#Robin Buckley is a good friend

[scoops-aboy86]

Love is when Eddie does his little demon horns with his tongue sticking out thing and his Hellfire shirt rides up a lil to show his soft tum, and Steve sighs with hearts in his eyes like he's looking at an angel.

[afewproblems]

Warm my Cold and Tired Heart (Part Three)

Part One and Part Two

After that night, it’s as though Eddie has taken it upon himself to ensure that Steve is never alone, he's just always…there?

The kids want ice cream on a random Saturday? Eddie is there to tag along. The kids D&D matches of course go without saying, Eddie had even gone so far as to dust off an old character to join the party and let Will run a campaign for old times sake. 

Robin drops by with the classifieds for the pair of them to peruse, Eddie invites himself along and shows up later with a six pack and a story of his own experience for nearly every type of listing that Robin has circled. 

When Eddie leaves Robin whirls around slapping Steve's arms with wild hands, Steve yelps and raises his own to defend his vulnerable face, "Robin! What the F--"

"You like him!" She hisses in Steve's face, "when were you going to tell me?"

Steve stills, which only seems to fuel Robin's indignation and she tosses her hands in the air above her head and stands up. 

He feels so much smaller as she paces back and forth in front of him, rambling out a list, something to do with music taste, and numbering off her fingers with each point, the words trail off as Steve bends forward with his face in his hands. 

"Robin," he says through his fingers as she walks towards him. She kneels in front of him, peering into his hidden face. 

He can't, saying it out loud, right now, it's too raw, too real. Eddie is too nice…

And Steve? Well, it doesn't matter.

Robin reaches out and gently peels back his hands, keeping hold of them in her small ones. Her eyes linger on his own before she scowls briefly and sighs. 

"Okay, okay dingus," Robin says softly as she squeezes his hands, "but we are going to talk about this". 

It comes out as more of a question which makes Steve grin at the absurdity of it all, he's reduced Robin, wonderful, brash Robin to this quiet uncertain person kneeling in front of him.

And he just can't do that to her. 

Steve takes a deep breath through his mouth and releases it slowly through his nose, it helps with the churning of his stomach and the anxious racing of his heart.

"No, no its okay Rob, we can, I can, talk about it," he hesitates and rubs a hand roughly over his mouth, "not really much to talk about though, it's stupid and it'll go away". 

Robin tilts her head and narrows her eyes at him, "What does that mean?" She asks, as she crosses her arms loosely, her posture seems relaxed but she can't hide the tension in her shoulders.

"It'll go away, I don't, it doesn't matter Robin, really," Steve grits out, "Eddie is just…"

"Just what?" 

Too funny, too sarcastic, a better friend to the kids, a good listener, always knows how to cut the tension with a joke. 

Too good for Steve. Just like everyone else.

"Just a crush Rob, and those don't mean anything okay, maybe it's not even a crush, maybe it's just like," he fits his hands together, intertwining his fingers, the words stop short though as Robin's eyebrow raises.

Steve sighs and shakes his head, "I don't know what to do Robbie," he whispers and something in his tone softens the expression on her face. 

"Well, I can't say how helpful my advice on a 'non-crush' will be," Robin hums, throwing up exaggerated finger quotes as she continues, "but, I've been told I have the potential to be an excellent listener if you just want to talk or vent or whatever".

Steve laughs and reaches out to push her face gently away with his one hand, the other rises to catch her own flailing arms as she squawks and valiantly attempts to defend herself. 

They dissolve into thrown elbows and giggles, Robin fights dirty, pulling the back of Steve's shirt over his head, Steve concedes as they both attempt to catch their breath on the floor of the Harrington living-room.

"Thanks Robbie," Steve mumbles after he removes the edge of his shirt from his head, he ruffles a hand through his staticy locks and grins widely at his best friend. 

Robin smiles back and knocks a gentle fist into his shoulder, "anytime doofus".

Eddie's presence continues unimpeded, Steve both loves and hates it. 

He loves being around Eddie, his energy is infectious and never fails to make Steve smile. 

But, a small vicious voice never fails to creep in, just as an evening ends or they part ways to drop off the kids, a voice that reminds Steve, you don't deserve nice things, nice things never stay nice for long.

It was the Arcade this time around, Eddie offered his van to cart the kids all at once while Jonathan brought Will, El, and Max in the Buyers station wagon. Steve was surprised when the invitation extended to him as well.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you Stevie, plus if Lucas thinks I’m going to be able to help with the hoops shooter then he’s dreamin’,” Eddie says with his trademark dimpled grin, the one that fills Steve’s gut with warmth at the sight, he laughs and knocks into Eddie’s shoulder with his own. 

“Such a hardship, what would you do without me I wonder,” Steve says with a smirk. 

It's easy today, he’d managed to get a good six hours of sleep the night before and Dustin’s mother, Claudia, had even sent Steve home from their last hangout with a green bean casserole - which he’d immediately stuffed into the freezer to make it last longer. Green beans or not, it was a home cooked meal Steve didn’t have to make himself. He tried not to think about the ever expanding empty spaces in his pantry. 

As soon as they pulled into the parking lot the kids tear out of the van, their voices melding with the chorus of laughter and soft top forties mix trailing out from the open doors of the arcade. Steve smiles at the joyful laugh that bursts from Eddie at the kids' antics. It’s nice to hear that laugh more and more Steve finds.

Lucas hangs back at the van watching his friends walk through the doors, he puts his hands in his hoodie pockets and leans back against the vehicle. 

“Lucas, you’re not heading in?” Steve says as he opens the passenger door and steps out, Eddie is not too far behind him as he pulls a cigarette out of his vest pocket and brings a silver zippo to his lips. 

“I’m waiting for Max, she still needs help sometimes getting out of cars,” Lucas says with a shrug, “would’ve been easier if she had just come with us”. The words come out bitter but soft, he crosses his arms and leans back against the van heavily, kicking a rock by his foot with more force than necessary. 

Steve’s eyes dart from Eddie and back to Lucas, the kid can certainly be cagey and hot headed when he wants to be, almost giving Mike a run for his money, but Steve hasn’t seen this side of Lucas in awhile. 

“Well,” Steve says slowly, stepping into Lucas’s space and leaning against the same door of the van, “we definitely didn’t have enough room for all of us to go in Eddie’s van, and I know that Max and El wanted some time to catch up with each other,” he tries to catch Lucas’s eye but his face remains steadfastly pointed towards the ground and the rock the now lay out of reach. 

Steve spots the Buyers car heading down the road, closer and closer towards the parking lot, he tilts his head towards the oncoming car, “You have about thirty seconds to decide if you want to be a shit about it, or if you want to spend a nice day with your girlfriend”. 

Lucas rolls his eyes and throws his shoulders away from the van, his face twists into a fierce glare at Steve, “I’m not being a shit,” he snarls, his fingers curling into fists.

Steve raises his hands in front of him, palms up, “Lucas, relax, you can be mad but you can’t take it out on other people, so fifteen seconds, what’s it gonna be?”

All at once the fight drains out of the kid, his shoulders droop as though the taught strings holding him up have been severed. He nods, his head bowed, refusing to make eye contact. 

Steve sighs, he runs a hand through his hair and quick as a whip uses his pointer finger to poke Lucas’s chest before bringing the same finger up to catch his nose, the action startles a laugh out of the kid.

“Better?” Steve says quietly as Jonathan pulls into the space across from them, El waves from the backseat with a jubilant expression on her face, Will smiles through the windshield and waves as well, although it's a more sedate wave than his sister. Jonathan gets out of the car and heads to the back to open the door for Max on the driver's side.

“Thanks Steve,” Lucas says quietly as he takes off to help Jonathan with Max. The doctors said she would not need crutches or a wheelchair long term but she still has a long road to recovery ahead of her mobility and the loss of ninety percent of her vision. Max needed as many people in her corner as she could get. 

“You’re really good with them,” a voice in his ear says lightly, he jumps at the sudden proximity of Eddie at his shoulder, “handled that like a champ man”.

Steve shrugs and turns away from the others. Eddie drops the nearly finished cigarette and snuffs out the faint embers with his shoe; the smell of smoke curls around him like a cat, clinging to his wild hair and the jean fabric of his vest. It isn’t necessarily even a nice smell, but it’s synonymous with Eddie, and Steve can’t help but breathe in deeply when Eddie steps back into his space. 

“Nah, that was easy, you want a real challenge you should try getting Mike to agree to anything you say,” Steve huffed with a small laugh, “you could tell him that the the sky was an amazing shade of blue and he’d be over here insisting it was actually purple and you were a moron”.

Eddie cackles and swings an arm out to wrap around Steve’s shoulder in a tight side hug that leaves him breathless, a bubble of nervous laughter rolls out of Steve, he can feel his ears and cheeks slowly heat at the sudden touch. 

“You’re hiding a genuine sense of humour under all that hair Stevie,” Eddie says as he reaches up to card the fingers of his free hand through Steve’s hair. 

The flush running over Steve’s ears and cheeks lights a trail of pink down his neck towards his chest, this was…new?

Eddie had certainly been physical before, from high fives, to play-fighting with Dustin, to doling out hugs after he had finally woken up at the hospital; but this was different. His hands were one of the more expressive parts of Eddie, he gestured wildly as he spoke, letting the frenetic energy ping from limb to limb when he was particularly excited about something. 

They were small events, something that wouldn’t even register if Robin or even Dustin had done it, a hand on the small of his back, fingers in his hair --well maybe Steve would be hard pressed to let either of those two touch his hair like that but…this was Eddie.

“Hey,” he squawks, batting Eddie’s hands away and ducking his face to hide the flames that have seemingly engulfed his entire being as Jonathan and the kids make their way closer to the pair of them, “I’m plenty funny, my wit is just wasted on the plebeians around me most of the time”. 

“Plebeian? Don’t hurt yourself there Harrington, don’t you usually work within a two syllable maximum?” Eddie crows with a smirk, his brown eyes crinkle at the corners as the dimples reveal themselves, he ducks away from the shove Steve sends his way. 

“Shut up, I know lots of words,” Steve grumbles, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah like, You-Are-A-Dork,” Max calls out, counting off on each finger with a shit-eating grin. The kids and Jonathan walk slowly to give Max just a bit more time to catch up with the crutches. Lucas walks beside and just ahead of her, looking ready to catch her each time her feet catch on a loose rock on the asphalt. 

“Everybody’s against me,” Steve huffs as Eddie cackles and Jonathan grins with an exasperated shake of his head.

El waves at something behind them and takes off, skipping across the parking lot, Mike appears at the main entrance hollering at everyone to ‘hurry-the-hell-up!’ or the best games would be taken.

Steve rolls his eyes.

They were at the arcade…on a Saturday…and with it being one of the few places on mainstreet that had suffered minimal damage during the near-apocalypse - the place was always packed.

Will jogs ahead as well, though he stops momentarily to wait for Lucas and Max. 

“Oh you heard him,” Max grumbles, she adjusts the crutches under her armpits and swings them forward to continue, “All the best games will be gone, well that would just be the worst thing that could ever happen to us. Oh wait”. 

Lucas and Will laugh as the three of them follow after El and Mike, disappearing through the doors.

“I don’t know how someone so small can be so sarcastic,” Jonathan says, the words soft and smooth as he leans in conspiratorially, “your turn Harrington”. 

Steve snorts and tries to ignore the knot of anxiety that tightens in his chest. Things have been okay with Jonathan --they aren’t unfriendly with each other, especially now after everything they’ve all been through, but they aren’t exactly close. 

It was certainly better than getting his face smashed in though, he’d take awkward small talk over a back alley brawl any day. 

“Buyers,” Eddie says, lifting his hand into a high five that Jonathan slowly returns, a bewildered expression on his face, “taking over as chauffeur for Stevie over here?”

Eddie brings an arm around Steve’s neck, tilting his whole torso down and throwing him off balance with the sudden change. Steve barks out a laugh that sounds vaguely like a yelp and grins widely as he is pulled closer into Eddie - nearly tucked into his side. 

The fading cigarette smoke clings to Eddie’s hair and denim vest, it mingles with something spicy that makes Steve want to pull closer and shove his nose behind Eddie’s ear.

“Yeah, uh it's fine,” Jonathan says, the words are mild but the tone is strange, Steve freezes and shifts to stand up straight, mourning the loss of warmth from Eddie’s arm as it drops to let him go easily.

“I just have a shift tonight,”Jonathan continues, clearing his throat as he speaks, “so as long as you guys are still okay to hang with the kids for their game, my mom’s working and Hopper’s going out with Callahan tonight so,” his eyes move from Steve’s face to Eddie’s and back again, a small furrow grows between his brows as he scans Steve a second time. 

“Hey, Harrington and I got it, don’t we big boy?” Eddie says with a wolfish grin, knocking his shoulder into Steve's own. 

Steve freezes at the words, just like the first time, and fights the wild grin that itches to spread over his face.

Jonathan's eyes narrow slightly, flicking back and forth between Steve and Eddie. They linger on Steve for a moment before he shrugs, dropping his hands into his jeans jacket pockets.

"That's fine with me," Jonathan hums in his soft voice, "I mean between the two of you I'm sure they'll survive," Jonathan laughs as Eddie squawks and claps a hand to his own chest, the picture of indignation.

"How dare you Byers," Eddie hisses as he steps away and places his other hand against his forehead, "I can't believe this, are we going to take that Stevie?" Eddie says, pitching his voice in mock despair.

Before he can stop it, a thought blooms in his mind, spreading like ink through water.

'Oh…I love you,' 

It's different than what he had felt for Nancy, than what he had felt for Robin, it's softer than before. Like the embers from a fire warming him from within. It should be scary, but it's not.

For the first time in awhile Steve feels comfortable.

"No way man," Steve says with a wry smile, "between the two of us, we can keep them alive until Max and El change their minds and then, we're done for." 

Jonathan laughs brightly and taps his finger against his nose, Eddie huffs but he's still smiling broadly. 

They can handle tonight. 

***

Steve ascends the stairs from the basement two at a time, balancing empty cans of pop from the kids' latest D&D session in his arms, he smiles lightly at the chorus of laughter that trails after him and pushes the door to the main floor open. 

Warm light hits his face as he crosses the living room of the Byers-Hopper temporary household, he steps deliberately into the plush high-pile area rug and wiggles his toes into the fibres for just a moment, everything about this home screams comfort, softness - it’s everything his own empty staged house isn’t. The pillows are mismatched and nearing threadbare, the recliner in the corner, covered in corduroy patches and a permanent divot in the middle where Hopper spends his evenings with Joyce and the kids. 

This is home, this is safe. 

Steve sighs and continues towards the closed door of the kitchen before hushed voices catch his attention, through the serving hatch two voices trickle into the living room alongside the brighter white fluorescent light that pools on the carpeted floor and his socked feet. 

“I’m just saying--”

“I got it Buyers, ‘be careful’”

Eddie’s voice takes on a syrupy quality, fake and condescending to Jonathan, Steve frowns, the elder Buyers must have been back early from his shift at the pizza place on the far side of town.

“I mean it Munson, just be careful with Steve, I’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you--”

“Jesus,” Eddie growls, the syrup in his tone dissipates with the sudden heat flooding his words, “I got it under control, relax man.”

Steve swallows, not daring to breathe, why would Eddie need to be careful around him? Why would Jonathan be warning Eddie about him, weren’t they past all that?

Granted, it's always easier for the person who made the mistakes to want to move on from them, put a bandaid on and pretend everything is normal, of course Jonathan isn’t over it. 

How could he be, it wasn’t as though they had ever really talked about it, the cruel words that Steve had thrown in his face, the rumours fueled by anger and hurt that he had spread with the help of Tommy and Carol.

Steve thinks of Jonathan and Will now, how Jon had given the kid a quick hug earlier in the afternoon before he had left for work, how he had let one arm travel up so he could cup Will’s head to quickly ruffle his hair - but this had distracted Will for long enough to give him one last squeeze. 

If there was something in his life that Steve wished he could undue, that he could take back, it would be the rumour that Jonathan had killed Will himself. 

Jonathan was right. 

He was right to warn Eddie, to let him know about who Steve really was, what he was capable of. 

Steve swallows past the lump that begins to solidify in his throat. He stands for just a moment longer, still awkwardly holding the empty cans he collected from the kids. He breathes in once, twice, before turning on his heel and heading for the front door. 

Jonathan was home now, as was Eddie, it wasn’t as though the kids would be alone at this point. 

