too, but Carol couldn’t think about that word. She used it, and Tommy used it, but never for real. Steve had said it for real, stamping himself with a label that didn’t fit right. 

Yeah, he and Tommy had kissed a couple times, but Steve had also kissed her a few times, and she kissed Tommy all the time. It was just something they had as friends, practice for when they got real boyfriends and girlfriends. That didn’t make them fags. That just…it made her boys her boys. That was all. 

No matter what, Steve wasn’t a freak, and he definitely wasn’t sick. He was the coolest boy in school, her very best friend. He was soft and gentle where she and Tommy were hard and biting, and the three of them worked perfectly. Everyone looked up to them, everyone wanted to be them. Anything he wanted to do was right.

So if Steve wanted to wear something pretty, then Carol was going to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 

“Here,” Carol said, handing over the sweater she had been looking for. 

It was cashmere, soft and buttery to the touch, with a cream and dark blue striped pattern. Her uncle had gotten it for her in Paris, but he always got things way too big. It was ‘so she could grow into it’, but Carol really hoped she would never grow into an extra extra large. 

Steve took the sweater from here, but didn’t move to put it on. He just held it, rubbing his thumb along the fabric and staring down at it with a strange longing. 

“Go on. It’ll match way better,” Carol urged, nudging his shoulder with her own and stepping back. He stayed still. 

“Trust me,” Carol repeated, keeping her face open and honest. 

Steve tossed her an unsure look but did as he was told, hesitantly pulling his t-shirt off and slipping into the sweater. Without the pajamas clashing, the skirt looked even better, and Steve was even starting to cautiously admire his reflection again. 

“Now let’s tuck it in,” Carol said, pushing away any lingering confusion and moving straight into business mode. She didn't have to think about whether it was right for Steve to want to wear a skirt, she just had to make sure that it looked good. 

She pulled Steve so he was back directly in front of the mirror, standing behind him and reaching around. She tucked the bottom of the sweater into his skirt, fussing for a second to make sure it wasn’t bunched up anywhere and smoothing down the creases where his broad shoulders didn’t quite match up to the way the sweater was cut. 

“Give me a twirl,” Carol ordered, spinning her finger the way her mother always did when she had Carol try on something new. 

“Twirl?” Steve questioned, standing awkwardly. 

Carol nodded eagerly, sitting on the coffee table and putting her jewelry box down next to her. She never really liked it when her mom made her do this, but it was enjoyable to watch someone else. Carol had always wanted a sister to play dress up with, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was still pretty fun. 

Now that she was getting into it, it didn’t really seem all that strange to her, and the longer she looked at Steve in her clothes, the more normal it all seemed. It was just dress up, just something fun to do with her very best friend. Didn’t best friends try on each other’s clothes all the time? Tommy and Steve practically shared one wardrobe. 

This wasn’t that weird. Just dress up. 

Steve continued to just stand there for a minute before taking a deep breath and spinning in the smallest fastest circle she had ever seen. His face was beet red and he was staring down at his feet, but Carol could see the smile starting to grow on his face. 

She made another teasing circle with her finger and Steve twirled around for her again, bigger this time. She giggled, and he answered with his own quiet laugh. The air in the room was growing bright and warm and Carol hopped up from her spot, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him over to the couch. 

“Time for accessories,” She declared, dragging her box over and opening it. It was stuffed to the bursting with tons of different bits and baubles, and Carol began to root through it, picking out a few things she thought would match. 

“Do I need these?” Steve wondered aloud, looking wide eyed at all the different options. 

“Accessories make an outfit, Stevie,” Carol said, parroting the words her mother always said to her. 

She put a bunch of her silver bangles around one of his wrists, and her favorite blue and white polka dot scrunchie around the other. None of her rings would fit Steve’s fingers, and his hair was too short for his hair was too short for any of her ribbons or to make a braid, but she did find a few star and moon barrettes to clip in that looked nice. 

Carol pulled back to look at the whole outfit, tapping her lip with the tip of her finger. There was still something missing, something not quite right. 

