#THAT SONG IS THEM!!!!!!!! ESPECIALLY EDDIE POV

[eddiesgay]

shaking crying and throwing up because ‘home’ (one direction) just came on shuffle and now i can’t stop thinking about a buddie edit to this song. Need it

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics.

No Loose Ends

Week #3 Prompt: Sneaking Around | Word Count: 6500 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

Song inspiration to fill the @steddiesongfics prompt is FLORIDA!!! by Taylor Swift feat. Florence & The Machine:

Little did you know, Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested, So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas Indiana

Steve's almost eight hours into the twelve hour drive, when he starts looking for another gas station. The smaller the better. One with a cashier who would rather be anywhere else other than at work behind the counter, and who in turn, won't be paying any attention to anything going on around them.

Not that he's wanted, or being looked for, because he's not. He's just being extra careful. Trying to garner no additional eyes on his car, or himself, if possible. No speeding, no rolling through stop signs. He's never driven this carefully in his entire life, and he feels tense from it.

It gives him a glimpse of what it might be like, sometime in the future, if he's in charge of hauling around six of his own little nuggets.

But that's not today. Today he's just in charge of one, well two, other people.

And himself. But he's used to being in charge of himself, since he has been, since basically forever.

If everything goes smoothly tonight, nobody's even gonna realize he's been out of town. Only Robin knows, and she's running interference with everybody else. Giving excuses for why they haven't seen him all day. Just buying him the time to get down, and back, without being missed.

The next filling station is a little raggedy, but exactly what he wants. Probably no cameras. Perfect.

He parks alongside the pump, and pulls up on the handle, starting to fill his tank. He looks in the backseat, and the bundled up figure moves under the blanket, shifting. It's dark under the poorly-lit canopy, three of the six fluorescent bulbs are out, and it makes it look just a little bit spooky. But even better, unless you were looking for him, you'd never see the slightly moving lump in the backseat.

And nobody's looking for him. Not anymore.

Thank fucking god.

Steve pays for the gas, and grabs drinks. Back in the car, he puts his own Coke in the cup holder, then lays the Mountain Dew in the backseat floorboard for when Eddie wakes up, and finally slides the Dr. Pepper into the passenger side cup holder.

He doesn't know Gareth Jones, not really, and it has taken everything he has to trust him. But Eddie couldn't be left alone, not yet, and Steve had asked who could they trust, and Gareth had been Eddie's answer.

Now he's asleep, head against the window, and Steve pulls back out onto the two-lane road, and keeps heading south.

They pull up in the driveway of the dark house, and Steve kills the engine.

"We're here," he says, and Eddie stirs in the backseat.

Eddie can barely walk. Once they've gotten him out of the car, he can only shuffle along, blanket over his shoulders. Together, they hold him up on both sides. The sand surrounding the beach house is not making it easier for him to move, Steve can tell. Steve has to try three keys before the door swings open, but they get him inside. Steve's not satisfied until Eddie's on the couch of his grandparent's vacation home in Destin, the city they swear is gonna become a tourist hot spot in the coming years.

So, the elder Harringtons scooped up a waterfront home that they only use once or twice a year, swearing it's an investment they'll be able to turn a profit on in the future. Steve doesn't care about that, but he is glad they have it right now, so they have a place Eddie can lay low. 

It's a little musty from being shut-up, but it'll do. 

Especially since there's no chance anybody in his family will turn up, since they're all in Europe right now without him. That left it just sitting empty, the perfect place to stash Eddie long enough to wait out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Nobody knows he survived. Not the public, and barely any of their friends. Not even Wayne. Not yet. It's easier to keep a secret when you don't know the truth, as guilty as that makes Steve feel. 

But right now, he can't dwell on that. Today, Steve's gonna try to get him holed up in here, and then figure out a more permanent solution once Eddie's back on his feet. 

He can't dwell on the rest of them, or his guilt will eat him alive. Knowing Wayne's mourning his nephew. Knowing that Dustin is going through hell. Steve hopes they'll both forgive him, when the truth comes out. Eddie swears Wayne will. Says he'll understand. Says he'll only be relieved that Eddie's safe, and well. 

Steve hopes that's true. 

He knows he'll be in for an ass-chewing from Dustin, but that's nothing new. He can handle that.

Steve gets Eddie situated. A blanket. Some pillows. A drink. All while Gareth looks around the house, snooping, and it sets Steve on edge. He's a kid. Is he really gonna trust a kid to keep Eddie safe? Alive? He supposes he is. It's not like he has any other choice.

Gareth's older than Steve was when he got involved in the Upside Down. But still. Kid.

Steve can't stay long. He takes a nap, and then gets back on the road before he's missed. Back in his bed in Hawkins before anyone has started asking any real questions that Robin can't deflect.

A week later, when Steve steps out of his front door, Pop Tart in his mouth, he nearly chokes when he sees two guys leaning against his car. Jeff and…the other one. Steve's drawing a blank. They're Eddie's friends, but as far as Steve knew, they'd evacuated with the rest of the town. 

Out of the way, not a concern. But, here they are.

People are starting to come back, Steve's noticed, now that the town is rebuilding after the earthquake damage. If they have houses to return to, lots of them are doing just that.

He should have expected this.

Well, not this. Because they shouldn't know Eddie's alive or that Steve might be a person to talk to about anything.

"Uh, hey?" Steve says as he pulls the dry pastry out of his mouth, trying to chew it up, and buy himself some time.

"Where's Gareth?" the one that isn't Jeff asks. 

"Um, Gareth who?" Steve asks.

Jeff laughs, showing a mouth full of braces. 

"Gareth Jones. He's not with his mom, and she thinks he's with you."

Steve tenses. That little shit. Gareth told his mom the truth? What the fuck? For real. That wasn't the plan. At all. 

What a dumbass kid. He can't believe he has to trust him with Eddie's safety. Clearly, he's doing a bang-up job.

Steve looks around, "Don't see him, do you?" Steve asks, sliding back into his King Steve persona easier than he'd imagine he'd be able to after a few years.

"Harrington," Jeff says. 

"He's not with me," Steve says, which is true. "I don't even know him." Also true. 

"If you have Eddie. If he's out there somewhere, you're gonna take us to him," the other one says. Goldie? Steve thinks his name is Goldie. Goldwin, maybe? Gareth was talking, and he's sure he mentioned him, but Gareth talked a lot. Steve zoned out. 

"Or we're going to the cops."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't actually think they'll do that, but fuck, what does he know? He cannot risk that. He'd rather tell them what he knows, than have any officials poking holes in their story.

He makes a decision, one he hopes he won't regret.

"Okay, Goldie, get in," Steve says, resigned to this, but Jeff laughs loudly, mouth open as the guy who is probably not Goldie by his reaction, jabs Jeff in the ribs with his elbow.

"Goodie," Jeff corrects, "but that was closer than most get."

In the car, Steve squeezes the steering wheel. 

"Where is he?" Jeff asks. 

"Florida," Steve answers.

"Florida?" Goodie demands, and Steve just nods.

"He's healing. Gareth's with him. You can't tell anyone," Steve stresses. "If the government finds out. They'll, well. Dispose of him, I reckon. No loose ends."

And Steve starts from the beginning.

They worked out a schedule. Every week they'll switch. And somehow Steve is stuck making the long fucking haul in the dead of night, with one of them in his passenger seat. It's awkward. He doesn't know them, and they definitely don't like him.

This week it's Jeff Williams. Honestly, he's nice enough, but Steve runs out of things to say before they hit the Indiana state line.

The long haul back has Gareth jabbering nonstop about what they did this week. All Steve really wants to hear is updates on Eddie. Is he getting better? Are his wounds healing? Still no infection? Did you help him change the bandages he can't reach? Can he climb the stairs yet?

But he's having trouble getting those answers. He does learn all about the new Accept album, though. Whoever the fuck that is.

The third week is even worse, because hauling around Goodie Goodwin is like having an angry bear locked in the car with him. A brown bear, not a black one. He's fucking pissed, and snarky, and only belligerently agreeing to help for Eddie's sake. Not for Steve's. He's made that abundantly clear. 

He hates Steve, in case Steve needs it spelled out for him. 

Steve does not. 

It's definitely clear.

Super duper clear.

Crystal clear.

And that's fine. Eddie just needs a babysitter, and an angry bear will do, so long as Eddie trusts said bear, and he seems to, for whatever reason.

When they fucking finally pull up, after a twelve hour drive that felt more like twenty-four, Eddie's sitting on the covered porch, the color finally seeping back in his face. Goodie sits down in the glider right next to Eddie, and steals Eddie's lit cigarette right from his mouth. Eddie leans against his shoulder, face pressed into his very weather inappropriate leather jacket, and smiles.

Oh, so now he's a gentle giant. 

Fucking dickhead.

Hauling Jeff back to Hawkins is a breath of fresh air after twelve hours of having Chernabog in the passenger seat. And he actually gives helpful information. Eddie's doing great. He's made some real progress, and he probably doesn't need a babysitter much longer. He's getting out of the woods.

Steve wishes he knew that before he had to spend time in the car with Goodie, but it's still good news, even if Steve had to suffer.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone this week?" Steve asks, and he doesn't know what he'll do if the answer is no. Leave Goodie for a second week of duty? Stay himself?

"I'm fine, Harrington," Eddie promises, and Steve nods.

"Okay, then. I'll be back next weekend," Steve assures.

Steve worries about Eddie being alone the whole next week, and it's a long drive by himself, but not as long as it was with Goodie refusing to make even the smallest of small talk. 

Goodie didn't say a word for the eight hundred miles back to Hawkins.

Honestly, it was actually an improvement from the ride down.

When Steve pulls up the house, Eddie's on the porch again, and Steve wonders if this is where he spends most of his time. There don't seem to be any neighbors here right now close enough to see him, and even if there were, they wouldn't know the Harringtons well enough to be sure Eddie didn't belong. 

"Harrington," Eddie says, foot pushing slowly, keeping himself in a soft sway on the porch glider.

Steve sits down next to him, and then Eddie keeps them moving, the breeze coming through the porch, and not feeling bad at all. 

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles.

"Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks.

And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states.

"Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that. 

He doesn't know why. They aren't really friends or anything. Just two people that were thrown together to fight back against evil. They don't exactly have a whole hell of a lot in common beyond that.

They get into the beer, and Eddie pulls out a joint. It's fun, and relaxing, honestly. Doing a whole lot of nothing. It feels like a mini vacation, and like Steve's settled for the first time in weeks, months. So, he stays an extra day, and then another, because they're having so much fun. Robin will cover for him. She will. But he's really gotta go in the morning. 

"Your friend Goodie hates me," Steve says. 

"All bark, no bite," Eddie laughs. 

Steve doesn't know about that. He seemed pretty nippy to him. 

The next week, he brings the decks of cards Eddie had asked for, and now they sit around the round table on the porch, and play hand after hand, going through a case of beer and cigarette after cigarette. It's fun, and unexpected, and Steve's pretty sure next week, he's gonna find a way to stay longer. 

He's tipsy, they both are, as they stumble up the stairs towards their rooms. He's got his hands on Eddie, the excuse that he's helping him not fall, but he's pretty sure that's not the whole reason.

He doesn't examine it too much.

They're just having fun, and that's a nice change of pace from the shitshow that Hawkins has been over the past few years.

He wants to stay. 

As his head hits the pillow, and he rolls over onto his belly, he tries to devise a plan to make that happen, even as he's drifting.

The kids aren't happy about it when he says he's going to be traveling with his parents for a while, and they'd really be pissed if they knew that he was actually sneaking back to Florida to hole up with a very much still alive Eddie Munson. 

He's gonna have to pay for lying about this, to a lot of people that really love Eddie. Steve knows it. But, he'd do it again. Eddie's safe. He's healing up. Every week he's been more mobile, more agile, more…Eddie.

Sure, it's not as if Steve knew him well before all this. But they went to school together. He knows what Eddie Munson is all about, and it's definitely not being quietly introverted on a couch.

When he gets there, he lugs in his huge suitcase, and takes back over the empty room across the hall from the one Eddie's been staying in. 

And then they spend their time laying on the beach, or getting drunk, or stoned, as Eddie's body slowly finishes stitching itself back together. He still aches, and so does Steve, but it's not too bad anymore. There are no more bandaids, ointments or creams. No more antibiotics. They hurt, sure, but they're getting by better now.

Eddie wants to venture into the water, and with no open wounds, Steve can't find a reason to say no. Eddie had had to watch from the porch that first week as Gareth ran across the sand, wading out into the water.

Now, it's his turn. 

Steve by his side, making sure he's okay. Strong enough. They didn't go through all this just for Eddie to drown.

Steve's getting concerned that he can't quit touching Eddie, but Eddie doesn't seem interested in making him stop.

They're wet, and wrapped in towels, but it feels inevitable when Steve pushes Eddie towards the bathroom, and into the shower. Inevitable when he turns to leave, and Eddie snags his hand, pulling him back towards the tub. Inevitable as he washes his body, trying to not only ignore his own half-hard dick, but Eddie's too.

It's still inevitable as he slips on his clean underwear, and crawls into Eddie's bed instead of his own, and finally presses their lips together. 

Eddie kisses back, and hands roam across bare skin. Eddie's fingers trailing his back, making Steve squeeze his eyes shut. He didn't realize how long it's been since someone touched him like that.

Neither of them take it further than that, but they do find themselves, lips kiss-swollen and laying together, breathing heavily in the quiet of the room, and Steve doesn't even know how they've gotten to this point.

One day Eddie was just some guy, then he was wanted on trumped up murder charges, and now, well, this.

"What's the plan? I can't stay here forever," Eddie says into the darkness, and Steve thinks maybe he could. They both could. They'd be safer that way. Hawkins can fuck off. It's their hometown, but not home anymore. Just a place that would arrest Eddie and throw away the key, given half the chance. 

"We could," Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes.

"You know you can't. And your grandparents will turn up eventually, and be less than thrilled to see me here."

"They won't be back until winter, and even that's iffy," Steve reassures, more himself than Eddie, he's pretty sure.

They could sneak around for months, until the snow birds fly south, and nobody would know. 

That's all Steve thinks about as he falls asleep, Eddie's arm slung over his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve jerks, sitting bolt upright in bed. Eddie doesn't even stir beside him.

Gareth Jones is standing at the foot of the bed, and Jeff and Goodie are in the doorway. Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. There's no explaining this away as anything other than exactly what it is. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Eddie," Steve says, nudging him with his elbow. Eddie still doesn't budge, but his foot is sticking out of the comforter, and Gareth runs his knuckle up Eddie's bare sole.

Eddie's awake then, jerking his whole leg backwards.

"Jesus H. Christ, kid!" Eddie screeches, pulling the sheet up to his neck as if he's trying to protect his precious modesty. It's fucking endearing. 

Terrifying, but endearing.

Steve must be staring at Gareth, because the kid shrugs, "He was late to school. A lot. Wayne asked me to start getting him there before he was a fifth year senior from tardies alone. The bottom of the foot is foolproof."

And Steve's hammering heart slows, just a little. Nobody is screaming, there's no fight breaking out. Nobody's being called names. He's not sure how to take this. They've been caught in bed, but nobody is really reacting to that. 

It's just a best friend explaining how to get Eddie awake. Robin would know how to do that for him, too.

"What are you doing here?" Steve finally asks. 

"We thought we'd come give you a break," Jeff says from the doorway. 

"Doesn't look like you want it though," Goodie adds, and it's the nicest thing he's ever said to Steve, Steve's pretty sure.

"Our parents think we're at a band camp," Gareth adds, "before school starts back up for me."

"Band camp," Eddie laughs, flopping back against the pillows, "Go wait downstairs."

And they listen. 

Steve just lays there next to him, finally saying, "Well."

Eddie laughs, then turns to face Steve, "They knew about me. I mean, the theory of me. It's not like I was getting any action. From boys or girls. But they're cool. Freaks gather together."

Steve chuckles, but Eddie keeps talking, "I'm sorry they know about you without you okaying it first, though."

It's fine. Honestly. Like, if they aren't gonna kick his ass? Everything's fine. Sneaking around always ends this way. Steve knows it. You always get caught by someone. He just didn't predict it to be so soon, or here.

"How'd they even get in here?" Steve asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's pretty sure he locked the door when they went to bed.

"That's probably my bad. I taught Goodie to pick locks."

"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans on, sliding up the zipper.

"Yep," Eddie answers, "the school would sometimes forget to leave the room unlocked for us to have Hellfire. So, I taught him to open it, since I have a bit of a tendency to run late."

Steve laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Regret it now, though," Eddie says dryly, and Steve holds open the bedroom door for him.

Gareth and Goodie are sitting around the kitchen table, already helping themselves to the beer they found in the fridge. Cards dealt. Waiting.

Jeff's cooking a massive skillet of eggs and there's toast piled high on a plate.

Beer and eggs. That's something. Breakfast of champions.

"You can fuck him, but Eddie is my card partner," Gareth says, pushing a waiting hand of cards towards Eddie.

Fair enough.

Steve snags a plate, and is more interested in eating than cards, anyway.

"We can't have set partners with five of us," Jeff says. "It's just gotta happen as the game unfolds."

Gareth starts to argue, and it's like they totally moved on from what they all saw upstairs. Steve feels off-kilter, but he takes another bite of toast.

Maybe these guys are Eddie's version of Robin. That's the only thing that makes any sense. 

Steve picks up his cards, and starts organizing them in his hand. He isn't even sure what they're playing, but he guesses he'll figure it out. There were lots of card parties in the Harrington household growing up. He probably knows whatever they're gonna throw at him, as long as it isn't something they've straight made up.

Which is possible, he's sure, knowing Eddie.

But that's about the extent of the discussion about what they walked in on earlier. 

Jeff turns over a card.

"Eldest, auction is in your hands," Jeff says, and Eddie looks down at his cards.

"Order it up," Eddie says, eating eggs and playing at the same time.

"Trumped up, just like your murder charges," Goodie says, and everybody laughs. 

"That doesn't even make sense," Jeff says.

"You just wanted to say it," Gareth adds, and Goodie takes his needling pretty damn well, all things considered.

And Steve smiles, happy that this is something they can all joke and laugh about. That as fucking terrible as it all was, is, that they can still make light of it to cope.

That's not nothing. That Eddie wasn't lost to it. That he's here to be gently ribbed. That his friends believe in his innocence, totally.

Eddie names his card, and Gareth plays it, becoming Eddie's partner. 

They continue to play, and things do not go Gareth's way, which Goodie seems to be enjoying.

And later, Goodie smirks, "I'm in the barn."

Gareth heaves a big sigh, "Damn. I'm gonna get skunked." 

And everybody laughs at his misfortune.

They stay. Camp out in all the rooms in the house, staking their claim. And it's actually a lot of fun. Like a high school house party that just doesn't end in a fist fight on the lawn. Steve hasn't been this relaxed since, well, before. Before 1983. Before monsters and the Upside Down came crashing into his life. 

He embraces this break, this chance to just be. He's not a kid anymore. Not in age, and definitely not in life experience. 

He lays on the beach, catching a tan.

These couple of weeks have felt as close to a vacation as he's gotten in years, and he lets the worry of the past slide off his back. 

Steve supplies the beer, Goodie has a few pre-rolls left, so they smoke, drink, and play cards. Steve watches them fight over the stereo, and he learns to recognize the new Accept album by ear with time. 

They swim, except for Goodie, because apparently he's scared of gators. Even if they tell him that the gulf isn't a swamp, and the chances of him being taken down by a gator are extremely unlikely. Not impossible, gators gonna gate, but it's not like it's super plausible. 

Goodie doesn't care. He's not doing it, and says no amount of peer pressure will work on him. So, he sits on the porch, beer on his knee. Cigarette in hand. 

So much for him being big and bad, Steve thinks. 

Today, girls have suddenly appeared down the beach. Screaming and laughing, and they all watch them intently. Taking in the bikinis. The bouncing boobies. Not one of them above watching a free show. 

They have a volleyball that comes bouncing in their direction, leading the girls to finally notice them and approach. Apparently Steve's the only one with a working voice, though. He learns there are a pair of sisters staying in their grandparents' beach house with their friends. One last hurrah before going back to, or for a couple of the girls starting, college. 

University of Nebraska. Go, Cornhuskers. Apparently.

Since Steve's the only one engaging like a normal human, they're paying extra attention to him. One in particular. And she's cute. But he politely rebuffed her attention the best he could, and then watched Eddie do the same.

Goodie builds a little bonfire, and Steve is kind of impressed. He doesn't even know where he got the wood at. 

Of course, Steve was less impressed when he was sent off for the stuff to make s'mores.

Eddie followed him, and as nervous as Steve is any time Eddie pokes his head out of the house, it's probably fine. Honestly. They are so far from Hawkins. 

Eddie does wait in the car at the grocery store, but then digs through the bag to see what Steve bought. 

Graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows. Steve's not sure what else Eddie expected, honestly. It's s'mores.

By the time they get back, one of the girls has taken a shine to Gareth, and now Steve and Eddie are watching him blush and blunder through what Steve thinks could be considered flirting, maybe. 

It's honestly a good show. 

