#But with Steve instead!

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - 1

Chapter 16/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 5,204

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

More ST Fics

-----------------------------------------------------

“And in a shocking turn of events, there’s a new story coming from southern Indiana to explain the strange occurrences that have been captivating viewers in recent days. With Hawkins’ own Nancy Wheeler running it.”

The news reporter spoke from behind the studio desk. Lifting up a copy of the very newspaper she was referring to as she read,” ‘The Truth to the Hawkins’ Murders: Eddie Munson’s Impossible Innocence.’ This article explains the convoluted web that led the small-town community to believe one of their own was guilty of a crime he was actually only a witness to. Edward Munson, Eddie, a senior at the high school who runs his own club and plays guitar in a local band, was the victim of a city-wide manhunt as the citizens looked to find justice. His crime? Wandering a little off the beaten path - or being sort of strange, by most folks’ standards - argues Nancy Wheeler.”

An image of Nancy, the school picture taken for the yearbook, appeared on the screen.

“The teenager herself is an honors student, the head of the school paper, and considered one of the town’s most promising young minds. She describes her own investigation, during which she questioned the suspect, his guardian, police officers, and even serves herself as one of many alibis accounting for Eddie Munson’s whereabouts while he was in hiding. She even writes a profile on the subject with comments from local figures including teachers and even the returned ex-chief of police, Jim Hopper, who many believed to be dead until today. Wheeler details the testimony she passed on to the police that they went on to verify against physical evidence. And, as of just earlier this morning, that testimony and the findings in the field have been used to officially strike Eddie Munson as a suspect in the crimes. The current Police Chief, Powell, explained the department’s side of things in further detail during their press release this morning, which we’ll run momentarily, but if you’re looking for more background on what exactly happened, per the people themselves, look no further than a local newspaper stand or try the collections bins outside the Hawkins High School to read these students’ own accounts of what has to be one of the worst Spring Breaks anyone’s ever had. Now onto the footage from this morning’s release…”

Following the mention of Nancy’s article, they played the news team’s recording of Powell outside the police station. Many camera crews had gathered and questions were being thrown at him from every direction. By the end of his statement, there was a little more clarity on “what really happened.” At least as far as the general public was allowed to know about.

The good news rang through thousands of homes that morning. There would still be some objections, of course. People would point to him being a known dealer as proof that he was no good. And Chrissy’s parents didn’t like the truth that she’d been looking to buy drugs that Friday night. Jason’s didn’t like the idea that he’d been the volatile one instead of the town freak. Patrick’s parents had been heartbroken to hear he’d gotten swept up in something too fast and turned on when he tried to walk away.

Most of the popular folks and those close to them didn’t want to accept the “slander” against the people in their inner circle.

But at the end of the day, it was just a couple dozen people and their opinions. Legally, Eddie was home free. The cops closed the case. And if anyone wanted to cause him any real trouble on their own… well, they had a Party that regularly kicks interdimensional ass they’d have to get through first. And they’d be hard-pressed to find lawyers to push a case like this one. Safe to say, it wouldn’t be very easy for anyone to harass him or do worse, if they were so inclined. He had people watching his back.

And one of the households that caught the news running that morning had been the Wheeler’s.

Ted was reclined in the living room in front of the TV while Karen whisked around the kitchen getting breakfast laid out. Holly and Amber were giggling back and forth on the couch between whispers and pointed fingers. Holly sat between Nancy’s legs while the older sister braided her long blonde pigtails, with promises made to the guest that she’d be next, of course. Amber’s parents had been downstairs on the phone all morning, still talking to family and insurance, making plans for how they’ll come back from their share of the disaster.

As the reporter referred to her article, Nancy could hardly believe it. Even when she said her name, it still didn't seem real. But then her picture appeared, and Holly turned around in her hands to look up at her sister, matching the face on the screen to the one sitting behind her. Nancy smiled and scrunched up her nose, leaning in close to her face and swiping little butterfly kisses between the tips of their noses as the girl erupted into further fits of laughter. And that felt real. Holly saw it too.

"Did they say 'Nancy Wheeler'?" Karen called from the kitchen, pride painting her voice.

Ted didn’t say anything.

He watched the news, cast his gaze her way, and continued watching. Didn’t say “sorry” for assuming she didn’t know what she was talking about. Ted Wheeler didn’t really do that sort of thing. But he saw it.

"They did! They did!" Holly sang joyfully instead.

And maybe Nancy felt smug as she tied off her hair band and tickled her sides before the girls switched places.

They did. They said her name, said she was right, and people knew about it. Ted knew just like the rest of them, even if he wasn’t going to admit it.

From the days of “Nancy Drew” only being allowed to run lunch orders to having her name recognized by a real news organization… the latter was a way better feeling.