“Oh!” Carol said, realizing what was wrong. She reached up behind her own head, undoing the clasp and reaching up to put it around Steve’s neck instead. 

“Wait, what are you-”

“Trust me,” Carol crooned, continuing to put the necklace around Steve’s neck. When the clasp was locked in place, she fixed the chain, arranging it exactly as she wanted. 

“There, that’s better,” She said with a satisfied smile. 

The locket was gold, which didn’t exactly match what she was trying to do with his ensemble, but it was the thing that was missing. Steve and Tommy had gotten it for her for her tenth birthday, and both of their pictures were inside, along with one of her baby teeth.  

It was cheap, and her mother didn’t like it very much, but they had saved all of their pocket money to get it for her, and it was Carol’s prized possession. She never let anyone else touch it, and the only time she took it off was to take a bath or grab a shower. 

She could feel its absence now, the lack of weight that was usually there on her neck, but the sensation didn’t fill her with the usual anxiety it caused. She knew it was in safe hands. 

Out of the three of them, Steve was always the gentlest.

Steve looked lost again, reaching up to touch the locket in silent wonder. The bracelets around his wrist jangled against each other, and he almost startled at the sound, unused to wearing any jewelry. She snickered, opening up one of the other drawers in her box. 

“Do you want some makeup?” Carol whispered conspiratorially, pulling out her secret eyeshadow and mascara, “My mom doesn’t know I have these, but I swiped them from the department store a couple months ago,”

Steve quickly shook his head, staying uncharacteristically silent. Carol could tell he wanted to say yes, and she really wanted to try and see if she could do a better job on him than she did on herself when she tried to put it on, but she held back. Steve was brand new to pretty clothes, and doing too much at once would probably be overwhelming. 

He already looked pretty shocked as it was. 

“Okay. Now let’s look properly,” Carol said, clapping her hands and pulling them both out of their thoughts. 

She held out her hand and Steve took it, interlocking their fingers. Carol passively thought about different nail polish colors she could try on Steve as she walked them both towards the mirror. He probably wouldn’t like pink, but maybe baby blue? Or white with little stickers. That could look nice. 

Or maybe this was a one time thing. Maybe Steve would look at his reflection and totally hate it and never want to try again. 

That’s what Carol should want, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to want to put on pretty clothes, and it would be better if Steve decided he didn’t like it. 

So why was she so hopeful that Steve would like how he looked as much as she did? 

“How do you feel?” Carol asked as they reached the mirror, looking anxiously at their reflections. 

Steve looked like himself still, but changed, evolved. It was like those soft parts of him- the gentle ones he kept hidden just for Tommy and Carol- were finally on full display, and the result was gorgeous.  

The lean muscles that were starting to develop on Steve’s arms from swimming practice were hidden under cashmere stripes, and the barely there baby fat that was starting to fade made her want to squeeze his cheeks. He had a sweet smile on his face and he kept glancing shyly from the mirror down to his hands and back up to the mirror. It was like he was scared to see himself, but couldn’t look away. 

“Pretty,” He whispered, his voice filled with awe, making Carol’s chest brim with light, “I feel pretty.” 

“No,” She whispered back, leaning her head against his upper arm and beaming, “Trust me. You’re beautiful.” 

“Beautiful,” He repeated, holding the word reverently on his tongue. Carol stood on her tip toes and kissed Steve’s cheek, wrapping her arms around his bicep and going back to looking at their reflections. 

Carol’s mom never ended up getting that navy skirt tailored, because she never saw it again. When she asked her daughter, Carol played dumb, telling her it was in the laundry or missing somewhere in the house. 

Her mother never found out that the skirt and the sweater that had never fit Carol now lived in the back of Steve Harrington’s closet, hidden inside a fabric bag behind a box of old baby clothes. 

[little-bumblebeeee]

love how we all agree that something was definitely going on between these three

[pandagirl45]

Steve being jealous of Carol. Carol not sure why steve is sending daggers her way. Steve foolishly assuming rhodey is dating Carol (rhodey, unintentional flirt sounding man).