Steve knows Joyce will be annoyed with him for leaving, especially without saying goodbye to her or the kids, but he just can’t be in there anymore. Not where he doesn’t belong.

Steve unlatches the front door and lets it close behind him with a soft snick. He places the cans gently on the step, behind the pillar so the wind wouldn’t take the empty aluminium and toss them around the yard, and that’s when he remembers.

“Of-fucking-course,” he hisses with a shudder, they had all come with Eddie. Steve’s car had been left with Wayne two days earlier, having finally been convinced by Robin and Eddie to let him take a look at it. 

Leaving him effectively stranded, useless, without wheels. 

Steve shiveres as a particularly rough wind tears over the gravel driveway, a hint of moisture in the cool spring breeze threatens as droplets hit sporadically across his face and the thin grey bomber jacket he left the house in earlier that day. 

Steve turns back to the house for a moment, soft light streams through the gaps in the curtains illuminating half of his face in the dark of their driveway. 

 He turns and walks down the remaining length of the driveway until the last sliver of light illuminating his figure disappears, allowing him to be swallowed by the shadowy lane. 

Steve zips up his jacket, letting the zipper nearly pinch the skin of his neck in his haste to shut out the cold. He reaches up to cup his ears, cursing the wind as it picks up around him. Steve hadn’t bothered with a hat earlier, content to ride in the warmth of Eddie’s van with the kids, listening to their excited buzz around Will and his new adventure he had planned with Eddie’s advice. 

It was better this way, he should have stuck to what he knew, hung back more rather than let himself be coddled and sucked into this strange family he had found himself in. 

He’d let himself forget, allowed himself to want too much and hope. Steve swallowed against the tightening feeling in his throat, he’d still have Robin, and Dustin of course. But this was always a temporary thing, and now that it was over… 

‘Snap out of it,’ he thinks to himself in a voice that sounds, once again, eerily like Robin, ‘a pity party isn’t going to make any of this better. Just go home and go to bed, nothing good ever happens after 11:00PM’. He shakes himself roughly, though it turns into a full body shiver as a biting wind collides with him, sending Steve stumbling into a gravel patch, his shoe slides with the rocks pitching his legs forward and out from under him. 

He careens to the asphalt, turning just in time to let his shoulder hit the ground first rather than his head --he didn’t need another concussion on top of everything else. 

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, the lump in his throat pulls on the single syllable, drawing it out into a moan. 

Headlights from an oncoming truck on the other side of the highway illuminate his position on the road, Steve manages to roll to his knees, grimacing at the pinch of gravel that stick to his jeans and hands as he tries to stand. His ankle throbs, as does his shoulder from the impact.

“Harrington? Steve?” a familiar voice calls out, the car turns out to be Hopper’s pickup, the voice belongs to Hopper.

Hopper, who has exited the vehicle and approaches Steve from the side, slowly as one would a wild animal. 

“You hurt kid?” Hopper asks, in a voice Steve would never have associated with the gruff man in a million years - and certainly not directed his way, it’s soft and gentle -- his El voice, his Will voice, Joyce calls it.. 

“No,” Steve mumbles brushing off his pants, releasing the dust and gravel that remained from his fall, “I’m good Hop,�� 

Hopper looks down the road, down in the direction of the Buyers house before he turns his attention back to Steve, his blue eyes scanning his face reminding Steve of just who he was talking to.

“Yeah,” Hopper sighs out, his moustache twitches as he quirks his mouth to the side, “normally I don’t appreciate someone lying to my face like that, but I think I’ll let it go for tonight, you look like you need a bit of a break, huh kid?” 

Steve lowers his gaze to the ground before shrugging, he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his mouth firmly shut. 

Hopper sighs again, for a moment Steve thinks he’ll turn around entirely, get back into the car and leave him there.

“Get in the truck Steve,” Hopper grunts at him as he steps forward to offer a large hand for Steve to take. 

He grabs it reluctantly and slowly gets to his feet with a small hiss of pain, his ankle protests slightly from the strain.

Steve limps over to the passenger door, waving off Hopper as he tries to walk him around the vehicle, he's certainly had worse than road rash, this is nothing.

It's tense inside the vehicle as Steve shuts the door and buckles himself in, he brushes his hands against his dusty jeans and grimaces as additional gravel and grit comes away. 

Hopper keeps glancing at him while Steve stares out the passenger window, his forehead placed against the cool glass.

“So," Hopper says after clearing his throat abruptly, "you wanna tell me why you left the kids early?”

“I didn’t leave them alone," Steve blurts out defensively, as he sits up properly, "Jonathan is there, and so is Eddie--”

“You’re not in trouble Steve, relax, I know you wouldn’t have just left them alone, you’re not that kind of kid".

“Not anymore,” Steve mutters quietly. He can feel eyes on him again but Steve tilts his head away once more to stare resolutely out the window, not daring to make eye contact. 

Hopper turns his gaze back to the road, he seems to chew on the words he wants to say before thinking better of it.

Hopper clears his throat again, “Look, I’m not the best person to talk to about,” he gestures with one hand and a circular motion towards his chest, his other hand remains resolutely on the steering wheel, “feelings or hard shit like that but you know you can come to any one of us about what you’re going through alright?”

“Joyce is better at this,” Hopper says in that soft voice again, “but we’re here kid? I know you’re folks aren’t like that for you but we are, we can be, if you want?”

“It's fine Hop--”

“Is it Steve?" Hopper cuts across him, his voice climbs in volume, "The kids are worried about you, Wayne told us about the house--”

“That's none of your business," Steve hisses, horrified by the traitorous heat and painful sting behind his eyes, "and since when do you guys talk to each other?”

Hopper says nothing for a moment, but his large hands grip the steering wheel with white knuckles and Steve tries not to panic.

“So it's true then?” Hopper grinds out eventually, he shakes his head and Steve's stomach drops as shame curdles in his stomach.

“So what if it is?” 

“Dammit Steve," Hopper shouts, throwing his right hand against the steering wheel with a crack, "Why haven’t you told anyone what is going on with you? What are you going to do if it sells?”

The crack of the hand against the steering wheel is the last straw, Steve grapples with his seatbelt buckle and pulls at the fabric running across his chest, it's too much.

“Let me out," Steve says harshly, "I’ll walk the rest of the way".

“What? No, what is the matter with you," Hopper's voice climbs even higher, "I’m trying to--”

But Steve isn’t listening any more, his heart pounds to the words, ‘Get-Out, Get-Out’, that resonate over and over inside his head, he unbuckles himself clumsily and flings open the door before jumping out. 

Hopper, realizing what is happening, slows down just enough that the impact Steve's feet make against the pavement does nothing to slow his movement as he takes off down the residential road, once again putting his track skills to the test. 

Steve ignores Hopper's voice as he throws himself down the sidewalk, one foot in front of the other, running like the devil and the gaping maw of Hell are hot on his heels. 

Steve doesn’t look back.

He had never really liked the track team, or the sport that much, swimming and basketball had been easier to get into, easier to lose himself in the movement or the plays the coach would give them.

But track, running, always left his mind to wander, and that was never a good thing. 

It was too much, the house, the nightmares, the kids were pulling away, Robin was busy with her own life, Nancy and Jonathan had come back together like nothing had ever happened, Eddie had healed and put himself back together so easily. 

And Steve was stuck. In danger of being left behind if he wasn’t careful. It would happen again, just like his parents had abandoned him there in Hawkins, these people he had come to think of as family, would eventually leave him too. 

There are tears pouring down his face by the time he stumbles home, his lungs burn and the ankle he had most certainly twisted could no longer support his full weight. He limps the rest of the way, nearly collapsing up the steps to his front door.

Steve pulls his keys out of his back pants pocket with shaking hands and bites down a sharp breath that catches wetly against his tongue. He runs his hand over his face, under his nose from his knuckle to the crook of his arm to catch all the snot and tears that had gathered there, pitiful, gross, get it together Harrington, he thinks lowly. 

He shoves the key into the lock roughly and steps into the entryway before closing the door behind him and locking the deadbolt. 

As the door closes, it’s as though the other shoe finally drops. The deadbolt slides into place, sealing the entryway behind him, and Steve Harrington falls apart.

Part Four - Final Part Up!

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyy how about another Steddie thinky thought? You know ‘em, you love ‘em!

This one’s theme: Hanahaki. Yes, the Flower Sickness that makes any unrequited love as actually physically deadly as it feels.

This one’s a bit older than the rest. I posted tiny bits on the discord a while back, and may in fact eventually expand it into an actual story, but for now, this.

Also under a cut because, yet again, my hand slipped, lol. Warnings for, uh, more Steve pain I guess. Sorry about that. Kind of.

Hanahaki AU

Steve loves Eddie. But Eddie doesn’t love Steve (or so Steve thinks…). He has resigned himself to this, to just being friends. Good friends. The only person he tells is Robin, who encourages him but is sympathetic. He gets the Flower Cough. Which grows (heh) increasingly worse as time goes on. And Robin gets even more insistent that he tells Eddie. So eventually Steve just… gives her a half truth/half lie.

He tells her, “Eddie’s not interested in me.” Half a lie, because she takes this to mean that he actually DID talk to Eddie and got rebuffed (he did not). But it’s also half a truth, because that’s what Steve truly believes - that Eddie wouldn’t be interested. No way, why would he? Pick your favorite flavor of Steve Harrington insecurity and insert here.

Eddie, meanwhile, is more than a little distraught. Everyone knows Steve has the Flower Sickness, but every time anyone asks about who it is, he waves them off with “they’re not interested.” And this blows Eddie’s mind because he’s been madly in love with Steve for years now, so how could anyone with half a brain or heart turn him down? In Eddie’s eyes, Steve is perfect.

The sickness gets worse. Steve ends up in the hospital. Everyone is there, waiting on the doctor’s word for when they can go in to see him. Eddie rushes in, scared and sick to his stomach, afraid that this is it. And at the sight of him looking so forlorn, even though (she thinks) he’s the one who caused this, Robin finally explodes.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Munson!”

Eddie, of course, is absolutely clueless. “What the fuck?”

“You think you can- fuck!” She’s angry, she’s stressed, she’s heartbroken, she’s distraught. There are tears streaming down her face. And for a moment, Eddie’s never felt so intimidated. “How can you just show up here like this?”

“Like what? Birdie, can you please start making more sense, because I am at a fucking loss here.”

She gears up for a verbal beatdown the likes of which have never been witnessed before, but then a nurse comes out. Tells them that Steve is okay (relatively speaking of course), and that they’re just making him comfortable now. And that she’ll be back out with the doctor soon to talk about visiting. This update deflates some of Robin’s bluster, and she sinks down into one of the chairs.

Eddie is still confused, but slightly relieved that Steve is alright. For now.

Under his breath he laments, “god, I wish it were me.”

It’s so quiet, but Robin hears him. Of course she does.

“Wait, what?”

He startles, surprised at being heard, and maybe a little nervous about speaking something so close to his heart in front of this ragtag group of people. But, he tells himself, they all love Steve here. So maybe… maybe it’s time to be brave.

“I wish it was me. The person who…” he gestures vaguely. “For Steve. If it was me, this might not-“ He swallows, hard, and looks away. His eyes sting but he’s not gonna cry, dammit.

Robin is just. Staring at him, eyes wide. “Eddie. What do you mean?”

It takes a moment, but he finally looks back at her.

“If it were me this wouldn’t have happened. Because I love him. I love him so fucking much, Birdie. And when I find whoever it was that broke his heart, I’m gonna-“ he clenches his fist. Clenches and unclenches. Perhaps unable to quite articulate the truest depths of his feelings.

Robin, to yet more of his surprise, bursts into fresh tears.

“You are both. Such. IDIOTS.” But before he can ask, again, what the fuck she means, she says, “it’s YOU.”

Eddie’s brain just fucking STOPS. Crashes. Like a freight train with a girder dropped in its track. “Me? What about me?”

“You, you idiot.” She’s up now, crying and shoving at him. But they’re half-hearted at best. And… is she smiling a little? “You, you, you! He loves you too.”

“Loves… me? Rob, you’re not making sense again.”

So she tells him. Everything. Perhaps breaking Steve’s confidence in the process, but if this miscommunication were to cost her best friend - her platonic soulmate - his life? That’s a small price to pay, she reasons. By the end of it, Eddie’s lost his battle against his tears. Dustin is hugging him as he babbles out, “but why would he- How could he think- I wouldn’t have let him-“

The nurse and doctor appear, taking in the scene, but not knowing the finer details of course. They tell the group that they can see him, but only one at a time. “For now,” they emphasize, with small, encouraging smiles.

Through a silent exchange, Robin is selected to go in first.

Steve is sitting up against the pillows of the hospital bed. There are various lines and monitors attached to him. Beeping at a steady, if not quite normal, level. He’s awake, and smiles a bit weakly at her when he sees her.

“Robbie.”

She smiles back.

“Hey dingus. How’re you feeling?” She sits down on the bed and reaches out, pushing the hair out of his face. It’s damp, soaked through with sweat, but she doesn’t mind.

“I’m f-“

“Don’t say you’re fine,” she cuts him off. Gently. Still touching him. Her hand drops to his shoulder and squeezes. “Not after this.”

They look at each other, an entire silent conversation passing between, before Steve sighs. The deep breath causes him to cough a little, but nothing comes up this time.

“Okay. I’m not fine. But Robin-“

She shakes her head. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” he replies almost automatically. Because he does.

“And,” she gets up, “because I love you, I hope you can forgive me.”

Steve’s expression turns confused. And a bit worried. “Forgive…?”

She backs up. Towards the door. “I’ll be back in a little while. But for now, I think there’s someone else who you should talk to. And who needs to talk to you.” At that, her gaze hardens. “And you better actually talk this time.”

She leaves, and Steve is alone again. He has a minute or two to be terribly confused before the door opens.

Oh fuck, it’s Eddie.

Eddie, who only glances at Steve as he comes in before pointedly looking away. He leans against the door, arms wrapped around himself. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, for as long as Steve’s known him. It’s unnerving.

“Eddie?” Steve asks. “Are you…?” He trails off, unsure of what, exactly, he was trying to ask.

Eddie says nothing. But then-

“You’re a real piece of work, Harrington, you know that?” He sounds angry. Maybe even livid. His voice is practically vibrating with it. Steve focuses on that, missing the undercurrent of tears in the words. For him, this is exactly what he thought would happen. She must have told him. Of course she would. And though he wanted to be mad, he couldn’t blame her at all. If, god forbid, their positions were reversed…

Eddie was talking again. “So you, what, rather die? Rather die than just, oh jeez, fucking say something to me?”

Steve wishes the bed would swallow him whole. He looks down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Picking at threads in the linen. His heart monitor had picked up a bit.

Eddie was slowly inching forward until he was right next to the bed. His eyes were also drawn to Steve’s hands. At the IV line affixed to them. At the nails, bitten short. At the bloodstains still lingering against his skin.

“You stupid, self-sacrificing son of a bitch.”

Steve winced. This was it. The worst nightmare he’d had since everything with the Upside Down. Only it wasn’t a dream any more.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he whispers. Sorry, he implies, for falling in love with you. It’s okay that you don’t-

“Sorry? Steve you’re-“ Eddie chokes a bit. He sniffles. Steve finally hears the other underlying emotions his friend is struggling with. Is he… crying?

He absolutely is, and wiping furiously at his eyes. Part of him wants to grab Steve by the shoulders, to shake him, to scream at him. To demand to know why. What were you thinking? But then again, he already knows, doesn’t he? Robin told him.

“Why,” he asks, “why would you ever think that I wouldn’t want you?”

Now it was Steve’s brain’s turn to just… stop.

Very slowly, quietly, he whispers out a “…what?”

Eddie’s hands are gripping the bed railing tightly. He itches, how he itches, to reach over and take the other man’s hands in his. To twine their fingers together. But if he does, he knows that he’ll never want to let go again if he can help it. So before that, he takes the scariest plunge of his life. Lover’s Lake has got nothing on this.

“Steve,” he says, their gazes finally meeting, “I love you. I fucking love you, you idiot.”

Steve is shocked. Flabbergasted. Maybe this is a dream, he thinks. Or maybe I’ve finally fucking coughed myself to death. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a few seconds, minutes maybe, before finally, he manages to ask, “since when?” He swears he can actually feel the flowery vines in his lungs growing tighter.

Eddie smiles at him through watery eyes. “How long have I known you?”