She did that. While not exactly all on her own, she did that with her own two hands. There wasn’t anyone who told her what to do along the way, no one to steal the credit for the story she hunted down. She found the truth, and even if that wasn’t exactly what she could publish, with what she could she helped someone who deserved it.

She’d thank Robin, of course. And also Steve, Hopper, Powell, Jonathan, and Argyle. Vickie too, she supposed. They all helped make it happen.

But before any of that, she wanted to show it off to the person it was all about.

She ate breakfast with their household carefully crowded around the dining room table. After Mike wandered down from his bedroom sporting a messy bedhead and joined them, that is. But afterward, she’d decided that she needed to see the subject of her biggest story yet.

Nancy arrived at the hospital to find Eddie comfortably laid out in his bed, flicking the channels on the tv with an expression of mild boredom on his face. She slipped into the room quietly and threw down the paper onto his chest. Perching herself in the chair next to him before he’d even looked over to see who came in through the door. His eyes fell to the thin stack of paper on his sternum. Setting down the remote and picking them up with a quick look over the title. A grin spread across his face.

He’d caught the news story before he started looking for more entertaining television, and now he had the real thing right in front of him.

“So there it is…” he mused, a finger running under his name in big, bold print.

“There it is.” Nancy echoed, watching the way his eyes ran down it, taking it all in, not yet reading it word-for-word.

“It’s smaller than I thought it would be. It’s such a big deal, thought it’d be like twenty pages long.”

“If I made it that long and no one would read it,” Nancy told him. It was a big story with so many moving parts to overlap just right. It could’ve easily been longer. But even the few pages it took up between the pictures felt like quite a lot.

“I don’t know…” Eddie hummed, flicking the corner of the paper,” Suspect of a triple- quadruple- whatever murder seems like a pretty interesting read. I think you coulda gotten away with padding it out a little. I mean, was there even room to mention my sick, lifesaving guitar skills?”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we squeezed in an ad on the back for your little band.” She nodded.

Eddie’s eyes lit up and he quickly flipped the paper over in his hands. Disbelief and shock colored his voice as he started,“ You did not-”

Nancy couldn’t help the teasing chuckle at his disappointed expression when he met the end of the article, no real mention of Corroded Coffin,“ You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Ohhhh…” he dropped the paper onto his lap,” That was a mean, mean trick, Wheeler.”

“I needed the laugh.” She sighed, her eyes catching on his IV before she asked,“ How’re you feeling?”

“Patched up. Not really looking forward to duking it out in the next big battle, but I would like to get back to my leisurely days in the Shire at this point. So, bring on the army. Let’s get ‘er done.”

“Well, we still have prep to do. We’re going to try to do a better job than we did last time.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re still putting one together. I’ve been told Murray is making a mess of Steve’s spare bedroom with papers pinned along every wall trying to sort something out. But before we can do any of that, we need to make sure you’ll have your back covered. Need your favorite song.” She nodded, once more reaching for the notebook tucked in her purse with the rest of the list.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Eddie only barely nodded in turn.

“It does. So, hand it over. We need everyone geared up with headphones to make sure our big bad doesn’t get anyone else like he did…”

A quiet came up between them. Max had just been moved into Eddie’s room that morning before her mom had to go to her job. Eddie told Susan he’d keep an eye on her, along with all the other people who’d probably stop by over and over again until she woke up. Nancy took a peak past him at the girl in her bed. “Make sure he doesn’t get anyone like he did Max” was the sentence that went unfinished.

“Favorite song, huh…”

Nancy bristled and looked back at him, clicking her pen to refocus,“ Yes? What’ll be yours?”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled into his hand,” How does someone pick just one favorite song anyway?”

“Just, whatever seems right for you.” She gave a light wave of her hand.

“But there’s so much that would go into a decision like this, Nancy!” he burst out.

“Okay, Eddie, it doesn’t need to be that big of a deal. You can have a couple different options on the lineup, I’m pretty sure we’re all gonna squeeze as many of our favorites on our own tape as we can. But we do need your best guess to make sure someone can help you if they need to.”

Eddie remembered the fear that hit the seven of them when Nancy just stopped answering. They scrambled and panicked and yelled through his trailer, without any clue what to use to help. Feeling so helpless and terrified. Thinking they were about to lose one of their own, right when they thought they were safe. It was up there with facing down the tornado of demobats as being one of the scariest moments of his life.

He knew it was important to pick one. But knowing it was so serious made it even harder to choose. Because what if he got it wrong?

“But, I mean, do I want to pick one of my favorites that I’ve loved for a long time? Like should I pick something from my childhood- is nostalgia gonna help me in this case? Or one I’m really into right now? And this is going to be my soundtrack for charging into war, so maybe I wanna pick one that has a good vibe for that. Or is it more important that it’s something that’ll bliss me out, rather than rev me up? Or-”

“Eddie-”

“Okay! What about- What songs did everyone else pick? How’s the team mixtape shaping up already?”

