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psychotic-nonsense · 17 days ago

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Amateurs

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Credit for the idea - and some of the fic entirely - goes out to @thesolarangel !!!!! They allowed me to use their lovely idea, so many thanks, my friend!! Added my own flair but I hope I did your thoughts justice :D

Fudging the timeline a lil for this too. Continuity errors? Plotholes? The hell you going on about, bud, it's Valentines Day, we're just having fun here ;]

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Dear Steve Harrington, You are the most handsome, athletic, and considerate man I've ever known, and I want you to be my valentine. Meet me in the band hall at 4pm Love, your secret admirer

Steve eyes the note warily, confusion morphing his face. He can feel how comical it must look, but he doesn't really care. He just can't comprehend what he's looking at.

Senior year, fallen off his throne, the apocalypse factory sealed away (for forever, hopefully). He forgets how mundane life is outside of the hell he's lived the past three- almost four years.

Proven by the fact that, apparently, someone's left a Valentines card in his locker. And a little over a week until the day itself, no less.

It's the end of the school day, already 3:45. The note wasn't there this morning, so it must've been dropped somewhere throughout the day. He puts away his notebooks, closes the locker door, all while staring at the note.

Robin - the unlikely new friendship from this last summer from hell - is neck-deep in the locker across the hall from him, rambling about her day (and Vickie) and completely ignoring any outside force. It takes a little shove to get her out of her stupor.

"Hey, I was talking about something important here-"

"Oh sure, your endless pining is so interesting," he retorts, the hallway already blissfully empty so he can make such a joke. He shoves the note into Robin's face, holding it as she mouths the message to herself. "Any info about this?"

Robin scoffs, shoving Steve's hand away. "You know I'm bad at romance stuff, why ask me?" She turns back around to finish whatever she was doing in her locker.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I mean, do you have any idea who this could be? I don't know anyone from band."

"Who said it's from someone in band?"

"The note?"

"School's out, who's going to be in there? Pretty good place to sneak away for a Valentines meetup. Besides, I don't know everyone from band, what do you take me for, social?" She fake gags.

"Right, you just know the one-" He gets a shove on the arm for that.

"Sorry, Cupid, think you're on your own this time. Besides, you have been looking for a girl, right? Here's one falling right in your lap," Robin says, finally closing her locker. She pats his cheek, starting to walk away. "Hop to it, you're cutting it close!"

Steve stands frozen, watching her leave him behind. "Wha- I drove you here!" he calls out. "Where are you going-"

"It's Wednesday!" Robin calls over her shoulder. Right, the 'maintenance day' for Robin and her bike ("You can't forget how to ride a bike, Robs-" "Well I'm not testing it!"). No alibi for Steve, it seems.

He sighs heavily, quickly checking his watch. 3:55. He turns back to the note, seriously eyeing it and considering what might come out of this.

Oh well. Steve's not one to let someone down with punctuality, plus Robin was kinda right. Whether or not he'll have to let down this poor girl, he'll have to see.

He walks through the halls to the band room. Senses a little on edge from that uncanny feeling, but he does his best to ignore it. Hell's closed up, and everything's okay.

He makes it to the band hall just in time, yet upon walking in, the place is barren. Nothing but chairs and stands and the half-lit lights. Strange, how much more disappointed Steve feels about being stood up than he thought he would - meaning any at all. Still stings to know he's not always wanted.

Always needed, always the babysitter.

He's just about to turn around when a loud CRASH sounds from the far wall, and a storage closet door rattles as someone swears behind it.

Instincts now fully blaring in his ears, Steve immediately drops his backpack by the door and picks up a music stand, running to the back in a burst of energy. Upon throwing the door open, however, all that happens is a body falling into him, and the box said person was holding once again crashing to the floor.

Steve, in primary protective mode, drops the stand and grabs the person before they both hit the ground. A mop of dark hair is shoved into his mouth with an earthy cloud of smell around it, with a masculine grunt as they're caught and the feel of denim under Steve's hands.

Steve barely gets the person in a standing position without falling over himself, and this person takes a minute to get their legs working again. But they finally pick themselves up and massage their hands and something about that hair and smell seems so familiar...

"Whew! Thanks, man, I thought I was toast under that thing- Harrington?"

The person- guy finally turns around with a grateful smile that falls the moment he makes eye contact.

Eddie Munson. Local town Freak and D&D master, and the name Steve has heard way too much about since last semester. Thank the kids for joining that damn club.