For some reason, she isn't put off by Gareth's awkwardness, and later that night, with the window to his room open, Steve can hear Gareth talking to her down below on the porch. 

He's not as bad as Steve once thought, none of them are.

Just like Eddie.

Steve should have realized that earlier, he's pretty sure. First impressions are almost never right about anyone.

And their partying continues, just now there are girls involved. The group, growing. 

Goodie's suddenly not as scared of gators, apparently. Because there's a girl on his back out in the water. 

Steve sees Gareth dip under the water, and knows where this is going, and sure enough, he must snag Goodie's foot, which causes a commotion. 

Steve misses Robin. He sits there considering if there's any way he could get Mrs. Buckley to let her join them, but can't think of an excuse that would seem plausible. Unless Robin also wants to go to fake band camp, too.

Steve's lounging on the steps, leaned back, his elbows braced against the wood. Watching from behind his sunglasses. 

Gareth sits next to him. 

Two of the girls are hitting around a volleyball. Bouncing along the sand. 

"Boobies," Steve says. 

"Boobies," Gareth echoes, then laughs. 

They sit and watch a few seconds longer, then Gareth says, "Eddie doesn't have those, you know." 

"I know," Steve answers. "I like both. I'm okay with that. Are you?" 

"Yeah. Eddie does too," Gareth says, then turns and looks at Steve fully. 

Steve turns to see what he's doing. 

"Thanks. For saving him. I know we've been kinda shitty at times, but we owe you." 

They don't owe him anything, but he still teases, "Don't worry. Someday I'll collect." 

Gareth slaps him on the shoulder, and then inserts himself in the volleyball game down below.

The next morning, Steve's shaving at the sink, bathroom door open, when Gareth appears in the doorway. 

Then says nothing. 

Steve keeps shaving, waiting to see what this is. Finally asking, "Eddie okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. Um, I have a question." 

Steve meets his eyes in the mirror. Still waiting.

"Do you have a condom I can borrow?" 

Steve grins, "Maybe. But not borrow. I definitely don't want it back."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Very funny. Eddie told me to ask you. I regret that decision, now." 

Steve reaches over and gets his bathroom bag, and tosses it to Gareth, "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Gareth says, as he digs through it, finding what he was looking for. And then takes the whole box. Little shit.

But Steve lets him. He'd rather Gareth have more than he needs, instead of less. Steve can buy more. He's not embarrassed at all. 

"Play safe," Steve says as Gareth tosses his bag back, it thumping against Steve's bare chest.

Gareth doesn't come home that night, and by mid-afternoon the next day and still no sight of him, Eddie is sending Steve down to check on him. 

He's fine. Just laying on the couch in the girls' house, hand up the shirt of the petite, blonde one. 

"Check in with Eddie later," Steve says, startling him. "You know how he worries." 

Gareth laughs, and gives Steve a little salute and then a dismissive shooing away motion. 

Another girl is at the top of the staircase, and lifts the hem of her shirt, flashing him. 

"If only I wasn't already spoken for, sweetheart," he says, holding his hands to his heart, as if he's wounded by this admission. 

And she's laughing, and seems charmed, not offended, which is what he'd hoped for. He hasn't made anything official with Eddie, and they have definitely cooled their jets since Eddie's friends arrived, even if they all know. 

Steve walks down the sand, and Eddie is waiting on the porch.

"Well?" Eddie asks.

"I saw some tits," Steve says, sitting down next to him, "and Gareth's fine."

Eddie laughs, and briefly slides his hand through Steve's arm, squeezing his elbow.

In no time at all, the girls are packing up their cars, and Gareth is acting like he's about to become a war widow. 

Steve gets it. He does. Your first, you don't forget. But this should have been a little summer fling for him, not a pending broken heart. 

It's not like Gareth doesn't have to go soon, too. Labor day is quickly approaching.

Gareth is pretty pissed off that summer has slipped away, and now he has to go back to school. One more year. The youngest. Without him, they could probably stay indefinitely. 

And he's very unhappy about that fact.

But, he's made it his life's mission to make it clear to all of them that while he has to go back to high school for another year, at least he's not a virgin anymore. 

They're all sick of hearing it, and Steve's grateful it isn't gonna be him stuck in the car for twelve hours with him this time.

Eddie has given Gareth very explicit, detailed instructions on how to run Hellfire. How to keep it going for the other sheepies. Sure, the name will likely have to be changed. It's far too tainted now. And they might even if they have to do it in private, away from that godforsaken school, but Eddie wants that to happen, if need be.

A few days later, it's their turn to leave, and they're dragging feet, Gareth especially. 

"Are you ever coming home?" Gareth asks Eddie, standing next to his mom's borrowed minivan.

Eddie looks at Steve, and Steve doesn't have the heart to answer that. 

But no. Eddie's probably not.

Alone, once again, Steve follows Eddie up the staircase, his hand resting in the small of his back. As if Eddie still needs help with his balance. He doesn't, but Steve wants to touch him, nonetheless.

Steve watches as Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. He's gotten a bit of a tan while his friends were here, and he looks healthier, finally. Steve's hands find his bare skin, squeezing his sides. Eddie laughs, hair falling into his face. 

And Steve wants. 

He kisses him like he means it, then pulls back. During his last beer run, he'd done some other stocking up as well. He pulls the plastic sack out of the nightstand. New boxes of condoms and K-Y jelly. He shakes them out onto the bed.

"You wanna?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks at them, cheeks going a little red, but he nods.

There's a little confusion on the expectations here, but Steve rolls over onto his belly. This is what he wants. He's never had it, but he wants it, anyway.

"I've never, have you ever?" Eddie asks, holding the tube in hand, flipping the cap open and shut, over and over again.

Steve shakes his head, "No."

There's a learning curve. It's kinda steep, but at least they can laugh about it. They can figure it out together, and now that Eddie's finally got two fingers in him, Steve thinks they're finally getting somewhere. 

It's an odd feeling, honestly. He isn't sure what he feels about it, other than full.

But he's gonna ride this out. See where it goes.

Now up on his knees, the blunt head of Eddie's cock is definitely bigger than his fingers, and Steve hangs his head down between his shoulders, and sucks in a sharp breath.

Eddie stills, "You still okay?"

There's a hand on Steve's ass, and he focuses on that point of contact. Like everything is in that warm touch, and nowhere else.

"It's a lot," Steve admits. Because it is.

"Want me to stop?" Eddie asks, his other hand now trailing up Steve's spine.

"No. No. Just, more lube, I think. And go slow," which Steve knows is an ask. He's pretty sure Eddie's barely been moving at all.

Eddie slides out, and now Steve feels left open, and missing something. It's so fucking weird. There's more lube, and more fingers, and even more lube. Steve feels it dripping out of him, he's pretty sure. 

But then Eddie's pressing in again, and it seems to go a little easier. He feels the head of his cock pop past his rim, right into him, and he groans, fisting at the sheets underneath him. It's good, and the rest of the slide feels easier.

Eddie eventually stills.

"You all in?" Steve asks. He's not sure what he'll do if there's more.

"Fuck, yes," Eddie answers, and then Steve can feels his fingertips brushing along his hole as it's stretched around his cock, buried deep inside. "Look at you."

Steve can't do that, but wishes he could.

"You good?" Eddie asks.

Yeah. Steve thinks he's good, "Yeah. Yeah. You can move. Slow. Go slow. But fuck me."

And Eddie does. It's a little hesitant, and uneven, but he draws back, and then slides deep again. And again. Until he's found a nice rhythm. Steve feels insane, and whiny, and so fucking needy. 

He didn't expect how much he'd enjoy this. He kinda just thought he'd be taking one for the team.

Fuck that. He's taking this for himself. Happily, greedily.

It doesn't last long. Steve knows how that goes. The first time you slide into a body that's allowing, welcoming, you inside. It's overwhelming, and feels good in a way you can't even begin to expect.

Eddie shoves deep one more time, and comes with a noise that is nearly enough to send Steve over the edge, untouched. 

When he pulls out, Steve feels empty. Cracked open, and then Eddie rolls him over onto his back, slick hand finding his cock, eyes locked straight on Steve's, and Steve melts into it. He looks at Eddie. Into his dark eyes, his hand gripping Eddie's scarred waist, holding on.

It's a firm slide up, and back down, and Steve can feel his orgasm building. And when he tenses and comes, splattering his own belly and chest, he feels so fucking good. Eddie eventually lets go, cleans him up, and then curls into his side.

Fingers dancing along his skin, and Steve suspects, going from mole to mole.

He's gonna fall in love with him, hell, probably already has.

"We gotta do something. Make a plan. We can't stay hidden here forever," Eddie eventually says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "Even if I want to."

Steve knows. He knows that's true.

"Okay. I'll figure it out."

Steve paces on the porch, worried. He eyes the nailbat leaning against the railing, waiting, in case he needs it. He's scared he's made a mistake. Scared that it's gonna be helicopters, spotlights, and a whole fucking army decending on them.

It's not.

It's Dr. Sam Owens. Alone, with a briefcase.

Two hours later, Eddie Munson has a whole new identity, and a small tote bag of cash. A payout Steve hadn't even known to ask for, but Owens had brought as a peace offering to keep Eddie quiet if he'll just slink off and not expose all their secrets. 

Wayne's paperwork is on the counter, if he wants it. 

Jeff and Goodie are bringing Wayne out next week. That's the plan anyway. If they can lure him into the car. 

Eddie can't return to Hawkins with his new identity, but he can leave the beach house. Can leave Florida. He can go anywhere he wants, now.

Dr. Owens is descending the steps, nearly onto the sand, when Steve hurries out onto the porch. 

"Hey, wait!"

Dr. Owens turns around, and Steve suddenly isn't sure what to say.

"Yes?"

"Um. What would it take, to get me that kind of paperwork?"

Owens smirks, just a little, and reaches into his briefcase, pulling out a manilla envelope. 

Steve takes it.

"How did you know?" Steve asks.

"I've had eyes on you from the moment you ferreted him out of Hawkins."

Steve swallows. Nods.

Looks down at the envelope he's gripping tight. He could disappear, too. If he wants. He'd have to find some way to loop in Robin, of course, but he could just…go. 

Wherever Eddie wants. 

"Thank you," Steve says. 

"We think the activity in Hawkins has ceased. Once they finish rebuilding, it should be back to business as usual." 

Steve nods again. But it'll never be the same. Can't be. But the town will be able to start over. Have proven that's the plan. Hell, they've already figured out a way to start school on time and everything. 

Dr. Owens gives him one last look, and then he's gone.

Eddie's standing on the porch, and as Steve climbs the steps, Eddie holds open the door, asking, "What's next?"

Steve turns the lock, "Anything you want."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics to follow along with the filth and fun! 💦🎵

Notes: In the 1980's Destin was just starting to turn into the vacation city it now is. It went from fishing village to a resort city.

Accept's album Russian Roulette was released on April 21, 1986. As we're all aware, Eddie was wearing an Accept pin on his battle vest during S4.

[dreamwatch]

Mine is Yours

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #23 - Prompt: Up And Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None | Tags: Fluff, good Uncle Wayne, good nephew Eddie, the Munsons

It’s been a year since Eddie’s been home. 

He pulls up outside the trailer in Forest Hills. Wayne’s truck is more beat to shit than he remembers, but the thing was on its last legs when he left for Indy in ‘87. Theres gaffer tape holding up the rusting rear bumper, and the tires are near bald.

He let’s himself inside, careful not to wake Wayne; the one blessing that came from all the shit of 1986 was that the government gave them a double wide and the old man finally got a bedroom again. That was the one thing Eddie could never quite shake the shame of, especially when he was a high school senior seemingly unable to graduate. He’s hoping today’s visit will make up for it a little. 

He takes his sneakers off, new ones he only bought a few weeks ago, lines them up neatly next to Wayne’s work boots, then heads into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He had an early start, and what with the flight from LA (a flight!) and the drive from Indy, he’s aching for sleep.

He takes his coffee over to the couch, the red pleather one they picked up for a steal (because it was ugly as shit, Robin had said), puts his feet up and closes his eyes. Just for a minute.

“—die. Eddie. Hey, rise and shine.”

He wakes with a gasp, wisps of a memory, of leathery skin and tails and razor teeth.

“Wayne?”

“There he is.” Wayne straightens up, back cracking as he does. “You never said you were coming, or am I going senile?”

“Both,” Eddie says around a yawn.

Wayne sticks his hand in Eddie’s curls, ruffling them gently. “If you want breakfast and a place to stay, be nice.”

Eddie rolls off the couch, giving Wayne a hug before following him into the kitchen, perching himself on a stool to watch as Wayne sets about making them breakfast at five in the afternoon.

“Is everything okay? Not that I’m not happy to see you, just a long way to drive for a catch up.”

Eddie grins. “Actually, I flew.”

“Flew?” He whistles. “My boy, the rockstar.”

They sit at the table together, bacon, eggs and toast laid out in front of them, Wayne catching him up on the comings and goings of the plant and Forest Hills; old Rose Hannigan still being a nosey bitch as usual, and Dougie has a new dog and god the damn thing won’t stop barking during the day. It’s nice. It’s so different from LA, so small in the best way, and even though his relationship with home, with Hawkins, is so complex, cut through with slithers of painful memories, he misses it. He does. It doesn’t make all that much sense.

Or is it just Wayne he misses? The man who loved him and protected him when his father couldn’t (wouldn’t). The man who gave him everything and more, who was working himself to an early grave to look after a boy that wasn’t his own.

Eddie grabs his bag from the floor and slides the white envelope out, still neat and crisp. He pushes it across the table.

“What’s this?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Open it and find out.”

He gets a raised eyebrow back for his trouble, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Wayne. Doesn’t want to miss this.

Wayne grumbles about envelopes being too sticky these days and then he pulls out the slip of paper tucked inside and comes to a stop.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s a check, Uncle Wayne.”

He shoots Eddie a scowl. “I can see it’s a check. Where— I don’t understand.”

Eddie fold his arms on the table in front of him. “The album is selling. It’s doing good, actually. We’re big in Germany, the UK, I think we’re doing pretty good in Japan too. You know I wrote most of those songs, right?”

Wayne gives him a little nod.

“Well I got a nice royalty check for that. Just came through a few weeks ago.” He gestures at the paper in Wayne’s hands. “And this is for you.”

“Eddie this is… Jesus Christ. Ten thousand dollars? You can’t be serious?”

And Eddie is full on smiling now, grinning ear to ear. “I got thirty thousand.” He laughs. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Eddie, I can’t take this.”

“You can and you’re gonna.” He’s deadly serious now. “These come quarterly, this one’s the second. They’re getting bigger. Sales are growing, so, there’s more coming. And even if there wasn’t, doesn’t matter. I want you to have this—“

“No—“

“Wayne—“

“No!“

“Jesus Christ, you stubborn old fart. I have money now, which means we have money now. I’m not in LA busting my ass for me, I’m doing it for us! And this is the start. That truck should have been put out to pasture before I started high school. You’ve never had a vacation. I’ve never seen you spend a dollar on yourself.”

“Never needed anything.”

“How about wanting? You get to want, Wayne. You deserve to want. And how about not having to worry where the money’s coming from when the roof leaks, or the boiler breaks? I don’t want you to have to worry anymore.”

Wayne shakes his head, but the fight is leaving him. “Ed…” he says, a little choked. He reaches his hand across the table and Eddie grabs it.

“I love you, old man. I want you to have this. Please?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that? Even before this,” he waves the check in the air. “I’ve always been proud of you.”

“I know. So, you going to take it? Get a new fucking truck?”

Eddie can see the pride on his uncle’s face, but he doesn’t need to; he’s always known. Always felt it.

Wayne squeezes Eddie’s hand, still looking a little shell shocked but smiling. Happy. 

“Reckon I might.”

[inawickedlittletown]

You've Got the Love to See Me Through - 7x06 coda

Read on Ao3

Summary: Tommy's pov of 7x06...or just let this man get some rest.

Words: 4,769

-

“Go home, Kinard. Get some sleep. Remember, you’re on standby tonight.” 

Sleep. Right. Tommy was definitely not going home to get sleep despite how much he might want to. He could have called Evan and made his excuses, but Evan had already texted him twice that week to make sure he was coming to Chimney’s Bachelor party, so Tommy really couldn’t miss it. Not even because his shift had wound up running something like four hours long or because he was on standby. It was part of the job, he’d had longer nights they just usually ended with him passed out on his bed, not driving to a karaoke lounge. Considering it was the night before the wedding, Tommy figured things weren’t going to get out of hand or go too long and he’d get to his bed eventually. 

He headed into the building and had to walk down a long hall until he finally made it to the room Evan had reserved. He saw Eddie first, giving him a high five. Then his eyes landed on Evan. He looked good and seeing Evan took away some of his exhaustion, especially when they hugged and he could smell his cologne. 

Tommy was glad, when he could sit down and get something that resembled rest. He would have preferred it if Evan sat down too, instead they all got to watch him as he paced and glared at anyone that dared to try to go near the sliders. He’d lost count of the number of times that Evan had already tried to call Chimney and kept himself entertained watching Eddie play bartender, when he wasn’t watching Evan. 

Time had ceased to have much meaning for Tommy some three hours back, so he had no idea how much had passed when Hen stood up, her wife following suit. And others started to follow their lead despite how much Evan tried to keep them. 

Of course, that’s when he got the call to go in. So much for getting any sleep.

He could see the disappointment on Evan’s face, and Tommy wished it was different. He wished he could stay behind and maybe convince Evan that they could still have fun, but he was on standby and he wouldn’t be called in without reason. 

“Be safe,” Evan said. 

Tommy held onto that. He felt a little odd, too, because though he’d known it would be different to date a fellow first responder, he still hadn’t really understood, because as disappointed as Evan was at his departure, he also got it. 

He caught up to Hen and Karen, making their way to the exit. 

“You’re leaving too?” Hen asked. 

“Got called in,” Tommy said. 

“Does that mean you’ll miss the wedding?” Karen asked. 

“I’ll try not to. So, Chim really didn’t want this party?” 

Even without looking at her, Tommy could tell that Hen was rolling her eyes. “Buck wore him down. Or, maybe Chimney got tired of saying no and never intended on coming.”

Karen made a noise of agreement. “He’s probably enjoying his hotel room. I don’t blame him.” 

Tommy said his goodbyes and got to his car. In an effort to keep himself awake, he drove to a starbucks on the way to Harbor and downed most of the drink before he arrived. 

Lucy was getting out of her car as he parked and she waited for him. 

“Hey. They called you in too?” She called out to him. 

“Sure did,” Tommy said, and tried to fight a yawn. 

He was in the air within fifteen minutes, flying out solo to drop retardant over the fire. When he landed, he had to wait for the chopper to be filled up again which meant his priority was getting to the coffee maker for more caffeine. He pulled his phone out and took it off airplane mode as he went and watched as several texts landed in his inbox.

Evan: No Chim. How’s work? Stay safe. 

Evan: Partying with people. Still no Chim. 😔

Evan: SHOTS!! 

Evan: Eddi says we gotts toooo song 👨🏻‍🎤🎤

Another text came through as he was fixing his coffee. 

Eddie: yo misssss all tge fun adinkamsc 

Tommy couldn’t help but snort. Oh, they were both going to regret their night. 

He had just enough time to drink his coffee before he was back out in the sky. When he got back to the station, he ran into Lucy. 

“We’re gonna fly out there and help from the ground,” she informed him. “The retardant is helping, but they need more bodies. There’s been a few injuries. This thing is huge.” 

Their captain confirmed as Tommy made it inside. 

He checked his phone on the way to the locker room. 

Evan: wHet lik boo y 

Evan: takhujns par tee to cim 🥳

Eddie: UBEr!1!!!1

Evan: No 🔑 🧑🏻‍🚒🧑🏻‍🚒

Tommy was far too tired and busy to actually decipher what Evan could mean. 

It was rare for him to have to use his turnout gear. He was a pilot, his skills were best used in the sky, but sometimes it was about going where they were needed. He carried the gear out rather than putting it on. Lucy joined him and Tommy flew them back out, this time dropping the water that had been loaded on. Lucy did the work of reporting what they saw from the air and it didn’t look great. The sky was tinted orange and gray and it could have looked beautiful if it wasn’t so destructive. They were directed to reload more water to drop and that was how it went for a while. 

Tommy had no idea what time it was when they were told to just bring down the chopper and join on the ground. It was night, but that was hard to tell with the orange and yellow flames and the clouds of smoke that flew into the air. They landed pretty far from the fire itself, and would have to walk past all the trucks and cars. They put on their gear, Tommy taking his flight suit off to replace it with the heavy pants and coat, and then they were on their way. 

“You look beat, Kinard,” Lucy said. 

“I already worked OT on my last shift. Now this.” 

“Ouch,” she said. 

“And I’m supposed to be going to a wedding tomorrow.” 

She winced. “That’s tomorrow? I don’t think you’re gonna make it.” 

He just laughed. He’d sort of given up on that prospect. The suit he’d left hanging off his closet door would just need to be put back in the back of his closet unless he got out of there in time to join everyone at the reception. Sometimes the job just wasn’t fair, but the closest to having the day off that Tommy had managed was staying on standby. It was also why he’d taken the shift he’d just got off of. 