It didn’t really make sense. What everyone else was going to listen to didn’t really matter for what he should decide on. The “team mixtape” didn’t need to mesh well together.

Nancy shook her head with the thought, but began to answer him anyway,” Well, your little mini-me said he liked ‘Highway to Hell’ because of the cassette you lent him.”

And as if that was the most important topic of conversation - not finding his own savior song - Eddie’s head cocked to the side slightly.

“He did?”

“Yeah? Is something wrong with that?”

He wondered to himself,“ No, I just… I know he’s still getting into my stuff, but I didn’t really peg him for that one. At least not as, like, a favorite or anything.”

Nancy shrugged and continued,“ Well, Dustin and Lucas made more romantic picks. Stuff that reminds them of their girls, of course.”

“Alright, fair enough for those two lovesick nerds, and what’d you choose, Wheeler?”

His whole face quirked up into a strange expression when she answered. Like even more than he didn’t believe Mike Wheeler really liked the AC/DC track, he didn’t believe Nancy Wheeler really liked ‘Take My Breath Away.’

He eventually asked her to clarify,“ You mean that love song from Top Gun?”

“Yeah. What? I like Tom Cruise.” She gave a joking huff and continued when his face didn’t really settle,” Okay, now what?”

“I don’t know. Guess I was just expecting something else.”

Eddie considered it to himself. Sure, Nancy Wheeler, the one he saw around the halls of the high school, would like a love song aimed at her favorite celebrity crush. But Nancy Wheeler, the one that led a campaign through desolate wastelands and commanded her team to make it back home? Twice? Was it really just a slow, drawn-on love song that made that girl feel… alive? Or fulfilled? Impassioned?

He wasn’t sure he bought it. And maybe he should have, because they’ve barely interacted before he was on the lam. But, in the time he’s spent near her since, in the time he’s had to see her exist in a different way than she usually did… well, he became sure that there was more to her than that.

“Maybe you don’t know your Wheelers as well as you thought.” She hummed,” Well? Have you been inspired?”

Eddie picked back up the newspaper and thumbed at the front page. Under his name was a picture of him. Blown up from the ones they’d taken of all the Hellfire members at the beginning of the school year to advertise the club. It wasn’t the one where he tried to look tough, it wasn’t the one where he tried to look wild, it wasn’t even the one where he’d been smiling so stiffly for five minutes that his cheeks hurt because no one would stay still for a clear shot.

It was the one where he turned to the side, looked at Jeff making a dumb face, and laughed so hard he had to brace himself on Bruce’s shoulder. His whole face was getting red because he couldn’t even breathe.

It was a good one. Genuine laughter and joy instead of the character he often played up. “The Freak” was someone he’d grown to know pretty well since it was given a name. But sometimes it felt like he lost track of the other stuff. Sometimes it felt like he barely knew the real guy printed on that page. What was that guy’s favorite song? He honestly wasn’t sure.

Nancy followed his gaze to the image of his own open mouth smile, eyes scrunched up by his flushed cheeks. And in some strange way, she knew what sort of thing he was feeling. Because maybe she knew how it felt to be so unsure of who was really smiling in all her pictures.

“Well…” she broke the silence that had bloomed between them again,” I guess if you need a little longer to figure it out, we don’t plan to waltz back into the Upside Down tonight or anything. But you can’t procrastinate. Because, if Venca comes back before we’re ready for him, you’re not going on the battlefield without a lifeline.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he gave her a stiff salute, which she returned with another roll of her eyes.

The two of them ended up chatting a little longer. Nancy had only really planned on stopping by for a bit and then heading off to help the rest of the gang fix up Hop’s cabin, but she found it surprisingly easy to talk to Eddie. They hadn’t really spoken at all before Spring Break, and they hadn’t had any time during to see how well they got along... but turns out, they did.

Plus he did need to know the school’s plans. There were calls rung around town about starting classes back up on Monday. That was news he was a little less eager to hear. Compared to an article trying to repair public opinion of him, returning to the halls of Hawkins High School wasn’t an exciting thought.

He let out a groan and scrubbed his hands down his face,” Shit… I was kinda hoping they’d just call the whole year a wash and let everyone graduate anyway…”

“Come on, it’s just a couple more weeks to push through, and then we’ll all be out of there. Should be way easier than saving the world as an extracurricular.”

“For you, it might be. I’m sure with your stellar grades you could practically check out for finals and still pass just fine.”

“Well, that’s exaggerating a little bit-”

“Whereas, I’m going to have to bust ass between demon fights to even scrape by.” Eddie dramatically slumped back into the bed,” Fuck, man. This next month and a half are gonna be so awful, I’ll actually be able to say it was worse than hell on Earth.”