Steve just fucking breaks. He cries, weeping into his hands, curling in on himself. Can’t breathe, he thinks desperately before strong arms wrap around him. Drawing him in against a solid chest. Eddie hugs him, tucking Steve’s wet face against his neck. He’s crying too.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” he says. “It’ll be okay now.” He hopes that this is true. That whatever fate may be, it doesn’t make him a liar. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

[corrodedcoughin]

Eddie gets confused (and incredibly jealous) when Robin says she’s going to dnd at Steve’s house. That she’s been going for months and it’s a weekly tradition. So of course Eddie crashes it under the guise of leaving a Very Important dice set there.

What he finds is Steve and Robin sitting on the couch watching tv on opposite ends of the couch with legs stretched between them and plates of food on their laps. Their dnd? It’s dinner and documentaries. Documentaries of whatever Robin’s mom recorded that week and a dinner to go with the topic which is surprisingly difficult when there’s titles like ‘the humble houseplant’ or ‘aardvarks: what are they not telling us?’

Eddie takes a seat and starts watching without question. He earns a regular invite after that night

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two--you are here/ Part Three

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war.

Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about why Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to, presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie was taken aback at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both flinched. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about Harrington's stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while Horrorton enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Steve would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking in the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was ���already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're in the right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of intervention.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkins, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marked her as a memeber of the high school band, who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what Eddie was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends now.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation because they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[kiwibirbkat]

"I love you." Robin's eyes were dead, emotionless. Her eyebags only added to the effect, like straight charcoal was rubbed underneath her eyes. Like she hadn't slept in a week. And she probably hadn't, Steve remembered. Her voice was raspy from misuse, the only sounds Steve had heard her say since he found her being screams and those three simple words. He held her bloody hand, rubbing the joints on her fingers. Too thin fingers. He suddenly realized she wouldn't have had anything to eat all week unless she was eating the monsters corpse.

His eyes trailed down her arms. Covered in inhuman bites and scratches. He could feel splinters in her fingers. That explained the mediocre stake she had. That she swapped for her hands halfway through the fight. He shivered, remembering the gruesome fate that the monsters were doomed to. Even evil creatures didn't deserve such a horrible death. He glanced at the desecrated corpses surrounding them. What had she gone through to make her fight like... THAT?

The thing that really caught his attention was the cut on her forehead. A large scratch, mediocrely covered by a strip of her jacket.

With a start, he realized he hadn't responded. "I..." His voice cracked with emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled her into a bone crushing hug, breaking down sobbing. "I love you too..." He mumbled into her shoulder.

The corpses surrounding them didn't matter anymore. The sulfur in the air of the upsidedown didn't matter anymore. Not even the fact that they were still in the upsidedown and anything could attack them at any moment mattered. The only thing that mattered was Robin back in his arms.

OR Robin gets dragged into the upside-down and can't be found for a week. Steve finds her and they fight a pack of demidogs (more of Steve watching in horror as Robin decimated them)

[missjashin]

Steve and Eddie having to drive the kids somewhere and since there’s nine of them in total, ten if Robin is tagging along, they have to take two cars so obviously the ones with actual licenses have to drive. And Eddie is immediately like “I’ll take the boys, you can take the girls” but starts to doubt his decision right away because uhm why does Steve seem so happy about that?

Eddie really thinks it would be easier this way. I mean he knows most the boys little better and. They’re all guys? Nerdy guys too. He can handle them. Steve can try to deal with the girls. Like Robin is a force to be reckoned with and he has to have Max AND Erica in the car with him as well ? With the addition of a girl with actual super powers? Yeah sure Eddie is the one who’s gonna have it easy…

Or so he thinks. He just forgot to take into account the fact that the girls? They all get along just fine. Meanwhile the boys? Sure they are best friends but they can have a debate over EVERYTHING. And they will too.

This would be most hilarious comedy scene honestly. Showing Steve and the girls in the car. The music is nice and everything is calm and they’re all smiling and having fun. Switching to Eddie and the boys and it’s all heavy metal and screaming and rage and something might be on fire too- and cut back to Steve and girls and they’re just happily singing along their pop tunes.

Eddie is gonna need a vacation after this car trip.

[italiansteebie]

steve is like... really good at laser tag.

it was supposed to be a fun double date that wasn't really a date because the kids were all with them too, but steve. he really took it seriously.

it was a wonder he was such a bad fighter, based on this, maybe they should give him a gun? no...

robin, nancy, and eddie watched in curious amazement as steve bobbed and weaved through the dark course. (eddie's not proud to admit that he may have drooled watching steve hop over one of the foam obstacles). "agh! steve, no!" they heard dustin whine in the distance, smiling when steve only cackles in response.

"oh! fuck you steve!" there was mike, "cmon man, i thought we were friends!" lucas, "you're really just gonna stand there and shoot me? im not even playing!" and max.

it was definitely comedic, and a little scary.

they heard his footsteps, "oh shit. he's coming, run!" robin squealed, grabbing nancy's hand and dragging her after her. eddie kept his place in the corner, it was fun but he wasn't really into all that... running or "exercise."

soon enough he was face to face with steve. "hey baby,"

"hey ed's."

"rob and nancy ran that way," eddie said pointing towards their direction. steve grinned, "thanks ed's." he said pressing a kiss to his lips before running away.

distantly, eddie heard nancy and robin shout, and he shook his head. soon enough the lights came back on and the game was over.

now steve wasn't a competitive person, however, he knows when he's good at something, so it wasn't a surprise to eddie when they all trailed out of the arena, a huge smile on steve's face.

the bored employee started, feigning excitement, "okay! the winner is steve ahoy, congratulations steve. yay." steve whooped, doing a stupid little dance, smacking a celebratory kiss on eddie's face, laughing at the kids disdain.

"that's not fair! steve didn't tell us he was super good at laser tag!"

"ha ha!" steve teased, smiling when eddie grabbed his hand. "don't worry, next time he's not allowed to play. only normal people." robin assured, smirking at steve. "oh, so you're not playing either?" he retorted. robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. "what ever laser rambo."

[blushweddinggowns]

Steve was probably Dustin’s favorite person in the entire world, not that he would ever admit it out loud. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but it was a little embarrassing for his role model to be a dorky babysitter who worked for minimum wage with his chick-repeller best friend. And when he wasn’t with her, then he was with his brand new favorite metalhead. Neither were particularly helpful in the dating department.  

Now if he was just allowed to add the bit where Steve was a fearless monster fighter with a heart of gold, then things would be a bit better, but certain government NDAs made that impossible. Dustin admired Steve just as much as he judged him, more so really. But all that admiration didn’t stop him from worrying. 

There was something obviously wrong with Steve lately, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was. At first, Dustin thought it was just Steve worrying over Eddie’s recovery, because he was a massive worrywart who still looked like he’d faint when Eddie did anything even slightly strenous. Though in his defense, Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down and got to witness firsthand just how close to death he was. He barely left his side for those first few horrible days in the hospital, always touch and go, doctors constantly warning them to not expect him to wake up. 

But Eddie recovered, has been recovered, for months now. He was back to his theatrical self, slipping into their friend group with ease. Especially when it came to Steve. Apparently having your life saved by someone fast tracked relationships by years. The two acted like they’d known each other since childhood, constantly together.

Steve went to pick him up? Eddie was already in the front seat. He went into the Family Video to bother him? Eddie was already chatting him up at the front counter. Showing up to bother Steve at his house after school? Half the time it was Eddie who answered the door, and the other half he was sprawled on the couch when Steve let him in. 

Now Dustin wasn’t necessarily jealous of Eddie, but their relationship just confused him. At first, he was actually pretty happy about Steve having a new side kick, especially when Robin decided to drop the bomb that she was gay as hell and dating Vicky, effectively cutting the time she spent with Steve in half. Dustin knew that Steve got lonely easily, so he half expected that to restart his attempts at getting a girlfriend, but instead he just spent more and more time with Eddie. Which was fine. Weird, but fine. Or at least, it was. 

But for the past week or so whatever was going on with Steve, shifted. Sure he was acting different before, he was striking out with almost any girl who talked to him and hadn’t been out on a date since forever , but Dustin wasn’t too worried about it, not when he knew he was happy.

Like, weirdly happy for someone who had the life Steve had. But now, Dustin could just tell something was bothering him, something that he refused to acknowledge. Steve had never been a good actor, ever since whatever happened, he’s just had this air of loneliness around him, just an aura of sadness that he was hiding behind the world’s fakest smile. 

But Dustin couldn't figure out what it was. Nothing had changed! No fights with Robin that he knew of, and definitely none with Eddie. Steve’s face still lit up whenever he saw him, and Eddie wasn’t shy about draping himself all over Steve whenever he could. No one was that touchy feely if they were fighting with someone, so that was out. 

Whatever it was, Dustin needed to get to the bottom of it, and he wasn’t the only one. 

Besides El and Lucas, Steve was also Max’s favorite person. Somehow, a random twenty-year old with a beehive for hair became the closest thing she had to a functioning parent in her life. He was always looking out for her, whether it be taking her to and from physical therapy, dropping off groceries at the trailer on his way to Eddie’s, or even taking her freaking mom to AA, Steve was there. 

So of course she noticed immediately when he was upset. At first she thought he got into it with Eddie or something. The two were basically attached at the hip nowadays, so if someone was going to piss him off, then it would probably be him. But they were acting the same as always, sickeningly sweet and bizarrely close for only being friends for half a year. Though on second thought, Max didn’t have much room to judge, considering how she considered Steve like a dad in under two.

Steve just drew people to him, with his stupid handsome face and good nature. He was always too busy worrying about other people, he never acknowledged when he needed support, so of course he just denied anything was wrong when Max asked. 

“I’m fine, scout’s honor,” he had said the last time she tried, with the saddest puppy dog eyes ever. His face only ever brightened fully when Eddie was around, though Max had a feeling that was also an act, just a more curated one for Eddie’s watchful eyes. The guy was obsessed with Steve, but since he was always so nice, Max didn’t think to worry about it. Steve deserved someone who cared too much around. 

Robin, obviously, knew what was wrong, but she was a steel trap when it came to Steve secrets. That was something Max actually loved about Robin, just not when it was used against her. 

She had thought about asking Eddie, but decided against it. If her initial theory was right, then he was hiding something from him too, and hiding it harder. Or if she was wrong, she doubted he’d betray Steve’s trust for her. Not unless she caught him alone and really, really high.

That could stay as a back-up plan. 

But for now, Dustin was going to be her best bet. Steve could pretty easily say no to them separately, but when they formed a unified front he always caved.

They were working with a hundred percent success rate when they got him alone, a power they didn’t take lightly. The two had agreed to save that tactic for only dire circumstances, they weren’t monsters afterall, but Max was going to count this as dire. 

Dustin was pretty easy to convince, he was just as tired of Steve avoiding talking about it as she was.  The two of them set up a plan in no time, Operation: What the fuck was wrong with Steve?

The immediate hurdle was separating Steve from his cronies, which left them with the single option of Friday night. Eddie had a drug deal, courtesy of Max’s admittingly, inappropriate eavesdropping, from the last time they took her to the doctor, pretending to listen to Kate Bush as Eddie promised him to be careful. 

Robin was a different story, and there was a fifty percent chance she’d be there. And Robin was always on Steve’s side, even when he was obviously lying. But they had a plan for that too, one would distract her at the front door and the other would sneak in and coax Steve outside, feigning some kind of emotional emergency that required privacy, where they would then corner him in the woods. 

Max had to admit that plans like this made her think Steve may have had a point to his “personal boundaries lectures”, but if he wasn’t so damn stubborn, then they wouldn't have to be so weird. They pulled up to his house on their bikes, no cars but Steve’s in the driveway. 

“I’ll sneak through the back door, he usually doesn’t lock it.” Max said, hopping off her bike, “You deal with Robin, and if she’s not there just yell.”

“And if she is?”

“If she is, distract her for as long as possible, I’ll walkie you when I get him alone.” 

Dustin nodded. Robin was easy enough to distract, and who knows, maybe they would get lucky and she wouldn't be there. He rang the front door bell, watching Max sneak off to the back in the corner of his eye.

Of course Robin was the one to answer the door, frowning immediately at the sight of Dustin, “Jeez kid, every hear of calling?”

Rude. But whatever. “Where’s Ste-”

“If you’re looking for Steve he isn’t here right now, okay?” she lied immeadlilty, obviously going with the first dumb thing that popped into her head. She looked angry and tired, which was mildly alarming. And super rude. 

“If he isn’t here then why is his car? I know he wouldn’t let you drive it.” Dustin said, crossing his arms, “You gotta get better at lying Robin.”

She rolled her eyes, “He would so let me drive. I have a license now, remember? What do you even want, Henderson?”

“Well now I want to know why you’re lying.”

She sighed, pinching her nose in frustration, “Dustin, now just isn’t a good time okay? Come back tomorrow, he’s off in the afternoon anyway.”

“If something’s wrong with Steve then I should know about it! You realize I was his best friend before you, right?”

“Oh, as if!”

Getting into an argument over who was Steve’s true best friend was as good of a distraction as Max could ask for. Robin didn’t even notice her slink into the house, making her way into the living room with none the wiser. 

She peered over the couch, heart immediately sinking at the sight of Steve laying down, red-eyed and sniffling. Her well curated plans flew out the window at the sight, and the question was out before she could even remember she was trying to be sneaky here, “Why are you crying?”

Steve nearly jumped ten feet in the air at the question, flailing off the couch at the sight of Max suddenly standing over him.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Steve gasped, pulling himself up from the floor.

She shrugged, casually moving to sit next to him, too concerned to be embarrassed over being caught, “You left the back door unlocked. Why are you crying?”

“I wasn’t crying!” 

She rolled her eyes, “Then why were you crying? Was it Nancy again?” Max asked, lowering her voice, “Because I wouldn’t mind putting her in her place if she’s messing with you-”

Steve gave a shaky laugh at the barely veiled threat, oddly endeared despite the fact that she broke into his house, “It’s not Nancy. Jesus calm down.” 

Steve turned to the entryway, calling after Robin, “Just let him in, Robs, the other one already snuck past you anyway.”

That was all the invitation Dustin needed to push past her, immediately frowning when he saw Steve. He turned to Robin, “Did you make him cry?”

“No, she didn’t-”

“Maybe a little.” Robin mumbled, interrupting him. She plopped next to Steve, dropping a comforting hand to his shoulder, “But my harshness is for his own good.”

Max sat on his other side, leaving Dustin to sit on the floor in front of him, “Can you just tell us what’s been going on with you already?” he sighed,  playing with the carpet fibers, “You might be able to trick everyone else but not us. Right Max?”

“Right.” she agreed, “And if you tell us maybe we can help. Without making you cry.” she emphasized, giving Robin a mean look. 

Steve groaned, rubbing at his face, “I’m fine, I swear! It’s just some dumb shit on my end.”

“Not really dumb…” Robin mumbled next to him, huffing when he elbowed her in the ribs to shut her up, “Babe, they’ve already resorted to breaking and entering, they’re gonna find out eventually anyway.”

Steve groaned, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. This is not where he expected this night to go, but now his two favorite children were staring at him, all wide-eyed and concerned, he didn’t know how to say no to that. The little shits.

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” Steve sighed, completely giving in, again. He was really going to need a better boundaries speech soon, “But I'm telling you with the full expectation that you'll keep it to yourselves okay? And you won't freak out."

“We won’t freak out.” Both kids said in unison, despite the fact that they were very much internally freaking out over what he was about to say. 

"Like seriously, I mean it.” he emphasized, “Remember how many times I've gotten the shit beat out of me for you before you pass judgment."

“And remember that I’m not afraid to hurt children if you cross him either,” Robin added, looking surprisingly threatening, enough to make them double down on the promise to be cool. 

Satisfied, Steve went on, "Well…I'm like Robin, understand? Like…preference wise."

Dustin cocked his head at him, confused, “You mean you like girls? But we knew that?”

"He's gay dingus." Max answered for him, immediately catching on. 

"Bi!" Robin piped up beside him, “He’s playing for both teams.”

Now that was unexpected, at least for Dustin. He stared at him, the shock evident on his face. He was only able to shake it off when he realized Steve was shrinking in on himself, anxiously waiting for him to say something. 

“We love you anyway," Dustin blurted out, just knowing that Max felt the same way, "That’s like nothing. I was worried you were dying or something!"