Steve shouting after months of frustration during a meeting after Carol complimented rhodey, "WE GET IT, YOURE DATING!"

Everyone silent. Rhodey surprised. Tony coughing on his coffee. Bucky facepalming. Sam stares. Natasha laughs, "she's dating me."

Steve, embarrassed, goes to hide for the remainder of the week.

Something

Something

Rhodey find steve, casually asks him making the blonde super soldier foam at the mouth.

[depressedtheatrekiddo]

Ohohohoh I'm a sucker for whatever the past ship of Stevie + Carol + Tommy is called

Imagine me when an idea appears on my mind and says

LISTENLISTEN

It's Christmas, okay? And Carol it's pressured by her family to bring a boyfriend because we know how that shit works

So

She brings Tommy

BUT they're all together at that moment. Because they know they are. Together.

It goes something like this

. ° — ° — ❄️ — ° — ° .

"So yeah— my parents..."

"Oh, I can go!" Steve says, lovely smile in their face "Then we can go to my parents too, they asked me to bring someone too and I doubt they told me that as to bring a friend"

And then Tommy and Carol go silent.

And Stevie knows they talked about it before. Before telling her.

"Stevie, I thought about bringing Tommy— He's— You know...A real man" And fuck it, it burns like hell, and Steve remembers themselves to not cry, he tries not to.

"Oh" Carol tries to touch her arm, Tommy smiles softly, 'sorry' Stevie can read in his expression. She doesn't care, they know Carol and Tommy love him for who she is, but they don't always think about what they say, and the one who ends hurt is Steve. Because she doesn't say anything. Because they love him. "It's 'kay- I'm gonna go home"

Carol tries to talk, Tommy looks at Stevie as she stands up from Tommy's bed, as they're in his bedroom. The two of them realize they fucked up once they heard Steve calling his house a home. Because they were supposed to be her home, his safe place.

"Lemme walk you to the door" Tommy stands up too, and then Carol nods.

Steve let's them walk with her, he doesn't say anything.

"See ya tomorrow Stevie" Tommy mutters, his gaze trying to be softer, very different from when he talks normally. She sees that he tries to think what to do. But he doesn't do anything.

"W-we can go the three of us together to prom— It's just—" Carol mutters, a weak smile on her face. But she doesn't say sorry. Neither of them actually verbalize it. And Stevie remembers the relationship of their parents. And fuck it, it burns even more.

"It's okay— I understand" And he doesn't. But they love them. Why does it matter?

[glitterghast]

Your ST ships?

bro i ship So Much it ain’t even funny. but my main loves are:

- ronance

- hellcheer

- buckingham

- elmax

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

StevexCarol Implied pegging

Steve shows up at Carol’s a few weeks after his break up with Nancy. Holding a wrapped box wrapped in a deconstructed brown paper bag with hand drawn penises all over it. Making puppy dogs eyes at her as she stands there with a raised eyebrow deliberating.

“It better be fucking big Stevie baby.” Carol says as she waves him in, Steve practically skips nodding his head because it’s bigger than the last one, hopefully big enough he won’t be left disappointed.

Carol unwraps it, manicured fingers slow and deliberate, smirk growing as Steve squirms in the kitchen chair she shoved him into. If she wasn’t so excited and curious herself she would go even slower, see how long he takes to break.

The paper falls away and Steve snatches it up before she can, knowing her well enough to know she was about to fold it just to draw it out longer. “Behave baby.” Steve’s bottom lip juts out but he doesn’t protest, letting her pull the paper in her hands, eye twitching as she slowly folds it. He lasts eight folds before he makes an annoyed huff and Carol only makes him suffer through two more before she sets it aside.

The box itself is plain but of a fine make the leather quality and the lid folds up revealing red satin padding. Carol barely resists letting out a high pleased noise when she sees the dildo nestles inside, it’s pretty a dark purple, long and thick, the head pointed in a way none of her other ones have. It goes even darker near the base, where it grows thicker, the texture a little softer than the rest before the flared base. It must be custom like she knows the harness nestled next to it is, that she knew about in theory, measurements taken and the order scent out before Nancy came along and things went sideways.