“I know you were looking forward to it, Tommy,” Lucy said, patting his shoulder. 

Tommy shrugged. There would be other dates with Evan, but this had felt special. Not just how Evan had wanted to include him in something so important, but because it was Evan showing everyone who he really was. 

“One good thing is he’ll understand why you aren’t making it,” Lucy added. 

That just reminded Tommy of the disappointed look on Evan’s face when he left the karaoke lounge.

They got their orders from the battalion chief and Tommy found himself falling into the rhythm. Anytime he had to get down on the ground, it reminded Tommy why he loved the sky, not that he really minded the change in pace. He did gain his second wind as he worked which helped keep him going. 

Tommy didn’t get a chance to check his phone again until he was on a break. Grabbing a protein bar to snack on and drinking water for his very parched and dry throat. 

He had a voicemail from Eddie as well as a few missed calls and several texts. 

Evan: 🛏️ 🤵🏻‍♂️

Evan: 🚁

Eddie: 🍾��bavcnjklo’s!!

Evan: i mus u…com e bcksjm pldne

Eddie: yo boyfrienddd owens 👚

Tommy just smiled. He was going to have so much fun when he saw Evan again. He didn’t bother with the voicemail, because he had to save something to amuse himself with later and then returned to the job. 

As the night wore on, he was sent back to Harbor to fuel up, and fill up with retardant. It was apparently the type of fire that just kept fueling itself up. They were doing some work fighting it and keeping it from spreading, but he could tell it would still be hours before they were close to getting it put out. 

The next time he checked his phone there wasn’t anything new and he hoped that meant that Evan had gone to bed. At least one of them was getting some sleep. 

A few hours later found him clutching at the tiny paper cup of coffee he’d been handed by a stressed looking boy. It wasn’t gonna do much, but anything to stay attentive. He pulled his phone out and it was getting really close to wedding time. He might be lucky if he made it to the reception. 

Evan: Chim is missing 

Evan: Sorry for all the drunken texts.

Evan: Last night was insane. We thought Chim was sleeping…he wasn’t here all night. 

Evan: He wouldn’t leave Maddie at the altar. Something has to be wrong. 

Evan: Found Chim’s phone

Evan: No Chim 

Evan: Maddie is going to dispatch to look for him. Sending people home from wedding. Guess you won’t be missing it after all. Be safe out there. I’ll keep updating. 

Tommy suddenly wondered why none of them had actually bothered to check in on Chim the night before. How long had he been missing? 

“Hey, what’s up?” Lucy asked. 

“Looks like Chim is missing,” Tommy said.

A text came through just then. 

Evan: He got on a bus going downtown. 

“They find him?” 

“Not yet,” Tommy said. 

“Keep me updated, alright?” 

Due to his lack of rest, Tommy was kept working on the ground. The fire just didn’t seem to want to die down. He’d lost count of how many companies had been brought out. After his second wind, he did gain a third, and it kept him going. When he could, he checked his phone, looking for the good news that Chim had been found safe and sound. 

Evan: Pretty sure Chim has viral encephalitis

Evan: Out on the street looking for him. He helped triage a bunch of people. We think he doesn’t remember what year it is. 

Evan: He went to the Lees. They’re taking him to the hospital. 

Evan: Drs pretty confident he’ll be fine.

He felt relieved and yet he also knew that Evan was probably hung over, worried, and dealing with his sister’s emotions and worries as well. He wished, more than anything, to be there for him and give Evan a shoulder to lean on. 

On his next break, while he tried to stomach a granola bar, he got a good look at his phone again. The fire was more than 80% contained. A lot of the companies already making to depart. 

Evan: He’s awake and he wants to get married anyway. Have to do it before visiting hours are over. Ceremony starts in like an hour. 

He’d attached a location pin. 

“Hey, did they find him?” 

Tommy looked up. “Yeah. They’re having the wedding at the hospital.” 

Lucy made a face. “Seriously? I guess that’s fitting for them.” 

“Is Kinard texting his boyfriend again?” someone else asked. 

Tommy turned and found James, who wiggled his eyebrows. Lucy laughed. 

“Yes, actually. He’s sad he’s not gonna make it to the wedding.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s today?” 

“Yeah…but, you know, fire. And now it’s happening at the hospital, so…”

So he wasn’t going to make it there and Evan would probably make that pouty disappointed face and Tommy was the one that had put it there. Not on purpose, and maybe Evan would understand, but he would still be responsible for it. 

“So he’s gonna be moody all the way back to Harbor,” Lucy said. 

They were given the okay to go when they got back from their break and Tommy couldn’t have been happier. He still wouldn’t make it. He and Lucy were gonna have to catch ride back to Harbor and then even if he didn’t stop to get changed, he’d still have to drive to the hospital. 

Lucy solved the problem for him, getting him a lift on the ambulance taking a couple of firefighters with minor burn injuries. He didn’t care that he was a mess and that he still had all his gear on.  

Tommy: Heading over to hospital. Not sure I’ll make the ceremony, but I’m coming. 

Evan texted when they were around the corner from the hospital. 

Evan: They just got married. 

Evan: Tell me when you get here.

Tommy: Emergency entrance in a few minutes. 

Evan: I’m coming. 

“Go get your boy,” the firefighter with a nasty burn down his left arm said when the ambulance parked. 

The paramedic and the firefighter both made kissy noises at him. It was the result of a long night, they were all tired and loopy. Tommy didn’t even bother to respond. The driver just grinned at him when Tommy threw him a thank you. 

Tommy felt weary down to his bones. He was sore and a headache was brewing right behind his eyes. The time he’d been sitting for the drive had only tired him out more. He walked quickly, regardless, past the doors that slid open and then he saw him. Evan was in a soft looking blue hoodie. 

“Sorry I’m late. That fire was a beast,” Tommy began, ready to offer more explanations. 

Evan didn’t look upset. 

“So are you,” Evan said which Tommy didn’t even understand.  

The next thing Tommy knew was Evan’s hand on his shoulder, climbing to his neck and his lips pressing insistently on his. Tommy fell into it, he kissed back, unable to keep a moan from getting buried between their lips as he pulled Evan closer by the waist, losing himself entirely to Evan and not quite believing that this had been his welcome. The first kiss, the one that Tommy had replayed in his mind too many times to count, it had been soft and sweet and lovely, but this was…it was mind-melting. It was wet and messy and hot…so so hot. 

It was only when the doors opened behind them again, that they both realized where they were. The blush on Evan’s face was partially hidden by the soot that had got on him and Tommy cracked up into a laugh. 

“What?” Evan asked, smiling still. 

“You’re covered in soot.” 

Evan touched his face and brought his fingers down, rubbing them together. “I’m used to it,” he said and then, narrowed his eyes on Tommy. “Wait, why are you covered in soot?” 

“Wound up helping on the ground.”

He was glad that Evan didn’t question it or ask for an explanation like someone else might. Tommy was exhausted and he was feeling it more and more, but he let Evan lead him further into the hospital. 

“You’re not gonna clean up first?” he asked, conscious of what it would look like. 

Evan just shot him a grin. If anything, it made the soot even more obvious. “Nah. There’s cake. Come on.” 

Tommy was too tired to do anything to stop Evan. Then again it was his face even if it was Tommy’s soot. 

Chimney’s room was full of people. Too many for him to take in at once, so he focused on the newly weds. Chimney was propped up in the hospital bed with his new wife. Their very adorable daughter — Evan’s niece — at the foot of the bed. 

Evan cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, “look who almost made it.” 

“Congratulations you two,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony.” 

He could see it on Chimney’s face, the toll of the day and yet the happiness that managed to still shine through. He did look between him and Buck a few times. Tommy caught Eddie’s gaze too and saw that Eddie was fighting to hold in laughter probably at some attempt at being supportive. Evan was never going to live this down. 

“Looks like you were…busy,” Chim said. 

“Cake?” Evan asked. He was simply amazing. 

Tommy was by his own admonition, confident. He hadn’t always been, and there were still certainly things that made him unsure and nervous. When he first realized that Evan was completely new to liking men, he’d assumed that it would take time for Evan to come to terms with it and to come out and to be ready for acting on it. He’d wanted to fully remove himself from the equation so that Evan wasn’t pressured into more than he was ready for. Maybe Evan just processed things at a speed Tommy wasn’t used to, or he was actually far more prepared than Tommy had expected. 

Evan brought two plates with cake over and their fingers brushed as Tommy grabbed his. He saw Hen and Karen looking at them and Hen gave him a nod that looked more proud than anything else. Another couple was staring, they were older and if Tommy hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the resemblance and put it together at once. It took him until he saw them interacting with Evan’s niece. Her grandparents — Evan’s parents. 

He focused on eating cake, too tired for anything else. It was sweet and far tastier than anything he’d had to eat all day. Evan kept close to his side, only leaving for a few minutes to speak to Christopher before he was back, taking his empty plate and getting rid of it before returning, this time stepping even closer to him. 

Tommy was aware that he was covered in soot and ash and sweat and that he probably smelled like smoke and burning trees. As much as he wanted a shower, he wanted a bed more. 

“We can leave after pictures,” Evan whispered to him as Karen started taking pictures of Maddie and Chim. 

Tommy leaned his shoulder on the doorway watching the different combinations. It didn’t take very long and then he saw Evan hugging his sister and then Chim before heading his way. He didn’t go to his parents, but he saw him share a smile with Hen and Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze. It was clear who Evan’s family was. 

“Thank you for coming, Tommy,” Maddie said, loud enough for him to hear it at the door. 

Tommy gave her a nod and he waved at the room as he walked out with Evan. Tommy didn’t know if he was the one to reach out or if it was Evan, but at some point, Evan’s hand found its way into his. 

“Did you drive here?” Evan asked. 

“Caught a ride on an ambulance.” 

“Okay. Good. So we won’t have to come back and get your car.”

Evan got him to his car and Tommy was surprised when Evan actually opened the passenger door for him and then closed it after Tommy got in before rounding the car and getting in. 

“Your place?” Evan asked.

“Please.” 

Evan chuckled. “I’m going to need your address.” 

Tommy just pulled out his phone and opened google maps and hit home before handing his phone over. He put his seatbelt on and then leaned against the door, trying to fight off the sleep that threatened to take him. 

“Rest,” he heard Evan say and then felt the touch of a hand in his hair and cheek. 

When the car started moving, he sighed and let his eyes close fully. The next thing Tommy knew, he felt hands cupping his chin and thumbs brushing his cheeks. 

“Tommy. Tommy. We’re here, Tommy.” 

He blinked awake and felt all of it hit him again. The headache that was starting earlier was full blown. He was sore and tired and his eyes literally stung, too dry and eyelids too heavy to keep open. It took everything in him to get out of the car and he stumbled once his feet hit the ground. 

“Seriously, how long have you gone without sleep?”

Tommy heard the question, but he didn’t process it. 

“That long,” Evan said and there was something unreadable on his face. “Keys?” Evan asked. 

Back at Harbor, he realized and groaned until he remembered the flower pot. After two instances of having to break into his own house and having to replace a lock in the one instance and a door in the other, Tommy had figured out he needed a hidden spare key. He had a fake rock in the flower pot. He pointed it out to Evan who dealt with taking it out without damaging the flowers and then opening the door. 

For some reason, he didn’t know why he’d expected Evan to just leave him there once he’d made it inside. He wasn’t exactly fit to be company, not when all he really needed was to crawl into bed, the ash and soot and sweat to be dealt with when he woke. 

Evan walked inside with him, though, and stopped him when he tried to walk further in. 

“First you’re getting all this gear off,” Evan said. 

Tommy grunted. He tried to fight his jacket off, but it didn’t want to budge. Evan’s hands were deft as they helped to pull the whole thing off, dropping it right in the entryway. Tommy fumbled with the pants, but Evan pulled each suspender off his shoulders, his hands soft and careful and then the pants were pooling at his feet. Evan knelt and helped with his shoes and then his pants. He was down to just his base layer and Tommy could have just crawled into bed just like that. Evan had other ideas. 

Tommy found himself in his bathroom. Evan seemed to have no problems undressing him and Tommy was too tired, even when he was down to just underwear. All of it was a bit of a blur, but later he would remember how nice it felt to have someone else wash his hair, or how he’d had more than cold tile to lean on while soap washed away everything. 

He remembered the feel of a towel on his skin and the light touch of a hand on his bare back and then how it felt to get into his bed, the sheets clean and nice and cool. He remembered a kiss on his forehead and a hand that he grabbed onto and a warm body that contrasted nicely to the cool sheets. 

Tommy woke up slowly, aware that he was in his bed, but that he wasn’t alone and that there was too much light coming from the windows where the shades hadn’t been drawn. His mind supplied very little in explanation for why he would have forgotten his shades and even less about why he wasn’t alone. His eyelids were too heavy to open, and he felt stiff and more than a little sore.

“Sleep,” Evan said. “It’s early, still.” 

Evan. Evan was in his bed. His back to Tommy’s front, and his hand on the arm Tommy had around him, fingers gently running over his forearm to his hand. 

He drifted, not fully asleep, but certainly not awake. Fell back asleep. 

A while later, he woke alone. He’d been on his side, but he dropped onto his back, blinking at the ceiling. It felt like a dream. A kiss at the entrance to a hospital and Chim getting married in a hospital room. Evan in his shower. 

Wait…Evan in his shower?

The hospital? 

He heard footsteps and as he started to sit up, Evan walked in. He brought a bottle of water and a plate with toast and eggs and potatoes. Tommy’s stomach growled. Evan chuckled and wait, was Evan wearing one of his shirts? 

“Hungry?” Evan asked. “You slept for almost ten hours.” 

He’d probably needed it. Didn’t keep him from being quite a bit groggy. Tommy watched Evan as he set the plate down on Tommy’s bedside table. He handed him the water, though, and Tommy hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. 

As he was drinking, one thing came to him. 

“Evan, did you kiss me in the middle of a hospital?” 

Evan’s face went pink. “It wasn’t the middle. More like by the entrance.” 

“Oh.”

“Eat up,” Evan said. “It’s gonna get cold.” 

Tommy took the plate when Evan handed it to him. His first bite of toast made him groan. When he wiped crumbs off his chin, he stopped. Chin. Soot. 

“Soot,” he said.

Evan just laughed. “There’s pictures, don’t worry. Just eat. And then I’ll explain and we can be lazy for the rest of the day. I wasn’t sure if you’d want coffee? I still don’t know how you take it.” 

Tommy chuckled. “No. No coffee.” 

“Okay. But I’ll get you more water, then. Fruit?” 

“Sure, Evan.” 

Tommy didn’t know what to expect. He ate his breakfast with gusto, was glad when Evan reappeared with what appeared to be a bowl of cut up fruit that Tommy wasn’t entirely sure had been in his kitchen and a few bottles of water. And yes, it was definitely Tommy’s shirt.

“Last night—”

“We were both very tired, and you were very sooty and I know from experience you don’t want to go to bed like that. I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I don’t know that you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in your shower. How are you feeling today?” 

“I’m fine. Thank you, Evan. You didn’t overstep.” 

“Good. We’re both off today so unless you want to be alone…how about a movie?” 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever had other partners that cared about him — it was just that Evan did it differently. Like he was trying to find Tommy’s boundaries and electing to respect them despite how much he’d already done the night before and despite staying with Tommy and sleeping in his bed. 

“A movie sounds great,” Tommy said. 

It was much later, after they watched a few movies and Evan ordered them a pizza that he had the thought to check his phone. A lot had come back to him, including the litany of texts he’d received from a drunk Evan and Eddie. He found the voicemail he’d put off listening to and put it on speaker before hitting play while Evan was in the bathroom. 

Music came through first. Eddie’s voice yelling something and then Evan. 

“I like you so so so so much, Tommy. Soooo much.”

“Calling your boyfriend, Buck? Buck? Everyone, Buck has a boyfriend!” The sound of something breaking and then, Eddie again. “His name is Tommy! Say hi to Tommy!” 

A chorus of “hi, Tommy!” shouted by what could only be some kind of drunk crowd. 

“You’re…you’re like a guy…a guy’s guy. Strong. Want to kiss you again and hold your hand. Eddie…Eddie, did you know he has really nice hair? And a cleft chin?”

“Shhhh, Buck’s on phone with boyfriend,” Eddie’s voice came through. 

“Miss you,” Evan said. “Eddie, I’m gonna kiss him.” 

Eddie laughing. “Kiss him!” 

“Like kiss him kiss him with tongue and…and—”

More shouts and then the voicemail cut off. 

Tommy found Evan, face buried in his hands, standing in the doorway.  

“Hey, you did say you were going to kiss me,” Tommy said. “And for the record, I like you so so so so much too.” 

Evan rushed back to Tommy’s bed, crawling from the foot to where Tommy lay. Earlier they’d gotten up to make it up, but they’d been lounging atop the covers in a way that Tommy very rarely did. Evan was on his knees and he leaned over and reached for his face, thumb ending right over the cleft on Tommy’s chin and though he took a moment to stare down at Tommy, it didn’t take long before he was leaning down and they were kissing. Tommy pulled him closer, bringing him down so Buck’s weight rested half on Tommy. Evan hummed into it and when the kiss broke, Evan dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I really do,” Evan said, turning his face so he wasn’t speaking into Tommy’s shirt. 

“What?” 

“Like you.” 

[elliewithcellie]

The Taste of the Divine

summary: reader introduces eddie to Sleep Token's The Summoning (iykyk)

wc: 0.9k

cw: modern!eddie x fem!reader, I'm gonna say 18+ smut adjacent by the end. Its very suggestive lol, reader is called baby a lot, eddie calls reader good girl because it's one of the lyrics, Eddie POV

a/n: the way I revisited this song today and was like eddie should hear this then RAN to my computer to put pen to paper. It was like a fever dream, honestly

Eddie scribbled away in his notebook on the floor of the living room. The TV chattered on. The white noise was useful to him when creating the twists and turns of his campaign. While planning feverishly, it was peaceful to him, something he hadn’t done as often as he would have liked since working full time. He became so lost in his fantasy, he didn’t notice you entering the room.

“Eddie?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice. “Baby, you scared me.” He laughed.

“Eddie, you have to hear this band.” Your tone was insistent. “They’re so metal, I know you’ll love it.”

Eddie chuckled at your seriousness. “Like, metal metal?”

“Yes! I mean, I think so! Come on. I’ll play this one song for you. It’s, like, insane.” You squatted down and started pulling his arm up with you.

“Ok! Ok, I’m coming!” Eddie scrambled up from the floor, trying to gather his bearings, as he fought to catch up with the arm trapped in your hold.

You all but dragged him to your shared bedroom. You jumped into bed, patting the spot next to you. Eddie gladly accepted. He watched as you placed your laptop between the two of you. You typed The Summoning into the search bar.

“Have you heard of Sleep Token before?” you asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Eddie said.

“I really think you’ll like them,” you said, your voice soft.

“I believe you, baby.” Eddie placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

You nodded and clicked play.

The song began with drums and a guitar right up his alley. Instinctually, he found himself nodding his head to the beat. He loved the blend of the singer’s voice with the instruments, all working together in harmony. The scream caught him off guard.

“Oh, that’s metal, baby. For sure,” Eddie turned to you with a grin exposing his excitement. Your eyes stayed on him like you didn’t want to miss a single reaction.

He returned his attention to the screen following along with the lyrics and the rhythm. The guitar solos left his mind wandering, piecing together the technicality, the specific fingerings. He wondered how quickly he could learn this on his own. He smiled to himself. He loved how well you knew him. Even as simple as a song recommendation, he couldn’t help but fall deeper for you, especially when this type of music wasn’t quite your usual genre of choice.

The music began to fade out, and Eddie’s smile grew bigger. “That was really good.”

“It’s not over yet,” you replied, your eyes glued to the screen. “Just wait.”

His eyebrows scrunched together but sat back to listen, you now in his line of sight.

The new soft music juxtaposed what came before, quiet and mysterious. The music swelled, building louder and louder, anticipation gathering in his lungs. He watched you in intrigue and awe as you leaned forward, the anticipation seemingly getting to you, too.

“Oh, and my love Did I mistake you for a sign from God”

The groove shook him to his core. He had never heard anything like it, certainly not in a metal song. It transcended the genre to a new plane. He didn’t want to be dramatic, but this song was changing everything he knew metal could be.

“Or maybe just to turn me on”

Your breathing hitched, stirring Eddie from his musings. You continued staring at the screen, no longer looking to Eddie for approval. He got the sense that this song wasn’t just for him anymore.

“I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man Or maybe make a good girl bad”

He watched as a sigh escaped your lips. Your breathing slowed and your cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

“I’ve got a river running right into you I’ve got a blood trail, red in the blue Something you say or something you do The taste of the divine”

You clutched the comforter. You watched the screen, your pupils dilating with every word spoken. It was a look that was all too familiar to Eddie. A look you gave when the tension between you was too much to bear. A look you only gave him.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“You've got my body, flesh, and bone The sky above, the Earth below Nothing to say and nowhere to go The taste of the divine”

As the song ended, you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “What’d you think?”

Now Eddie was the one staring. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous of them—”

“Jealous?” you asked incredulously. “Corroded Coffin—”

“—for riling up my girlfriend right in front of me,”

Your cheeks rouged, your eyes drifting from his.