Max nodded with him, “He’s right, like we won’t tell anyone but I know Lucas wouldn't care either. Or Eddie for that matter.”

Steve only flinched a tiny bit at that, which he was proud of. And honestly, the relief he was feeling was bigger than how bummed out he was about his other problem.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, a grin slowly growing on his face, “Like seriously, that’s a massive load off.”

"And what else?" Max pressed. 

Steve ran a hand over his face, he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to get them off his back, "What do you mean, what else?"

“There’s obviously something else, because you liking guys wouldn’t warrant a harsh lecture.”

Robin huffed, crossing her arms, "He just has bad taste in guys-”

“Dude!” Steve hissed. His face was going red from how hard he was rubbing at it, or maybe he was just that embarrassed. 

“We won’t stop until we find out,” Dustin warned, “We’ll break in again if need be.”

Steve loved these kids, loved them enough to die for them, but god were they annoyingly persistent.

“Fine! Yes, there’s something else. Just don't be weird about it,” he insisted,  “Like this is a me problem, a Steve only problem, so I don't need you two rugrats trying to go full vigilante for me or some shit, got it?"

They nodded, both knowing that they didn’t mean it. 

“I…I kinda have a thing for Eddie. A very, very uninterested Eddie. Who did nothing wrong by the way,” he said, glaring at Robin hard enough to shut her mouth, swallowing whatever comment she was going to add, “It’s a really stupid crush that I need to get over, and that’s all. I swear.”

Max turned to Robin, “Is that true?”

She shrugged, “In essence, technically it’s true.” 

That…that kinda made sense. Max was suddenly reminded of just how often the two of them were together, let alone how touchy feely. Now that it was pointed out to her, she felt kinda dumb for not realizing before. Those two were all over each other. 

Dustin was even more surprised. At least now it made sense why Steve suddenly had an interest in DnD, but he was having a hard time seeing Steve the “Hair” Harrington, be thirsting after his nerdy Dungeon Master. 

Or worse yet, why was his nerdy Dungeon Master not thirsting after Steve?

“Is he straight?” Dustin blurted out. He hadn’t ever thought about it before, but in hindsight Eddie almost never talked about dating, and when he did it was vague with no actual women being mentioned.

Robin cough-laughed next to Steve, “Oh ya, he’s real heterosexual. Straight boys are just known for calling their friends sweetheart-ow!”

Steve threw a pillow at her face, shutting her up before she could get going, “What he is or isn’t into is no one’s business but his own. I just know I’m not in the ‘is into’ category.”

“How do you know?” Max asked. Eddie could surely do a lot worse than Steve. And if Robin is right and he isn’t straight, who is he to think he could do better? Better than the man who literally saved his life. If anything Steve was out of Eddie’s league, not the other way around. 

“I just do. And I really, really don’t want to talk about it anymore. So now you know. Now promise you won't be weird, alright? I’ll get over it. Like soon , I promise.”

He wrapped an arm around Max, and reached down to ruffle Dustin’s hair, a real smile on his face, the kind they both had really missed, “And besides, you two not giving a shit that I’m a fruit matters way more than any crush.”

“That’s such a lame way to put it.” Dustin whined, even though they were both preening internally. Of course, Steve could trust them. They’d love him no matter what, and at least now he knew that. 

“Okay! Well now that you know, you can go now,” Robin stood, gesturing towards the door, “We have a conversation to finish over here.”

Steve groaned behind her, “Do we have to?”

“Yes we have to!”

“Well can I have a break at least?” Steve leaned over, grabbing his keys off the side table, “Drive them home for me and then I’ll suffer through your lecture in the morning.” 

“But-”

He tossed her the keys, consequences be damned. If she crashed, she crashed, at least it will be legal now, “But if you have my car I won’t be able to avoid you that well will I?”

That appeased Robin enough to get her walking towards the door, “Then I’ll be back in the morning, Nine a.m. Sharp. ”

She turned to them, sticking her tongue out at Dustin, “Told you he’d let me drive it. Now let’s go.”

Dustin and Max exchanged looks, reluctant to leave when they were obviously missing a massive part of this story, but Steve was already shooing them out the door. 

He waved at them from the stoop, a tired but sincere smile on his face as he watched them pile into the car. Even if his friends were beyond overbearing, it did feel better to talk about it. He just wished he didn’t have to put his petty problems on literal children.  

He laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

He wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable, and honestly deserved, speech Robin was going to finish tomorrow, but at least he got her out in time before she had even more material to work with. He had never seen her turn so fast and so vindiciatavly against another person before. It made him feel like shit honestly, that Eddie was losing Robin as a friend for his own stupid ego. If she just knew him a little better, then she’d get it. Probably. 

Maybe.

Eddie didn’t have a mean bone in his body, he would never fuck with Steve’s feelings on purpose. All of his jokes, all of the touching and nicknames were just how he showed affection. It isn’t his fault Steve read way too much into it, like a moron. 

And okay, maybe two male best friends don’t call each other baby or sweetheart, but Robin called him babe, so it wasn’t that weird. And so what if they slept in the same bed together almost everyday? It was just helping each other out with nightmares, even if Eddie kissed the top of his head every night, it didn’t mean anything.

Or at least, now it didn’t. 

“Seriously Nance? I’d rather die.”

He groaned, burying his face into the couch cushions at the thought. He was not going to cry again, he refused, but it was still so harsh. From someone who actually almost died, it was quite the fucking statement to make, and maybe Steve should just take it as the obvious no it was. He should be grateful he found out, and didn’t humiliate himself by declaring his everlasting love or some shit. 

If he could go back in time and just not ask , then he wouldn't be here right now. He’d still be in ignorant bliss. But no, he just had to get Nancy Wheeler involved, the queen of reality. Though technically she had wanted to get involved, if nothing but to stop Steve from lamenting about it over the phone. Weirdly enough, distance had been great for their relationship, and now they were closer than ever, talking for hours whenever either needed to vent, Nancy about school or her failed relationship with Johnathan that she still wasn't over, and Steve, consistently, about his almost boyfriend, Eddie. 

It had taken months for it to finally happen, but she was so sick of his pining, she had cracked, “I’m just going to ask him when I’m home next Steve, I swear to God.”

“No you will not. Nancy, that is so freaking highschool it isn’t even funny.”

“He was just in highschool, so it’s fitting. And then you can stop wasting your time whining about him and just make-out with him. Next weekend, I’m doing it, like it or not.”

He should have insisted on the no, but instead he went full highschool girl and went along with it. They met at her place, under the pretense of a small get-together while her parents were out of town. He left Eddie with her in the basement, pretending to go to the bathroom when he really stopped at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping  as Nancy casually asked the questions he was too chicken-shit to do himself, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

Eddie had almost choked on his drink at that, “No? Why Wheeler, you interested? Because I doubt Johnathan or Steve would be too keen on that.”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “No offense Eddie, but you’re definitely not my type. And I don’t think I’m yours either . I don’t think any girl in Hawkins is.”

Eddie stared at her, gnawing on his lower lip, “Good guess. And if you happened to be right, then you can probably understand why I keep that part of my life on the down low.”

She nodded, “I’m not going to tell anyone, believe me. I was just curious if anyone had caught your eye.”

“In this town? No one. There are literally zero options.”

“Oh come on, Steve’s cute, there’s an option.”

He had laughed at that, loud and mean as he shook his head, “Me and Steve? Seriously Nance? I’d rather die .”

Steve wasn’t sure what he had expected to hear, but it definitely wasn’t that. It hurt, it hurt bad, which was stupid considering they were never together, or even close to it, outside of the wild leaps Steve had made in his head. The logic hadn’t stopped the tears from gathering in his eyes though. 

Robin, in all of her ill-timed glory, decided that was the best moment for her to bust through the front door, calling loudly into the house. Steve scrambled to meet her, just in time to avoid Eddie seeing him spying like a creep. It had been a terrible fucking night, but at least Nancy was kind enough to lie about her parents coming home early so Steve could sulk at home in peace. She had apologized to him at least ten times since then, and had jumped straight onto the Eddie hate-train with Robin pretty soon after. They had both been so sure that he felt the same way, they channeled all their disappointment into rage, at someone who really didn’t deserve it. 

Steve shouldn’t have told Robin what happened, wouldn’t have if he’d known she’d be so insane about the whole thing. Even if she had some good points. Was it healthy to pretend like nothing was wrong and let Eddie hang all over him with no future of an actual relationship? No. Was it stopping Steve from doing it? Also no. 

Steve jumped when he heard the doorbell ring, too lost in his own thoughts to realize it was past midnight. There was only one person it could be. He scrambled to get the door, always stupidly excited to see him, already grinning when he came face to face with the source of all of his shitty feelings, and the only person who even slightly made him feel better about it.

“Y’know, I gave you a key so you could use it,” he teased as Eddie stepped past him, right at home, “I don’t know why you always make me answer the door.”

“Maybe I just want to see your pretty face, is that such a crime?” Eddie was doing that thing again, that sweet way of talking that made Steve feel like he was about to melt. That thing that Robin insisted Steve put a stop to if he had any sense of self-worth.

Lucky for him, he didn’t. 

Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing for Eddie’s hand to lead him upstairs, “No, but making me lose sleep is. My pretty face is exhausted from waiting for your ass. We’re going to bed.”

Eddie was laughing behind him, with his stupidly pretty voice. The voice that haunted Steve’s dreams at night, “Whatever you say princess.” 

Steve should have been thinking about what Robin said as he curled up against Eddie’s chest in his bed. This was bad for him, no matter how good it felt in the moment. The nights of Eddie wrapping his arms around him, kissing his head, whispering sweet dreams, in his ear, had an expiration date, he knew that now. 

But that wouldn’t stop him from hanging onto it for as long as he could. 

Part 2!

[artiststarme]

From Alibi to Reality

A little something different, I hope you guys like it! Title brought to you by @nburkhardt. Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve knew he was going to act as Eddie’s beard for the cops and the town. That was a no-brainer, it was the only way to clear Eddie’s name. He discussed it with Hopper, the kids, and Robin. Everyone determined that the shock factor of Steve “The Hair” Harrington dating the town freak was the only thing that was going to change Powell’s mind and make him drop the charges. The thing no one could agree on was how to broach the subject. 

Dustin thought that telling the police directly would be the best way, Robin thought they should build up to the declaration, and Nancy thought it was a stupid idea because no one would believe that lady-killer Steve Harrington was into a guy (little did she know). Regardless, all of his friends thought talking was the best course to take. 

But Steve was a man of action, not words. All of the Party’s plans involved discussing their “relationship” like civilized adults. The problem was though, they weren’t talking to civilized adults. They were talking to his brother, a known dumbass, and the new Chief of Police that wanted to hunt down a bunch of kids because Jason fucking Carver told him to. 

So he was going to handle this the way he handled every shitty situation thrown his way. He was going to wing it. It had worked for him thus far and it hadn’t failed him yet. So, for the rest of the Party’s meeting, Steve zoned out. He thought about how fucked he was going to be when his parents found out about this, how much shit he’d have to take from the rest of the town, and how ostracised he’d be. But it was the only way to clear Eddie’s name. 

Eddie had jumped into the lake after him and saved his life before protecting Dustin from demobats. He was a part of the Party now and Steve would do anything to protect the Party. So, he was fine with ruining his reputation and probably being disowned by his parents for  tainting the Harrington name. As long as Eddie was okay in the end, nothing else mattered. 

~*~*~*~

They neglected to tell Eddie the plan. He hadn’t seen any of the Party members since the police realized he was being treated at the hospital and barred anyone from seeing him until they questioned him. He was just minding his own business, ignoring the two doofus cops trying to question him, and looking forward to whatever the Party came up with to clear his name. Eddie wasn’t sure if whatever their plan was was going to work or even if they meant what they’d said. However, he had hope. Mostly because the only other option would be joining his dad in a cell for murders he didn’t even commit. 

That’s when it happened. Steve stormed into his hospital room with a flourish, slamming the door against the wall and scaring the two cops. 

Eddie watched as the tall one’s eyes narrowed, “Steve, you better have a good explanation for this one-“

He didn’t pay attention to what else was said. One minute, he was looking at an angry Harrington walking into his room and the next, said Harrington was kissing him. On the lips! 

Mother of fuck, Eddie had died and gone to heaven because all of his dreams were coming true. He didn’t know what Steve was playing at but Eddie wasn’t complaining. He just slipped his eyes closed and kissed him back with equal fervor.

He was pulled from their passionate kissing by a loud, “Son of a bitch, Steve! The murderer?! What the fuck? I thought your taste was bad when you were dating the priss but now this? Jesus Fuck, bro!”

“Officer Callahan, please maintain your composure.”

“My composure?!” His voice was shrill as he shrieked in his own defense. “Powell, my brother is macking on fucking Munson! What the fuck? How am I supposed to maintain my composure?!”

Eddie pulled away from Steve, “your brother is Officer Callahan?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that not come up when you were defiling my baby brother?!” Callahan yelled at him, waving his hands in the air maniacally. 

“No, actually. It didn’t,” Eddie told him. 

Callahan let out a sound of frustration before pointing at Steve, letting out another frustrated noise, and stalking out. Steve and Eddie turned to Powell who just looked tired. 

“I assume this is why you wouldn’t tell us your alibi for the night of the murder, Munson?” He sighed. 

“That’s right, there was no way in hell I was going to out my boyfriend. Apparently he does it himself though,” Eddie gave Steve the side eye. Why had he chosen to do this? He’d known the guy for like two weeks and he was just throwing his life away to protect Eddie. What the hell?

Powell turned to Steve, “is that true? Mr. Munson was with you the night that Chrissy Cunningham was murdered?”

“That’s right. We were watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Alien before going to bed. He stayed the whole night laying in bed next to me, there’s no way he could’ve murdered anybody,” Steve nodded. 

Powell just shook his head at them, “fine, Munson. I’m clearing you but don’t leave town.” 

“I won’t sir, thank you for doing your due diligence. It was at my expense but still, thanks,” Eddie said sarcastically. 

He shot them one last disbelieving look before following his partner. Then all that was left was Eddie and Steve. 

Eddie whipped his head around to Steve. “Now what the hell was that?!”

“Hey! Don’t talk to your boyfriend that way!”

“Seriously Steve-”

“Eddie, I swear to god if you don’t kiss me again in the next twenty seconds, I’ll go get Powell and tell him I changed my mind,” Steve threatened him with narrowed eyes. 

How was Eddie supposed to refuse him after that?

My Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @straight4joekeery @carlyv @pyrohonk @ksherlock15 @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschildextra @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @anzelsilver @devondespresso @gregre369 @mysticcrownshipper @disasterlia @lillys-weird-world @messrs-weasley @pnk-lemonades @orangesunsets12 @awkotaco24

@strangerthingfanfic @dangdirtydemons @bookworm0690 @hannahhook7744 @dreamlandforever @marsbars97 @precursorandthedragon @romanticdestruction @5ammi90 @death-thee-nervousqueer @panicatthediaz @justforthedead89 @futuristicnachostranger @breadboi66

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

perfectly un-ordinary

words: 4,979

ao3

Nancy’s soulmark is perfectly ordinary.

Just a simple bird on a branch. Birdie is written underneath it in loopy, neat handwriting. It fits neatly over two of her ribs, which is a perfectly normal place for it. Nothing extraordinary about it. Just a simple design that represents the nickname given to her soulmate by the most important person in her soulmate’s life. Typically, it’s the nickname that soulmates end up giving to each other, but the handwriting…isn’t Nancy’s.

The handwriting is Steve Harrington’s.

Whoever her soulmate is, Steve Harrington, at some point, will end up calling them Birdie.

Whoever her soulmate is, Steve Harrington will be the most important person in their life.

She stares down at the note in her locker, the all-too-familiar handwriting that makes the spot on her ribs burn, the sweet and surprisingly kind words from the most popular boy in school, who’s asking her out. Nancy can’t imagine her soulmate being someone like Tommy Hagan or Carol Perkins, because they’re awful, and she doesn’t even understand why Steve hangs out with them. But those are Steve’s closest friends.

Nancy goes out with him anyway, because he’s the most popular boy in school, and he’s gorgeous, and she figures she’s got time before he ends up calling someone else Birdie, which means she’ll eventually have to break up with him. But he’s good to her, and while she knows it’s doomed, it’s fun and new. It’s something easy, and they both know they might not last forever, because Steve makes a remark about how her handwriting is so tiny, says some cheesy line about how it must be hard to read her own soulmark, and she lets herself giggle along.