She slowly turns her gaze to Steve practically vibrating in the chair, fingers curled over the edge of the table as he waits her out. “You outdid yourself baby, picked out a real pretty one, can’t wait to try it out on you.” Steve grins, would be wagging his tail if he had one, leaning into Carol’s touch when she cups his jaw and kisses him softly.

 “How about we go upstairs and give it a test run right now.” Steve makes a noise like an almost whimper standing so abruptly he nearly knocks the chair over. Carol laughs when he scoops her up over his shoulder, one arm securing her while the other grabs the box before running upstairs.

They spend all night getting reacquainted

[toburnup]

Steve is really fucking hard to ignore.

"Guys. Seriously, you can fuck later, let me in." His voice is muffled through the door but Tommy's focus is cut in half. His fingers slip and Carol groans until they find their place again.

Finally, she devolves into quiet panting, her eyes screwed up. Tommy is sweating and his bed is creaking when she starts grinding her hips down, against his hand, against him. She's so close, she just needs a bit more and then Tommy can fucking finish and this will be over-

"Tommy-"

"One fucking minute!" Tommy practically bellows at the door, and Steve finally goes silent.

[thestobingirlie]

Got any pre-season 1 stomarol hcs to share?

sure!!

steve and carol were each others first kiss. they were still pretty young, like pre-teens, and they figured… why not.

tommy and carol were very hot and cold, and during one break up steve and carol came very close to fucking. tommy called and apologised before they did, and starol both decided to never tell tommy.

as i’ve said many a time before, starol were friends first. when steve first moved to hawkins at like 7, they became besties. steve used to get mocked for only having friends that were girls.

in middle school, tommy and carol started dating, steve got his braces off, had his growth spurt, and they started getting popular.

the very first time they got drunk, stommy kissed. just a little kiss. they never spoke about it again, and they’re not even sure the other remembers it.

steve and carol are depressed drunks once they’ve reached a certain threshold, and if you can’t find them inside, they’ve probably climbed out the window and up onto the roof. they’ll just sit there in silence, hanging out and watching the stars.

the last birthday steve celebrated with them, tommy wanted to try baking the cake that year. they have no idea what he did to it, but it was like a lump of concrete. it lasted months as the three of them took turns just… throwing it at walls and shit lmao.

i don’t think steve’s parents liked carol and tommy that much, but not because of any actual complaints, they’re just miserable lmao.

stomarol were baby dorks. very into star trek. when the reached middle school, tommy’s older brother told them it was time to grow up, or they’d be losers in high school.

speaking of. tommy has one older brother, he’s like a good 5/6 years older. he was the one that gave stomarol their first beers and cigs. single mother mrs hagan would ask her oldest son to babysit tommy a lot, but most of the time he just… didn’t lol, and left stomarol to do whatever they wanted.

carol has two younger brothers, and an older half sister who was already away and in college not long after starol first met.

when they were younger, stomarol loved the fact that they never really had anyone keeping an eye on them, that the adults around them pretty much let them do whatever they wanted.

a big part of what drove the animosity towards nancy is that steve had never cared about a girlfriend more than he cared about tommy and carol before, and when nancy stepped into the picture, they felt like their friendship was splintering. essentially, they were jealous. and despite not wanting to, they basically drove steve into nancy’s arms.

[threewaywithdelusion]

Soulmate AU: Steve Meets Nancy, Tommy/Carol

This is a bonus scene from my Soulmate AU. It's set in Steve's sophomore year of high school, and thus early in the first chapter of the fic.

~

It was the middle of basketball season, which meant Steve should have been focused on perfecting his layup, but instead he was looking around the cafeteria, trying to find a date.

This was because it was also the second week of February. Valentine’s Day was next Monday.