Nancy looked at him wallowing in his woes for a second before she wondered,“ So why don’t we get through it together?”

Very quickly, Eddie sprang back up a few inches,“ What?”

“Well, I’m still waiting for your answer on what your favorite song is, and it’s always easier to study with someone else there. More fun too. So, surely we can pull each other through finals and safely into graduation.”

“I feel like you’re signing up for the lion’s share of pulling, Wheeler.” Eddie pointed out.

She just raised an eyebrow at him,“ Are you saying no?”

“No! I am not saying no. Nancy Wheeler helping me drag myself through Ms. O’Donnell’s end-of-year essay sounds like way better odds than I was previously rocking with.”

“Oh… you’re stuck in Ms. O’Donnell’s?” Nancy’s voice pitched with pure sympathy. The woman was pretty well known as the one English teacher to avoid getting assigned to if students wanted to pass their classes and have any kind of social life over the last quarter of the year.

“Yup.” Eddie popped the “p” and knocked his head to the side,” I tried to get ‘em to move me into Mr. Fitzpatrick’s instead - you’d think on a third go around they could throw a guy a bone - but the front office still put the witch on my schedule anyway.”

“But you’ll get through it this time,” Nancy assured him. And there was just something about seeing Nancy Wheeler declare such a thing. She seemed so sure about it that he just kind of had to believe her.

But Eddie still shrugged,“ If I don’t, you can just let me bleed out on the battlefield this time. No, siree, I’ve been swearing for years now that I’m going to flip off the principal when I walk across the stage, so Eddie Munson isn’t coming back at all if he can’t shove it to Higgins at the end of all this bullshit.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

It was a little bit morbid. To joke about leaving him for dead the next time considering it was such a close call to get him back at all. But it was funny, and Nancy needed the laugh. Somewhere along the way she ended up saying the "thank you" she’d thought about when she was sure it was over for them. For giving Mike a safer place to be a freak, where he wouldn't get hurt. Eddie laughed and said he didn’t do much. He was just some guy who prowled the halls for the other nerds he could snatch up.

Nancy named it a noble calling.

They both laughed some more.

Nancy ended up at Hop’s Cabin with the rest of the crew to get to work later.

She’d been set with Jonathan to work on covering up the empty windows - they planned to get the glass replaced down the road. The kids were mostly unpacking the house of all its items and broken furniture, throwing it out into the clearing in front. El was organizing the things that survived, and Will swept out the dusty, dirtied floors. Argyle had apparently spent much of the morning wandering around the wooded vicinity and exploring the local foliage. But since then, he’d taken t looking over the scrap pieces and making claims like “Yeah, yeah, I could make something work with this…” Seeming to think he was going to rebuild a whole family’s worth of home decor from the trimmings left behind by the meat monster.

Murray was sitting on a box, tugging at wires and making notes of the setup running through the house. Fussing over the electrical while Hopper worked on getting running water out of more than just the kitchen sink. And by the time Robin and Steve finally rolled around after looking over things at Family Video, most of the working day was done. Excuses of well-worn backs from cleaning up the store and figuring out how to run the place filled the air as they leaned against the wall and watched Joyce and Jim bicker about if the shower pipe was actually rusted stuck or just not being wrenched hard enough.

As the sun began to set around them, folks made their goodbyes and started heading back for home again. The boys had plans to go call the other Hellfire members and visit Eddie and Max the next morning. Erica vowed she’d be there too, but Will and El said they’d help Steve and Robin finish sorting the tapes on the shelves and mailing back the ones corporate was supposed to send a list for. And they'd carry all the supplies they were going to buy at Radio Shack for Murray’s idea of combining radio comms with the cassette players. Dustin also wanted to get in on the action with developing, much to Murray's protest.

When Steve and the rest of his houseguests drove up towards his house, there was already another car in the driveway. Two people stood outside on the concrete, their backs to the street, looking up at the house number over the front door while holding a map out in front of them. They both turned around as soon as they heard the beamer and pizza van begin to roll into their usual parking spots and not merely pass the house on the corner lot by.

The taller of the two had to be in his thirties or forties. Short, dirty blonde hair and a defined mustache over his lips, dressed in loose-fitting jeans, boots, and a peach-colored tee-shirt that said “Grand Canyon, 1986” over his slightly muscular build. The shorter of the two was clearly a teenager. He had a curly mop of lighter blonde and was leaner. Sporting light wash denim shorts and a black long-sleeve top, printed with a stylized landscape of, assumably, the Grand Canyon in shades of terracotta orange and red.

The two of their eyes watched him pull into place before they looked at the car behind him. Hopper rolled down his window and shouted out “THERE YOU TWO ARE!” in joyful greeting. The older man’s lips immediately curled into a smile. Haphazardly closing the map and throwing it into the seat of their car, stepping up to those just arriving.