She doesn’t see Steve’s soulmark, not even when they’re both naked and tangled in his sheets; she figures it must be somewhere unique, somewhere out of the ordinary. But she’s careful, keeps hers covered. It’s not hard to, in the dark, if she keeps her upper arm by her side. She buys soulmark patches the next morning, because there’s that weird guilt in her gut, and she can’t make eye contact with herself in the mirror as she adheres the patch to her two ribs.

After the demogorgon, after Barb, after the lights and the gun and the nailbat, Nancy briefly entertains the idea that maybe Steve considers himself the most important person in his life, venomously thinks that, sitting with him at the Hollands’ dinner table, it wouldn’t be out of character for him to be that self-absorbed. She feels guilty almost immediately for thinking that, of course, but…it’s hard.

And when she learns on November first that she’d thrown the fact that they could never work in his face, that she knew they’d been doomed from the start and told him as much, told him he was bullshit, she gets defensive. Brushes him off.

He’s not really her soulmate anyway, so what does it matter?

She can’t imagine her soulmate is Jonathan, either, even with his lips on hers, her body under his, because he and Steve hate each other, but he’s sweet, he’s soft, he wants justice, justice the same way she does. He holds her like she’s something special, even though she can see the surfboard on his collarbone, the word Dude underneath it in Jonathan’s own handwriting. He’s like her, then, open to whatever gender his soulmate might be, boy or girl, and he isn’t afraid to show her things like that. He isn’t closed-off. Not like Steve was.

Steve.

God, Nancy still can’t believe he’d just given her a sad smile and told her to go with Jonathan. It bodes well for staying in his social circle, for perhaps eventually meeting the ever-elusive Birdie, though Nancy’s hope dwindles with every passing day Steve remains at a steady zero friends outside of their ragtag, world-saving group.

She hates that her soulmate is contingent on Steve staying in her life. She hates that he’ll probably have a hand in introducing them to her. She hates the way she still hasn’t apologized. Hates the way Mike says Steve’s name with a sneer every time he’s brought up in conversation, because her little brother is nothing if not loyal, and it hadn’t even been Steve’s fault, not really. Though Steve hadn’t exactly been the best boyfriend, he hadn’t deserved that.

If he’s the most important person in Nancy’s soulmate’s life, Nancy’s eventually going to have to swallow her pride and make amends.

But for now, she has Jonathan. She only has to worry about Jonathan. And she loves him, she thinks, in a way she hadn’t loved Steve. Maybe she hadn’t let herself, because she knew that it couldn’t be him, but she might not be letting herself love Jonathan the way he deserves, either. Maybe she’s not trying hard enough to understand his side of things when they get into an argument the summer before senior year, but she thinks of Dude and their surfboard, and she thinks he might not be letting himself love her the way she deserves, either.

She stops bothering with the soulmark patches that night. Nancy figures that it’s not worth the hassle anymore, if Jonathan’s just gonna keep being his same bullheaded self. So she sets her jaw and keeps investigating, because that’s what she’s good at, and it gets her into a whole heaping helping of trouble. By the end of it, though, after the flesh monster and Russians under the mall, she and Jonathan have more than made up.

And he’s good to her. He’s good to her like no one else has been, he’s safe. He’s familiar enough that it gives her the comfort to get through the rest of the summer. They even make plans to apply to the same colleges—hopefully Emerson, Nancy’s got her fingers crossed that they’ll both be early acceptance—but Jonathan’s moving away. It’ll be harder, the long distance, but Nancy thinks it’ll be worth it to try.

They’ve been through too much together not to try, right? Screw Steve and his Birdie, Nancy will find a way to bend those letters until they read Jon in Will’s handwriting, until the bird on the branch becomes a camera, she’ll do it out of spite, she’ll find a way. Who cares if their relationship isn’t universe-approved? They’re good. They’re familiar. They’re comfortable.

Jonathan calls her in December, after the Byers’ move. Tells her that he found someone whose soulmark is a camera. J-Man to match his Dude. Nancy grits her teeth and tells him she’s happy for him. He whispers that he still loves her, but. But. She wishes him luck with his soulmate and hangs up, spending the rest of the break holed up in her room.

It’s not until the day after New Years that Mike finally snaps.

“You’re a hermit,” he snaps at her when she slips out of her room to get a glass of water, which means he’s worried about her. She scowls at him, though, because she doesn’t want his worry, his pity. Mike rolls his jaw. “You’re—I get that you’re sad about Jonathan dumping you, but you can’t just—”

“He found his soulmate,” Nancy cuts in hollowly.

Mike blinks, shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know,” he mutters, all embarrassed, and Nancy just nods. She’s tired. She’s long since gone back to using the soulmark patches. She doesn’t need to see Steve Harrington’s handwriting mocking her in the mirror. Mike nudges at her ankle with his socked foot. “That sucks.”

She knows Mike doesn’t know how it feels, because he doesn’t have his soulmark yet. He’ll get it next year, sure—and he’s really cocky about guessing that it’s El—but he doesn’t get it yet. He’s been a real asshole, lately, more so than usual, and he smells gross most of the time, doesn’t bother with deodorant if he’s staying at home for the day, and he’s been hanging out with that guy that stands on the cafeteria tables too much, because he’s been dramatic as hell.

But he’s being kind to her now, even if his kindness is a little awkwardly stilted.

“My soulmark handwriting isn’t mine,” she confesses. She doesn’t know why she’s telling him. Their mom doesn’t even know. She’s never shown her own mother her soulmark. “It’s…the most important person in their life isn’t me. I thought I might eventually be Jonathan’s, that we could’ve—it’s stupid. Fucking…forget it.”

“No,” Mike says, all furrowed brows and determination. “It’s important.”

Nancy’s eyes start to well with tears, embarrassingly enough. “I wished it would change,” she whispers. “After Starcourt, I wished it would change. I wanted it to be a camera. I wanted to have different handwriting on my skin. I wanted to change it through…sheer will or some shit? I don’t know.”

Mike nods, like he gets it, even if he doesn’t. “What is it?” he asks, because he has no manners, in spite of their parents’ best efforts. At the hesitation that must show on Nancy’s face, Mike winces, backtracks. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But…does anybody else know what it is?”

Shaking her head, Nancy sniffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “No. I used soulmark patches ’til Starcourt, but…Jonathan didn’t see it after, either,” she says.

Mike makes a face. “Oh, is it on, like, a gross part of your body? ’Cuz if that’s the case, I do not wanna see it—”

“Shut up, Mike,” Nancy laughs, “it’s on my ribs.”

Humming, Mike nods. “Suits you,” he says, and he doesn’t elaborate, and she doesn’t know what he means by that. But it’s nice nonetheless. She’s never heard it before. Mike tilts his head. “You wanna show me?”

Nancy bites her bottom lip. “Yeah, okay,” she murmurs, yanking the side of her shirt up just enough to show her bottom two ribs, and she picks at the soulmark patch that covers Birdie and the branch. “Just don’t, like, be an asshole about it, okay?”

Uncharacteristically serious, Mike nods again and keeps his eyes on her ribs as she peels the patch off. “Do you know whose handwriting it is?” he asks, and Nancy swallows.

“No,” she lies, and he lets her.

“It’s cool,” Mike decides, and Nancy lets her shirt fall. There’s a long moment where neither of them say anything, and Nancy takes the time the silence occupies to fill that glass of water she’d wanted. As she sips on it, Mike rocks on his heels and avoids her eye. “For what it’s worth, El’s probably gonna have your handwriting calling me a dick or something.”

Nancy’s heart seizes. “Oh,” she chokes. “Then, I—I think Birdie probably has yours.”

“Gross. I don’t like it when you’re sappy,” Mike groans, but there’s the hint of a smile on his face.

“You started it,” she scoffs.

Mike wrinkles his nose up at her. “Did not.”

She grins. “Did too.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Whatever. Loser.”

Nancy goes into the New Year with a little less weight on her shoulders.

Then, because apparently she’s not allowed to relax for extended periods of time anymore, her spring break goes to hell. There’s a dead cheerleader, then a dead friend subordinate, and then she’s taking Robin to go investigate a shot-in-the-dark lead. Robin, Steve’s not-girlfriend, ends up finding something really worthwhile, and something new and exciting turns in Nancy’s gut when Robin goes on a tirade in the director’s office. She’s interested, intrigued, even, and she chocks it up to journalistic instinct for now, because she has more important things to worry about.

And Steve does his stupid heroics, diving into Lover’s Lake, and Robin and Eddie are too busy panicking, so Nancy jumps in first.

It’s only because no one else is going to.

It isn’t because of Birdie.

It isn’t because of Birdie, who she’s never met. It isn’t because if Steve dies, Birdie loses the most important person in their life. It isn’t because she cares whether Steve’s handwriting under the bird and the branch changes to someone else’s. It isn’t because of Robin’s voice cracking as she screams Steve’s name in panic. Nancy isn’t that selfless.

So it’s only because she’s got to be the leader.

That same reasoning is also why she wraps Steve’s wounds. If he bleeds out in the Upside Down because he decided to play the hero, she’s going to kill him. His death would be a major inconvenience, that’s all. That’s all it is.

Nancy stays with Robin, because Steve seems to be having a crisis that Eddie is not helping, and maybe it’s a little vindictive to leave a stressed-out Steve with the guy that refuses to respect his personal space, but Nancy is stressed out, too, and can’t bring herself to feel guilty about it. And Robin is funny, makes a joke about Nancy needing to hire a maid in the Upside Down version of her house. Nancy’s glad she’d decided to keep Robin company rather than either of the two boys.

Not that she has anything against Eddie, save for his theatrics. And her grudge against Steve is almost entirely baseless at this point. Whatever. Emotions take too much effort to parse through, and Nancy has to save that effort for sawing the end off a shotgun.

Which is not-so-technically a felony.

Steve tells her that his dream, with the six kids that Nancy doesn’t want and the white picket fence that makes Nancy nauseous, was about her.

“You’re not my soulmate,” she tells him, grim and annoyed. They have more important things to handle than his desperate, end-of-the-world delirium driven by blood loss and his crippling fear of dying alone.

“Right, yeah, I know that,” he says, ears tinged red with embarrassment. “Sorry to—”

“I don’t want an apology,” she snaps. “I want to kill Vecna.”

Steve nods, gestures for her to move ahead. “Let’s—so let’s go, then,” he says, and he sounds so horribly distraught. “Robin’s, um—she’s probably waiting on us to catch up.”

Nancy moves ahead wordlessly. She doesn’t want Steve’s advances, isn’t interested in rekindling things. She has no idea why he’s trying to fan flames that are nonexistent on her end, why he seems so confused at his own actions, and she doesn’t really care to find out. Not when they have to kill Henry Creel, not when there’s so much on the line.

And they do.

Kill Henry Creel, that is.

Not without consequence. Not without Steve carrying a barely-alive Eddie out of the Upside Down, and not without Max breaking three of her four limbs. But they’re both still alive, albeit in the hospital, Hawkins is still intact, and Nancy will count it as a win. Hopefully, it’s the final win. She can’t imagine having to go through something like this again.

The Byers family comes back into town, Mike, El, Murray, and Hopper in tow, the last of which is incredibly surprising, though through a long explanation about a Russian prison and an escape helicopter, Nancy supposes it makes sense. Things are tense and awkward between her and Jonathan, and between Jonathan and Mike, for whatever reason, and Nancy’s too focused on putting together a cover story with Owens that’ll clear Eddie’s name to bother with all that.

Birdie remains uninvestigated on her ribs, at least for a while.

She gets closer with Robin and Eddie, and getting closer with Robin means patching things up with Steve, because the two are virtually inseparable. It’s a painful and drawn-out conversation, full of begrudging apologies,  painful stitches over a wound that’s gone untended for too long. It sucks, but it’s necessary. Nancy knows it’s necessary, and not just for the sake of her friendship with Robin, not just for Birdie’s sake, but for her own, as well.

And for Steve’s. She’d hurt him, after all, and he’d been owed an apology for a long time.

They’re smoking in Eddie’s new government-gifted trailer—something Nancy had never thought she’d ever be doing—the first time the topic of soulmates-slash-soulmarks is brought up in their new little friend group.

“Have any of you guys met your soulmate?” Eddie asks, taking a long drag from the joint, and Robin shifts uncomfortably.

“I think I have,” she murmurs, “but I don’t know. I feel like…like my soulmate would’ve said, you know? But it’s a pretty common nickname for a pretty common name, so…”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Plus, it sucks when your soulmark’s handwriting isn’t your own, because then you have to rely on other people’s nicknames for your soulmate,” he groans, and Nancy sits up straighter. Eddie passes the joint to Steve. “And, like, then you have to ask people what their handwriting looks like, which makes them give you the saddest looks you’ve ever seen.”

“No one’s seen my soulmark but Mike,” Nancy says quietly. “So…at least I get what the first part’s like.”

“Your soulmark has someone else’s handwriting?” Steve asks her around a mouthful of smoke, and he sounds curious with just a hint of hurt, like he can’t believe she hasn’t told them. “D’you know whose it is?”

Nancy just shrugs.

“My soulmark has someone else’s handwriting, too,” Robin says. “I don’t know whose handwriting it is, either.”

There’s a little bit of guilt Nancy feels at that, because Robin and Eddie clearly think she’s able to commiserate with them about not being the most important person in their soulmates’ lives and not knowing who that other person is, but she can’t, because she knows exactly who that person is, and he’s in the room with them. Nancy takes the joint when Steve passes it to her and takes a quick pull, coughing slightly.

Eddie grins wolfishly at the sound. She flips him off. “Look, all I know is that when I meet my soulmate, we’re gonna have some words,” Eddie jokes, and Nancy laughs along with Steve and Robin. Eddie nods at the rest of them. “What do your marks look like? You don’t have to show it if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

Neither Robin nor Steve make any move to show theirs.

“It’s a bird,” Nancy says. “I, um—it’s a weird nickname. I don’t even know if—”

She cuts herself off. She can’t come out and say that she doesn’t know whether Steve’s even met Birdie yet. Mercifully, no one presses further.

“Mine’s a chart,” Eddie offers. “There’s, like, two categories, and whoever wrote them has the same handwriting as the, uh…the nickname.”

“A chart?” Robin asks, brows furrowed. “What kinda chart?”

“It’s just on, like, a piece of paper or something, I don’t know,” Eddie huffs with a frustrated shrug, and Steve lays back until his head’s on Robin’s lap.

“I know who mine is,” he says quietly.

That’s news to all of them, it would seem.

Immediately, Eddie and Robin jump into hounding him about who it is, and Nancy is content to sit back and let it happen until Steve’s face screws up into an expression she only remembers from hazy, drunken memories. “Both of you, shut up!” she says, and they do, because even outside of the Upside Down, her voice carries some authority.

“Thanks,” Steve murmurs.

Nancy nods.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you figured it out,” Robin tuts, and Steve reaches up to tap her nose with his pointer finger.

“You’ve seen his soulmark?” Eddie asks her, and Robin nods, a glint in her eye Nancy recognizes as the same glint she’d had there during her speech in the director’s office.

It makes Nancy’s face go hot.

It’s clear that Steve doesn’t want to keep talking about it, so Nancy pushes the conversation towards a debate on what movie they’ll be watching that night. As Robin and Eddie bicker, she locks eyes with Steve, who gives her a small, grateful smile. It feels good, feels like the real beginning of a genuine friendship.

And Nancy isn’t used to having this many friends. Sure, she’s surrounded by people at the school newspaper, but now she’s got people to walk through the halls with at school, people to sit next to in the cafeteria, and she hasn’t had that since…well, since Barb. It’s been years since she’s had a sleepover with friends, and she’s been having them almost every other day. It’s warm, and it’s good, and Nancy feels like she has a community to fall back on, people her age who really get her. It’s wonderful and nerve-wracking all at once.

“Whose handwriting is on your soulmark?” Steve asks her on a warm spring evening in April, while Robin and Eddie are bustling away in the kitchen in Steve’s big house.

For some reason, Nancy finds herself feeling comfortable enough to tell the truth. “Yours,” she says, a quiet confession, and he blinks in surprise.

“I’m the most important person in someone’s life? Someone other than my soulmate?” he asks, barely above a whisper, and she can’t help herself—she hugs him.

It’s not long after that before Eddie approaches her in a frenzied hurricane of hair, gangly limbs, and just a touch of panic.