He leaned forward, closing the space between you. “or if I should be proud” –Eddie tilted your chin to face him, his lips hovering over yours— “that you got so turned on by a metal song.”

“I—I, I thought you would like it.”

“Oh, I did, baby. I did.” He chuckled. “But my good girl was thinking bad thoughts, wasn’t she?”

A chill ran down your spine.

“You’ve got my body, flesh, and bone, baby,” Eddie said, brushing his lips against your ear. “Now, let me take care of you like the heaven-send you are.”

[ten-shi-fandoms]

Hi hi! I wanted to know if you request are still open. If they are i wanted Wally Darling comfort where reader is having a hard time and wally comforts them

Sure no problem :) this actually made me feel a lot better having a pretty hard past few days so thanks for this request.

_______________________________________

"Everything will be fine"

__________________

Cw: Wally Darling x Reader, gender neutral reader, reader had a bad week, Wally being supportive bf, pre established relationship (dating), kissing (very mild and soft), first person pov, reader cries, minor angst to fluff, tooth rotting fluff, short like Wally-, kinda sucks srry

___________________________________

Why?

Why did everything have to go wrong?

It felt like everything was against you.

Like the world was turned against you.

It all started earlier that week when Howdy asked you to help out around the shop which you happily agreed too. You ended up falling from a stool, dropping all the items you were holding and landing on your hand which caused you to sprain your wrist. Howdy apologised profusely but you reassured him it wasn't his fault that it was yours for not being careful. But things seemed only to get worse.

Later that week you went to help Sally with one of her plays only to forget all your lines during the performance. Sally told you it was fine and that the play was still fun especially when you both had to improvise but it left a sour taste in your mouth. You almost burnt the cookies you were baking with Poppy. Almost fell out a tree while watching butterflies with Frank. Almost made Eddie fall after tripping over your own feet. And even dropped fruit punch all over yourself when you were setting up for a tea party with Barnaby and Julie.

It was like the world hated you. Like it was out to get you just for existing. Tears gathered in your eyes as you sat on a couch in Wally's house. Wally had invited you over a few minutes ago to have a painting date. Mainly he would paint and you would pose. It was always a lovely arrangement but the events of the week begun to make your emotions act up forcing tears out of your eyes. Tears slowly slipped down your cheeks as you choked back a sob.

As more tears fell down your now wet cheeks you heard footsteps walk into the room and closer to your area. You didn't have to wonder who it was when you felt arms wrap around your shoulders. Wally said nothing as he held you, allowing your body to shake with each sob that racked your body. You heard Wally hum gently. He was humming "Beautiful Dreamer" a song Barnaby had introduced him too. It always seemed that Wally loved that song often humming it to you or singing it to Home.

The soft sound of Wally's humming alongside a gentle hand rubbing through your hair helped you calm down a bit. You were still a mess. Your eyes red and puffy, tears still rolling down your face onto Wally's cardigan, (h/c) haid stuck to your face but your breathing was a bit more steady and you weren't sobbing as much. Wally gently leaned you back, just enough to roll his sleeve down wiping the tears from your face even as new ones fell with such gentleness you felt like you were going to melt.

"Everything will be okay." his soft voice rang through your ears as you stared at his half lidded eyes. He gazed at you like you were something so precious that he couldn't look away. You could feel the warmth in his eyes. The love that constantly swirled around in dark iris everytime you looked at him. Before you could speak Wally leaned forward placing a soft kiss against your lips. More tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him as close to you as you could. You felt Wally smile at against you before he pulled back. His eyes were glossy like he was in a daze. A expression you had come to love.

"No more crying now, I don't want the apple of my eye to become soggy" he teased, placing gentle kisses against your cheeks and under your eyes effectively kissing away your tears. You couldn't help but giggle. The soft kisses, the corny joke, the warmth that Wally provided all of it made you feel better. You always felt better in Wally's arms. He made you feel safe and loved with little effort. It was one of his many charms. You sniffled a bit, a small broken sob leaving your quivering lips. "Okay.. No more crying." you muttered, your voice hoarse. Wally smiled once more, the warmth that seeped out of his smile warming your heart from the inside out.

"Good, now go wipe your face. I'm only going to paint my lovely honeycrisp if their smiling." you smiled at the apple themed nickname nodding as you got up walking off to get cleaned up. As you were walking you heard Home make a few creaking noises and Wally sigh.

"I know Home, (Y/N) is beautiful even when they cry."

[bilbosmom-belladonna]

I wrote this for @steddiesongfics' July challenge!

Also on AO3.

Make Me Weak

Length: 1000 words | Rating: T (for language) | CW: Infidelity, Eddie Munson/OFC | Tags: Future Fic, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Established Relationship, Eddie POV

The song is Lips of an Angel by Hinder (no one ever said it had to be a good song) and the included lyric is "Honey, why you calling me so late?"

Eddie stumbled in the front door laughing, his arm tight around Ally’s waist as she leaned on him, giggling.

“Okay, okay,” she gasped out, “you were right. Next time we’ll get a town car.”

Eddie grinned as they took off their jackets. “I told you.” He pulled her close to him, leaning down for a kiss that became filthy fast. He trailed kisses down her throat as she squirmed in his arms. “I believe I was promised something very fancy under this dress,” he muttered against her skin.

Ally hummed low. “Yup,” she agreed, “it’s a special occasion.”

Eddie lifted up his head to answer when the phone rang.

“Ugh, who’s calling at this hour?” Ally grumbled as Eddie let go of her to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?” he said, a little impatiently.

“Hey man, I need to borrow you for a minute,” Steve said on the other end.

Eddie frowned. “Can it wait? Not a good time,” he said, watching as Ally took off her heels and headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope, gotta be right now,” Steve replied firmly.

“Shit, okay, give me a second,” Eddie said. He pressed the hold button. “Gotta take this,” he called down the hallway. “I’m gonna be in my office. Five minutes, I promise!”

“It better be!” Ally called back. “Or I’ll get started without you!”

Eddie laughed and took the cordless phone with him into his office. He shut the door and—hesitating for just a second—locked it too. He transferred the call to his second line and sat down at his desk.

“Honey, why are you calling me so late?” he asked Steve.

“Like you weren’t awake,” Steve grumbled. He sounded a little off. “Come over.”

Eddie sighed. “I can’t,” he replied. “It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, an anniversary?” Steve asked sarcastically. “This one made it a whole year, huh? That hasn’t happened in a while.”

Eddie didn’t answer, just rubbed his eyes tiredly. He fiddled with the three Grammy statues on the shelf above his desk, pushing them into a straighter line.

“What about our anniversary, huh?” Steve went on. He was slurring his words a little. “Twelve years! Beat that, Anna.”

Twelve years was a hell of a lot longer than any of Eddie’s other relationships had lasted. Maybe relationship wasn’t even the right word—they had started fucking sometime during the band’s first Midwest tour in 1988 and never really stopped.

“Our anniversary is next month,” Eddie said quietly. “I’m taking you to the Bahamas, remember?” He sighed again. “Are you drunk, baby?”

“So what if I am?” Steve said belligerently. “You’re not here, I can be drunk if I wanna.”

Eddie sat back in his chair. He was three years sober, his best stint to date; Steve had always been supportive, especially after Eddie had fallen off stage a few years ago. He didn’t drink when Eddie was with him, especially when they were out on tour. It made for quieter nights after the shows ended but they were getting into their 30s now anyway, partying hard had lost some of its appeal. And they could make a night-in pretty fun, just the two of them.

The nice thing about fucking your manager, Eddie had always thought, was that he could get them adjoining rooms when he booked the hotels

“I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight, sweetheart,” Eddie said into the phone. “But I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can find time to get a hotel next week.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve sniped, “go back to your girlfriend, asshole.”

“Last I checked,” Eddie said, a little annoyed, “you had a girlfriend too.”

“Ha!” Steve cried. “Check again, dickhead,” he slurred.

Well, that explained it. “You and Michelle broke up?” Eddie asked.

“Fuckin’—yeah,” Steve grumbled. Eddie could hear glass clinking in the background. “We had a big fight after I got home last month and it never really ended.” He sighed, crackling through the phone line. “She was sick of me traveling so much.”

“You could have brought her on tour,” Eddie offered reluctantly.

“Fuck that,” Steve snapped back. “When the fuck would I ever see you if she was there?”

There was some rustling, then a clatter and Steve cursed distantly, far away from the phone. Eddie leaned his elbows on the desk and rubbed his free hand over the back of his head.

“Baby,” he said. More clattering on the other end. “Baby?”

“—eah, I’m here,” Steve finally said.

“I gotta go, honey,” Eddie said gently.

Steve made a pathetic noise. “I miss you,” he whined. “I hate being home.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “I miss you too.”

“I love you,” Steve said. He sniffled a little.

Eddie closed his eyes. “I love you too, baby.” And he did. For all the ups and downs of the last twelve years, the fame and the travel, the girlfriends and the fights, the awards and the secrets, loving Steve had never been hard.

It was just never simple.

“Get some sleep, honey,” Eddie said softly. “Drink some water. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Steve hummed and mumbled something, then there was a click and the dial tone. Eddie hung up the phone, stood up, and took a long, slow breath. He left his office and headed toward the bedroom.

“Sorry about that, gorgeous,” he said loudly as he approached. “Steve had some questions about tour dates.”

“That man works too hard,” Ally called from the bathroom. “You should send him on vacation.”

“That’s a great idea, babe,” Eddie said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “But I don’t want to talk about Steve right now.”

“Mmm, me either,” Ally said as she exited the bathroom. She was wearing lingerie, a lacy red and black number that had Eddie’s fingers itching to get his hands all over her. “Happy anniversary,” Ally said, looping her arms around his neck and stepping in close.

Eddie smiled. “Happy anniversary,” he replied as he leaned down to kiss her.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 24 - Behind the Scenes

Summary: A decade into their careers, Corroded Coffin answers the ever-present question: what makes good music?

Word Count: 983

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Older!Corroded Coffin, Set sometime in the 2000s, 1st Person POV, News Article, Reference to Day 23 Up and Coming, friendship

Note: Thank you to the wonderful @br0ck-eddie for the beta read

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Cracking Open the Lid - Behind the Scenes with Corroded Coffin By Alex McCall

What makes great music?

I'm talking really great music.

The kind that inspires sold out shows and screaming audiences and a chart-topping album that's gonna win an award sooner rather than later.

Is it good lyrics? Something you can dance to? Die-hard fans? Maybe it's a little bit of everything, especially after a decade of slogging through bars and opening acts for bands that aren't as good and day jobs because gigs don't pay enough for the gas to get you to the next show?

Well, that's what Indiana-native Corroded Coffin attributes to their success.

"We got lucky," guitarist Eddie Munson insists as I join them backstage before their sold out Chicago show. "A thousand bands work hard and deserve to be here, work just as hard as we did but it truly is luck."

"We rolled a Nat 20," drummer Gareth Emerson adds, earning a laugh from the whole band. An inside joke for sure, but their history with Dungeons and Dragons isn't much of a secret if you've listened to their music at all in the past.

It's not every day that you get to cover a story about a band you "discovered" a decade ago, but here I am nonetheless. I passed countless fans lined up outside of the arena and chatted with a few of them. Stories range from hearing them open for Metallica a few years ago to someone who'd never heard of the band until they won tickets at work and became fast fans.

One of them asks when I first heard of Corroded Coffin, and I tell them, almost a little smugly, that I saw them playing live on St. Patty's Day at Cork and Kerry back in '90.

I tell the boys about it too--I'm allowed to call them the boys now--and they immediately dive into reminiscing.

"Was that the time," frontman Jeff Franklin can't stop laughing, "that Davey drank so much green beer he projectile vomited over the crowd at the end?"

"No!" Bassist Dave Nelson protects his honor. "That was the time someone threw a bra at you and you decided to wear it as a hat."

It was neither of those times.

No, this was the time Eddie decided to try crowdsurfing and landed flat on his face.

"Seriously you were there for that and you decided to come see us play again?" Eddie goans.

But it was that gumption that put them on my radar and made me want to see what a bunch of idiot kids from Indiana--kids like me, a transplant from Fort Wayne--had to bring to the table.

And it's been a rollercoaster ever since.

Since my first article about these guys, they've been everywhere man. Literally. Across the US, on tour after tour after tour. They recorded an original song for a major motion picture. They had their shot acting as extras in a movie too.

"That, uh," Dave shakes his head vigorously, "we don't talk about that, actually."

"First and last acting credit," Gareth agrees.

"Didn't you play Romeo back in high school though?" Jeff teases him.

It's this camaraderie that punctuates my time with them. I'm immediately laughing at all of their jokes, I'm folded into the intimacy of their group. And it isn't exclusive to my interview; this is the energy that they bring to the stage every night. It's what they've always done, ever since that first performance I witnessed and, I'm sure, every performance since.

And yeah I could talk about how they give me a tour of the green room and all of their snacks and the required video game console because Gare is almost done beating Legend of Zelda 2. Or their tour bus and Eddie's stuffed animal collection.

But it's their friendship that is the shining beacon of the band.

Always has been.

I ask if they fight much.

"Always" they say in tandem.

"Bickering like an old married couple," Eddie elaborates. "But I guess we are sort of married to one another. Lifelong commitments and all that."

I try to ask if any of them are married, but the band is notoriously private. (They told me, because I'm one of the guys now, I'm just not allowed to write about it.)

But private lives aside does that mean the band breaking up is completely off the table?

"I'm sure we'll retire at some point," Jeff offers. "Ed's knees are giving out."

"He's the old man of the group," Gareth snickers.

Something is thrown across the greenroom and hits the drummer in the head. A pillow. It starts some kind of pillow fight slash food fight between them all, and I even get in on some of the action with a well-aimed barrage of M&Ms of my own.

In hindsight I feel bad for the people who have to clean that up. I would offer some sort of compensation but the band famously pays their venue teams very well.

Someone calls a truce and we wrap up the interview.

I get to have my fanatical moment, showing off some of the articles and ticket stubs I've brought along with, as well as an old autographed polaroid that I've had at my desk for years.

I'm only a few years older than they are, and the way I've followed their career has been more like an older cousin hoping they make it big than anything. I've listened to their good songs and their bad, but I've never given up on them. None of their fans really have.

"We appreciate it man," Jeff nods and all of the guys have tears in their eyes as they agree. "It's all for you guys. And for each other. But for the fans? Always."

So what makes great music? I ask them.

And once again in tandem, I get my answer. But I guess I didn't need to ask them to know.

"Friendship."

[rainbow-nerdss]

I want to see the 118s perspective of the drunken confessions from black out so bad 😭

HELLO ANON I LOVE YOU FOR THIS. SO MUCH LOVE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. This has been sitting here in my inbox for a while because I wanted to do it justice, but I had SO MUCH FUN working on this! I present: Chimney's POV of that whole situation from my fic Blackout (3k, E) I may have gotten caught up in my Madney/Dad!Chimney feels for a while there, but who can blame me?

Chimney has always loved having Halloween off work, glad to avoid the crazies, but it's even better now he's a dad, especially now Jee's old enough to have fun with her costumes, and to understand what Trick-or-treating is all about.

He gets to dress up with her, a whole-family pirate ensemble, to pose while Buck snaps way more pictures than necessary of the three of them, and to take her door-to-door around the neighborhood. 

And, after getting Jee-Yun in bed, he heads to Hen's for the grown-up party. 

Buck takes a detour on the way, to pick up Eddie and see Christopher before his first teenage Halloween party. Those are days Chimney isn't looking forward to—when Jee is old enough to prefer spending time with her friends than her parents, when she won't climb on his back and pose for a dozen pictures as they wear matching costumes.

He hopes she never grows out of this.

When Eddie and Buck arrive at the bar together, they're walking in step with each other, Eddie mid-laugh at something Buck has said. Eddie heads straight for the bar, while Buck stands for a moment, watching him before making his way to the booth where Chimney is sitting with Hen, Bobby and Ravi.

Everyone's in a good mood today, it seems, as they order rounds of drinks: beer and whiskey and cocktails. Hen is pacing herself more, but Chimney is pleasantly buzzed, verging on drunk. He's nothing compared to Buck and Eddie, though. They're both pink-cheeked and laughing, pressed together in the booth, practically in each other’s laps.

Bobby makes his excuses just after eleven, telling them all to have a good night, and to stay safe.

“Aww, c’mon Cap! Stay a while longer!” Buck protests, leaning over Eddie to reach for Bobby. Chimney catches the way Eddie’s cheeks turn pink as he looks anywhere but at the denim-clad Buck in his lap.

Bobby shoots a look at Hen, raising his eyebrow. She nods.

So, great, Chim isn’t the only one seeing this.

“Sorry, Buck. Athena’s waiting up for me. I’ll see you at work, okay?”

Buck pouts and reaches for the dregs of his last drink, barely shifting out of Eddie’s lap.

“Twenty bucks says it happens tonight,” Chim whispers, sliding back into the booth next to Hen.

“Those idiots? They’ve been like this for weeks now!” Ravi argues. “I’ll take those odds.”

Hen shakes her head. “They’ve been like this for years. Stop wasting your—” but Hen cuts herself off as Eddie takes out his phone, checks a message and shows it to Buck, whose expression turns ridiculously soft as he drops his head onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“Huh,” Hen says, narrowing her eyes at them. “Honestly, you might have a point, Chim. This isn’t their usual dance. Here’s how it’s gonna go—”

Chim orders a round of shots while Hen draws up the bet in her notes app. 

“This is the last drink we buy for them,” Hen insists. “Otherwise, it gets weird, morally speaking.”

“Agreed,” Chim and Ravi both chime in, and they all shake on it, then down their shots. Buck and Eddie don’t even break eye contact as they drink the shots, but a moment later Eddie is scrambling out of the booth, pulling Buck with him.

“I love this song!” he yells.

And Buck follows him, eyes wide in a way that Chimney wishes wasn’t the exact same expression Maddie gets sometimes, right before they fall into bed together.

He’s going to have to drink a lot to forget that sight, but at least he’s definitely gonna win that bet.

He loses them for a while, getting another drink, showing Ravi the trick-or-treating photos again: “Look at this one!” he coos, showing yet another picture of Jee. “She was looking for the treasure!” 

He only snaps back to the moment when Hen smacks him on the arm, and he looks up, following her eyes to where Buck and Eddie are dancing. The song’s different, but they’re closer than before—Eddie’s hand is on Buck’s chest, Buck’s on Eddie’s waist, and that is probably the most intense eye contact Chimney’s ever seen—and he’s seen Ravi and Lucy attempt to communicate telepathically during a long shift with very few calls. 

“It’s happening,” he whispers. “Hen, come dance with me!”

He takes her arm, and pulls her within earshot of Buck and Eddie—trying and failing to be subtle, but it doesn’t make any difference for all the attention they’re paying to anything but each other. 

“—really pretty,” Buck says, expression dazed.

Eddie blinks at him. “Pretty?” he asks. Buck nods, touching the corner of Eddie’s eye, letting his hand rest there.

Eddie swallows, and Chim squeezes Hen’s arm as Eddie leans in, then muffles a curse as he pauses. He glances over and sees Ravi preening at the edge of the dance floor, but then Buck is pulling Eddie in, and yes, yes there it is!

“They’re kissing!” Chim cheers as quietly as he can, practically jumping for joy while Hen tries to get him to stop. Chim shakes her off, then holds his hand up in the shape of an L, directing it at Ravi, who rolls his eyes.

“I love you,” Chim hears Eddie say, and he whips his head back around to them. 

“You—Eddie. Really?” 

“Of course I do, Buck. God, of course I do.”

Buck pulls Eddie close, burying his face in his neck. The smile on his face is familiar to Chimney: it’s the same one he knows he wears each and every time he looks at Maddie. 

“I love you too,” Buck says. “So much. I…you know, you and Christopher, I think I’d be happy if I did nothing but sit in your house and make pancakes for you both for the rest of forever.”

“Buck, oh my god,” Eddie chuckles, while Chimney pretends to gag at the sincerity. “You know, having nothing but pancakes would probably not be healthy,” Eddie points out, but Chimney can hear the fondness, the love in his voice.

“Don’t care. Not if it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

“Good. C’mere,” Buck says, and it’s all the warning they give before Eddie goes in for another kiss, and this is not the type of kiss Chim wants to see his future brother-in-law, the uncle to his beautiful daughter, engage in, but there’s really no avoiding how much he just goes for it. 

“Fuck.” 

Chimney hears Eddie’s low growl before he’s, thankfully, pulled away by Hen, back to where Ravi is waiting, trying to maintain a scowl over the smile that’s clearly fighting to break free on his face.

“Alright, well, pay up!” Chimney announces, resolutely not looking up to where Buck and Eddie are practically mauling each other on the dance floor—more than five years of sexual tension all trying to resolve itself at once.

He holds out his hand while Ravi grumbles. “Who even carries cash anymore? Can I just venmo you?” 

Chimney rolls his eyes. “Sure, fine, whatever. But you will be held accountable for this, got it?”

There’s a crash to his right, and he turns to see Buck, grinning, out of breath and red in the face. “We’re uh, we’re gonna head out.”