“Almost thought you’d given us faulty directions, American. No one answered the door.” He’d said, thick Eastern European accent on display as he approached.

Hop climbed out of the van and fired back,“ I have a life now that I’m out from behind bars, don’t you know?”

As the stranger laughed, they closed the distance with a quick hug. The kind where they both smacked a hand on the other’s back before they parted. Kind of like old friends, but more like brothers of war. Which is closer to what they were to each other, in some sort of way.

“I take it you made it over okay?” Hopper asked him, casting a look at the boy standing just behind him.

“Oh, yes, it was a smooth drive from California,” he assured,” No speeding, no policemen. But perhaps we made a stop or two along the way. We are first-timers to the country, after all. Said we should ‘see the sights’ while we had chance to.”

“Didn’t think defeating monsters beyond all conceivable horror was a good enough reason to get here as urgently as possible?” Murray questioned the man with crossed arms and a judgmental tone.

“What? If the monsters ended up no big deal, figured you’d have the problem all cleaned up by time we arrived. Otherwise, you’d still be in trouble, and I help out now. You all look fine as I last saw you, so first option?”

Hop scoffed,” Like it’d be that easy.”

Eventually, they all run through the necessary introductions; Dmitri and Mikhail to Steve, Will, and El. They all helped unpack what was really Joyce’s car that’d been stuffed with more clothes and personal effects for the journey across half the country. Boxes and bags were loaded into the house along with a tour to the second guest bedroom that the father and son would be sharing in the meantime, while Karen’s provided lasagna started getting reheated in the oven.

They ran through updates about what had been figured out over the last few days and gathered around the dining room for dinner.

Maybe about twenty minutes into casual getting-to-know-each-other topics, Steve thought about music.

“Oh, we’ll need to make sure we have songs for you two too. Nancy’ll want to know-” but then a thought occurred to him that he hadn’t really considered before,” Wait… did you guys even have music over there?” Joyce, Jim, and Murray had mentioned all the sorts of stuff their smuggler had at the warehouse - peanut butter being treated like a controlled substance seemed ridiculous - so how much did they have?

Immediately, Dmitri’s expression fell. He set his fork down on the plate and put his hands together. He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again it seemed like his accent was heavier, more sullen than it had been just a minute before.

“Oh no. In Soviet Union, we have no songs. Only national anthem.” He’d said, English more broken and stunted than Steve had heard from him throughout the evening.

Next to him, Mikhail piped up.

“Only national anthem,” he repeated from his father,” Is only song I ever heard in whole life. They made sure, for propaganda to take. Only fascist tune, otherwise peasant revolt.”

Steve was stunned to hear such a thing,“ Wow… that’s…”

But then Dmitri and Mikhail’s grim faces began to break under the pressure. Smiles bubbled up and broke through the surface as they both started snickering.

“Wait a minute…” Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, little American, that was a joke.” Dmitri admitted as the rest of the table fell into laughter around them,” We had music back there. They only tightened up on such things in recent years. I myself much enjoyed The Beatles. Had many albums back home. Mikhail always said I played them too much-”

“Because you did-” the boy tried to point out.

“And you liked tempting fate, nearly trying to get in trouble. He liked the rebellious things. Always running off or sneaking away to some secret concert in those- those rock revolutionaries' circles. Lucky he never actually got caught at any.”

“I am quick on my feet,” the kid said with a hint of a cocky attitude.

Must’ve performed that stunt enough times that he thought he was invincible, but his dad knew much better than that. Dmitri ruffled his hair and told him not to act like a big man when he was still a child. Mikhail rolled his eyes and shoved his dad’s hand away.

They seemed good. Steve hadn’t admitted the thought to anyone, but he’d been a little worried. Russians in their town again, one that used to be a prison warden… it could’ve been familiar. People talked about that kind of stuff, soldiers being shellshocked and triggered even after they made it home. Even if Steve was safe in his house, surrounded by people he knew wouldn’t just let something happen to him, it could’ve made the memories too fresh again. Brought back nightmares he thought he laid to rest.

But, thankfully, so much between Dmitri and Mikhail was different from the bowels of the Starcourt Mall. He met them outside, basked in the warm sunset glow, wearing touristy clothes and smiling with sincerity. It wasn’t like being trapped, inside cold walls and dim lights, surrounded by uniforms and cruel expressions. Steve wasn’t starving and covered in drying blood. Steve wasn’t alone, or thinking that someone was going to die because of him.

It was very, very different. And that made it all the easier to be in. To laugh and joke, because it didn’t feel the same.