Of course, Steve knew the guy already, word travels fast and appearances stay familiar in small towns. A three-peat senior, not too unlike Steve's super senior status (brain got too rattled after '84, and '85 didn't make it much better). A showman, either in the cafeteria or Steve's English class, he's always got something to make the people laugh. The kids praise him like a god, the halls whisper that he's the copycat of a deadbeat, and the town preaches that he's the harbinger of their fake hell.

But Munson doesn't seem dangerous to Steve right now. Nothing bad at all, actually, standing here under the light of a single sputtering light bulb that reflects in his big doe-like eyes just right, haloing his wispy hair into something angelic, and if Steve saw him in any other context he'd almost think him cute-

Oh.

Well shit.

It's well past 4pm. Munson's in the band hall by himself, in the dark.

Robin and Dustin have been telling Steve to 'broaden his horizons,' and didn't Steve himself say he 'liked more' in that food court booth?

And writing love letters sounds like something only a nerd would do...

Could it be him...?

"Munson, h-hey," Steve stutters out, realizing it's been a bit too long since anything was said. He throws the confused-curious-scared-relieved crisis to the back of his mind, focusing all his energy on just acting normal. 'Casual' went out the damn window when one of his hands ran through his hair. "What, uh.. what're you doing here?"

Thank god for that simple little response. Eddie latches on to it with a smile that makes little dimples show on his cheek, though they're gone too soon when he turns to kick the half cardboard, half duct tape box still in the storage closet.

"Just repaying some old debts," he says, that same jesting lightness he'd throw in quips against Mrs. Schneider. Eddie snaps his fingers, brings those so bright eyes back around to Steve. "Say, think you could give me a hand? Could use some old jock strength here."

Steve lets the jab roll past him, he's heard worse from the kids. He just agrees - because who is Steve Harrington if not ever helpful? - and steps into the cramped storage closet. It takes some maneuvering to make sure the poor thing doesn't fall apart in his arms, but he gets the box up off the ground. Nothing too strenuous, but Eddie is quick to direct Steve on which shelf to place the box. One more strain against the old cardboard gets them both in a panicked frenzy, but their combined push gets the box settled.

Now they're cramped in a tight storage closet shoulder to shoulder, and Steve is hyperaware of the presence. Eddie doesn't seem like that bad of a guy, he's willing to give it a shot, but he's afraid his charm might not work the same-

Eddie lightly slaps Steve's arm, drawing his attention and dear lord his eyes look so much brighter now- "Not that I'm not grateful for the aid, Mister Strongman, but only satisfaction brings a curious cat back." He leans against the opposite shelving of the closet easily, not very eager to leave the tiny space, it seems. "What brings you into the den of us freaks?"

Eddie looks so confident, speaks every word with an air of comfort and ease, that it makes the last of Steve's anxiety leave him in a huff of light laughter. He just draws in a breath, suddenly very curious to see where this goes, and starts up the charm.

"You tell me, Munson," he responds lightly. Tilts his head so he's looking up at Eddie through his eyelashes, pulls the face Nancy used to call stupid and begs that it isn't anymore. The smile is easy, though. It's so easy to smile around a presence like this.

Yet Eddie's comfort immediately wavers, and he looks surprised. "Uh..." he chuckles out nervously, "what's that supposed to mean, Harrington?"

Oh, so Munson plays hard to get? He can work with that. So much more familiar in this game, Steve just saunters the last few inches to face Eddie with only a breath's space between them. Keeps just enough distance, though, to make them both crave the closeness, leaning against the shelf beside Eddie to look down on him. "C'mon, Eddie... you know why I'm here."

And may the corpses of Upside Down monsters be his witness, Eddie "The Freak" Munson damn near blushes at the tone and proximity. Bingo.

"I- uh-" Eddie clears his throat. "'Fraid I don't recall," he mutters. There's a little bit of tension in his shoulders, hidden in the motion as Eddie leans further into the little space between them, staring Steve right in the eyes as he says, "Care to enlighten me?"

Steve is more than happy to remind him, especially if it gets the last of that tension out of him. It doesn't look right on Eddie. The line's been cast, the lovely fish caught, and now it's time to reel it in. "Well, got word lately of a new... development in Hawkins High." Steve meets Eddie's eyes and loses himself in them a little. "Figured I'd come by to talk to the source."

To Steve, it's the smoothest pickup line this side of the midwest.