“I think I need to show you my soulmark,” he tells her, and before she can get a word in edgewise, because he has just burst rather unceremoniously into her bedroom, Eddie starts to pace. “Because, I—well, it’s complicated, because I think I figured out who it is, and if I’m right, then it means things might be awkward between you and me, but I also don’t think they will…? I mean, he says he’s over—and you say you’re over—”

“Eddie,” Nancy says, “slow down.”

Eddie unbuckles his pants. Nancy whirls her head away.

“No, it’s not—! Look!” Eddie tells her, and Nancy puts her hands over her eyes, peeking through her fingers at him.

There’s a big square on his hip with two columns—the chart, she realizes as she puts her hands down—and the titles on each column read You Rule and You Suck with some tallies under the second column, but none under the first. In the same handwriting, Dingus is scrawled underneath it. Nancy’s seen that handwriting before. It’s the same handwriting from the notes she’d borrowed from Robin the other day because she’d skipped out on first period to chase a scoop.

“Your soulmate is Steve,” she realizes.

Eddie lets out a pained sort of noise. “And it’s—and you—! But you guys aren’t, so I figured it’d be fine, but—!” he cuts himself off with another pained half-scream, redoing his pants.

“Steve and Robin are the most important people in each other’s lives,” Nancy breathes.

Birdie.

“I know! And I’m not—I don’t want to disrespect that, I’m just—Nancy, I’m freaking out!” Eddie says through clenched teeth.

“Steve is the most important person in Robin’s life,” Nancy whimpers.

Birdie. Bird on a branch. Steve’s handwriting.

Robin. A robin on a branch.

Birdie.

“Okay, I feel like our crises are branching a little here,” Eddie says, hands steepled over his mouth, and Nancy whips her shirt off. Eddie mimics her earlier actions, turning on his heel in the other direction immediately. “Woah, Wheeler, I do not need to see—”

“My soulmark—my soulmate—Eddie, look,” she tells him.

Eddie winces as he turns around, and Nancy jabs a finger pointedly at her ribs. “Birdie,” Eddie reads aloud. His eyes go wide. “Oh, holy shit.”

“Steve’s soulmark is the only one of ours that isn’t different handwriting,” she reminds him. “Are you…okay with not being the most important—”

“Wheeler, I’m not stupid enough to hope to come close to Robin,” Eddie tells her. “Are…you okay with it? I mean, it’s different for you, someone’s apparently more important to you, too.”

Nancy’s mind flashes back to that conversation in the kitchen after New Years. “I’m okay with it,” she says, because she is. “Is—do either of them—”

“Steve knows,” Eddie says. “He knows and he didn’t tell me—”

“That’s not because you’re you, it’s because he’s self-sabotaging,” Nancy says. “But Robin said she thought she might know—”

“None of that from you, either,” Eddie snaps. “This isn’t a goddamn pity party.”

Nancy balks. “Then what the hell is it?”

Eddie waves his hands out manically. “I don’t know!”

Nancy throws her shirt back on, flops back against her bed. “Shit,” she grits out, “we should tell them. We have to.”

The mattress dips beside her. “Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “We do.”

“Does soulmark handwriting ever change?” Nancy wonders. “Not that I’m—like you said, I’d never hope for it, I’m just curious.”

“It’s ridiculously rare, but my uncle’s soulmate’s did,” Eddie whispers. “It changed from his soulmate’s to mine the day I was sent to live with him.”

Nancy can’t help but smile at that. It’s sweet. “If that’s the case, I think Mike’s future soulmate might have to cycle through, like, five different handwritings depending on who’s pissed him off the least that day,” she jokes, and Eddie laughs.

Silence washes over them. It’s comfortable, even if it’s unlike Eddie to be so silent.

He threads his fingers through hers. “Fuck it. Maybe we’ll eventually be each other’s most important people,” Eddie muses. “Y’know, since our soulmates are attached at the hip, we’ll probably end up like that, too.”

Nancy thinks she wouldn’t mind that all too much.

She ends up taking a page out of Steve’s book, surprisingly enough, and making her way to Robin’s second-story bedroom window that very same night. When she taps on the glass, Robin falls out of her chair and ends up scrambling over on all fours to open the window up. It’s so unbelievably charming. Robin helps her in, and the feel of her skin against Nancy’s makes her shudder, so thrilling that Nancy’s grin probably makes her seem like a crazy person.

“Jesus Christ, Nance, what are you doing here?” Robin hisses. “You probably could have come in the front door, I don’t think my parents really care—”

“I needed to talk to you. Didn’t have time for pleasantries,” Nancy says, breathless. “You’re—I need to tell you something. Something important.”

Robin goes a little pale. “Oh, shit, is this, like, a Code Red situation? Are we—did it come back?” she whispers, and Nancy shakes her head.

“No, it’s good, I—at least, I hope you think it’s good,” Nancy says, and Robin quirks a confused smile at her. Nancy pulls the side of her shirt up carefully. “I…have reason to think this nickname belongs to you.”

Robin’s hand is trembling as she reaches out to brush her fingers against the lettering, tracing the shape of the bird on the branch. The robin on the branch. Warmth spreads from the spot on the mark Robin had touched. “I—it’s you? I get to have you as my soulmate?” Robin asks, and she makes it sound like a profound honor, like it’s too good to be true, like Nancy is worth that much love.

“If you’ll have me,” Nancy whispers. “I’m stubborn and judgemental and I’ve hurt people, I’m too single-minded sometimes and it makes me withdraw into myself. I’m not good at loving other people and I make bad decisions and—”

“You’re everything,” Robin tells her.

It’s too much.

“I’ve been self-destructing about my soulmate since I got my mark,” Nancy tells her. “I thought—I dated Steve, knowing it was his handwriting, a-and then I dated Jonathan, knowing it couldn’t be him, and I’m so glad it wasn’t either of them, because you’re—Robin, you’re smart and you’re driven and you’re so, so kind to me. You’re beautiful.”

Robin’s breath hitches. “Nancy—”

“I don’t want to self-destruct with you,” Nancy says. “And I won’t. I don’t think you’d let me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Robin agrees. “I like you too much for that.”

“Let me see yours?” Nancy asks, and Robin nods, face flushed as she rolls up her pyjama pant leg to reveal her upper thigh.

There’s a spiral of memo pad pages surrounding a gorgeous fountain pen, and Nance is scrawled down the side of Robin’s thigh in Mike’s handwriting. Nancy traces the lines of the pages with her fingers, slides her palm over the pen. It’s beautiful. Intricate. As detailed as her own, and that makes something warm blossom in Nancy’s chest.

To her surprise, Robin’s mark fills with color, and the two of them watch in awe as ink splotches start to appear on the pages. Robin gasps. “Nancy, the bird—”

Nancy looks down, at where she’s still keeping her shirt raised, and sure enough, it’s the colors of an actual robin. “Holy shit,” Nancy breathes, more excited than she thinks she’s ever been in her entire life. Her eyes lock with Robin’s. “Can I…can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Robin says, voice hoarse, and Nancy surges forward, letting go of her shirt so she can keep one hand on Robin’s thigh, on Robin’s soulmark, while cupping her face with the other.

Their lips meet, and it’s wonderful. Nancy hums contentedly as Robin’s mouth moves against hers, slow and gentle. Her hands flit up to link around the back of Nancy’s neck, and her cheek grows warmer under Nancy’s touch. Robin’s clearly not a very experienced kisser, but Nancy doesn’t mind at all, perfectly content to nip at Robin’s bottom lip and draw pretty little noises from her throat. Robin pulls back after a moment to catch her breath, and Nancy smiles at her.

“I’m glad it’s you,” she murmurs.

Robin beams at her. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

And just like that, Nancy doesn’t think her soulmark is very ordinary at all anymore.

[thesapphicsoldier]

All I do is win

[afewproblems]

Warm my Cold and Tired Heart (Part One)

Steve slowly walks around the cluttered and dirty boat house, armed with an oar and reflexes honed from years of basketball and baseball practice. He ignores the irritable scoffs and doubting gaze that Dustin keeps shooting him from the sidelines as he prods the lumpy tarps draped over the single boat. Dappled moonlight barely streams through grimey windows, while the smell of gasoline and mold stings sharply in his nose. Steve tamps down the urge to rub at his face, it's not a pleasant smell by any means but it's not the fetid stench of the Upside Down, this one still holds notes of the living rather than the decay of the Otherworld.

In his periphery Steve watches as Robin moves towards the table that Max is standing by, he can hear the crinkling of wrappers and soft words. He closes his eyes at the loud sigh that Dustin makes again, god help him the little shit can be incredibly irritating when he wants to be.

“Someone was here,” Max says, a hint of urgency to her words as she lifts up a candy wrapper to the light of her flashlight. 

“Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran,” Robin whispers, glancing back towards the dark shadows curling around corners; Steve catches her eye and tries for a small smile - something to ease her anxiety, not that his is any better. The boat house is giving him the creeps.

“Don’t worry, Steve will get him with his oar,” Dustin snips, his voice pitched with sarcasm, Steve rolls his eyes and continues to prod the tarps, the oar in question jams into the boat roughly.

“I know you think you’re being funny Henderson,” Steve huffs as he lifts the oar away from the boat, “but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally - I don’t find it very funny-”

A sudden movement, the rippling of the tarp, a gutteral roar from the dark sends the party into a frenzy, Steve rips away from the dark shape ambling towards him, he moves in front of Dustin - pushing the teen out of the line of fire, a small gasp of terror tumbles from his open mouth as the creature crashes into Steve.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” cries Steve as his body is forced back into the wall of the boat house, a beam from Dustin’s flashlight chaotically spins around him and the person --it's a person he realises, shoves him backwards. 

Steve’s back collides with the corrugated aluminum and his head follows, the crack of his skull reverberates around the room, clashing with the screams from Robin and Max.

It’s Eddie, Eddie holding him against the wall, one hand on the juncture of his shoulder and throat while the other presses the edge of what feels like broken glass to his adams apple. Steve swallows down a whimper and holds up his hands, raising his chin away from the weapon but the glass seems to follow him, Eddie’s hand steady and sure in his grip of Steve. He can vaguely hear Dustin screaming, but the sounds are murky, the ringing in Steve’s ears is loud and lingering.

“-ddie! Eddie! Eddie stop!”

Steve chances a glance to the side, Dustin stands there, trembling, with his arms stretched towards them, Robin and Max stop short behind him. Robin has her own oar in her hands, her knuckles white as she raises the wood up like a sword, a nearly feral look blooms over her face as she holds Steve's gaze. 

Dustin keeps an arm in front of Robin to halt her movement. Max stands frozen, her face twisted into a terrified grimace, the hand holding her flashlight trembles slightly but she manages to keep it fixed on the pair against the wall. 

“Eddie,” Dustin nearly wails, “It’s me, it's Dustin!”

Eddie’s hand moves from Steve's throat to wrap around his shirt, bunching the fabric between sweaty shaking fingers. Eddie raises his fist until it rests against the wall, effectively choking Steve with his own shirt collar. Steve can feel himself shaking as he tries to lift himself up by his tiptoes to lessen the pressure from the fabric on his throat. it wasn’t the first time he’d been threatened with a weapon or even by Eddie himself. 

***

It’s a house party - his own house party, 1984. Steve is moving from the kitchen out to the backyard, through the patio door and onto the cool concrete of the pool area. The yard is bathed in blue shimmering light from the water, steam rises in undulating tendrils as the sun begins to set. Steve suppresses a small wave of nausea at the sight, he hasn’t set foot in the pool since Barb went missing last year, since everything began.

Someone brought the boom box from the living room outside, a soft slow song serenades the yard as people mingle.

‘You say I'm a dreamer, we're two of a kind

Both of us searching for some perfect world we know we'll never find’

There is no one in the pool, about ten kids have crammed themselves into the bubbling hot tub but no one seems brave enough to test the larger swimming pool in the cool evening air. The threat of snow looms in the soft breeze that rolls over the yard. Steve shivers lightly.

It feels strange, for the world to continue on as though there weren’t literal monsters running around their small town just days ago. Steve swallows a grimace and turns away from the pool, he’s close enough to the sliding door that he can keep an ear out for trouble both in and outside his parents house. Last thing he needs is another broken vase or hole in the drywall to explain away to his father. 

It’s been a few days since the incident with Billy, since the night of the Demodogs, a few days since Nancy called him Bullshit, their relationship Bullshit. She’s right, about him. He had thought they were good though, good together - he was trying so hard. Steve brings a red plastic cup to his lips and grimaces when the alcohol burns at the still healing split lip, it's more than he normally drinks, but hey what are parties for? 

‘So perhaps I should leave here

Yeah, yeah, and go far away’

The sound of a body hitting the side of the house and scuffling footsteps in the gravel catch Steve’s attention, along with a few other people in the tub and lounging on the patio furniture, their heads turn towards the darkened corner between the house and the fence before turning away once more. The laughter and conversation continue on unimpeded. 

Steve sighs, his breath billowing away from him, he begins to move towards the source of the commotion. Breaking up a fight was not something he had been looking forward to, especially with the injuries he was currently sporting, but Steve wasn’t about to just let some other kid get their ass handed to them in his own backyard, not if he could help it. 

‘But you know that there's nowhere that I'd rather be than with you here today

Oh, whoa, oh, whoa’

Steve opens his mouth to yell at whoever is behind the house but the words die in his throat. 

He halts abruptly at what he sees, Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. 

Eddie Munson, bracketing another man between his arms against the glittery stucco of Steve’s parents house. The sounds of kissing, sloppy and wet, muffled moans disappearing beneath lips and teeth. A pair of hands disappear into Eddie’s curly locks as Eddie steps further into the other man. 

‘Hold me now, whoa

Warm my heart

Stay with me’

Steve steps back, his foot crunches into gravel and dead leaves, startling the pair apart. Steve opens his mouth again but nothing, his throat feels tight and his face grows warm as he looks from one man to the other, no one moves for a moment.

Eddie Munson stares at Steve, with puffy lips, flushed cheeks, and wild hair draped over his shoulders. Eddie Munson, who looks as though he wants to hightail it out of there but not before punching Steve’s lights out. 

The other man, Steve recognizes from school, James, he was a year younger than them but had also been on the swim team with Steve. He was a nice kid from what Steve knew, quiet, but smiley. Perfect white teeth and dimples he’d flash at every swim meet. He was good looking in a casual way, effortless. 

Like James didn’t have to try the way Steve did, the way Steve fixed his hair each morning for an hour straight, the way he chose his clothes - picking from fitted polos and jeans that hugged his ass in the way he knew looked good. James was popular and well liked, people just seemed to gravitate towards him. 

And Steve? 

Steve, whose girlfriend said he was Bullshit, whose former friends had abandoned him the moment he called them out on the cruel things they had done, that he had done, who had been dethroned by Billy Hargrove. 

Steve, who had noticed that girls were also pretty in an effortless way, the same effortless way that James was. 

Steve, who pushed down these thoughts any time they bubbled up to the surface.

James flushes red and tears away from Eddie, he stalks away from the two of them without a backwards glance and disappears into the house. 

Steve, turns back towards Munson and is quickly slammed into the side of the house that James had been tucked against mere moments before, an arm catches him across the throat.

“What are you doing here Harrington?” Eddie snarls in his face, “come to make fun of the freak?”

Steve shakes his head, “No-no, I just thought I heard a fight,” he stammers 

Eddie’s eyes trail over his face, his grin sharpens, “Thought that would be a good idea didja? Cuz King Steve does so well in fights?”

Steve flushes, painfully aware of the cuts littering his face from where Billy had recently smashed him over the head with a plate, “yeah well, I don’t appreciate one happening in my house”.

Eddie barks out a low laugh, “Apologies, my liege, I didn’t realise King Steve was such a champion for the little people.” The laugh is light but there’s a fire in Eddie’s dark eyes as he steps closer and looms over Steve, his arm pressing further into Steve’s throat making it difficult to breathe. 

“If you tell anyone about this, it won’t be a fight you’ll win. I’ll kill you”.

Then Eddie is gone, ripping away from him and moving towards the open back gate, he looks back at Steve once before running out of sight. 

Steve breathes deeply, clutching at his throat, his airway no longer impeded. He takes one, two, three deep breaths each harder than the last as his vision swims with tears. 

Why is he even crying, he lifts a shaking hand and scrubs his face roughly. Because popular, beautiful James, better than Steve could ever be, also liked men? 