Eddie pops up behind him, mouth latching on to the side of Buck’s neck from behind, eyes hazy in a way that Chim tells himself is just from the alcohol but he knows is probably something beyond that. 

“Get home safe, boys!” Hen tells them. They back off, making their way to the door before Chimney calls after them.

“And be safe in the other way, too!” he yells, earning him a chiding slap on the arm from Hen. He grins. “I think our loser ought to buy the next round of drinks, don’t you, Hen?”

He sticks his tongue out at Ravi, who rolls his eyes, grumbles, but still gets up to order another round.

Chimney doesn’t stay too much longer after that. He orders an uber for himself, and Hen and Ravi both follow him out. He’s the first one dropped off, and he stands on the curb outside his house for a moment, smiling at the little garden, the front door with the lopsided pumpkin he’d carded with Jee, the little bats and spider decorations they’d hung together. 

There’s a light on in their bedroom, which means Maddie’s still awake—probably reading or watching a show in bed. Chimney does a little skip on his way up the porch steps. 

He has so much to tell her.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

i really want a fic of eddie realising him and buck have been falling in love the entire time.

I keep seeing posts (and even had someone tell me) that it’d be unrealistic for Eddie to be in love with Buck and not realise. Like not even think of him as an option. 

But that’s such a real queer person thing- i’ve lived that experience. I’m a women and despite all the times I admired other women it took forever for it to click for me.

I mean I grew up with accepting parents and kind friends and even queer people on tv. I remember looking at girls as much as I looked at boys. And yet I still had the reoccurring thought “I could be gay, I mean i’m not- but I could be. But most people aren’t gay and i’m most people”. (gay being used here in my head to mean “not straight”) AND YET despite it all I didn’t realise i was Bi until I was much older.

And even then, I’d had at least two long term crushes without realising they were crushes before it clicked. 

(I kid you not- it took a drag queen talking to me like i was a toddler for it to click, but that’s a whole other story SO-) 

Whether or not Eddie already knows he’s gay (or demi or whatever) doesn’t really make a difference, cause it’s that same sort of heteronormative internalising that causes these feeling to not be understood. 

Especially for Eddies character who’s had this messy norm with Shannon for so long, a stable thing to grasp (even when their relationship was a mess) and then her death and him chasing to find that weak grasp to SOMETHING again- something that can be another excuse to not go looking for himself. 

Like he’s internalised this behaviour of, “if i’m in a relationship, I don’t have to look deep and figure out why it’s not working” and never quite realising that maybe the reason it’s not working is cause he’s trying to replace something that was never really real.

(Speaking of, Eddie and Shannon are the epitome of loml by taylor swift. I mean- “we were just kids babe” “from one kiss to getting married” “something counterfeits dead” “what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye” “i’m combing through the band of lies- “i’ll never leave” never mind”) 

babe you are speaking to the POSTER CHILD of raised in a religious household and convinced themselves they weren’t queer until it was staring them in the face

the biggest issue is that most (again i said most before yall try to jump down my throat) of the people who are against buddie are either straight people who don’t understand the nuances of queerness, or queer people who didn’t grow up in environments of oppression and have never felt the need to hide themselves

i used to tell my parents i had crushes on girls only to later realize that it was because i just had a genuine platonic connection with them (two of whom are my best friends and are also queer women) and i used to get confused about what the difference between attraction and admiration was— something a LOT of queer people go through without realizing.

comphet is literally such a widespread phenomenon that people truly don’t realize just how common it is— like even queer people don’t realize they probably know several “straight” people who are still lying to themselves bc sexuality isn’t black and white— it exists on a spectrum. I’m not saying that to invalidate anyone’s straightness, im just saying i know multiple men who are my dads age (60s +) who only recently came to the realization that they were gay.

it’s genuinely so disappointing to see some of the people in this fandom pushing homophobic talking points from history just to disprove a character’s implied queerness bc they view that character’s queerness as a threat to their ship.

anyway, i agree eddie and shannon’s relationship is soooooo unconscious lavender marriage coded to me and there are SO MANY beautiful TS lyrics that apply to that… another song that i really feel like captures Eddie’s pov of the relationship is Home by One Direction… especially these lyrics:

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

(Ok so this one is like, twice the size of the others, so be warned 😂 but we’re finished! That is… if there’s nothing else y’all want to see. Let me know!)

Eddie is fucking insatiable. Ever since that night, he’s been all over Steve.

Steve fucking loves it.

He loves how Eddie’s first reflex is to grab his hand when they get in the car. He loves Eddie’s fingers drumming over Steve’s thigh to the beat of the song as he drives. He loves the kisses to his hands, his knuckles, his cheeks and temples and nose.

He even loves the bites.

They’re sitting on the couch the first time it happens. Steve’s all but sitting in Eddie’s lap as they watch a movie. He knows Eddie’s watching him more than the movie. He’s maybe more okay with it than he should be.

Suddenly Eddie turns, leans down, and gently bites Steve’s shoulder. Steve jumps, already laughing as he turns to ask, “The hell was that?”

Eddie just shrugs. Doesn’t look even vaguely repentant. “You’re very biteable.”

Steve blinks. “Biteable.”

“Yeah.”

Steve blinks again, then starts laughing, leaning in to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re so fucking weird.” It sounds like I love you.

Eddie just grins. “Says the one dating the freak.” It sounds like I love you too.

After that, Eddie bites him all the time. Never hard, never enough to leave a mark (at least, not where it would be visible), but all the time.

A small chomp on his cheek when he passes by, just because he can. A nip at Steve’s finger when he’s teasing, poking at Eddie’s face or hair. His earlobe when he comes up behind Steve as he’s cooking or doing the dishes, threading his hands around Steve’s waist. A scrape of teeth on the tip of Steve’s nose, just to make him smile.

Steve loves it. Loves him. Loves how insufferable they’ve become to their friends (and, admittedly, they do play it up a bit, but the kids deserve it).

They tell Wayne, who of course clocked it before they did. He’s nothing but supportive, especially after he hears how them sleeping together (“Just sleeping, I swear.” “Well…” “Eds, you’re not helping right now.”) helps with the nightmares.

Robin is nothing but supportive, of course, “As long as I’m still your best friend.”

“Of course you are, Robs,” Steve says.

Eddie grins. “I know I can’t fight for that position. It’s all yours, Birdie.”

Surprisingly enough, what Steve might love most are the nicknames. Eddie has nicknames for everyone, of course, but Steve gets a little thrill from hearing his.

There’s Stevie, of course. Basically a classic at this point. There’s honey, babe, baby. But the one he really likes, the one Eddie knows is his favorite, is sunshine.

It gets to the point Eddie calls him Steve one day, and they both freeze because of how wrong it feels. “Stevie,” he corrects. “Baby. Sunshine.”

“Shut up,” Steve grouses, but he’s smiling, wide and unrepentant.

Stevie is an everyday type of nickname, one that Steve answers to more than his actual name at this point. Honey is sweet, and it always gives Steve a little thrill because it sounds like the type of pet name an old married couple would use. Babe is more sarcastic, more teasing, but still loving. Baby is more serious; whispered into shoulders when one of them wakes with a start, or into hair when one of them starts to doze off on the couch.

Sunshine is special, and Steve can’t quite clock what about it is so different, but it is. It sets his heart to fluttering, and he can’t help the shy grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His fingers twitch in Eddie’s direction every time, and damn that man, he knows what he does to Steve.

Steve fucking loves it.

There are nights they try to spend apart, because they’re at least self-aware enough to know they probably shouldn’t be so codependent. At least not yet. So they try, and sometimes it works, but never for more than a few nights. It just feels wrong, without the other there, they don’t sleep as well, and as soon as Eddie’s wrapping his arms around Steve in one of their beds after some such period, he’s sighing into the back of Steve’s neck, squeezing slightly before relaxing and humming, “Hey, Sunshine.”

Steve’s fingers dig into the back of Eddie’s hands. “Hi.” He wiggles back until they’re pressed together as tight as they can be. Knows Eddie wants it, but will never take the initiative. “Missed you.”

A laugh ghosts over the back of his neck, followed by a kiss. “Missed you too.”

The day after one such period, Wayne calls Steve and Eddie for a meeting. “I’m not one to beat around the bush, so I’m just gonna say it. And you know I’m not the best with emotion, so don’t toy with me, boy,” he threatens, pointing a finger at Eddie, who nods. “Good. You two are it for each other. I dunno if what I can’t ask about means soulmates are real or some shit, but even if not, you two are the real deal. Now, you’ll always be my boy, Eddie. But you’re growing up. Hell, you’re grown. I think it’s time you two had a serious sit-down and figured out what the hell you want from each other.”

Because Eddie’s smart, his brows furrow. “Are- are you kicking me out?”

Wayne sees Steve stiffen slightly, sees him reach over for Eddie’s hand. Sees Eddie let him. “Hell no, boy, you’ve gotta home here for as long as you want it, and I’d even invite your boy to move in if we had the room. But we don’t. Hence the conversation that you need to have.”

Steve turns to Eddie. “Remind me to never introduce him and Robin.”

“Oh God,” Eddie says, and laughs.

They talk—a lot—and come to the same conclusion Wayne had. Eddie moves in properly a few days later, walks in with the key he’d accidentally pocketed the night it all changed. They convert a bedroom into a music room for Eddie, all hard surfaces to write on and soft rugs and bean-bag chairs to collapse on.

Eddie attempts dinner that night and almost kills Steve. “Lies. Lies and slander.”

Steve’s still giggling, even as he’s leaning in for a kiss. “Death by laugher is still death, babe.”

“It’s not funny!”

“It really, really is.”

“It was supposed to be spaghetti!”

“Oh my god,” Steve says, and bursts into laughter again. “We’re ordering pizza tonight. Tomorrow we’ll cook together.”

Eddie sheepishly pulls their Important Phone Numbers Book out, flips to the name of their typical pizzeria. Hands Steve the phone, already ringing, as he turns to wash the dishes.

He pauses, hands sudsy, Steve behind him on the phone trying to fix whatever the fuck he did, light and happy and laughter-filled, and he just has to pause, has to turn around and stare at Steve until he hangs up. “What?”

He wants to say I know you. Wants to say I know how to help when you get a migraine, have a nightmare, have a bad day. I know you. And you know me, know how I think, why I act the way I do, and this is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with anyone and it should scare me but doesn’t.

Instead he says, “Nothing,” shrugs, then smiles, and he’s sure all his love is pouring from his eyes. Sure Steve can read everything he didn’t say. “Just love you, is all. And I still can’t really believe this is real.”

Steve smiles, moves to press their foreheads together, moves to steal a quick kiss. “I love you too. And this is real. I swear.” It’s a big thing, Eddie hears. But it’s just us.

And with the unsaid echoing between them, Eddie turns back to the sink.

Eddie’s POV

Taglist:

@thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @the-redthread @tiny-enthusiast @thatonepotatochild @maya-custodios-dionach @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @vhelt @newtstabber @huskysarelife @singmeyoursimpsong @gaysonthefloor @darkwitchoferie @vi-an-te @kato-hoeven @biatcgh @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @awesomeimportantfan @oreos-ate-my-balls @theotalksalot @raysreads

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Week 1 Masterlist

Week one is done and you guys have been doing an incredible job! Whether you pre-wrote and scheduled posts or have been writing every single day, you deserve a hug and forehead kiss!

Please check below for the full masterlist of week one. Check the tags on them (especially for Came Back Wrong day, that was a heck of a round of submissions) and don't forget to support writers and artists by reblogging their work!

DAY 1 - OPEN MIC NIGHT

a bit of tear inducing nerd music by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: modern au, fluff, lotr references, steve harrington can sing, smitten!eddie munson, nerd!steve harrington

your heart sings to mine by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: alcohol, implied/referenced recreational drug use | tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, love confessions in the rain

You Say Bark, I Say Bite by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language, smoking | tags: pre-s4, pre-steddie, platonic stobin, corroden coffin

checking it twice by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: coffee shop au, modern setting, established relationship

Untitled by @redlegumes | Rated T | no cw | tags: open mic, karaoke, queer bar, holiday season, Christmas

A song for the night by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: pre-steddie

I want you to want me by @sidekick-hero | Rated T | no cw | tags: exes, open but hopeful ending

open mic by @yellowsweater-bluevest (art)

DAY 2 - CAME BACK WRONG

beautiful in all its wrongness by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | cw: kas!eddie, angst, self-sacrificing steve | tags: one-sided crush (or is it?)

hide away by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: mentions of blood, canon-typical violence | tags: vampire eddie munson, emotional reunion, soul bond

sometimes dead is better by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: canon death, monster!eddie, body horror | tags: horror, hurt/no comfort, dark, pet sematary vibes, dead dove:do no eat, post-s4, steve pov

Untitled by @redlegumes | Rated T | no cw | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, found family, christmas cards, holiday cards, return to sender

In the ruins by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: apocalypse, off-screen character death, imprisonment, body horror, blood and gore, hurt/no comfort, starvation, vampirism | tags: darkfic, came back wrong, vecna won, unreliable narrator

Break it first by just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated M | cw: mind-control, brainwashing, possessive behavior, referenced character death, aftermath of trauma, aftermath of injury, kidnapping | tags: kas!eddie munson, dark eddie munson

a small surprise by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: steve has bad parents, diet culture | tags: de-aged steve harrington

peppermint chocolate by @cranberrymoons | Rated M | no cw | tags: vampire eddie, morning fluff, established relationship

disoriented and afraid by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: major character death, vampire eddie, dark, dead dove: do not eat | tags: post-s4

ruins of a future once held sure by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | cw: major injury | tags: hurt eddie munson, angst, grief, injury recovery, hopeful ending, pre-steddie, post-vecna

let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one by @sidekick-hero | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, first kiss, kas!eddie

his lips still blue by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: hypothermia, supposed character death | tags: established relationship, supernatural/horror vibes

DAY 3 - MUTUAL PINING

Pining for the Fjords by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | no cw | tags: matchmaker robin, monty python references, getting together, kissing, bisexual steve harrington, eddie munson lives

if you call me back by steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | cw: angst with a happy ending, mention of being drunk | tags: mutual pining, long distance friends, friends to lovers

Loving from afar by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: mutual pining, pre-steddie

Obviously by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: brief period-typical internalized homophobia | tags: dual pov, post-season 4, idiots in love, just make a move already, platonic stobin, eddie and gareth are best friends

Take my hand (we'll make it, i swear) by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated G | cw: steve getting vecna'd, some violent imagery | tags: idiots in love, fluff and angst

speak a little louder by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, flirting, nerds in a basement

Stolen Pine by @redlegumes | Rated E | no cw | tags: idiots in love, pining, christmas tree without glasses, light theft

DAY 4 - MEET CUTE AT WORK

stumbling into you by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: sexual innuendo, semi-public handsy making out | tags: making out, getting together, rock star eddie munson, modern au

Art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Punch me out by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | cw: Blowjobs, dirty talk, slight degradation kink | tags: no UD au, company christmas party, bathroom sex

Get a Grip on Yourself, Munson by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | no cw | tags: transfem stevie harrington, trasnmasc eddie munson, dad eddie munson, everyone's bi, fluff, flirting

Baby, You Can Drive My Car by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: weed, language | tags: mechanic!eddie, business guy!steve, fluffy meet cute

Cats know best by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | cw: mention of animal injury and amputation | tags: pre-steddie

hey sweetheart by @cranberrymoons | Rated E | no cw | tags: modern au, line cook eddie, waiter steve, hooking up

There can only be one Santa driving a DeLorean by @redlegumes | Rated T | no cw | tags: mechanic au, matching sweaters, bad flirting

Love Over Box Labels by @klausinamarink | Rated G | no cw | tags: modern au, no Upside Down, the romanticisms of working at warehouses

DAY 5 - FREE SPACE (DOMESTIC FLUFF)

never take it for granted, this domestic bliss by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: domestic fluff, singing, baking

won't ever learn by steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | no cw | tags: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, steddie dads

The biggest, brightest, gaudiest display in all of Indiana by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | cw: one slight mention of PTSD | tags: Post-Vecna, everybody lives, pining, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, christmas

A Solid Plan by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: sexual content | tags: established relationship, teamwork makes the dream work, if you build it: he will come, idiots in love, silly sex mishaps, first apartment, flat pack furniture

the scrooge who stole christmas by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw

Breakfast in bed by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff

DAY 6 - COOKING TOGETHER

powdered sugar nose by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: food as a way to flirt, allusions to sex, fade to black sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, subtle praise kink

Art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Hungry for you by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: sexually explicit language | tags: No UD AU, modern au, record shop owner!eddie, restaurant owner!steve, sexual tension, top steve, bottom eddie

Mixing it up (Moving us on) by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | cw: alcohol and drug use, implied chronic pain/illness, angst | tags: fluff

Catch Fire by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | no cw | tags: established relationship, idiots in love, first home, cooking mishaps

Life lesson: Never share a kitchen. by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: angst, ambiguous ending

have a cup(cake) of cheer by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: future fic, rockstar eddie, teacher steve, evil pta moms

Tradition by @maxinemaxmayfield | Rated T | no cw | tags: first kiss, post-s4, getting together, friends to lovers

and they dance by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: domestic fluff, established steddie

Crepes and Cake Batter by @klausinamarink | Rated G | cw: post-domestic argument | tags: stress baking, hurt/comfort, sad steve

DAY 7 - HANUKKAH

the fifth night by steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | no cw | tags: non-practicing jewish eddie, getting together, first kiss, flirting

You Know Why by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | no cw | tags: canon divergence post-s4, eddie munson lives, gift giving, mutual attraction, flirting and wooing

Kindling the light by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: jewish steve harrington

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Just Have to Feel It

Day #9 - Prompt: The Hideout | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: Getting Started, First Gig at The Hideout

"I'm fourteen," Gareth says, stressing that last part, just in case they've all forgotten.

"Yeah, we're all well aware of that, kid," Eddie answers, smirking.

And that's not a problem? Fourteen-year-olds don't go to bars. Not even in small towns. It's just not done.

"And that's not a problem, you don't think?" Gareth asks aloud, looking at the rest of them. They're all kids. Maybe Eddie isn't, but the rest of them are. And they are never, ever gonna pass for over eighteen. Jeff has braces, for fuck's sake.

"Lou said he'd look the other way as long as we don't do anything stupid. Stay away from the booze and the bar floor, and we can play on Tuesday. As a tryout, I guess," Eddie says.

His mom is never gonna go for this. Mama Jones is cool, but she's not allow her middle schooler in a bar, especially not on a weeknight, cool. Gareth damn well knows that without even asking.

Well, he was wrong and now his mom is sitting near the edge of the cobbled together stage at The Hideout. Holy shit. They're actually getting ready to do it. They're gonna play for an actual crowd. A small crowd. A very, very small crowd of about a dozen drunks that keep booing them and heckling. before they've even heard anything. This might have been a terrible idea, Gareth is pretty sure. But he'll go along with it, because Eddie wants to try this. See if they can actually play live together, outside of the garage or a school talent show. 

But getting booed? Having shit thrown at them before they've even started? Gareth's not sure he signed up for that. 

So, it's an understatement to say that Gareth's nervous, but he cracks his sticks together counting them in, and away they go. Eddie made the decision to have them play covers only, which is probably the best move they could make. These assholes are never gonna want to hear their original songs, but maybe, just maybe they'll tolerate some covers of things they already know.

The band comes in, on time, and together and that's the first hurdle to clear, honestly.

Gareth's not sure they sound good, but they don't sound terrible. They sound inexperienced and, well, scared. Even Eddie's being reserved, and if he doesn't kick it into high gear, they're gonna be run out of here, for sure. 

Someone throws a can, and Eddie ducks, which sends it straight towards Gareth. He reaches up on reflex, catches it, and throws it back, hardly missing anything.

Eddie turns to look at him, eyes wide. 

Gareth knew playing little league would come in handy someday, he just never guessed this would be the reason. 

And the crowd gets behind this act of defiance, even if Mama Jones looks mortified that her child would do such a thing. 

He just retaliated, he didn't start this shit. 

That puffs Eddie up a little bit, and he takes command of the stage in a way he hadn't yet. He's still a lanky kid, Gareth knows that, but at least he looks like they might belong on this stage, as shitty as it is.

They finish their first song, and the only positive reinforcement is from Mama Jones. She's clapping, and Gareth would be embarrassed if it wasn't so welcomed to hear at least one person enjoying themselves.

Everyone else is kind of being assholes at worst, or indifferent at best. 

They loosen up for their second and third songs, then by the time they've hit their final one, the crowd is at least refraining from hurling things at them.

Gareth supposes that's a win. 

Lou gives them the Tuesday slot, which makes Gareth wonder who the hell they had playing there before them. Because there definitely wasn't a clamoring to keep them on the stage, or get them back for another round, he's sure.

Eddie makes the deal, and then helps Gareth load his drums back into his mom's car while the rest of them pile into Eddie's van. 

When he slides into the passenger seat, his mom looks over at him.

"You were good, I'm proud of you boys," she says, and Gareth rolls his eyes, but is secretly happy with the compliment, down deep.

But, she let him do this, and he should be nicer, "Thanks for letting me do it. It was fun."