And while they might’ve not been able to find the same artists Mikhail had enjoyed back there, they started making plans to get him some stuff to listen to by musicians they had playing in the States. Maybe Eddie’s tapes would be making all the rounds, or maybe he’d like the kind of songs some other member of The Party held on to. They’d just have to explore.

So Mikhail was assigned the homework of playing through tapes like a wine tasting, and Dmitri was going to help with things around the house and Hopper’s cabin.

[lazylittledragon]

'i'll just do a couple of doodles of mombin™/platonic stobin parents' nevermind, borderline graphic novel

[xiakeik]

You think Pyramid Steve to Bill is like Doodlebob to Spongebob or something like that

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok of himself waking Steve up at midnight on June 1st like, “Babe, wake up. Stevie.”

“Huh?”

“Guess what month it is?”

Steve, making a valiant effort but slowly losing the battle to stay awake, blinks in his general direction and then says, “…Steve Harrington, Chicago…2004.”

“I’m not giving you a concussion test!” Eddie exclaims and then, “You got one of those wrong.”

Steve just stares at him like, “Which one?”

“The year.”

“Time is an illusion.”

Steve lays back down as Eddie nods more or less. It was 1984 in 1986, so he’s not exactly wrong.

He nudges him before telling him why he actually woke him up, “It’s pride month.”

“I have pride in you every month.”

[sp0o0kylights]

We often see Robin focused on her own love life (or lack thereof) while Steve collects more You Suck tallies on the board, but imagine Steve does find a girl he dates that he hits it off with?

He aces dates 1 through 5 and suddenly he's around a little less, his new relationship looking serious, and Robin isn't jealous but--

She is worried.

That's her best friend. Her platonic soulmate!

She doesn't think Steve would ever stop being those things--Her dingus has a soft squishy heart under all that hair.

Problem is, Robin's seen this play out before.

Had band friends drift away because someone's dating someone else and suddenly they're all wrapped up in each other's lives, friends pushed to the wayside.

She doesn't say anything though. Knows how lonely Steve is. How much he wants (and deserves) a relationship.

Then the worst possible fucking thing happens: Steve's new girl telling him she isn't comfortable with Robin.

That she doesn't believe girls and guys can be "just friends" and would Steve please stop seeing Robin so much? Please?

Her friends even saw him taking Robin out to lunch yesterday and thought he was cheating!

Of course she knows Steve isn't cheating. He'll prove it to her, right? By letting Robin know they can only be coworkers? And their friendship?

Robin hears all this at her and Steve's next shared work shift, and she feels the floor of her world give out beneath her.

Fear and hurt crawling up her throat because of course Steve can't tell whatever her name is why Robin will never date him.

Of course this chick clearly isn't taking Steve's regular excuses as an answer, and--oh God, what if Robin is losing him, isn't she?

Then Steve's done talking, clearly expecting Robin to say something, and oops she may have been panicking and not listening there at the end but she manages a very choked up;

"I mean if you think shes like, the one..." because what is she supposed to say!?

And Steve, the only person Robin's met who craves a relationship as much as she does if not more, frowns at her with a bitchy little twist to his face and says: "What part of "so I told her that was ridiculous and we broke up" didn't you hear?"

Robin gasps a breath, the world stable once again. She doesn't know when she started crying but she does register Steve's panic when he clocks it, panicking and pulling her into a hug.

"Oh my God did you think I'd agree with her!?" He says and he sounds a little hurt about it, she'll have to fix that, but presently all Robin can do is cling to her best friend and sink deep into the knowledge that he really won't leave her.

Even for the things he wants in life the most.

[imfinereallyy]

Steve finds love in clean sheets.

He comes home on a Wednesday night to his, Robin’s, and Eddie’s apartment, exhausted. They are packed in like sardines in the place; Robin gets a room to herself, having the space to create her own identity. But Eddie and Steve share a room and do so without much complaint.

They both want her happy.

They are friends, so it’s normal to share a room. It’s probably less normal to share a bed—but the space is small and they have so many things, so sharing a full bed is easier than squeezing twins into corners.

Steve doesn’t mind it being so close to Eddie. Thinks he should be worried about that feeling, but finds he isn’t bothered at all.

Their habits rarely butt heads, their organization skills somehow meet in the middle, and Steve doesn’t care how Eddie decorates as long he’s okay with the nail bat placed under the bed.

The only thing that is a problem that really isn’t much of a problem, is the bed sheets. Sometimes, Eddie forgets, so Steve’s taken it upon himself to change them. It’s not that he doesn’t like the smell of Eddie that lingers. It smells of a home he didn’t know he had on a warm summer day.

But after work, especially on hard days, Steve likes to shower and bury himself beneath clean sheets. The cold, smooth texture rubbing against he legs, the fresh linen scent feeling up his nose.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie notices; he is almost positive, and even if he did, he wouldn’t bat an eye. So Steve changes his sheets every five days or so, more often than really necessary.