Steve had a policy of not having an actual date on the 14th. Valentine’s Day felt like it said something about a relationship, and none of the girls he had dated or slept with meant enough to him to be worthy of it. Steve wasn’t saving Valentine’s Day for his soulmate, exactly, but he was saving it for someone he loved. His first kiss has been Janice Jacobs in a game of spin the bottle. His first date had been Lisa Wilson in sixth grade, with the basketball team cheering him on to ask her out. His first time had been Stephanie Lowell last summer, a little drunk at a party.

Steve didn’t mind any of those firsts really. He’d had fun with the girls and if they hadn’t been movie-perfect moments then that was because this was real life.

But Steve wanted to save at least one first for someone that he actually loved — not that he could say that to Tommy and Carol. It sounded like something a girl would say, way too sappy and embarrassing to ever admit to.

But even if Steve didn’t want to go out on Valentine’s Day itself, he still had to find a girl to take out this weekend. He was Steve Harrington — he couldn’t not have a date on Valentine’s Day weekend.

“Why don’t you steal a bottle of your mom’s good wine and we can do a picnic?” Tommy asked Carol, trying to plan their date. 

“A picnic in February?” Carol arched her eyebrows. She was picking at the food on her lunch tray, which looked particularly inedible today. 

“How about Louise Baker?” Steve asked, tilting his head towards a pretty dark-haired girl on the other side of the cafeteria. 

“She has a crush on Ryan,” Carol dismissed. “That’ll be too messy with the team if she actually decides to go for it.”

“We can do an indoor picnic,” Tommy tried. “I’ll rent a movie and get fancy cheeses or whatever.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “No. Steve, what about Julie Richards?”

Steve was already shaking his head. “Her dad works with my dad. If I go out with her and he finds out, I’ll probably have to marry her or some shit.”

Carol hummed, discarding that idea. Doing something that would please Steve’s dad was never the right choice.

“What if we drive to Indy for the weekend?” Tommy asked. He’d just gotten his driver’s license last month and he was always looking for ways to use it. 

“No,” Carol said. 

“You’re being such a snob,” Tommy said. “If you hate all my ideas, why don’t you come up with something?” 

“Because you’re the guy,” Carol snapped. “You’re supposed to plan the date.”

Steve thought it was obvious that Carol hated all of Tommy’s ideas because they all involved hiding away, just the two of them. Carol wanted to be shown off. She wanted Tommy to take her out on the town and act proud that she was his girlfriend so she could flaunt how happy and in-love she was to all the miserable, single people. And probably all the people who were in love but who weren’t doing as good of a job at it as Carol.

Steve didn’t tell Tommy that though. Carol clearly wanted him to realize what she wanted himself and Steve knew better than to cross her. When it came to their friend group, there was no solidarity amongst brothers; if you pissed off Carol, it was every man for himself and God help them all.

Steve looked around at the girls in the cafeteria again. He couldn’t date anyone he’d already been with or anyone his teammates had seriously dated, which ruled out a large portion of the girls. He was also hoping for someone that he actually found attractive and interesting, though if he couldn’t find a girl he liked he would settle, just so he wouldn’t look pathetic and alone.

One girl was walking towards their table and she stood out. Long brown hair, pale skin, and huge blue eyes. She was wearing a kind of frumpy outfit, but she was pretty enough to pull it off.

She stopped right next to Steve and for a moment he wondered if his wildest dreams were coming true and she was here to flirt for a Valentine’s Day date.

But she didn’t look at him. She looked at Tommy and Carol, holding herself rigidly like she thought that made her look more impressive. “Hi, I’m Nancy. I’m writing an article for the Hawkins Post. Can I ask you some questions?”

Tommy glanced at Carol and when she didn’t object said, “Yeah, sure.”

Nancy sat down next to Steve and he shot her a flirtatious look that she ignored. She pulled out a lined notebook and a blue pen and sat poised, like she had to take serious notes about whatever she asked.

It was kind of cute.

“When did you two meet?” Nancy asked.

Carol looked unimpressed. “Seriously? Doesn’t everyone know this already?”

Nancy’s mouth pressed into a little line. “I guess not.”