But Eddie's entire demeanor sours in an instant. His shoulders tense, his eyebrow furrows so much that glorious light is gone, and he leans forward not by want, but by attack. "Alright, listen here Harrington, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt for those kids, but I swear if you don't pick your next words carefully-"

"Woah woah woah, hey wait!" Steve immediately backs up to give Eddie space - not much considering they're still in the damn closet, Steve walks right into the opposite shelving rack with a loud clatter - the tension in the air taking an instant 180. "I didn't- What did they- What're you talking about, I didn't mean any harm!!"

Eddie's still eyeing him warily, but he's not leaving despite the open door. That's a start. "What did you mean then, your highness?" he spits, and it sends a crack straight through Steve's heart.

One that shines light on the ignorant hope resting all on that damn...

"Did... did you not want to talk to me?" Steve asks quietly.

The volume seems to wear Eddie down a little too, as the light comes back to his eyes and the tension loosens. "Where'd you get that idea?" he asks, stern but lacking in power.

Suddenly this whole attempt - finding the note, following it, saving Eddie from the box, helping him, daring to take the leap - feels so fucking stupid that Steve can't believe he went through with it.

But Eddie's looking at him like he genuinely wants to know. Not just to get Steve away, but to know what's got him so out of sorts. Like he's bothering to care.

So Steve fumbles for the words with Eddie waiting patiently, his defenses falling with each failed sentence as Steve's too open heart shows him everything. In the end, Steve gives up, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out the note. Looks away from Eddie as he holds it out for him to take. Feels his treacherous heart stutter at the brush of their hands as Eddie takes it. Can't bear to turn around, his face too flushed and his heart too worn as he hears the note crinkle, at Eddie's tiny gasp as everything clicks.

"Steve..." Eddie whispers, pleads, and Steve is oh so weak to such a sound. He looks up and comes face to face with an expression just as hopeful, as daring, as Steve has felt this entire interaction.

Eddie's a smart guy, it seems. He knows. But still he dares to ask. "You... thought I wrote this?"

Steve clears his throat, can't look away as he waves at the note held almost reverently in Eddie's hand. "It was 4pm when I showed up, wasn't it?" Jokes, feels the sincerity choke him a little. Eddie laughs like he gets it, looks back down at the note.

"I'm almost insulted then, Steve." Something happens to his face then that crushes all of the leftover tension in the closet. Brings back the right one with a teasing glance back at him, Steve's heart stuttering again. "This little thing-" he waves the note, "-was written by a complete amateur."

It's the same game, same rules, but he's playing with a teammate now and it feels so much sweeter. "Oh yeah?" Steve tempts. Doesn't try looking a certain way, not The King or The Hair. Just Steve. "Think you could do better?"

"Mhm, certainly," Eddie drawls. He looks back down at the note, steps off the shelf but doesn't dare step closer. "Shouldn't expect much, it's just an invitation... but to encourage an appearance, one should entice the recipient with the truth." He takes a slow, single step forward. To Steve it feels like crossing the world just to get them closer. "I'll give the girl this, she got all this right. But it just scratches the surface, doesn't it?"

Finally, Eddie looks up, and his eyes are black holes that Steve never wants to fight and his smile one that Steve would blind himself on if it meant it was the last thing he ever saw.

It's a universal truth that Steve Harrington falls hard. But the way Eddie's looking at him makes him hope like a fool that Eddie fell first.

"Because based on what I've seen..." Eddie takes another step closer, enough for their feet to rest beside each other, their knees almost touching, "Steve Harrington isn't just considerate, or athletic.

"He's brave. Smart. Loyal. Selfless. Seems like he'll throw himself into danger if it meant he's saving a life." Eddie takes that last step forward, leans fully into Steve's space with an open expression that is at once confident-scared-hopeful-real. Steve wouldn't look away if his life depended on it, because dying under Eddie's touch, Eddie's words, Eddie's gaze, would be the kindest death he could ever have.

"He's kind, cares so much it's a wonder his heart has room for the blood that keeps such a perfect guy alive." Eddie's almost whispering now. The shelving biting into their every limb is second to the tension pushing them together. "And while handsome is true, I'd have rather used something like... gorgeous."

That's when Eddie's eyes drift down to watch the shiver those words send through Steve catch right on his lip. "Sounds much more fitting, don't you think, Stevie?" Eddie looks back up to meet Steve's, and it's the most exposed Eddie's ever seemed, the most seen Steve's ever felt.