Until this Wednesday night.

Steve isn’t having a good day—in fact, he would categorize it as one of his worst yet. Work was hell, and nothing was going his way. Steve walks into the apartment to see Robin and Eddie on the couch, and all Steve wants is to shower and crawl into a clean bed.

The problem is, though—the day from hell has actually been the week from hell, and Steve realizes he hasn’t changed his sheets in a week.

Steve groans as he heads towards the shower, ignoring the curious look from his friends. He begrudgingly accepts his fate—a dirty bed in exchange for an early sleep. Steve bangs his head on the bathroom wall.

Steve exits, and moves to his room to throw on boxers and a tshirt he almost sure is Eddie’s.

Then, he lifts the blankets and snuggles inside only to realize—the sheets feel amazing. They feel clean.

Steve glances down at them, realizes they are the flower sheets Eddie hates—replacing the dark grey ones that had been there this morning.

Steve knows undoubtedly that Eddie is the one who changed them. Steve could write it off as Eddie finally remembering a chore, but he can’t lie to his heart.

It knows Eddie did this for him.

Steve lets out a huge sigh of relief as he sinks down into the clean sheets, the smell of linen wafted through the air with hints of Eddie’s cologne from his shirt.

Steve snuggles into the bed—taking Eddie’s pillow instead of his own, and falls asleep to the steady thought that Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had.

[shushmal]

There's an incredibly pretty girl at the front desk in Family Video, and Steve—Eddie's boyfriend of eight months—is leaning over the counter with a sly smile and half-lidded eyes.

Eddie pauses in the doorway, struck dumb for a moment as he takes in the scene, and then gleefully ducks down behind the nearest shelf.

"So tell me," Steve says, all low and intimate. "What kind of movie were you looking for?"

"Um," the girl says. She doesn't sound very enthusiastic—barely indulgent at best. Eddie wishes he could see, but any sight of him will ruin Steve's chances right now. He's got a pretty good mental picture though. "I really like those old black and white movies, the really glamorous ones, you know?"

"Oh, totally," Steve sighs, like he's swooning. "Like Cary Grant, Clarke Gabel?" Eddie can practically hear his smirk. "Katharine Hepburn? Ginger Rogers?"

"Oh, I love Ginger Rogers!"

"Really?" Steve says matching her excitement. "Well, you're just in luck! Robin here knows all about those old black and white movies, don't you Robin?"

Eddie presses a hand to his mouth to hide his snickering. Robin had looked like a hooked fish when he'd walked in, she's gotta be gaping stupidly right now. "Uuuh," he hears her mumbling, and tries not to snort too loud. "Y-Yeah, uh, golden age of Hollywood stuff, absolutely. I could? Show you where they are?"

"Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!" the girl says, her interest in the conversation now warmed by several degrees. Eddie is still a little in awe of how well his boyfriend can sniff out gay girls.

"I got the front here, Robin," Steve cuts in smoothly. "You ladies take your time, make sure you pick out a good one!"

Eddie waits another beat, listening at their footsteps shuffle away, before he pops up from behind the shelf. Steve, lighting up like a Christmas tree, beams at him.

"Am I a genius or what?" he whispers, grinning ear to ear.

"Your lesbian powers know no equal," Eddie says just as quietly, taking the girl's spot at the counter, leaning into Steve's space. Steve happily mirrors him, until they're tucked together, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It's Eddie's favorite place to be. "All hail Steve Harrington, blessid he, lesbian whisper. Come to aid all useless queers in the fight against singledom."

"Thank you, thank you," Steve says with an air of novel benevolence. "I promise to only use my powers for good."

"Dingus. Doofus."

They jump away from each other as if shocked. Robin glowers at them both, but the pretty girl behind her is giggling and standing way too close for friendly, just at Robin's elbow.

"Move it, lovebirds," she hisses as she rounds the desk. "I need to check Claire out."

"I think you already have," Steve says. His smile this time is down right evil.

Robin actually hisses at him, and hip checks him away from the register. Eddie does a bow, sweeping his arm out to give Claire the prime spot in front of the desk, before he turns back to Steve.

"My dear, if you could please," he simpers, all posh and nasally. "Show me to your finest, grossest horror movie, thank you my good sir."

"Ugh," Steve groans already heading off into the shelves, not waiting for Eddie to follow. "You're lucky I love you, Ed. Shit gives me nightmares."

"I know," Eddie sings, chasing him. "I love you too."

[cressidascowper]

OLIVIA COOKE & EMMA D'ARCY for MTV Movies

[ace-bucket]

Happy 107th Birthday Bucky Barnes 🎉

[hairmetal666]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a nate bargatze sketch

Eddie’s least favorite thing people say when they find out he’s gay and married to a man is when they ask who the “man” of their house is, because…it’s fucking stupid and wouldn’t be funny even if it didn’t rely on patriarchal bullshit that Eddie didn’t buy into even before he and Steve had three daughters.