"I'll have to have a talk with Eddie, if you boys are going to do this every week. I don't know that I'll always be able to come."

"I'll be good," he says, and he means that. Eddie already treats him like a little kid, and he can't imagine that's gonna change in a bar, where he's under his care.

"You and Goodie sure sounded good together," she says, turning back on the highway.

He turns to look at her, "What?"

"You're the rhythm section, right?"

"Well, yeah. Sure."

"You worked together very well," she says, and Gareth laughs, harder than he means to, and she looks at him, questioning.

"Goodie and I never work together well," he admits, "He picks on me all the time."

"Well, you make nice music together. Maybe you'll learn to get along."

That seems unlikely. 

However, he does trust his mom's opinion on music. She gave private lessons for years. Not only piano, but other instruments, too. She's definitely where he gets his music from. Not his dad. Well, at least not that he knows of. It's not like he knows much about him.

But his mom? She's musical. She probably could have made it a career if she hadn't had him, and decided to stay in Hawkins to raise him.

"You really think so?" he asks.

"Definitely. That can't be taught, you just have to feel it together, and he got right in the pocket with you."

Maybe playing every week at The Hideout will make that flourish. Maybe they will be a real band. Holy shit.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[alba8688]

Texas

Eddie Munson and Corroded coffin get the deal of a lifetime and as soon as they graduate they head to California but get lost in the way meeting new people one nights stands that Eddie left behind in Texas where they got lost and after 5yrs he meets that one night stand again giving him the surprise of his life ..

Warnings throughout the story mentions of smut and everything smutty,fluff angst ,Eddie munson and fem,Fem and other character ..

No ones pov

In a beat up van ,1971 Chevrolet Beauville Sports van to be exact in a road somewhere in Texas where Four friends heading to California to live up there dream of becoming Rockstars .

But what they didn't know was that they where heading the wrong way all because Jeff decided to trust a map Better than his own GPS on his cellphone, now here Was Eddie driving to God knows where .

Well he thinks he is driving to California but in reality he is really lost but he doesn't realized it yet because he is too lost in his music .

Especially now That Metallica started playing on the radio .

Eddie was paying less attention to the road .

Just heading straight like Jeff told him .

His fingers drumming on the wheel to the beat of the song .

Eddie raise up the volume not caring about his 3 friends sleeping in the back seat.

It was Metallica so that was his excuse in case they woke up .

🎶".Born to push you around

Better just stay down

You pull away

He hits the flesh

You hit the ground

Mouth so full of lies

Tend to block your eyes

Just keep them closed

Keep praying

Just keep awaiting

Waiting for the one

The day that never comes

When they stand up and feel the warmth

But the sunshine never comes, no

No, the sunshine never comes

Push you cross that line

Just stay down this time

Hide in yourself

Crawl in yourself

You'll have your time

Eddie was so lost in the song that he was playing his air guitar, that for a moment  there he forgot he was driving and the van swerve but Eddie got the steering wheel again and got control of the van again .

He looked back to see if his friends had noticed but the were all sleeping peacefully.

God, I'll make them pay

Take it back one day

I'll end this day

"Holy shit !" He laughed ,and continue driving .

But this time he tried not to get distracted by the music .

I'll splatter color on this grave

Waiting for the one

The day that never comes

When they stand up and feel the warmth

But the sunshine never comes

Love is a four letter word

And never spoken here

Love is a four letter word

Here in this prison

I suffer this no longer

I'll put an end to

This I swear

This I swear

The sun will shine

This I swear

This I swear

This I swear."🎶

Eddies pov

"Saddle up ?" If we weren't in a hurry I might had stop there for something to eat that im starving but right now we are in a tight schedule having to be in California in a few days .

We could have taken an airplane but our private jet wasn't working this week .

Yeah no we are too broke too afford a damn airplane .

We didn't know if this was a crazy idea just heading out to California to meet up With Robert Davis from Loud Records he had seen us playing at The Hideout on a Tuesday before school

Was out .

He said he like our music and he thought we could be something big .

He gave us his business card and told us to have something original from us to play for him

And his team the next time we saw him and  the day after we call  him and now here we where in my van on our way to California a place where we don't know anyone .

A new beginning for my band and myself .

It was hard at first because I didn't want to leave my uncle and friends behind but I promise them I would be back .

I promised my uncle I was getting him out of that job I promise to buy him a new house and new car and I was planning on keeping my promise but first we got to get to California .

I check the time on my cellphone it was way past 10pm and I was actually getting tired we haven't stop To rest unless we had to pump gas .

Our rest time was when the next person had to

Drive and the next was me an hour ago .

I should have slept More when I had the chance but I was too busy watching cat videos instead of sleeping.

And now I regret my decisions.

It felt like I was driving for hours when I'm reality only an hour had passed but I was already so damn tired .

We been driving for two days already and we where supposed to be there by today so I don't know what we did wrong. I think one of us made a wrong turn  because all i saw was  grass and what seem to be like wheat or cotton fields .

"What the Fuck ?"i squint my eyes to read the sign that we passed by .I had to do  a double look because I thought I read "Welcome to Austin Texas ."

Suddenly the Van's engine begins to sputter and  there was a loud bang coming from the engine I pull over to the side of the road turning off the van and got down to check what was wrong with it .

"Jesus Christ !" There was smoke coming out from under the hood .

"You got to be Fucking kidding me !!" I shouted almost pulling the hairs from my head

This can't be happening right now !!

"This is bullshit !!" I kick at nothing almost tripping with nothing from antics.

"Why we stop ?" a sleepy Gareth and Jeff get down confused as to why we where parked in the middle of nowhere followed by Anthony our other band member.

"Why?!?"WHY!!! I was hysterical the van broke down and we where in Fucking Texas Far away from fucking California .

"Jesus Christ !! What you do to the van dude ?" Gareth pops open the hood of the van and more smoke comes out .

Gareth starts coughing "Yeah that's not working ." He tells me

"Where the Fuck are we ?" Jeff looked around at our sourroundings

"Austin Texas ." I tell him

"Texas ?"Anthony question me

"Yup Texas ." I say popping the p

Both Gareth and Jeff looked at me as if i was stupid or I had insulted them .

"What the fuck are we doing in Austin Texas ?"

"I don't know man." I sat down in the middle

Of the street trying to think of what to do we where in the middle of nowhere and then I remember that a few miles back there was a bar maybe we should Go there .

I got up and grabbed my bag  from the van.

"Get your bags we are walking ." I told the guys

"To where ?" They both asked at the same time .

"I saw a bar a few miles back maybe they could help us or we can wait till the morning to

Find a mechanic .

So that's what we did we got our bags and made sure to lock the van because Gareth's drum set was in the back .

Jeff ,Anthony and I brought out guitars with us .

So now to walk 5 miles back to Saddle up .

Hopefully we can find a mechanic .

@dashingdeb16 it’s here let’s see how it goes

Next chapter

[berrystiles]

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word Count: 10.2k words

Content Warning: Major Character Death, explicit language, a lot of angst, underage drinking, mentions of depression and grief.

Summary: Set after season 4. In that final battle Steve sacrifices himself so everyone else can live, leaving you behind to reflect on various points in your relationship and how the hell you’re supposed to live in a world without him.

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. No use of y/n. This is my first time ever doing a Steve fic, or even a reader pov fic so please be kind. I am also so so so sorry for this. I cried writing it, but I just couldn’t get the idea of my head. My friend is the one who convinced me to post this. I didn’t really have anyone else look over this so any issues are my own and I guess just let me know if you see anything that needs fixing!

Ao3 Link - in case you would prefer to read it there.

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

After what will later be called the end. When the ash from the Upside Down stops falling. When the sky is no longer coated in red. When the nightmare sound of lightning and the ground shaking doesn’t wake you up. You stand at the end and somehow you are still alive. However, it doesn’t feel like you won anything. This isn't the victory you envisioned when you sat in Hopper's cabin and talked strategy with your friends, most of whom still haven't even finished their first year of high school. You weren't stupid, you didn't walk into this final battle naively thinking that all of you would walk away. You've been too deep into this Upside Down shit, lost too many good people, to think that no one in that room was next up on the list of funerals you'd be attending. It's just, that this outcome, the one that you're standing in now was never really an outcome you allowed yourself to think about. You'd picture your death sooner than face this.

Your friends, the ones that made it at least, stand around you. Each of them wrapped up in their own state of being, each of them coming to terms with what should be the last piece of this seemingly endless battle. Nancy and Mike are tucked away in their corner of this field you all have managed to meet up in. They look more like the siblings they are supposed to be than you have ever seen them. If you were fully present, the sight might startle you due to how infrequently you see them in a moment like this, wrapped up in one another. Lucas stands to your left, and you can hear him taking in heaving breaths. If you were to turn your head and make some sort of movement to check on him, you'd see Max standing beside him with her hand in his.

Moving is too much though, especially when directly in front of you are Robin and Dustin. They cling together, dirt and ash covering their faces, their hair a mess. They stand in what should be a hug of celebration, one that should remind you of another time, a better outcome. This hug isn’t for comfort, there's nothing to celebrate. Instead, it’s muffling the sound of sobs, ones that shake Dustin's whole body and remind you so much more of Eddie's loss months ago, but somehow worse. You should be moving toward Robin and Dustin. You should be joining in the wailing, after all the loss they mourn is yours too. But all you feel is that same cold numbness that you have been carrying around for the last hour of this battle. You couldn’t stop, you didn't have a moment to even- you can't think that.

Can't focus on what you couldn't do because if you do... If for just a moment you allow yourself to be back in that space and at that time, you are not sure if you'll be able to leave.

There is a passing thought, so brief, that maybe you got this wrong. Maybe you didn’t survive this at all. It is a big maybe but somehow, it’s easier to think that maybe you are just a ghost in these moments. That you paid your debt back to the universe and it’s giving you a minute to see who survived. A parting gift before you join him and everyone else, but mostly him.

It is as that thought enters and settles that you think you can breathe again. The air that hasn't been able to get into your lungs feels possible. Which should make you laugh because if you are dead then you don't really need that breath, do you?

Still, it’s easier to believe you didn’t survive. That your friends are crying over your loss too. It's an outcome you could make peace with. Because if it's true then you won’t have to live in a world without him. Having to imagine that this next part is where you are supposed to figure out how to survive? Impossible. Not without him.

But then someone’s hand is on your shoulder. The weight of it is heavy and you feel that breath leave you because you can feel it, the pressure of the hand. Another person whispers your name, and that picture you briefly created loses shape. Any hope you had that you’d be joining Steve Harrington in whatever existed on the other side is shattered.

You feel your resolve break, and someone is screaming. The sound is guttural. It's deafening in a way that makes you think of El and makes you see windows shattering with the power behind it. You want to cry for this person because they lost someone like you. There's a deep sympathy that runs through you for them. It's only as someone grabs you, your legs giving out because of that shattered concept that you did live through this again. It is as you fall that you register there isn't anyone else screaming, it's just you.

Take me back to the night we met

October 1984, Halloween

You knew Steve Harrington long before you knew what a Demogorgon was or that the Upside Down existed. The perk, or downfall depending on who you were, of living in a small town like Hawkins is that you've been in school with Steve since the beginning. He may be a year older than you, but your paths still crossed, even in the elementary school playground. However, despite that you and Steve weren't friends, you were nothing but passing ships. Despite knowing him, you didn't register him and had no real reason or desire to if you were honest. The night you finally did take note of Steve Harrington as more than just a self-proclaimed king of your high school was Halloween 1984.

As usual, Tina is throwing a party. Another day when her parents are long gone from Hawkins and her need for popularity demands that teenagers should enter her home and destroy it. It's not the first party Tina's thrown this year and it sure as hell will not be the last. You may not be on Tina's level of popularity, but you do okay socially. Your friends have demanded to make an appearance at the party. The idea of passing up free beer, and the chance to catch the attention of whoever their recent crush is too much to pass up on. 

As usual, they drag you along, and it is fine. Because while you may not have the same motivation as them to attend you do love Halloween. You are too old to trick or treat, so at least this is a chance to dress up and have fun. After all, these are the best years of your life, as your mom continues to remind you. So, you took the time and went as Jo from The Facts of Life. Which honestly was one of your favorite shows, only to have your friends all ditch you by the end of the night. Which also meant, you were stuck walking home... alone.

As annoyed as you are, you are also the one that after a cup or two of whatever that punch was, was pushing your friends toward the boys they had been eyeing all night. Let it be known, you were a good friend you thought to yourself as you started walking towards the door. Plus, you're also a little thankful for some of the alcohol still coursing through you because, at the very least, it's giving you the warmth you need to push outside and make the trek home.

As you’re breathing in the fresh air, finally free from the cigarette smoke inside, you hear the signs of someone else taking in deep breaths. Curiosity will always be your downfall, at least that's what your grandma tells you, but so what you like to know what's going on.

You look to your left and you are surprised to see Steve Harrington. Not that you thought he wouldn’t be here tonight or something. After all, you had seen him earlier though he seemed much happier then. What is surprising was that Steve was swiping at his face like he was trying to wipe tears away. But that would be impossible because you had a bet going with Robin Buckley from band that Steve didn’t have feelings. This new development meant you were going to be ten bucks short the next day at school if you decided to share what you saw.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or the surprise, or maybe you are just a good person. Whatever it is has you stepping towards him. “Are you okay?”

He’s obviously not, but you are kind enough to give him an out, and maybe you’re hoping he’ll take it. You didn't sign up to be the one comforting King Steve, but there's just something so depressing about a boy caught crying to himself outside of a party. Not that you had much experience with the picture before you, but this was feeling depressing. Steve must be surprised by your question too because your voice makes him jump, and he's coughing like he wasn't just crying.

"Me? No yeah, I'm fine, totally fine." You find yourself raising a brow and the alcohol has you feeling bold. "That sounds like a load of bullshit," Steve frowns at you, his mouth opens, and you are pretty sure he's about to start arguing with you. But you press on because you haven't let a man talk over you before and you're not starting tonight.

"However, despite it sounding like bullshit I will refrain from further questioning." You pause a moment before smiling in what is probably coming off as less charming and more chaotic, "You're welcome!"

You don't hesitate after that, you have done your due diligence, and you are free to go in your opinion. You are hoping down the front steps of Tina's house when Steve calls after you, and you're surprised he knows your name. So surprised that you miss the last step and tumble to the ground.

"Shit!" Steve yells out and you stare at the sky, the stars look nice tonight you think as you hear Steve approaching. "Are you okay?" The original question of this whole exchange is now turned on you, and you can't help but chuckle because this is so stupid.

You, partially tipsy and laying in Tina's yard, and Steve fresh from crying asking if you're okay as he hovers over you. "I'm cool," you assure him as you go to sit up. "Isn't the first time I've fallen and knowing my luck it won't be the last." You're thankful for your costume which has layers that took the brunt of it all, and the grass in Tina's yard that softened the rest of your fall.

You dust yourself off and it's in your peripheral that you see Steve is still hovering. You heave a sigh, and it probably comes off like you're exasperated at his mere presence, but for once that's not how you mean it. "Steve, really I'm okay stop looking at me like you just tried to mortally maim me or something." It's enough to get him laughing now, and you try to hide your smile because you can't be so easily charmed by Steve Harrington, you won't allow yourself.

Except then he's asking you if you're driving home, and you're not going to lie to him. So, you tell him about your plans to walk since your ride took off about an hour ago. Steve scoffs at the idea of you walking home and mutters what sounds like a remark about your clumsiness making the act of walking home impossible. Then he's walking away, and calling back to you, again using your name which you're still confused by, and telling you he's going to take you home. You think maybe the fall gave you whiplash or something because this all feels just too much. However, the alcohol is wearing off and you're cold and a little achy from your fall. So, with no fight and without trying to pretend you don't need his help you're climbing into his car.

The car ride is quiet at first, just small questions from Steve so you can direct him where to go. The heat is on, and you hold your hands in front of the vents. Steve takes a right at your direction, and it's silent again but not for long. "Um, can I ask a question?" You stop yourself from being cheeky and responding that he did just ask a question. "Sure," makes its way out of you instead and later you'll be proud of yourself for sounding so calm as you said it.

"Do you think if someone says something to you when they're drunk, they mean it?" You look over at him, his hands clinch the steering wheel, and he actively avoids looking over at you. Tomorrow the pieces of this puzzle will slot together, and you'll recognize this question as a driving force behind what had upset him earlier. For now, though you don't catch the connecting pieces. Instead, you hum and think to yourself, really rolling over the question before providing your answer.

"You probably won't like this answer, but I have to say I don't have a lot of experience with that situation." You pause, collecting all the scattered thoughts, "But I think that maybe they do?" You wish you sounded surer, but really, you're just not. "I guess it depends on the person, but at its core alcohol lowers inhibitions that's why people do stupid shit. Maybe it lowers the walls enough for people to be honest, even if they don't mean to be so... well I guess mean about it."

You spare another glance his way. You catch Steve nodding along to your words, something in them must be what he was looking for, or maybe he was just afraid of accepting them. But all he says is, "Thanks." It's the last thing he says as he pulls into your driveway, and you're again confused because you never said which house was yours. Your brows scrunch together, as you climb out of his car. You go to shut the door, but another pause, and you dip your head back into the warm car. "Steve," he finally looks at you, a surprised look taking over, "whatever was said, maybe just ask the person about it before you get too stuck in that head of yours." You smile, and he manages to match the look, his eyes are soft as he stares at you. "Thanks for the ride, Harrington." You close the door before he can reply and skip to your door.

When the night was full of terrors

Junkyard, November 1984

You don't talk to Steve Harrington again after Halloween, and maybe it's for the best because the whole experience just felt unreal to you. Hawkins is still Hawkins though and you see Steve sure enough, and you don't take offense when he doesn't acknowledge you. The rumor mill at the school tells many versions of Steve and Nancy's fight at Tina's party. You keep quiet about the parts of the puzzle that you walked into as you were leaving. It's not your story to tell, and honestly, it's Steve and Nancy's business when it comes to what happens next.

So, you move on with your life like the whole car ride home thing never happened. You keep your ten dollars, and never tell Robin about how Steve Harrington is capable of human emotion. It's your secret now, and you'd rather keep your money. Steve Harrington and you will only ever have that moment on Halloween, or so you think. Instead, the world has other plans for the pair of you.

Later you'll look back on this night as one of the dumbest decisions you have ever made, but in the moment, it felt like a good option. Your bike, the literal only means of transportation you have, has decided enough is enough and it's putting up a permanent strike and the bike chain it needs to function is breaking. You're pissed and frustrated because this means you either need to pay for a new bike, pay for a stupid part that will be way overpriced, or you're stuck walking everywhere.

You choose option number four, which is walking to the junkyard and just finding a piece you can salvage. You're positive there will be some old bike that you can take a part from, no one will miss it after all. It'll save you some money and will be a quick solution to your problem. In theory, it’s a great plan. The issue is that you can't let go of this idea which leads you to the junkyard right as the sun is setting. It's going to be a chilly night, and the fog is already rolling in making it hard to see. Which isn't great because the junkyard on its own is already a creepy place to be, but tonight it's weirder and it smells like gas. You wander around, muttering to yourself about finding a bike quickly and potentially running home.

You're moving close to the bus because some bikes seem to be stacked up near it when you hear a growl from somewhere in the woods. Indiana is not supposed to have deadly creatures lurking in the woods you remind yourself, but still, you turn around. The damn fog has only gotten thicker though, and you can't see shit. Someone grabs your arm and yanks you back, you go to scream but their other hand clamps over your mouth. "It's okay, you're safe," the voice tells you but that's what all kidnappers say you think, so you lick the hand covering your mouth, which is enough for them to drop it.

You don't plan to die without a fight, so you're quick to turn around and punch your assailant, however, your fist stops midair because your supposed kidnapper is none other than Steve Harrington. He wipes his hand on his jeans a disgusted look on his face, "Steve?" You look around and take note that you're in a bus, a bus that has three pre-teens also inside of it. "Is this some weird kidnapping thing, because I'm not okay with this." Steve looks up at you quickly, "What? No, what the fuck?"

Once you are assured that the kids are there of their own free will and this isn't some wild ploy to sell you on the black market or kill you, you start to settle down. You take a seat next to a kid who introduces himself as Dustin and immediately wants to know how you know Steve. "Feels like the wrong question to be asking, dude." Steve sighs and it sounds like this line of questioning is one he's been dealing with all day.

It's an opening though, and you explain your presence in the junkyard, and while they are all hesitant, they do tell you why they are all huddled inside of the bus. You don't get it, something about other worlds and monsters and people with powers. It all goes over your head, and you're pretty sure this is some elaborate prank, and you don't really have the patience for it all. You're about to yell, about to stomp right out of that bus, when the kid they called Lucas yells out that there's something outside. Steve and the other two kids are at the window peering out before you can even respond, and the curiosity kicks back in and sweeps out all the anger you had building up.

You slide in next to Steve and peer out into the night. Everything changes after that, because suddenly the monsters are very very real and very much trying to eat you. And Steve Fucking Harrington, just waltzes on out into the night like he's fucking invincible. It's all so ridiculous, but you're in it now and even when you have the chance to walk away you just can't. When you think about doing it you think of Steve and the way that bat twirled around. You think of these stupid kids you don't even know, and you just can't walk away. You say as much and start to head off in the direction of these things they all plan to chase.