Steve falls against the house and slides down the rough stucco, his thoughts racing and tumbling after one another. Thoughts that had remained buried for so long, locked into the farthest corners of his mind.

‘Hold me now, whoa

Warm my heart

Stay with me

Let loving start

Let loving start, whoa’

And Eddie, Eddie who thought Steve had been there to humiliate them, to raise the alarm.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Steve knows how he used to be, how Tommy and Carol still are, what kind of town Hawkins is. How casually those words could be tossed around, how easy it had been for him to call Jonathan a ‘queer’ and pick a fight last year.

Steve shuts his eyes and lets his head fall against the wall, the sharp slide of stucco grounding as it pinches and scratches his scalp.

He sits outside, alone in the dark, and watches as the sun eventually begins to peek over the horizon. Until his breathing evens out.

***

“This is Steve, he’s not going to hurt you, right Steve”

“Right,” Steve whispers, not chancing a nod with the unrelenting pressure of the broken bottle at his throat, “yup, yup…”

Eddie scoffs, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face, “Yeah, we’ve met, Henderson”. 

“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Dustin says, the even tone betrayed by the volume and speed with which he speaks. Steve swallows again, his heart races against his ribcage. Drop the oar? The only thing he has to defend himself, not that he really stands a chance at this point. Steve looks towards Dustin again and catches the way the kids eyes are shining in the low light. 

He’s terrified. 

Steve breathes in slowly, Dustin has seen him battered and bruised, drugged, and concussed on two separate occasions; he really doesn’t want a third. 

Steve breathes out and drops the oar, the sharp slap of wood against wood seems to startle everyone, including Eddie who presses even further into Steve with his body and the bottle. Steve flinches and cries out as the glass manages to dig sharply into the delicate skin across his windpipe. Dustin, Robin, and Max all cry out in alarm.

Dustin’s voice carries out across the boathouse, “He’s cool, he’s cool!”

“I’m cool man, I’m cool,” Steve echoes staring at Eddie, he can feel tears gathering at his lashline from the pain and terror, “I’m cool,” the last syllable comes out as a whine.

“What are you doing here,” Eddie murmurs, his eyes locked on Steve’s own, his face blank betraying nothing, he’s still pressing into Steve just as he had years ago on that cold November night. 

“We were looking for you,” Dustin yells, his voice cracks, he sounds so young. 

Robin moves closer to him, her hands come up to grasp Dustin’s shoulders as she steers him away and eventually behind her, Max follows letting Robin lead.

“We’re here to help,” Robin says, her voice wavers just slightly.

“Eddie,” Dustin croaks, “they’re my friends, you know Robin --from band!”

Robin noodles a nervous tune into an imaginary trumpet, her hands shake and her eyes dart across Eddie’s face. 

Dustin then pivots to Max, grasping her by the shoulders, “and this is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D”. 

Max raises her arm, gesturing towards herself in a parody of a wave.

“Eddie,” Dustin says softly, pleadingly, “we’re on your side, I swear on my mother, right guys?”

A chorus of yes's explode beside Dustin while Steve mumbles out a hurried, “Yep, on Dustin's mother”.

Eddie's impassive face twitches, Steve’s eyes flutter as the grip on his shirt collar loosens slightly but the press of the bottle remains constant, he thinks back to that threat, that Eddie would kill him without a thought.

“I never said anything, I promise you, I promise,” Steve whispers softly; he can see Dustin in his peripheral, craning his neck to try and listen in, “I promise, please…”

Eddie twitches again, his chin wobbles slightly as he releases Steve and steps back, dropping the bottle which bounces once and rolls into the darkness. 

Steve lets out a long slow breath as he doubles over, one hand comes up to his throat while the other lands on his knee to stop from collapsing altogether. Robin rushes to Steve’s side, her hands move towards him but not before halting with a jerk. 

“Steve, Steve can I touch you?” she whispers softly. 

Steve raises his face to see her, to catch her worried gaze and meet it with his own glazed stare, he nods once. 

“I need to talk to you,” he manages, the words almost catch in his throat. He vaguely registers Dustin speaking to Eddie in low tones, Max hovers beside them worriedly looking between Steve and Dustin.

“What?” Robin laughs out, nervous and stuttering, she reaches out and wraps an arm around his shoulder while her other hand clasps around the hand braced on his knee, “I think maybe we have a few more important things that we need to discuss at the moment”.

“Robin…please,” he grates out, the words are soft but something about the way he shudders seems to help her come to a decision.  

She nods, and helps him stand fully, her arm travels down from his shoulders to his waist, Steve leans into her warmth and breathes in the soft scent of lavender Robin always wears. It's comforting. 

“I’m just going to take Steve to the house, get cleaned up yeah,” Robin calls out brusquely before turning on her heel and leading them to the door. Dustin yells something behind them and moves to leave the boathouse but Max catches him by the arm.

Steve’s stomach churns at the thought of leaving two of his sprogs with an alleged murderer, a drug dealer who literally threatened Steve with death twice now, but Robin’s purposeful steps carry him forward, his body operating on autopilot.

Once inside Reefer Rick’s decrepit house, Robin deposits him on the nearest chair in the kitchen. 

“Okay? Spill dingus”.

Steve sighs, “Robin…do you remember when we escaped the Russians?” she nods sharply, face twists into a confused scowl, “and you told me about Tammy Thompson”.

Robin lifts her hands and swings them out, gesturing for him to continue, “so, what, you gonna confess your undying love for me again Harrington?” Robin grumbles at him, her blue eyes trace over his face as though scanning him for additional information.

“I…I never told you, I’ve never told anyone this,” his thoughts drift back to that cool November evening with music and laughter. 

“Robin, how did you know that…you liked girls?”

She’s silent for a moment, her mouth opening and closing before taking a deep breath and letting it out through her nose, “Steve, are you trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, folding his face into his hands, “I-I do like girls, I dated Nancy for almost a year for crying out loud, but…”

“But,” Robin prompts softly

Steve is silent for a moment, before dropping one hand from his face to his knee, the other hand slides into his hair and grips the strands tightly in a painful white-knuckle grip, “but, I do…I mean, I notice things about other guys”. 

Robin nods. She isn’t laughing, she isn’t sneering at him, he’s safe. 

“Steve,” she says slowly after a beat, carefully, “You do know that, it's okay to like both?”

He stares at her, all at once it's as though the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

“Steve, it's okay, I think you need to breathe, come on breathe, Steve!” she shakes his shoulder a little as he gasps, gulping down breaths like a drowning man. 

“I’m okay,” he laughs out eventually, his voice slightly wet, if Robin notices she doesn’t say anything. 

Steve breathes in deeply and raises his eyes to her own, they’re shining in the low light of Reefer Ricks shitty kitchen, “do you still…”

She flings out a hand to catch him in the shoulder, “of course I still love you, you’re my platonic soul-mate, how could you even think that? Plus it would be pretty hypocritical”.

Steve laughs, “Didn’t even let me finish Buckley,” he stands up from the chair which creaks and groans at the movement. Stepping towards her, he draws Robin into his arms, the barest of smiles crawls over Steve’s face as her own arms come around him tightly, “maybe I was going to say, do you still think I suck?”

Robin snorts, and pinches his side harshly earning a surprised yelp from Steve, “Oh you definitely do, but not for this”. She steps away after one last squeeze and a final jab to his armpit that startles a squawk from him, he half-heartedly bats at her hands with a laugh.

“I’m glad you told me but, what brought this on?” 

The small smile on Steve’s face slips as his gaze lowers to his muddy shoes, he’ll have to hose them off before he gets home, the murmured threat loops around his head on repeat in Eddie’s gravelly voice. 

“Nothing, I just,” he looks up and meets her eyes, “if anything happens to me, I don’t think I could stand knowing I hadn’t told someone, and I’m glad it was you” 

“You sappy asshole,” Robin whispers as she launches herself towards him once more, he catches her easily, “you picked a hell of a time, but I’m proud of you”. 

Steve holds her tightly, letting himself bask in her warmth for just a moment. Though there were times where he wished they could have been more, Steve is thankful to have her in his life in whatever capacity she is comfortable with. 

In his opinion, the title of ‘Platonic Soulmate’ is more than he deserves, but he’ll take it and be grateful for it.

Three successive knocks rail against the door of the kitchen they have sequestered themselves in, Dustin’s muffled voice permeates through the thin glass window, “hey Lovebirds, are you done in there? Move your asses!” 

“Language” Steve shouts at the same time Robin screams, “Fuck off!”

***

It’s all downhill from there as they manage to pass through into the Upside Down. How quickly things deteriorate sets a new record in Steve’s opinion, he’s missing a significant amount of flesh and blood, he’s tired, sore, and dirty. This Upside Down bullshit is becoming a yearly occurrence and he still never feels prepared for it, for the violence and danger that Hawkins has become stepped in. 

The wounds on Steve’s sides throb in time with his pulse now, aggravated from so much movement, he feels hot despite the absence of warmth in this place. The bandages have helped with the sharp sting but not the dull ache inside his torso, he didn’t see how deep the bats had managed to burrow their way into his skin, he's not sure he wants to.

The red lightning flashes don’t seem to permeate the woods they’re travelling through, he can barely make out Nancy, Robin, and Eddie as they make their way through the trees in the grey twilight. 

Steve clears his throat and jogs closer towards Eddie, “hey man, uh, listen, I just uh, I just want to say thanks”. 

Eddie pauses his stride and stares at him.

“For,” Steve stutters, “saving my ass back there, you know,” he shifts on his feet suddenly wishing that vine would come back to claim him before he could say anything else. 

“Shit,” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head, “you saved your own ass man, I mean that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there”.

“Ozzy?”

Eddie’s head tilts to the side, expression incredulous, “you know, when you took a bite out of that bat…Ozzy Osborn? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off on stage”.

Steve grimaces, the taste of blood and viscera still clings to his mouth, his tongue, “I don’t--”

“You know?”

“No,” Steve looks away into the trees, he’s not sure who this Ozzy person is, Steve hates not knowing things. 

Eddie scowls, but waves his hand down, “doesn’t matter, it was very,” he pauses and sweeps in front of Steve’s line of sight, “metal what you did, s’all I’m saying”.

“Thanks…” Steve says, trying to ignore the pleased grin Eddie shoots him, complete with dimples. Steve feels his face grow warm as he scans the treeline with his flashlight. 

Remember, he thinks to himself, this man hates you, has threatened you twice now. What do you care if he likes you? The voice sounds eerily like Robin, logical and irritated, he shakes his head slightly as though to dislodge it.

It’s quiet, the only sound is the rustling of dead leaves under their feet. The absence of crickets and cicadas, of owls, or even rodents in the brush is unsettling, the absence of life in the dark.

“Henderson told me you were a badass,” Eddie startles him, reaching out to prod Steve’s bicep with a rigid pointer finger, “insisted on the matter in fact”. 

“Henderson said that?” Steve whispers, surprise colouring his words. The light flush over his cheeks and ears spreads even further, though it's nearly impossible to distinguish in the lowlight.  Steve tamps down the urge to smile at that, biting down on the inside of his cheek, he can feel eyes on him as he steps over a particularly large fallen log and nearly trips on a hidden root. His arms flail out with the effort to remain upright, some badass he curses himself. 

A hand falls on the small of his back, steadies him. Eddie is close, very close all of a sudden, leaning over him. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie huffs,“that kid worships you dude, like you have no idea, it's kind of annoying to be honest.”

Steve barks out a laugh, wincing at the echo that reverberates around them. Something snaps and skitters in the rotten undergrowth, Steve whirls around with the flashlight towards the source of the noise. 

Eddie stands frozen beside him, neither move for what feels like an eternity. The movement is gone, but the thundering of Steve’s heart against his ribcage beats a striking staccato, he can scarcely hear himself breathe.

“I-I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but uh I guess I got a little jealous, man. I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude.”

Eddie continues on, “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him, not a douche? No way man, no way, that like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe…and my own personal Munson doctrine”

Steve glares into the darkness beyond the trees, of course Eddie would think that, it wasn’t as though he had done anything to disprove it back in his highschool days - the persona had been heavily encouraged in fact by himself and his friends. 

“I mean, I was definitely surprised after that party I crashed many moons ago, that come morning the whole town didn’t know about my little…indiscretion”.

Steve stops, nearly flinging himself back and away from Eddie, “I swear, I never told anyone, I swear--”

“Harrington, calm down, I know, that's what I’m saying,” Eddie says slowly, his voice lowered as he looks ahead towards Nancy and Robin. 

“I wouldn’t,” Steve swallows, resists the urge to breathe the toxic air too deeply, “I wouldn’t do that”.

Eddie raises an eyebrow as the corner of his lip turns up revealing the hint of canines, “Well, colour me surprised at any rate,” he turns and starts walking again, “I figured you just forgot or something,”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten something like that,” Steve mutters before he his brain seems to catch up to his mouth, “I-I mean, I just,”

“Re-lax Harrington, what is with you?”

“I…,” Steve’s legs are frozen, as though he’s been glued to the forest floor, as though the vines have crept over him once again to keep him there forever, “I want you to know, I wouldn’t just do that”.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, cutting creases across his forehead in deep grooves underneath his curly mop.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell and,” Steve swallows thickly, his throat dry, “I’m not that kind of guy anymore…”

Eddie stares at him, his face shifts back into that passive neutral gaze that Steve is beginning to dread. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says after a moment, “I think I’m getting that.” He stands for a moment longer, his eyes roaming Steve’s face in the same way Robin’s does when she’s trying to analyse him. It’s decidedly more stressful coming from Eddie.

“Come on,” Eddie murmurs, clapping Steve’s shoulder, “we need to catch up”. He gestures to Robin and Nancy who have stopped just ahead of them, Nancy has her hands on her hips - the picture of impatience. Eddie grins at him before slowly jogging towards the girls, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

Steve catches Robin’s eyes, her head is cocked to the side, staring at the pair of them as Eddie comes closer and closer towards herself and Nancy, her expression is wary but curious. 

Steve sighs and shakes his head, imploring her to understand, ‘I’ll tell you later’.

By some miracle she does, answering him with a shake of her own that says, ‘You better dingus’.

***

It’s over. Vecna is finally dead.

Steve curls an arm around Robin’s shoulders as they stumble out of the Creel house with Nancy in tow. They stand around the burning corpse that had once been Henry Creel, white cinders spit and cascade into the dirt at their feet; after everything they’ve gone through, it feels like they can finally breathe again. 

Steve watches as Nancy steps past the body leaving him and Robin beside the dying embers, squinting through the black smoke that emanates in a putrid cloud.

“Steve! Robin, come on, we have a plan!” Nancy barks sharply over her shoulder, she continues walking with sure strides away from the nightmare behind them. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “Does she ever chill?”

A nervous laugh tumbles out of Steve’s mouth before he can stop it, laughter felt almost wrong in this place, even now, “You don’t know Nancy Wheeler,” he says softly with a shake of his head. He tightens his grip on Robin’s shoulders and pulls her away from the corpse on the ground. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Robin scoffs, “who’d’ve thought Miss Nancy Drew would turn out to be John Rambo in disguise”.

A small lopsided grin spreads over Steve’s face as they make their way from the house and down the road where Nancy has stopped just ahead, but Robin suddenly freezes and tugs at his shoulder. 

“Steve is that…”

He stops, there is crying coming from just ahead of them, the sound reverberates down the empty street.

“Steve!? Robin!”

Nancy’s voice cuts through the air, an urgency he hasn’t heard since the day Steve found her and Jonathan with bloody palms and a pistol in the Buyers old house, gooseflesh breaks out over his arms at the sound. 

Steve steps towards Nancy, the sound of crying grows louder, clearer, he knows that voice…

He runs now, cursing the flimsy Nikes he’d worn a thousand times, the splitting soles never a problem before, nearly causing him to tumble into the cracked pavement. He can hear Robin take off, hot on his heels behind him.

It’s Dustin. Dustin screaming Eddie’s name. 

Steve skids to a sudden halt at the scene in front of them, his throat constricts at the sight of Dustin cradling Eddie’s head in his lap, the other’s large brown eyes are open but unfocused, the lids at half mast. His face is smeared with blood. 

Steve vaguely registers Nancy speaking, something about no pulse, a question about how long he’s been like this. Everything is muffled, its as though he’s underwater again, being pulled down by a twisted vine into Hell a second time. 