Steve can't breathe, can barely move his head in fear of being scalded by the heat of his face. "Yeah..." he gasps out. Swallows, his voice shaking as he forces it to move. "S-something like that..."

Steve Harrington is stuttering. He couldn't be ashamed if he tried, because what else could a weak man do to survive this?

The last of Eddie's confidence slips then, like he's just as weak. "Tell me I'm wrong," he whispers, pleads. "Tell me all the wishing I've done all this time was for nothing."

Steve doesn't have to. All he has to do is take that final leap, grabbing Eddie's waist. It's the answer to the begging left unsaid.

Waits to catch Eddie as he finally, finally closes that last tiny space.

Eddie kisses Steve with the emotion of a hundred years of waiting, the ferocity of fearing it going away, but the care of never daring to let it go now. Steve kisses Eddie back with the desperation of a lonely man given a hand, the strength behind a promise of protection, and the love hidden away in his poor heart finally allowed to burst.

He's lost in the feeling - Eddie's hands in his hair, Eddie's body pushing them closer, Eddie's lips and tongue on his own, Eddie's sweet gasps of air between their mutual desperation. It's a beautiful push and pull that Steve never wants to win.

A hand goes to Eddie's jaw, holds it reverently, tracing the bone and skin and motion. Another goes down to the side of Steve's neck, a light pressure, feeling the pulse and air and swallow.

They don't dare leave each other's lips, can't move away from the tight hold trying to connect every inch of them together, barely leaves room to breathe. Eddie wants to bite, Steve wants to see, but the thought of leaving is impossible to them, so they don't.

Until there's a sudden knock at the door of the band hall that breaks the haze. Steve pulls away to huff in anger, glaring at the wall they're hidden behind to whomever is behind it. Eddie shakes his head at the motion, laughs quietly, pulling Steve's attention back like a moth to flame.

"Steve?" calls out a tentative female voice. If Steve wasn't so drunk on Eddie's everything, he'd feel guilt over the poor girl finally showing up.

Eddie, however, just grins like this is another stage. Pulls away - with much agony from them both - from Steve just enough to look out the door. Steve can hear the girl gasp in shock when he's visible.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie calls out. They're still close enough for the sound to vibrate under Steve's hands through Eddie's entire being. "Haven't seen him!"

The girl mumbles out a profuse apology and promptly exits herself. Such a shame, that people don't want to be around Eddie. What a blessing, that that leaves him all for Steve.

Eddie barely has time to close the closet door enough to keep them hidden more before Steve breaks and surges forward again. Catches Eddie's mouth while he's mid laugh, Steve mid smile. Nearly splits his lip with the force, but Eddie soothes it with his tongue before it can sting.

"Still breaking hearts, huh Steve?" Eddie whispers against his lips. Steve backs away, for the sound of Eddie's words is far sweeter than the taste of them, and the sight of Eddie's eyes far warmer than them both.

"'S long as it's not this one," Steve whispers back. Kisses Eddie again right, if a bit chaste. "Wanna know it instead, if his owner will let me?" Can't help but beg even under Eddie's full attention.

But Eddie just takes it in stride. Grabs the hand on his face and pulls it down to rest over his heart. "It is a little broken already, I'm afraid." His expression falls, just a smidge, but Steve sees it like clouds over the sun. "Sorry for assuming the worst earlier. I'm still scared I'm gonna wake up..."

Steve just does his best to hold Eddie's hand back. "You dream of me?" he can't help but ask.

Eddie looks at him with a look of pure longing. "Can't dream of anything else."

Steve holds him tighter, everywhere. Hands, body, sight. Mind and soul and heart. "Would you let me heal you?"

The clouds pass and Eddie holds him back, bonking their foreheads together - "If you dare, rearrange me so you may fit between the pieces..." - before going back to his lips.

'I wouldn't want to be anywhere else...'

Steve barely knows Eddie, but he wants to try. Eddie barely knows Steve, and he wants to show him everything. Robin and the kids are going to go crazy with this, but Steve's willing to brace for the aftermath.

So long as it means this secret admirer will stay by him for their lives to come.

#some classic feel good simple steddie for the holiday :]#“social by force not by choice” robin truther btw #“eddie fell first steve fell harder” my beloved #quinn is usually a sap but WOW this was a lot #i don't write kisses much but i think i got possessed for this one #i listened to sailor song for like. 80% of this. can you tell where?#ANOTHER SHOTOUT TO ANGEL YOUR IDEA WAS SO SWEET AND IT WAS AN HONOR #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #different first meeting

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