The night is a blur after that, finding Nancy and Jonathan. Getting taken to the Byers and learning that the police chief is aware of this all too. Meeting the one with powers, who is also a kid, and was thought to be dead. You couldn't make it up if you tried, and you're not sure you want to. Once everyone is split up, Steve and you are left with the kids. You try to be helpful, but this just doesn't feel like enough.

When the kids get the idea to go into the tunnels you find yourself siding with them, but Steve is so stupidly adamant that no one is leaving the house. He looks like such a mom at the moment, and more of this picture of who you thought Steve was shatters. There's no more arguing though because Billy Hargrove is suddenly showing up and it's an all-out brawl. You're thankful your dad taught you how to fight. It comes in handy tonight because while Steve might have been doing well in the beginning, he's slowly lost his leg in this whole thing.

You'll be damned if you just let Hargrove kill Steve, not when you're just starting to finally like the guy. So, you do what your dad taught you and you land a punch of your own, just enough to distract him. Enough to lead him away from Steve. So, what if there's also some satisfaction in making the hit? Hargrove has been a dick since he showed up and you don't feel sorry for hitting him. You do however start to regret those actions once Hargrove makes it clear that he doesn't care that you're a girl, he'll gladly turn you black and blue if you're in his way. Billy starts to make his way towards you, when suddenly Max is plunging a syringe into his neck, and any momentum he had just takes him down to the ground even harder.

You'd love to say you kept up with Steve's mothering ways while he was passed out, but you were all too happy to pile into the car with the kids. The issue is you don't know how to drive Billy's car, it's a stick and you only know automatic at this point, which left Max as the only option. Her driving leaves little room for comfort. There are no other words to describe it except for wild and terrifying, and yet, it led you closer to Steve which led you directly to your happiest points it just took some time to get there.

Because after that night in November your life changes, but then it also doesn't. You're let into this whole other world, all the dirty secrets that Hawkins has been hiding over the last year are now known to you. Despite everything you saw and did, you still have to show up to school on Monday and pretend like nothing has changed.

You spend your days smiling with friends, keeping this huge secret from them, and then your nights are spent lying awake and being a little haunted by those monsters in the tunnels. You close your eyes and instead of running around you and Steve, they rip you apart. You always wake, gasping for air, and spend the rest of the night staring at your ceiling. You don't know who to talk to, because honestly, you're not friends with Nancy or Jonathan, and they weren't there when it all happened anyway.

Most of the people that were there are still children, pre-teens sure, but still not responsible for being your outlet. The only option left is Steve, but there's this overwhelming weight that settles in your stomach when you think of approaching him. Because things with Steve are weird after that night. You have memories and imprints of him holding on to you, you helped him clean and bandage up his face, and the last time you really slept was with your head on his shoulder as you all waited for everyone to return to the Byers' house that night. When it was all said and done, once he was back at his car, he gave you a ride home, smiled at you, told you goodnight, and then he was gone.

You spent that weekend wondering if when Monday rolled around Steve Harrington would even acknowledge you. Or maybe just like Halloween, this was just a brief moment that the two of you shared that you will never talk about again.

When Monday did come, he didn't ignore you, but he didn't approach you either. He smiles at you from across the hall, raises his hand, and gives a little wave. Your friends spend the rest of the day asking you about the small moment, and all you can do is shrug because you're not sure how to label it.

So no, you don't approach Steve about your nightmares. Steve and you are small waves in the hallway, passing smiles, and deep secrets that neither of you even mentions. You wonder sometimes, as you stare at your ceiling if he's stuck awake and thinking about this weird cycle the two of you seem stuck in.

The cycle keeps going, until the Snowball dance, where somehow you got roped into borrowing your parents' car and taking Max to the dance. It's there as you're saying goodbye and throwing up two thumbs up that you see Steve sending Dustin off through the doors. Maybe it's the distance or the fact that you're both alone again, but you gather your courage and do something different. You call his name, you both smile, and you ask if he's hungry.

From that night on, Steve and you are more than passing glances in a hall. The two of you are weekly dinners at a diner on the edge of town, you are night drives and late phone calls, you are movie nights, and the additional babysitter to the pre-teens. It's a new cycle, one that your other friends don't get, and you don't know how to explain, but it's a cycle you love being stuck in.

I had all and then most of you

Summer 1985

Time moves on from winter to spring, and when summer finds you it's easy to think that last fall was the last time you have to worry about being anything other than seventeen. Somehow through it all, in a move that no one saw coming, Steve Harrington worms his way into your life and somehow becomes your best friend. It turns out that when he isn't pretending to be something he's not, when he's not worried about carrying the crown that was placed on him by his peers, Steve Harrington is all too easy to be friends with.

In the months following the Snowball Dance, the two of you spend an enormous amount of time together. You do end up confiding in him about your nightmares, and he shares about his. It's the two of you, and sometimes it’s also just the dynamic duo of being the babysitters of all the pre-teens, that are suddenly just teens. You have inside jokes, and the teasing nature of your conversation becomes more fond than annoyed.

So yeah, when summer rolls in and Steve is forced to find a job after he graduates, you're right beside him for moral support. He lands a spot at Scoops, and you're a couple of stores down working at Camelot Music. You spend the summer riding back and forth together when your schedules line up. Breaks are spent skipping into Scoops and watching as Steve continuously strikes out with what seems like the total female teen population in Hawkins. It helps that your friend from band, Robin, is also working there so you both get to tease Steve together. On days off the two of you are still spending time together most of it trying to escape the heat by swimming in his pool or taking small drives out of town and trying to see something new.

And it's fine, really. You have nothing to complain about.

Except... for a tiny little thing. It's the middle of summer, and you're about 90% sure you're in love with Steve Harrington. The same Steve Harrington who is your best friend, the same best friend who definitely does not feel the same way you do, so... that is kind of a problem.

It's just difficult. Because in the same way that it was so easy to be friends with him, it is even easier to love Steve Harrington. You're not sure if anyone has ever told him that before, given what you know you would wager no one has. And as much as you want to tell him, as much as you want him to stop chasing after all these girls who can't even see him, you are not willing to lose him. Because that's the other thing that you are almost positive of. If you tell him how you feel there is no way to come back from that moment.

So, you sit in the back room with Robin, the window open so you can see Steve in the front. You watch him flirt with girl after girl. Watch Steve smile and joke and laugh and pretend like your whole stomach isn't churning with jealousy. You sit in his passenger seat, windows rolled down and radio on, and try not to stare at the way he smiles at you when you sing along. You make great efforts not to just sigh in what you’re sure would sound like love when you watch him mother hen these teens that have somehow become both of yours. Again, it's all fine you repeat to yourself as you watch the gang of teens push their way past Steve as he sneaks them into the back hallway so they can get into a movie. You feel like maybe if you repeat it's fine enough eventually it will be.

When Dustin returns and shares the radio interception with you and Steve, things start to take a drastic turn away from fine. Apparently, it is too much to think you can just be seventeen when you live in Hawkins. The only difference between now and last fall is that you're dealing with Russians instead of monsters, and you get pulled in right at the beginning, instead of just stumbling into it all. At first, it's fun, you come in on your breaks, and when you're done for the day, you help where you can. You get a good laugh out of both Dustin and Steve mistaking the pig Latin for Russian. It's easy in those beginning moments to feel like the whole plot all of you are working on uncovering is so far away from Hawkins. You feel safe.

You feel safe at least until you're passing a quarter to a frantic Steve, and you learn that the Russian plot is a lot closer to home than you thought.

Your guard starts to go up after that moment, but you're not backing out now. That night when Steve drives you home, after dropping off Dustin he pauses in your driveway and tells you that you don't have to help. You would take offense to it if it wasn't for the way his eyes were all soft as he looked at you. Maybe there would have been a biting comment, but he's picked up your hand, fingers are intertwined together and you're more stuck on how well his hand feels in your own to start a fight.

You take a deep breath, swallow down your feelings, and give what is probably a shaky smile, "You're stuck with me, Harrington. I won't scare away that easily. What are a couple of Russians compared to weird deadly monsters?" Your question gets the exact response you wanted, a quick and cheeky grin that is all Steve and means trouble you've learned. "That's true," his voice is low despite it just being you two in his car. His eyes glance at your hands, still together, and he gives yours a squeeze. "Don't tell Henderson, but if I had to uncover a secret Russian plot you would be my first choice, Bee."

It's not the first time you've heard him use the little nickname he has for you, but just like the first time it causes your stomach to do a full turn and you feel like you might just choke on your feelings right there in the passenger seat of his car. You've been good about keeping your eyes on him, but you have to look away, and you bite your lip to just give yourself a second. A soft huff of laughter does escape in the end though, and you squeeze his hand back. "Your secret is safe with me.”

You think that if you were anywhere else but this tiny car it would probably be hard for him to hear you. There's another pause, a silence that sits heavy on you, and the air feels tense like it can sometimes get for you both. It's in these small and rare moments that you think about the what-if of it all. What if he did like you? But then, Steve clears his throat and his hand escapes yours. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" Your smile feels tight, but you've practiced it so much that it comes out like it's easy, "Tomorrow, definitely. Night, Harrington." The use of his last name is for you, it puts some distance between the affection that sometimes escapes when you use his first name. You're out of the car and to your door before he can say anything else and… it's fine.

When you see him the next day it’s just like it always is. Like his car wasn’t full of just something right on the edge just the night before. And just like always, you burst into Scoops, lucky to have a day off and pretend like you always do. That your feelings are those of only the most platonic nature. It’s helpful that the same day Robin, and somewhat you, manage to figure out what all the little sentences you’ve translated mean. All the different spots in the mall are connected, and it leads you to the next step in the process which is gaining intel. The four of you manage to sneak onto a roof and watch over a very shady exchange with some men who should not be holding weapons to just drop off products. When you all duck down, as you’re tucked away on the end by Dustin. You look over to make sure everyone is okay; you watch as Steve and Robin’s hands unclasp. You try to shake off the sick feeling that bubbles up, and the four of you take off before someone comes up to investigate what all the noise is about.

The next day brings a full shift over at Camelot that you cannot get out of. It’s busy so even during your breaks you don’t have the time to go over to Scoops. Which is fine because you just need a second before you go over there. Just some space to sort out the crazed scenarios your brain created all night long. Pictures of Steve and Robin together, take up all the free space in your mind. You are all too aware of how ridiculous it is, but you just can’t let the idea go. It’s only after your shift is over that you wander over to Scoops, only to find that somehow Sinclair’s sister has been dragged into this operation. Dustin comments on how it’s about time you showed up, and Steve smacks him on the head and tells him to stop being a little shit.

Robin slides over and whispers that she’s glad you’re here, “I don’t think I could spend another minute alone with the two of them.” Some of your thoughts start to drift away, you internally remind yourself again that you’re being silly. “I wouldn’t miss being here for anything,” you remark, a smile firm on your face and it feels right like you aren’t lying. Later, you’ll want to smack yourself because the whole sentence is a set of shitty last words if you’ve ever heard them. You’ll wonder if you doomed everyone by the statement.

Getting stuck in the elevator was one terrible thing, and in the moment of it all, you have a hard time imagining it gets worse. Of course, it does get worse because this is Hawkins and apparently you and your friends are now stuck saving the world on a regular basis. You hate that Steve, Robin, and yourself have been caught but there is a comfort in knowing that at least Dustin and Erica are safe. You don’t understand the questions the Russians are asking, and why they don’t believe that you work at a record store. Not knowing where Robin or Steve are being kept and what’s happening to them, is the worst of it though. You feel like you’re at the end of your rope. You’re tired and scared, but you try and stay strong. You spew words like venom the longer the questioning goes on until finally you’re thrown into a room with Robin. Steve, who looks even worse than he did last year after his fight with Billy eventually joins too.

Any resolve to keep your shit together goes out the window as you call to Steve to wake up. When you hear him groan relief floods over your body like a bucket of water being poured over you. It’s the easiest you’ve been able to breathe since the elevator doors wouldn’t open. The three of you try to plan an escape, but the limited mobility and lack of coordination make your escape complicated. You feel like a third wheel as you lay on the ground next to your friends. It’s not the time or place for your insecurities, but Robin’s speech has them coming out. You’re quiet as she talks, quiet even more as Steve’s additional silence hangs over all three of you.

You can’t stop them from injecting you when the guards return to the room. A part of you wishes it was easy to break out of this situation like it is in all the action movies that you’ve seen. Eventually, though a sense of ease settles into your bones and you’re laughing with Steve and Robin, taunting guards, and forgetting all about the additional insecurities you had just moments before they injected you all. There’s a piece of your brain that recognizes this is what the guards want, but it just all feels so- insignificant.

Your limbs are heavy as Dustin and Erica try to hurdle the three of you out of captivity. You bounce around in the back of that car, hitting the sides as you turn corners in a way that you know will leave you with bruises tomorrow. Steve is pressed against you too though, and somehow that makes the blows even softer. The drugged-up version of you finds it freeing to not be so restricted by your anxious thoughts. You lean into Steve and his touches as all of you move through the theater. You rest your head on his shoulder as you try to understand what this movie is about. It’s not the way the ceiling of Starcourt shines and moves that makes you sick in the end. For you, it feels more like all the cells of your body are just overwhelmed and short-circuiting from all these emotions that swell inside of you.

Confessions slip out from all of you in those bathroom stalls. It feels like a moment, one that chains the three of you together in a way that you can never escape from. Unlike the confines the Russians had placed on you, this imaginary chain isn’t one you want to let go of. These are your people, and you love them. It doesn’t matter that Steve can’t love you the way you love him, it doesn’t matter who Robin loves. These are your people and as you all sit next to one another on the floor of the bathroom, laughing together, it feels like you will never have to worry about losing one another. Future you will think back on this moment and wish harder than you ever have that you could just transport yourself back there. If the DeLorean did exist you would gladly take it back to that moment, and you never would have let yourself leave it.

The night never stops being a nightmare, the terror of seeing the Mindflayer in person will keep you up for months after Starcourt. You will pour over everything you could have done to try and change the outcome of the incident. You will spend spare moments reaching out to Max only for her to push you and everyone else further and further away the longer time goes on. You will fret and worry over the lasting trauma all of this will take on each one of you as you get older.

Eventually though, like all things with the Upside Down do, the feelings will lessen. The nightmares will get farther and farther away from you. And in a turn of events even better than you could have hoped for Steve and you will move from just being friends to something that is so much more than your mind could have ever created. You’ll get to a place where you’re able to tell yourself that all of you are going to be okay eventually. That all of this is finally over, and sure you have lost a lot and there are still people to pull back from the edge, but all of you might end up being okay.

Some and now none of you

What instead happens is that a pattern of you being wrong about the Upside Down continues. Everything gets worse and this time you don’t even have half the team you’re used to fighting with. Instead, those of you left behind in Hawkins must scrape together and try to defeat an even bigger piece of the Upside Down puzzle that is Vecna. It goes even worse than it has in the past. You lose another friend, and you all come out with physical and mental scars that don’t feel like they will heal this time. Even worse, is that this time there is no reprieve to try and heal or move on. While parts of the team do come back, you’re all scrambling to try and figure out how to move directly into the next phase of the battle.

Your timeline in what you all hope is the last phase of this is shorter and yet longer than any you’ve worked with before. Waking hours are spent at Hopper’s cabin, each of you doing what you can to get more insight into what you’re dealing with. Hawkins continues to meld with the Upside Down in a way that feels too similar to that first fall you became involved in all of this. The only thing holding you together during it all is Steve, and a part of you knows that you’re the only thing holding him together too. While your days are spent at Hopper’s, your nights belong to Steve. The two of you cling together and sometimes it feels like if you could make it out of all of this the domestic bliss you create at night could be your future.

Midnights are spent curled into one another. Faces flush and warm with love, lips swollen from deep kisses, bodies aching in a way that shows more of how you two try to become one and less about the physical ways the outside world has harmed you in the past. Here in the cocoon of your shared bed, you two whisper out future plans. You talk about escaping after this, leaving Hawkins, and finding a new place to call home. You dream of tiny apartments decorated with secondhand furniture, a space in the future where Steve and you get those six little nuggets, he talked about so long ago in that stolen RV. Kids that look like Steve, that’s your hope, but Steve is so quick to share how he hopes they look exactly like you. Tucked in the small spaces of the night, blocked off from the rest of the world, the two of you allow yourself to sink into this future. Others might warn that doing this would be torture because nothing is guaranteed. But these moments are the only thing keeping you together, and Steve himself even shares how this is sometimes the only hope he has that all of you can make it through this. So, other people be damned, you will keep planning a future with Steve because that’s the only future you want to be a part of.

When the final battle plans are complete, and you’re all geared up again and everyone knows what their role in this is, that’s when things shift. You don’t place weight on how the night before could be the last one you share with Steve. The two of you seek comfort from one another like it might be the last night on Earth, but you don’t talk about the what-ifs that could come from tomorrow.

The last ounce of peace you have isn’t even that peaceful. Your body shakes with anxious energy and Steve can feel your heart racing as he tightens the vest you wear to hold your weapons. “You don’t have to come,” he tells you and it sparks the memory of so long ago that moment in his car. You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to go either, but you both know what his response will be to that. Your smile is soft, “You’re stuck with me, remember that Harrington.” You get just the reaction you wanted, just like you did on that summer night so long ago. Steve takes your hand and kisses your knuckles softly. Neither of you is the same person you were in his BMW all that time ago, but that’s okay you think.

“If I remember correctly, you don’t scare that easily?” His voice is thick, and you think if sound could have a taste his words would be sweet and sticky like honey. “Good to know all those hits to the head haven’t affected your memory too badly,” you tease. Steve doesn’t even take a moment to laugh like he normally would, instead the soft look he gives you turns serious in a way that you’ve come to recognize. “There is no memory where you are involved that I could ever forget, Bee. Doesn’t matter how many hits to the head I take, you’re too unforgettable.”

In another life, the two of you would be able to just be two not-so-teens anymore in love. You like to think that there isn’t a world out there where Steve and you don’t find one another somehow. In this universe, though both of you carry too much, and not for the first time you find yourself silently wishing there was a way you both could run from this. That’s not who you are and it’s not who Steve is. You pull Steve close and kiss him for what could be the last time, “Don’t do anything stupid out there, we have a future to get back to.” Steve makes no promises, but he kisses you back just as fiercely, the kiss only breaking as Hopper calls everyone to come together to set the plan into place.

At first, the plan seems to be working, and all of you are fighting harder than you ever have. There’s a moment where you think to yourself that you all could do this. Allowing the thought to take root though is a curse because everything falls apart after it. What advantage you had is quickly taken away and the battle starts to feel more like you’re all doomed. Those who survived and were there will later tell you all the little things that happened next. Mostly because you make them tell you because it doesn’t matter how hard you try the next bit is a blur. One moment you’re there and fighting, and watching as Steve takes down another creature, and the next you’re hovering over pushing compression after compression into his chest like if you do it enough you can bring him back from the dead.

Steve dies in the only way you imagine the universe would ever let him leave so young, saving you and everyone else. Because of course Steve sacrificed himself, as he always tends to do because no matter how much you loved him it would never make him feel like he wasn’t the most expendable person.

You feel bitter and angry at Steve for being so careless with his life. You want to rage at the world, and every single person who contributed to this existence you must live in. You think if Dr. Brenner were still alive Hopper might have to figure out how to get you out of murder charges because you don’t think you could stop yourself. Worst of all, you hate yourself because, in all the futures you ever allowed yourself to imagine, you never thought you’d have to figure out how to be without Steve.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

The aftermath is that the rest of Hawkins gets to move on. They figure out a way to rebuild and pave over the deep cracks left behind. They put up a statue in the middle of town, and have a plaque dedicated to “everyone who lost their lives in the tragedy”.

The Harringtons learn about the death of their son over the phone because they refuse to come back to town. You hate them and wish they were the ones who were dead and not Steve. It makes you feel sick to hold on to so much anger, but you just don’t know what to do with it all. You feel like you’re constantly on the edge of some cliff just waiting for the wind to knock you over.

It's you and the ones that survived that end up holding his funeral. His parents don’t even want to hear about it. The only thing that their absence allows for is for you to sneak back into his home long after he’s gone and seek comfort in the room that became both of yours in that last week. Everything there smells like him and when you’re there you can pretend like he’s still here with you.

Time even in that false reality is limited, and you don’t care what the Harringtons will do. You’re not even sure if they would notice, so you buy totes and pack up his clothes and his belongings. You let Dustin and the kids come in and take a part of him so they can remember him. Robin says she doesn’t want anything and that she’s just here for moral support. But then you find his hat from Scoops. The only piece of his uniform that survived. You pretend you don’t notice her pocketing the object, and neither of you talks about it.