The thing is though…there definitely is a man of their house, and it’s Steve.

And if Steve isn’t home, it’s their oldest daughter, Moe.

Eddie knows this is true because there’s someone coming to their house to work on…something. All Eddie caught when Steve brought it up was, “We’ve been in this house for almost twenty years. I’d rather deal with it now than wait until it’s causing problems.”

So it’s either the roof, the water heater, or the furnace.

(He thinks).

Every once in a while Eddie gets frustrated enough about this to want to get more involved – he helped Wayne out with this shit all the time when he was a teenager, and he worked as a mechanic well into his twenties (up until he got his first book deal and was able to quit and write full-time). It’s not that Eddie can’t understand all that stuff – no, it’s Steve insisting that he take on all that kind of stuff in their life together so that Eddie didn’t have to that did it, and now it’s been so long since he exercised that part of his brain that it’s basically gone dormant.

The nail in the coffin is when Steve says, “If he shows up before I get back – do not engage. Get Moe. She knows what this is all about.”

She totally does, is the thing, so Eddie just replies, “Got it,” and prays that Steve gets home from the hardware store before the contractor arrives (is he a contractor? Eddie doesn’t think he even knows what a contractor is).

Naturally, not even five minutes after Steve pulls out of the driveway, a dark blue van pulls in.

“Ah, shit,” Eddie mumbles, and then he calls upstairs, “Moe. The guy Pop was talking about is here.”

Moe calls something incomprehensible back (hopefully it’s I’ll be down in a second) because by the looks of it this guy is already halfway to the front door.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Moe is not down in a second and he ends up in a conversation about water heaters with…not a contractor, he’s pretty sure. A plumber, maybe? Doesn’t matter – just a guy who’s gonna fix – or maybe it’s replace? – their water heater…for some reason.

“So where’s the heater?” the not-contractor-maybe-plumber asks.

“Uhh…” Eddie hesitates, and thank Christ, Moe appears at the top of the stairs.

“Basement,” she says, “Anode rod was replaced three years ago but the rest of it’s been there since we moved here in ‘04.”

The guy launches into a whole water heater spiel, and Eddie realizes halfway through he’s not trying to engage with Moe at all. He’s directing it all at Eddie as if Eddie is hearing anything more than Charlie Brown-esque phone call mumbling. He concludes with a question about…something related to tanks maybe? Or maybe it was tankless. Eddie has no idea. Moe answers it because she knows what the hell this guy is talking about, but still this asshole is looking at Eddie for confirmation.

“Dude, I dunno why you're looking at me,” Eddie tells him, and then he points at Moe, “My daughter works on airplanes. I write books. I'm telling you – you're better off listening to her.”

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[bugisbonkerz]

pleaz be nice to my son he has no arms

[morganbritton132]

Eddie post a Tiktok of an old home video. In the video, he’s twenty-one, messy haired, laying on his side in bed facing the camera, and he looks like shit. His eyes are glassy, his nose is rubbed red, and his voice is thick the way it always is when he’s sick.

“This is a message for future Eddie,” Eddie tells the camera. “If you decide to spend the rest of your life with a man that spends all his free time babysitting - and I know you, you do want to spend your life with him - get used to catching every virus in town.”

In the video, Steve pops up behind Eddie and wraps himself around him, looking just as sick. His eyes never open as he cuddles closer, resting his head in the curve of Eddie’s neck and his hand on his chest over his heart. Steve sounds like he’s already falling back to sleep when he asks, “Who’re you talking to?”

Eddie looks into the camera like, “Myself.”

“Say hi for me.”

[lazer-meme]

love love love steddie + supportive wanye

thinking about wayne and eddie going on an annual fishing trip (like thee Munson Men Annual Fishing Trip™️) just like a little weekend away. and the first one is coming up after eddie and steve starts dating. over breakfast eddie jokingly complains about having to go and tries to get out of it. but wayne is used to his dramatics so he just gives hmms when appropriate because eddie’s whole spiel never got him out of it before and he tells eddie that.

steve watches the whole exchange with amusement when wayne asks if he’s looking forward to it. and he’s like ??? because he assumed it was just a wayne and eddie thing. and wayne is like i just told eddie all munsons must go can’t get out of it kid.

steve gets flustered and is internally is like oh??? all munsons,,,

or like after the trip a neighbor asks wayne if they caught anything and he pulls out his wallet to show a picture they took on the trip. wayne passes it with ‘here’s a picture of my boys’ and to steve’s surprise it’s a picture of both him and eddie with their biggest catch.

and just idk wayne casually accepting steve into their family and throwing steve off guard with it.