“Third grade,” Tommy said. “When Carol moved to Hawkins.”

Nancy nodded and made a little note. “And when did you realize you were soulmates?”

“Seventh grade,” Tommy said, sounding bored.

Steve had to admit, these were terrible interview questions. Hawkins wasn’t that big of a town and Tommy and Carol were the only soulmates in the whole high school, which meant the rumor mill had had a field day with the two of them. Why write an article that said nothing new?

Nancy pointed at Carol’s forearm, where the word bitch was proudly displayed. “What’s the story of how you realized you were soulmates?”

“Okay, this is boring,” Carol said. “We’ve done our charity for the day.”

“What?” Nancy looked shocked.

“This interview is stupid,” Tommy said, like he was talking to someone particularly dumb. He used that tone a lot, but almost never on Steve, which Steve appreciated. 

Nancy’s eyes sparked. “Look, I don’t like it either. I don’t give a shit about your relationship. But I’m a freshman and they won’t give me any good articles so I need to get this stupid Valentine’s Day article right so they’ll let me report on something I actually care about.”

Tommy and Carol did not look moved. But Steve liked this side of Nancy, different from the perfect little wallflower who had sat down. She was willing to fight for an article she didn’t even believe in and there was something mesmerizing about the way she tipped her chin up and set her shoulders.

“It’s really romantic,” Steve said, jumping in when it was clear that Tommy and Carol wouldn’t. “Tommy was defending Carol. Everybody called her a bitch, which is kind of true, but only because she says what other people are too afraid to say.”

The real story was that Carol had cried. Carol, who took pride in tearing other people down with her words and exploiting their secrets, had been called a bitch by everyone — the boys on Steve and Tommy’s basketball team, the girls on Carol’s soccer team, her friends, even one teacher — and she had finally broken down and cried about it. Hiding in the girls’ locker room, she’d asked if she was really such a bitch that everyone hated her. 

Tommy had said yeah. That she was too smart for her own good, always finding people’s insecurities and leveraging them against them. That she was precise with her insults, always cutting where it would hurt the most, and that terrified people. That she was really good at being really mean.

Carol had scowled and asked why he was still around if she was so awful. And Tommy had said, “because it’s impressive as fuck. When I get mad at people, I just hit them. And I’m strong and I’ll hit them where it’ll fuck them up, so it works. But you do it with words and you’re like, scary smart and it’s super hot watching you tear people down like it’s nothing. They’re right that you’re a bitch, but it would be really boring if you weren’t.”

Carol had stopped crying, eyes narrowed like she didn’t know whether to believe Tommy, and said, “really?”

“Duh,” Tommy had said. “You think I want to date some boring goody two-shoes? Would you want to date me if I was some pansy who let people walk all over me?”

Carol had snorted. “God, no.”

They’d started making out right then and there, in the girl’s locker room, in front of Steve’s eyes. 

Steve had made a face. “Aw, the bitch and the asshole. A match made in heaven.”

They’d both flipped him off.

“You’re a bitch and an asshole, Steve,” Carol had said. 

Steve had grinned at that badge of honor. A little bit of Tommy and a little bit of Carol. They all looked out for each other, protecting themselves and fighting to stay on top of the social pyramid.

They had stayed in the locker room while Carol fixed her makeup, putting on new mascara and fixing her lipstick. She’d fluffed her hair and a little, turned to Tommy and said, “you’re my soulmate, by the way,” then walked out of the locker room and to her math class like nothing had happened. It hadn’t been until school was out that day that she’d shown Tommy (and by extension Steve, their eternal third wheel) the word on her wrist.

“But everyone calls you a bitch,” Tommy had said.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one who likes it.”

And that had been that. 

Of course, that wasn’t the story they had told the rest of the school. 

“Tony Melvin was being a dick,” Tommy said, “trying to call Carol a slut for sleeping with me. And when she pointed out that she’d only ever slept with me and he’d slept with half the cheerleading team, he lost his shit.”

“Because I was right,” Carol said.

“Because she was right,” Tommy agreed. 