You barely manage to graduate. You think you get a pass only because of the tragedy the town has seen. Your parents want to move, the town still feels cursed in their eyes and it would be an easy way out, but you just can’t. You’re eighteen at this point and they can’t force you to follow them, so they just say goodbye and tell you to call if you need anything. You find an apartment in town and move your stuff and Steve’s into it. No one says anything at first, but a month later Nancy feels emboldened to ask if you think this is okay. You hate how your only response is, “No, I don’t think it’s okay that I have to be mourning the loss of my very young boyfriend thanks for checking in, Nance.” No one says anything again after that.

What you learn during this time is that grief is fucked. Depression and trauma in a world where you can’t talk about it is also shit. You force yourself into therapy but you can’t be honest and so it doesn’t feel like it’s helping. You quit that after a few weeks.

Hawkins feels haunted. You see Steve everywhere you go. At the diner where you spent all those late-night dinners together. In every movie that The Hawk advertises, in the halls of the school when you’re still there, you see him in the streets and the people. Nowhere feels safe, and you can’t stay in your apartment forever. All you want to do is leave this stupid town and never return. But then you think of the kids and your friends who survived and the thought of leaving them behind feels like you’d be letting Steve down. It doesn’t matter that you both talked about leaving, it still feels like you’d be disappointing him. So, you keep living in this town that makes you want to die and as the months continue to go by you start to question if this is even living.

And then I can tell myself what the hell to do

When the one-year anniversary comes around you still feel like you’re stuck in the same spot Steve left you in. It doesn’t feel like you’re living. You get up and go to work, plaster on a smile, and pretend like things are fine. You carve out time to be with your friends, who may still be a little haunted but have been able to move on in ways you can’t.

It’s Dustin who shows up at your apartment the day of, some excuse on his tongue about needing a ride somewhere and you’re his only hope. You’re not sure if Dustin drew the short end of the stick, or if it was a strategic move because you can’t say no to him. There’s also the very real possibility that Dustin could have volunteered because he’s the only other person besides Robin who knew Steve the way that you did. It turns out Dustin was just there to lead you to some intervention in the Hopper-Byer household.

Your friends are gathered up, even Hopper and Joyce are there with sympathetic eyes that whisper out apologies. Dustin is the first to speak, his words hold so many emotions but are blunt and to the point, “You need to leave Hawkins.” There is no room for debate as he explains that Steve wouldn’t want you to be stuck here. “Anytime Steve would give me a ride somewhere we’d always drift to talking about you. I think Steve didn’t know how to not talk about you after he met you,” Dustin has to pause and clear his throat. “Steve would talk about how one day both of you would get out of this town. He’d tell me that the world was too big, and you were too special to just stay here forever.”

Nancy reminds you about that conversation in the RV that feels more like a fever dream than a reality. About Steve’s desire for six nuggets, which just reminds you of late-night conversations about children you’re never going to have. Nancy also tells you about a moment in the woods that you didn’t know even happened. How Steve thanked her and told her about how he was able to change to be someone who deserved to be with you. “He loved you,” her words are so soft you barely hear them. “He would want you to be out there enjoying the world. He would hate that you were stuck here, stuck in a grief that you’re never going to shake if you continue to stay here.”

Hopper and Joyce are next, and it seems that they worked on what they wanted to say together. While there are parts of it that sound like Hopper, this speech feels 100% Joyce led. Hopper and Joyce talk about moving on and how you can’t do that if you’re stuck in the same place that took the person from you. Joyce shares about how moving to California was necessary for her to be able to move on. Hopper gets more emotional than you’ve seen him as he talks about his battle with grief. “I don’t want you to fall into the same shit I turned to just because you’re still stuck here, kid.” He’s moved to stand in front of you at some point and he hugs you, his final words are whispered just for you, “It wasn’t your fault, you don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

Robin asks if you remember being in that bathroom at Starcourt and reminds you of the question she had asked Steve. Once you acknowledge that you do remember that she tells you that she’s been keeping a secret from you for a long time. “In my defense, he asked me not to tell you, and then you guys got together, and I didn’t think I would ever need to tell you. I thought maybe it would be some weird story I edited together and told you at your wedding.” In true Robin fashion, her words are quick and rushed together, but you’ve had years of experience following whatever Robin was talking about. “I know we both thought he meant me, but after everything, while you were being looked at by some EMT he told me that he was talking about you.” You feel confused, and Robin presses on, “Steve thought I should know since you know it led to me sharing my secret. He didn’t think you felt the same, he didn’t want to risk your friendship, so he didn’t tell you. He loved you, so much, and now you know that he loved you for longer than you even knew.”

Everyone left takes a turn, going through with their observations about your relationship with Steve. How Steve changed when he was with you, how you brought something to his life that no one else had. “You made him feel like he was easy to love,” it’s Max who tells you that. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you, the way she directly knows how Steve probably felt like he was impossible to love. The trauma of relationships with shitty parents and how it scars someone too universal for her not to pick up on how much your relationship meant to Steve.

It's the last piece that crumbles any resolve you had. This mask that you’ve been wearing for the last year, the shell you built around yourself to stay safe is falling apart. You feel broken in a way that feels like when you lost him, but also feels new because the truth is Steve changed you too. He’s left a mark on your soul that you will never be able to erase. Even with him gone you still feel like this string is attached between the two of you. You’ve spent the last year wondering if you pulled hard enough on that string that he would come back to you.

You’ve spent a year dreaming up with ifs. What if you could go back and tell yourself to not even go to that junkyard. Would that change things, would Steve still be here? It makes you feel so immensely guilty because it should have been you. It’s this weight you didn’t know you were carrying and once you say it you can’t stop. Over and over the words tumble out of you there in the living room of the Hopper-Byer house. “It should have been me,” you feel hollow as you manage to make the words. Someone scoops you up into their arms, “He wouldn’t have wanted it to be you.” They tell you over and over again, and you don’t believe it, but you want to.

Somewhere in the weeks after the intervention the feeling of not being able to leave starts to fade. It’s slow at first, like when the ground starts to thaw for the first time when the sun shines after a hard winter. It’s enough.

And it’s as you hug everyone goodbye and promise to call that you think maybe you can breathe again. It’s as you cross the now leaving sign for Hawkins that you think maybe Steve hasn’t been haunting you, and if he was it’s only because maybe he’d want you to move on or at least get out of there.

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter X: It’s All Hate And Money

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter ix

summary: an idea is proposed by your label that you’re not sure you want to take part in, especially given the circumstances.

tags: hurt/no comfort but barely, angst, fake dating, slow burn, idiots in love, mutual pining, mutual heartbreak, these two are so stupid sometimes it hurts

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long and it’s still not very long, but it DID inspire me to keep going! also yeah, ofc i brought the angst back. bc that was the whole plot. just stupid ppl that cannot communicate right now bc they r afraid!!! also if any of my links are broken pls let me know, im trying to fix them but they decide to work half the time?? Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

July 1986

The breeze is refreshing, despite it blowing your hair into your face. Eddie sits next to you, hands behind his head as he lay in the sun. He’s showing off his tattoos, including the one he’d gotten from you last month, your initials in your handwriting scratched neatly above his hip. In front of you, Robin and Steve splash each other in the lake, both of them shrieking and laughing as the cool water hits their faces. Your heart is full, spending the weekend at Steve’s parents’ unused lake house with your closest friends. Nancy and Jonathan arrive tomorrow, and the five of you have plans to roast marshmallows and sing songs like in all those cheesy horror movies. You could do this every day for the rest of your life, and be perfectly happy. You know Eddie doesn’t feel that way, he gets restless in places so still, and you have this deep, irrational fear that his urge to keep moving will end up being your downfall. But right now, that’s a non-problem. You return to your book, The Harlequin’s Son, as Eddie cranks the boombox up another few notches to blast Beach Boys Surfin USA.

—

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie! Is Sweetheart about Y/n?” “Was Pretty Boy written about you?” “How long have you and Y/n been together?” “Eddie, where’s Y/n?” The questions are hurled at him by fans and journalists alike as he enters the venue, cameras flashing in his face as Steve tries to shield him.

“We have no comment at this time, thank you! Bye!” Steve shoos the mob as well as he can manage, holding his hand out in front of photographers. Eddie keeps his head down, saying nothing as the door swings open for him and his band.

“Hey, they’ll let it go, it’s just fresh right now.” Steve reassured him, a comforting hand landing on his shoulder.

“It’s not them I’m worried about.” He looks around, every backstage of every venue looks the same to him, but you’re in the wings, lugging your guitar and amp to the stage as crew members set up pedal boards and wires. You look up then, and offer Eddie the smallest of smiles that he returns with a shy wave.

“I’m sure Y/n is fine, too.”

“You haven’t talked to them?”

“I’ve been busy with your temperamental ass!” Steve jokes, nudging him. “Besides, they’re a lot stronger than you think.”

“Hey. I know that. You think I don’t know that? We were together for like, four years. That isn’t my point.” It’s his turn to be defensive. He’s never doubted your strength, it’s your temper he’s concerned with. You’re not one to shy away from chewing someone out for a wrong assumption.

He looks from Steve back to you, watching as you chat with a crew member about something. You’re in plain jeans and a tight black t-shirt, your hair tied on top of your head haphazardly.

He feels a second nudge. “Stare more, would ya?” Robin’s appeared on Eddie’s other side.

“Who’s staring? I’m not staring.”

“And I’m not a lesbian. Try to blink, you’ll look less obvious.” Her smirk makes his eye twitch. “Or, y’know. You could just go say hi. Like friends do.”

“Seriously? You’re giving me shit about this too?” Eddie groans, craning his neck to the ceiling in irritation.

“Of course I am! If you guys are gonna do this dance the whole time we’re touring, I'm gonna get my jokes in!” This causes Steve to snicker.

“Listen, I’m only gonna say this once. Y/n and I are adults. You two are being so immature about this. There is absolutely nothing else between us, okay? Nothing.” Steve and Robin exchange a look, and begin to giggle again. “Cut it out!” Eddie whines, then startles when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns around to find you, sparkly eyed with a tight smile on your lips.

“We need to talk.”

—

Your POV

You don’t mention what you’d heard from Eddie’s lips, but you feel your heart sting a little. Nothing else between us? Bullshit. But now isn’t the time to call him out on it.

“What’s up?” Eddie leans against the doorframe of the dressing room, arms crossed casually.

“I just got a call from my label. They, uh, saw the magazine article.” You keep your voice low, not wanting to alert your gaggle of friends hanging out inside the dressing room. “They want us to play into it.”

“Play into it?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow teasingly. You’re sure he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he wants to hear you say it.

You groan. “They want us to be seen together more, out in public. Hold hands and shit.”

“They want us to date for publicity?”

You shrug. “Pretty much.”

“Do you want that?” He sounds sincere, even concerned.

“I don’t know if I have that choice.”

Eddie straightens his posture. “You always have a choice. It’s your life, regardless of what your label wants you to do.”

You sigh. He means well, you know that, but it would be so much more added stress to fight with executives while on tour. “Well, what do you think?”

“You know I’m always down to play tricks on the public,” he laughs, “and if you don’t mind being around me all the time, I’ll definitely do it.” You can’t get a read on him. If he doesn’t have feelings for you, why would he want to pretend?

“Okay. Then let’s play some tricks, yeah?” You offer your hand, and he stares. “You’re supposed to shake it.”

He blinks his stare away, and grasps your right hand in his. “Let’s do it.” He nods, and you can’t help but smile.

—

Your anxiety is skyrocketing tonight. With the added weight of this dating scheme, you barely have the mental capacity to make it through soundcheck.

“Are you okay?” Robin approaches you when you fumble the chords to Pretty Boy again, wincing as you sing the lyrics you’d written so many years ago.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Steve.” You’re whispering, even though you really don’t care if your bandmates find out. But Steve will try to protect you, probably going as far as making a scene in front of the label execs if he deemed necessary, and that was way too much to deal with right now.

“Consider my lips locked.” Robin makes a point of zipping her lips, locking them, and tossing the imaginary key behind her shoulder. You fill her in on your plan, not mentioning your nerves or feelings the entire time.

“And you think this is a good idea?” She asks when you’ve finished your rant. She’s not saying it to bite, she genuinely seems worried for you.

You shrug. “Probably not, but DDA is still new, we could get kicked off the label if we object to them this early. And they talked to CC’s agent already, so we pretty much have to do it.”

“But, what if you get the feelies again? Or worse, what if you don’t get the feelies, and now you’re lying to the world and to yourself?”

“First of all, feelies, Robin? Are we twelve? And secondly, I know. I'm screwed either way. Eddie already said he didn’t have feelings for me, so it’s not like-“

Robin interrupts you, waving her hand frantically. “When did he say that?”

“I overheard him talking to you and Steve earlier. ‘There is nothing else between us. Nothing.’.” You mimic Eddie’s gruff voice as you quote him, warning a chuckle from your bassist.

“You know that’s like, total bullshit, right?”

“No, I don’t! I can’t figure him out anymore, and frankly I don’t see why I have to.”

Robin pinches between her eyes like a disappointed mother. “You don’t. But you should figure your own shit out. Might be healing.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. This could totally be my undoing, I am very aware. But this could also be the push I need to make a decision. Either I’m over him, or I’m not.”

Robin pats your shoulder lovingly. “Okay, babes. Whatever you want. But maybe stop thinking about it until after we rock the shit out of this place, okay?”

You nod, finding the first chord again, and playing it perfectly. “Right. Let’s do this shit.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He taps his foot along anxiously with the house music, currently Blind Melon’s Tones of Home. His pen bounces up and down frantically in his hand, tapping against his frayed leather bound journal. A melody has been stuck in his head all day, but he can’t bring the words to match it. He’s about to throw in the towel when he feels another presence in the room.

He glances up, and his eyes meet with yours in the mirror. He whips his head around, startled by your stealth. “Hey, sw- hey, you.” He chuckles, feeling his cheeks heat up at the slip up. “Sorry, practicing.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips. “Hey. I wanted to be the one to tell you, there’s a lot of press here tonight. I heard Rolling Stone might try talking to you.” Your voice shakes slightly as you deliver the information.

Eddie is far too used to the overwhelming amount of public attention that comes with being a successful musician. It’s something he can’t stand, and you know that well. Nosy reporters were a huge reason he didn’t like when you would go on tour with him when the two of you actually were together. He was insistent on you not being seen with him, because he didn’t want them twisting your image. It was a selfish thing, Eddie realizes now. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but Eddie didn’t want to share you with the world. You were his to protect, and only his to be in love with.

But the world is falling in love with you now, for something you had created without him, and he feels all the pride for you in the world. Every day he wishes he’d been more supportive. Maybe this is his second chance?

“Thank you for the warning.” Eddie answers after a beat too long. You nod your head once, and pivot to leave the room when Eddie hears himself call, “Wait!” You turn to him again, waiting for him to continue. “You, uh, you think you could help me with something?” Eddie’s shy again, suddenly, like he’s back in high school asking you to go to prom with him. And he wasn’t even shy when he asked you to prom.

“Sure, what is it?” You walk deeper into the room, and Eddie moves aside to make room at the small vanity mirror. He slides his open journal toward you, where the page is littered in words crossed out, rewritten, and crossed out again. He snatches his guitar from where it leans against the wall, throwing it over his lap in a swift motion, despite the tight space.

“I have had this thing, this melody stuck in my head all day, and I either need to know if I came up with it, or if I’m remembering it from somewhere.”

He finds the first notes, fingering the strings expertly to a twinkling melody.

—

Your POV

You are really trying to focus on the song he’s playing. It does sound familiar to you, but you can only hear it like this, unfinished and on the fly. You squeeze your eyes shut in concentration, really focusing on the way the song flows together, trying to put words to it that escape you.

Until you figure it out. Your eyes fly open, wide as the memory comes back to you with full force. “Oh my god.” You throw a hand over your mouth.

Eddie stops suddenly, and looks back to you in the mirror. “Shit, is this someone else’s song? I thought I had something really fuckin’ good here!”

“No, no. Well, yes and no.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your confusing response. “It, uh. That’s the song we wrote together. Like, right after graduation, when we went to Steve’s lake house. You played it on that really gross acoustic guitar that was in the garage, the one we found when we were—“ You don’t finish the sentence, knowing the raunchy turn the story takes. “Anyway, we started fuckin’ around with it, ‘member? And you came up with that—“ you point lazily to his guitar still in his lap, “but we never put words to it, we kinda just forgot. That is insane.”

—

Eddie’s POV

The memory washes over him, like a tidal wave pulling him under. You’d had the guitar in your lap, strumming lazy chords as you tuned the old, barely usable guitar that had belonged to Steve’s mother in another life. He remembers how hot that day had been, a record breaking heatwave baking the entirety of the midwest. Your hair was piled high on your head to keep it off your sticky skin, glimmering with perspiration. You wore only a bikini top and shorts, feet bare and dirty with the mud of the backyard. He’d stolen the guitar from you, plucking the same chords he’d just been playing, You’d started humming, then eventually singing, to his music, a soft smile on your face as your eyes closed, focusing on the way the two sounded together. He remembers everything else about that night, too, from the clumsy sex in the shed to the bonfire surrounded by his favorite people.

He finally turns around, his head purposefully craned up to avoid being eye level with your chest. The space between you two is small, and he feels his heart rate quicken. “Oh, shit.” Is all he says, being rendered speechless by the discovery.

“No, I mean, it’s okay! It’s such a pretty tune it’d be a shame if one of us didn’t use it. You should!” He can’t help but hear the slight disappointment in your voice, like you feel something was taken from you, by him. The idea comes almost as quickly as the memory had. “What if we just, put the song out?”

You place a hand on your hip. “What, like as a duet?”

Eddie nods, feeling the hope take hold in his chest. “Yeah! Yeah, we could write it, record it when we stop in New York maybe, or even after the tour if you want. And the suits would eat it up, too. Especially with this whole thing we got goin’ on,” He gestures to the space between your bodies.

“Oh. So this would be like, a money grab for you?” The hurt is clear in your wavering voice, and Eddie’s smile is wiped from his face.

“No, of course not.”

“No, right, but it’s a nice little extra. Have your cake and eat it too, right?” Wrong. So wrong, but what is Eddie supposed to do? Now is not the time to be confessing that he’s still completely enamored with you, head over heels in love. It’s so unfair to you, to both of you, to put that out there right this second.

“I mean, if you wanna look at it like that, yeah. The extra money would be nice. But it would also be cool just to work with you again. For real this time, as friends.” He’s praying it’s a good enough save.

You shrug. “We can try, but I’m not confident in our ability to work together.” There’s a bite to your words, and Eddie winces. “But I gotta go, we’re on in an hour.” You turn, and leave the room with an extra sense of urgency.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie puts his guitar down, and throws his head into his hands.

—

Your POV

You angrily wipe the tear that’s escaped from your tear duct, annoyed with your own sensitivity. You’re absolutely overreacting, but the pain in your throat threatens to suffocate you if you don’t immediately do something about it.

And so, with nothing else running through your mind besides Eddie, the memories of him contrasting deeply with who he’s become, you stomp past your bandmates as they put the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, you slam the bathroom door behind you. You’d swiped the scissors from Harley months ago, and keep them in your toiletries bag for things like this. You grab a fistful of your hair and chop, not stopping to measure the length. You repeat the ritual on the other side, and again across the front of your face. When you’re finished, your hair looks like you lost a bet, your eyes are puffy from crying, and a string of snot has fallen down your face. You wipe it with your sleeve, and quickly change into the outfit hanging up on the towel rack: black sheer tights and a baby pink lingerie nightgown you’d thrifted in Montreal. You throw your leather jacket over it, do your makeup haphazardly as you hold the rest of your tears in, and apply an excessive amount of deodorant. You step out of the bathroom, and are immediately met with the horrified looks of your friends.

“What did you do?!” Sylvie throws their hands over their mouth in shock, and Lilith’s jaw unhinges as she gasps.

You shrug. “Needed a change. Now let’s rock the shit out of this place, huh?”

Your bandmates move to leave the room, not about to engage with your suddenly erratic behavior. You’re grateful for their silence, knowing you probably look ridiculous. This will give the press something else to talk about.

The noise of the crowd grows louder as you approach the wing. “Alright guys, go out there and-“ Steve cuts himself off as his eyes scan over you. “What the hell happened?”

Robin is quick to speak. “They’re fine. Don’t worry about this right now.”

“Right, but there are so many cameras out there, and I-“

“Steve!” Robin interrupts, shaking her head. “Not. Right. Now.”

Steve surrenders, lips tight. “Okay. Right. Go kick some ass!” He hugs each of your bandmates before they go on stage. When he gets to you, he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, and pulls back when he discovers you’re shaking. “Are you alright?”

“Later.” You say shortly. More words about the subject will make you cry again. “I promise.”

“Okay. I love you. Do your thing.” He brings you into his hug, and you relish in your best friend’s warmth for a few seconds too long. The crowd is losing their minds.

“Okay, I gotta go.” And he lets you go. You walk onstage, and are blinded by the stage lights. The crowd never falters, even after seeing your new abomination of a haircut that Harley will surely kill you for later. Cameras flash from all corners of the room while fans whoop and holler for your band.

“What the fuck is up, Portland?!” You scream into the mic, and the answer is thousands of screams in your direction. “I just cut my hair in the bathroom, let’s fuckin’ party!” Lilith clicks her sticks together to count you off, and you launch into the first song of your set.

—

chapter xi

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