There’s so much blood, it clings to the air around them making Steve’s stomach roll and twist.

“Steve,” Nancy says fiercely, her voice cracked and scraped with stress, “Steve are you listening?”

Steve nods and steels himself, brusquely pushing past Nancy and Robin. 

He knew what to do.

He'd learned CPR during his Lifeguard days, it had been mandatory - and a no brainer the summer of 82, especially when a simple two day course allowed him the luxury of lounging around in the sun, rising with the social tide around him in his ‘King-Steve’ hey-day.

He shakes his head abruptly to toss the memory aside, focus dip-shit, his inner Robin snarls. 

“Dustin, give him here,” Steve says, voice smooth and cool, belying the nervous tremor that runs through his hands as he kneels beside his young friend. 

“No, what, what are you going to do?” Dustin whimpers as tears run freely down his cheeks, he clutches Eddie’s shoulders and face, twisting away from Steve with a wild look in his blue eyes.

Steve raises his hands, palms up, and leans back, allowing him space, “Dustin,” he repeats firmly, “I can help, but I need you to trust me, can you do that ? There isn’t a lot of time.”

Robin, seeming to understand, steps forward as well and kneels down to Dustin’s eye level, “I’ll help get him on the ground, Dustin just give him to us,” she reaches for Eddie’s bloody shoulder, only for the body to jerk away from her fingertips. 

“No!” Dustin shouts, the sound spills wetly from his lips as he bites back another sob, “no, I c-can’t,”

Steve opens his mouth to say something, his patience nearly at its end when Nancy suddenly stands to her full height, which isn’t admittedly much, and squares her shoulders. She steps into Dustin’s space, shushing him as she pulls Dustin’s arms away from Eddie’s still form, allowing for Robin and Steve to manoeuvre Eddie to the ground. 

Dustin’s yelling and cursing melts into the background as Steve hunches just above Eddie's face and places a hand on his chest before moving his hand to the pulse point on his bloody neck.

Not breathing and no pulse, okay…okay…he knew this, he could do this. 

Steve sits back up on his knees and places both hands on Eddie's chest, one on top of the other. He laces his fingers together and begins to press sharply down, keeping his arms steady and his hands directly below his shoulders. 

Steve begins counting, just under his breath, out of the corner of his eye he see’s Robin lift her watch to her eye-line. Good, someone should be keeping time --not that anyone was on their way to help them at this point…

Thirty compressions fly by, he quickly pinches Eddie’s nose and holds his chin still before bending down to press his chapped lips to Eddies. He blows two steady breaths into the other man's mouth before sitting up and continuing the process over once again.

“How long?” Robin asks faintly beside him, her eyes flick between her watch and Eddie’s face.

“Two minutes,” he breathes out in between counts. 

Dustin has stopped crying, allowing for Nancy to steer him to the side to let Steve work. 

Dustin limps as they move as a unit, unable to put his full weight on his left leg. Sporadic sniffling cuts through the sounds of Steve’s counting and the rhythmic pace of his compressions.

A thin bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he bends down to breath for Eddie, “Come on, come on Munson,” Steve whispers. 

He loses track of his breaths; has it been 10 sets? 13?

He feels lightheaded, his arms ache, but he has to keep going.

Robin shifts beside him, “Steve, Steve, come on, you’re going to make yourself pass out--”

“No,” Steve hisses sharply as he sits up once more, “not another one, I swear to God Munson if you die on me I’m going to kill you myself!”

Something cracks below him, Steve flinches at the sound of shifting bone, oh god, oh god, his class had been warned that this could happen, the pressure and the depth of the compressions could cause ribs to break. 

“Steve?! What the fuck?!” Robin screeches as Dustin shoots to his feet at the sound and immediately crumples with a pained yelp. Nancy swoops an arm behind the younger boy, catching him before he can fully hit the ground. Dustin tries to limp towards Steve and Eddie, the curses and yelling renew themselves with interest, but Nancy’s arms hold firm around him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, horrified, “Fuck, I--”

A small groan startles the four of them into silence. Eddie groans again while his eyes flutter slightly. 

“Oh thank Christ,” Steve says, his arms burn from the exertion, his muscles twitch from phantom motion, but that does nothing to stop him from swiftly gathering Eddie into his arms and standing. The twin wounds on his sides throb in time with his heartbeat underneath his bandages, everything feels warm and wet underneath his gear, but he can’t tell if it's sweat or if he’s bleeding again.

 “This isn’t ideal, but we need to keep him stable and get him to a hospital,” Steve manages through a groan, he shifts Eddie in his arms to adjust the weight briefly, “Nance, lead the way.”

Nancy nods and turns away before heading down the road towards the open gate waiting for them. Dustin takes the opportunity to break free from her grasp and hobbles towards Steve, fresh tear tracks cut paths through the dirt smeared over his cheeks. 

Robin steps in front of him with her arms out, “Woah boy, steady, let’s just get to the gate. Gate then hospital, doofus,” she says with uncharacteristic softness. 

Dustin shakes his head wildly and attempts to step around her, but Robin holds her ground and catches his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.

“Now, Dustin, move it or lose it,” she growls, gently spinning him around and forcing him to follow Nancy as she loops a steady arm around his back to keep him steady. Dustin’s expression is mutinous but he says nothing; fatigue begins to win its battle with the adrenaline coursing through their collective veins. 

Robin looks back at Steve, eyebrows pinched together as she scans his face. 

He nods through the silent conversation.

“Later, Rob,”

“I’ll hold you to that Asshole.”

They don’t talk later.

(Will be posting this in parts, let me know if you enjoyed chapter one!)

Part Two Up Now!

Part Three Up Now!

[florallylly]

back to stobin thoughts like why are they so wise for each other in fics sometimes. like 9/10 times they're giving each other good advice. in reality i feel like it's more of a hit or miss (mostly miss) 3/10 times they give each other good advice. i think they'd typically hype each other up for the worst possible choices (dump them/quit your job/confront that coworker), but rarely actually follow through. like they're complaining. they're brainstorming. but anything concrete? absolutely not.

[mugloversonly]

Silver over Gold

Ch 3: Kintsugi - Final

Ch.1 Ch.2 AO3

Summary:

Steve and Eddie finally talk.

Steve stood outside Eddie’s door horrified by what he heard on the other side. Eddie was sobbing and his inner omega was whining weakly. “Eddie? Baby can I come in?” He pleaded.

“Alpha?” Eddie cried softly. “Door’s locked.” His voice was fading into a whisper. “I’m sorry alpha.”

Steve didn’t think twice about ripping the door of the hinges; he'd fix it later, he just hoped Wayne would understand. His omega needed him and his alpha would stop at nothing to help him (for once he was in total agreement). The smashing of the door echoed through the whole trailer but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. He was curled up on his side in the corner of the room with his head tucked against his knees, shaking violently. Steve rushed over to him and gently swept his hair out of his face. He gasped when he saw his beautiful omega. “Oh, Eddie.” He whispered. He was paler than usual, practically translucent. His lively chocolate eyes were red rimmed and puffy, empty as they stared up at him. Steve wasn’t even sure if Eddie could see him right now.

“I’m sorry alpha.” Eddie whispered. Steve stared at him hoping for some awareness in his eyes but there still wasn’t anything. He must be speaking unconsciously.

“Sh,” Steve cooed. “I’m right here, omega. Your alpha is right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms and kissed him on the forehead. His skin was freezing to the touch and if Steve didn’t know better he’d think he just came out of Lover’s Lake.

He took him into his arms, laid them back in Eddie’s nest, and removed their shirts for skin contact, pulling the blanket over them for good measure . Steve made sure to hold the omega’s nose directly onto his scent gland. He didn’t know much about rejection sickness, but from what he learned in school one way to cure it was through comforting touch and scents. Eddie barely moved and didn’t acknowledge Steve at all. Steve was having a hard time staying calm but the whines and howling of his omega were helping him to stay focused.

H is shivering finally subsided and Eddie fell into a light haze. He pulled back from Steve and his eyes were a bit clearer. “Stevie?” He asked. At Steve’s nod he threw himself back. He didn’t deserve to be held like this. He was a bad omega. His alpha didn’t love him and it was all his fault. Steve didn’t let him get far before he was yanking him right back in. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and nuzzled his neck. “I’m sorry Steve. I should’ ve trusted you . I'm a bad omega.” He sobbed but Steve clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You're not a bad omega Eddie. You're my omega.” Steve said. He felt more than heard Eddie’s gasp and watched as his wet eyes widened. He reached up and pulled Steve’s hand off his mouth.

“I’m still your omega?” He whispered hopeful yet terrified.

“Yes, darling.” Steve replied caressing his cheek. Eddie put his hand over Steve’s and held it there.

“You still want to be my alpha? After everything I put you through?” Steve looked deep into Eddie’s eyes and kissed him on the nose.

“You didn’t put me through anything. I will always be your alpha. Even if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me, I will be here waiting. There is nothing you could do that would drive me away. I will never leave you.” He promised. “Let me apologize now.”

“No, Steve you don’t owe me anything.” Eddie said clutching his shirt. “I was the one in the wrong.”

“No you weren’t. I was scared. I didn’t stop to consider that I was stringing you along.” He bowed his head as tears finally spilled over. “I love you, Eddie. I never want you to doubt that. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I’m sorry the first time I said it was in an argument.” He grabbed Eddie’s face and tilted it until their lips were barely a millimeter apart. “I would never lie to you. I know why you would think that. Wayne told me. Just know, that the most important person in my life, is right here in my arms. Okay?”

“Except Robin?” He knew it was shitty, but he needed to know.

“No my lovely omega. Even more important than Robin.” He kissed him then. A quick press of lips, there and gone in mere moments. “Robin is my best friend and I won’t stop loving her or change how she and I are with each other. But you’re my future mate, and nothing is more important than you feeling secure in us.” Eddie surged forward and kissed him hard practically shoving his tongue down his throat.

“I don’t want you to stop being friends with Robin or anything like that, Stevie. It’s just…” Eddie knew he had to let Steve hear some of this from him. “The pups constantly tell me how you two were made for each other and how it’s only a matter of time for you two to mate.” Eddie looked down. “I guess, with you wanting to keep it a secret and when I ask about courting you brush it off, mix that with Dustin asking me to find out if you’re secretly dating Robin and I thought it was only a matter of time before you stopped what we had and went with her. And when I saw you two together, I thought it finally happened and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me first.” His voice broke on that last word.

“Wait a second...the pups have been saying what?!” Steve yelled out startling the omega and causing him to whimper. “Sorry.” He took a few calming breaths before asking again. “The pups have been telling you that Robin and I are secretly together?”

“Basically.” Eddie admitted.

“No wonder you didn’t believe me.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t worry my love I’ll set the record straight as soon as I can.” He snuggled Eddie closer and kissed his hair.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with Steve. Not for my sake.” He understood that it may be hard for Steve since he had only dated female omegas before. But his alpha just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll put an ad in the newspaper try me.” He laughed. “It’ll say something like: I, Steven Anthony Harrington am courting and plan to mate with the beautiful” he leaned over and nuzzled against Eddie’s scent gland causing the omega to giggle. “Wonderful, remarkable, one of a kind, Edward Wayne Munson.” He nipped lightly at his neck. “I will don’t tempt me.”

Light finally returned to Eddie’s eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered. Steve knew he was thanking him for much more but Steve didn’t want him to feel grateful that Steve treated him like a worthy partner.

“No thanks necessary. I’m not going to hide any more okay? In fact, close your eyes.” he said. When Eddie did so, he reached into his pocket to pull something out that he fastened around Eddie’s pale throat and kissed him softly. “Open.”

Eddie opened his eyes and gasped. It was the most unique courting gift he’d ever received. Pure silver because he mentioned to Steve once that it was his favorite precious metal. The pendant was a perfect copy of his warlock with small rubies creating the red lightening. As he took a closer look, he realized the neck of the guitar was actually Steve’s nail bat. It was the perfect combination of them.

His chest no longer felt tight and his nose tickled as his blood orange scent began pouring out of his scent gland. It was faint, but it was there. Steve beamed and pushed his nose to the source and took a big inhale. “Thank you, Alpha. I accept your request to court.” Eddie said in the traditional manner. He pulled away. “I’ll give you something I scented in return once it gets back to normal.” Eddie promised. Steve nodded and pulled him into another kiss. This one was more heated and while Eddie did feel better and the sickness was receding, he wasn’t ready to go very far. He leaned back slightly but stayed close so the alpha knew he was okay. “Is it alright, if we take it slow?” He couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Whatever you need.” Steve said tilting his head up. “What ever you want. It’s yours.” He said more like an oath than a promise.

“I threw away your yellow sweater. I’m sorry. I know it was your favorite.” He admitted ashamed. Steve slid away and for a second Eddie thought he was leaving, but before he could let out a single noise of protest he was getting hit in the face with soft cotton. In his hands was the best thing he'd ever seen.

“Wayne said he saw you throw it away and figured you were just upset.” Eddie smiled.

“He knows me so well.”

“I’d hope so, he is your dad and all.” Steve said. “Speaking of, I’d like to formally ask him to court you. I know you already said yes, but it’s traditional to ask an omega’s parent.” Eddie beamed.

“You really do love me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I love you so much. I want to court you and mate with you. I want to see you round with my pups.” Steve replied and laid down pulling Eddie with him. “I want us to smell like one another so there’s no mistaking who we belong to.”

“How long have you had this necklace by the way?” Eddie asked the pendant clutched in his hand.

“Since right after spring break.” He admitted. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he sheepishly said “I told you, I’ve wanted to court you for a long time.”

The two talked a bit more about their insecurities and about Eddie’s past trauma with alphas. When the alpha that hurt him came up again, Steve growled. “Give me a name.” The fire in his eyes would have scared Eddie if it was directed at him. But at the moment, it may have made him a bit slick. He’d never had an alpha want to protect him like this.

“If I tell you, can you promise you won’t do anything crazy?” Eddie asked.

“No.” Steve said. “I promised no lies.” He defended at Eddie’s snort.

“You did, you did. Okay, just promise you’ll be careful.” Steve agreed to that and motioned for Eddie to continue. “It was Tommy Hagan my first senior year.” He admitted. The scent of burning woods filled the his nostrils.

“When?” Steve growled. Had he still been friends with Tommy?

“We started courting in August. The heat we spent together was in November.”

“You were the omega he couldn’t shut up about?” Steve asked. Eddie shrugged.

“I guess. Weird that he couldn’t shut up about me when he cheated on me with Carol.” Eddie said meekly. The faint blood orange Eddie was finally emitting was turning sour and he was trying to pump out calming omega pheromones to calm Steve, but it didn’t seem to be working well due to the dull nature of it.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve said as he willed himself to calm down. “It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled Eddie to his feet.

“What is important is getting you checked out by a doctor. Let’s let Wayne know and we can go okay?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded and the two got dressed with some difficulty since they refused to let go of each other. Steve wore his yellow sweater so it would smell like him again and Eddie pulled on his favorite band tee. On their way out of the trailer they wrote a note for Wayne and Steve walked Eddie to the passenger side. He opened the door and kept a firm hand in Eddie’s until he was seated. Eddie watched on amused as Steve practically sprinted around the car so they could spend the least amount apart as possible.

~ ~~

At the hospital, the Doctor that saw him last time was able to see him again. “Eddie, this one could have killed you if your alpha hadn’t come when he did. To help you get back on your feet it’ll be good for the two of you to spend the next 48 to 72 hours together. Now for cases like yours we have a new type of medication that can stop rejection sickness from getting worse once it starts. I’m giving you a prescription for that. And I want you to go back to taking the preventive ones for a while.” He looked between the two men knowingly. “I’d say until you’ve mated. After that, you should be okay to stop them. But, keep the emergency one on you at all times. It could be the difference between life and death.” He said before leaving them with a nurse. She gave Eddie some fluids in an IV that were supposed to help him return to normal and then they were on their way.

“So, what now?” Eddie asked. Steve took his hand again.

“Let me take you out on the town? Then we can go back to the trailer and cuddle?” He asked. Eddie blushed and his blood orange scent finally filled the car in full force.

"I'd like that."

@v3lv3tf0x @lexirosewrites Final part!

That's a wrap on this one. But I do have plans to write some Robin POV and what Steve does the next time he sees Tommy.

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

modern stobin sends each other clips of trobed and regardless of what trobed are doing in the clip, they always caption it 'uscore'