“He started calling me a bitch, as if that was news to anyone,” Carol said, rolling her eyes. “So I told him that he shouldn’t start fights he couldn’t finish, and he got even madder. He started asking what the hell that meant and I said that he hadn’t been worth destroying before, but that I’d heard whispers from all the girls he’d slept with and that he should be scared. That I thought he should be called Tony-Two-Two because his dick was two inches long and he only lasted two seconds.”

“He did not like that,” Steve said, smirking. It had been kind of fun watching Carol tear Tony down. 

“He called me a bitch again, because that guy doesn’t have any brain cells to rub together and couldn’t come up with another insult if his life depended on it. And that’s when Steve said-“

“Carol, you are such a bitch,” Steve said in the most bored, deadpan tone he could manage. Exactly the way he’d said it in front of Tony. “Wow. It is so mean of you to tell this man the truth.”

“Tony swung at Steve, so Tommy jumped in and it turned into a fight,” Carol said. “When the teachers pulled them apart, Tony screamed at Tommy ‘What are you a queer or something? You’ll jump in to help King Steve but not to defend your own girlfriend?’ And Tommy said-“

Tommy grinned. “Carol doesn’t need me to defend her. Perks of dating a bitch.”

“And that’s when I knew,” Carol said. “Tommy said bitch like he loved me, which meant he was my soulmate.”

Nancy was furiously taking notes. She had her bottom lip between her teeth, a cute look of concentration on her face, and Steve thought she looked beautiful. 

She finally glanced up, looking between Carol and Tommy for a moment, eyes sharp. She didn’t look at Steve. 

Then she sighed and said, clearly reading off a pre-prepared list of questions, “How has discovering you’re soulmates affected your relationship?”

Carol and Tommy answered a few more boring questions. Being in the school newspaper was good for them, even if the article was going to be mind-numbingly dull. Usually only Steve and Tommy made it in and only for being on the basketball team, which was admittedly kind of mediocre. Steve was hoping they would win before he graduated, but a lot had to change for that to happen. 

Finally, Nancy wrapped up her questions and stood up. “Thanks for your time.”

“Good luck being the world’s most boring reporter,” Carol said, waving condescendingly.

Nancy’s lips tightened, her knuckles turning white on her little striped notebook. She sat back down, smiling disarmingly. “Tommy, do you ever wonder if Carol is lying to you?”

“What?” Tommy asked, looking blind-sided.

“Well, like you said, everyone knows Carol is a bitch. Everyone calls her that to her face. So couldn’t she just have chosen any guy who said that and claimed he was her soulmate?”

“What the fuck do you know about soulmates?” Tommy asked. 

“It’s just a question,” Nancy said, an innocent look on her face and a taunting lightness in her voice. 

“He’s my soulmate,” Carol said, voice tight. 

“Okay,” Nancy said. “But doesn’t being the only pair of soulmates in school boost your popularity? And didn’t the very public way you discovered you were soulmates help that?”

They had put on a bit of a show of having Carol and Tommy discover they were soulmates. But only because the real way it had happened was too vulnerable to show to others. No one had doubted that Tommy and Carol belonged together or that they had fabricated the way they had realized it. 

Nancy Wheeler was the first person to ever call bullshit. 

And Steve liked her for it. 

“Excuse me?” Carol asked. 

“We answer all your stupid-ass questions and you pull this shit?” Tommy asked. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“I’m Nancy Wheeler,” Nancy said primly. “And you seemed bored with the puff piece. So I can write a hard-hitting exposé if you’d prefer. Do a little investigative journalism. Are Tommy and Carol really soulmates or are they faking it for popularity? Is Tommy in on it, or is Carol just lying to his face? How do the pressures to find their soulmate affect teenagers in the midwest?”

“Nancy-“ Steve tried. 

She spun on him. “Does King Steve really have two soulmates, or does he just wear two armbands to get people to whisper about him? Are soulmates still sacred or are they used for social currency by the high school elite?”

Steve flinched back. 

Nancy softened. “It would make for a good article,” she said, almost like an apology. 

“I have two soulmates,” Steve insisted, voice tight. “I’m not lying.”

Nancy deflated, letting out a sigh. “I know. I don’t think you’re lying. It would just sound better than the hundredth school newspaper article about How To Tell If Steve Harrington Is Your Soulmate?”

Steve hated those articles. They always made him itch. Every time a new one was written, girls would approach him in droves, acting a specific way. One time the article had claimed that Steve’s soulmate must be athletic and only girls on the cheerleading and soccer teams had talked to him. One time the article had claimed Steve liked girls who thought he was funny, and girls had laughed at anything he said, regardless of if he was telling a joke or not. 

Steve, Tommy, and Carol had made a game out of it, preparing terrible jokes and betting money on if Steve could get a girl to laugh at it. 

“Am I in this article?” Steve asked Nancy. 

“That wasn’t the plan,” Nancy said. 

Steve relaxed. “Good.”

Nancy quirked an eyebrow. “What? You don’t want more publicity?”

“I hate when they write those fucking things,” Steve said. “They assume certain girls are my type, but no one actually asks me.”

Nancy picked up her notebook, making a bit of a show of it. “Steve Harrington, what is your type?”

Steve smiled a little. He gave her a purposeful up-and-down, then leaned in and said, “Smart girls.”

Nancy rolled her eyes, setting down the notebook. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. 

Nancy gave him a long, dubious stare but her cheeks flushed a pretty pink color, giving her away. She was pleased.

She cleared her throat and turned to Tommy and Carol. “So. I guess you’re on board with the puff piece?”

They couldn’t say no. If they did, Nancy would run an article questioning their entire relationship. 

“Yeah,” Tommy said. 

Nancy smiled, polite and pretty. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

She stood and walked back to her own table, where a redheaded girl was waiting for her. Steve watched as they talked, Nancy showing the redhead the notebook and laughing about something. 

“No,” Tommy said. “Absolutely not, Steve.”

Steve jolted, turning back to his lunch. “I didn’t say anything.”

Tommy and Carol both stared him down, unimpressed. 

“She’s a priss,” Carol said. “She’ll never put out.”

“Maybe I like her for her brain,” Steve said. 

Carol rolled her eyes. “Sure, Steve.”

That should have been the end of it. Tommy went back to suggesting date ideas to Carol and everything should have been normal, but Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Nancy Wheeler. 

She was beautiful. She was clever. And she’d stood her own against Carol and Tommy, which not many people could do. Too many of the girls Steve had dated had cowered on double dates with Tommy and Carol, unable to bite back. But Nancy gave as good as she got. There was something steely under that pink cardigan . Something real. 

“We could make each other mixtapes and go for a long drive,” Tommy suggested. It was a nice date idea, but still so far from what Carol wanted. She was starting to scowl. 

“For fucks sake, Tommy!” Steve said. “Just buy her some flowers and take her to Enzo’s.”

“Thank you!” Carol said, throwing her hands up. “Goddamnit Tommy, it’s not that hard.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Well maybe you should just date Steve then.”

“Nah,” Carol said, grabbing Tommy by the arms and pulling him closer. “You’re my soulmate.”

Tommy smiled. “Damn right I am.”

He leaned in and kissed her, deep and possessive, right in the middle of the cafeteria. Steve felt a pang of jealousy that he quickly tried to shove away. He loved Tommy and Carol. But he hated how much spending time around them reminded him that he was alone. 

He went back to perusing the cafeteria for potential Valentine’s Day dates, trying his best not to stare at beautiful, brilliant Nancy Wheeler. 

There had to be other girls worthy of his time. He just had to find them.

[starryeyedjanai]

rear-view au

Carol tugs on the ends of his hair before placing her hand on his cheek for him to lean into it, like he’s done countless times before. But it feels different now. It feels like- it just, it feels like more. He can't describe it, but he knows he never would have thought about it before - that’s just how it is between them. But thinking about them in this new context has him obsessing over even the slightest bit of contact.

make me write more!