#Tommy Hagan Sucks

[ayoooo3]

Baby, There Ain’t a Trail to Follow

By: MidnightRamblings & ResaKaye

Chapter 4: Where Rainbows Never Die

Summary:

A smile tugged at Steve’s lips when he thought about the day to come. He and Eddie had kissed, finally, and it felt like the floodgates had opened. Robin had pulled him aside almost immediately because he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. They’d huddled in the dining hall while the guests ate and Steve told her everything that had happened and begged her to help him plan something for tonight, nothing crazy, but something special. In the end they landed on Robin and Nancy taking care of getting the guests back to the airport and Steve and Eddie would be able to stay back at the ranch and just enjoy each other’s company, Robin was also working with the cook to make sure Steve and Eddie had something special for dinner, but she wouldn't tell him what, just kept saying “I’ve got this covered, you just get him back to your cabin and I’ll handle the food” while Steve grinned like an idiot thinking about what was coming.

With a smile and a sigh Steve pushed up and headed for the barn to get the horses and activities ready, and hopefully see Eddie too.

Keep Reading

[heavencasteel420]

For the director's commentary thing: the section of Tonight, Tonight ch. 1 that starts with "It took Nancy a moment to realize what they were talking about." and ends with "Something broke through the fog of bourbon."

(I'm just so intrigued by Tommy's whole deal in this story.)

Thank you for your ask! I have a lot of Tommy thoughts, so this is going to be split into (a) what's going on in the passage, (b) my headcanons for the Hagan family dynamics, and (c) additional history involving Tommy's older brother Robbie and other characters. I'm not sure how much of this is actually going to get into the story proper, since some of this is stuff I originally thought of for other stories and general headcanons, plus Nancy's view of all of this is pretty limited.

Discussion of Tommy's canon fucked-up behavior, a suicide attempt (the one already referenced in Tonight, Tonight), physical and emotional sibling abuse, bullying, homophobia, and attempted sexual assault.

The Passage

It took Nancy a moment to realize what they were talking about. (The bourbon didn’t help.) Then she remembered the horrible thing Tommy had said back when Will had disappeared, and even a couple of times after he’d died. The last time, he’d made the mistake of saying it within earshot of a teacher, who had berated him within an inch of his life for making up such a cruel rumor.

This is a reference to Tommy's sick joke about Jonathan killing Will. I don't think Tommy particularly has it in for Jonathan as a person. First of all, he wasn't thinking of Jonathan as a real person. Second, Tommy strikes me as someone who says dark or shocking shit because that's his contribution to the group. He's not as good-looking or as much of a star athlete as Steve, but he's tougher, smarter, meaner. He doesn't ever try to beat Steve at his own game--the most he'll do is gravitate to Billy--but he'll do and say sneaky things to undermine him or get him in trouble.

(Tommy's still loyal to Steve in this universe, or at least loyal to him over Billy, who's more subtle in his bullying of Steve because his reputation is more solid. Tommy also has some other stuff going on that’s causing him to reconsider his worldview, as discussed below.)

“If Jonathan Byers heard you and decked you right now,” the teacher had hissed at Tommy, “I would swear in a court of law that he hadn’t. You vile little shit.”

Hawkins is shitty enough that Tommy feels emboldened to make his horrible joke where a teacher can hear, but at least one adult is shocked. Her approach is still essentially to let the kids sort it out themselves, of course. Jonathan's pretty much on his own.

Which, of course, wasn’t how teachers were supposed to speak to students, but Tommy, for all his faults, had his own sense of fair play. He’d only whined about it to Steve and Carol, whose reactions had been, respectively, “man, I told you not to say that shit, that’s messed up” and “yeah, we know it’s a joke, but obviously some ex-hippie teacher who still listens to John Denver is gonna hate that shit, what did you expect.” (Nancy had been present for these conversations, but too busy going over all the terrible things that could have happened to Barb to offer a response.) Then Tommy had dropped the subject.

Tommy's also going to handle things himself, like the under-supervised Gen X kid he is. Steve remains squeamish about the child murder joke and, while it doesn't shock Carol, she doesn't have Tommy's attention-seeking tendencies.

(Jonathan actually did hear the "joke," but he had so much bad shit going on that he was kind of like "yeah, seems like the kind of blood-curdlingly cruel thing Tommy Hagan would say." Ironically, Steve's dismissive "that's depressing" bothered him more, because Steve wasn't trying to be shocking; that was a thoughtless expression of the town's opinion on his family.)

But, it turned out, he hadn’t forgotten it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy said, staring at the carpet. “I know. Obviously Byers had a lot of reasons to check out early. I don’t know if he even heard that shit I said. Just…I don’t know, it’s too weird. One second, you’re going to school with a guy. Then he ends up in Pennhurst and you’re looking at his blood at the floor.”

It got a little too real for Tommy! Not so much because he thinks he's a major cause of Jonathan's suicide attempt (in reality the culmination of months of unresolved guilt and grief, plus despair at having to live with Lonnie, plus just not thinking clearly due to exhaustion and malnutrition), but because he thought for the first time what it'd be like to be Jonathan—a human being, not an unfeeling repository for rumors—and hear that comment.

2. The Hagan Family

Tommy is also experiencing some changes in his family life that are causing him to question certain things. His siblings, twins Robbie and Marianne, are two years his senior. His mother vastly, overtly prefers Robbie to her other children. In Mrs. Hagan's eyes, Marianne is an annoying, negative whiner who's jealous of Robbie and Tommy is just Robbie's younger brother who looks up to him So Much. (Mr. Hagan is kind of checked out, thanks to serious chronic pain issues that nobody really understands.) Robbie was universally hailed as an Ideal Boy during his time at Hawkins High, too. He looks like Rob Lowe, he was a star athlete who's still playing basketball for IU, and every subsequent popular boy is kind of compared unfavorably to him. Steve absolutely adores Robbie, who used to pontificate about girls and sports and life to him and Tommy, and he has a whole thing about how he'll never be as smart or as great at basketball as him. Jason has prayed a great deal on his unChristian envy of Robbie. And Billy has too much persona to admit it, but one time he overheard someone call him a "white-trash Robbie Hagan" and it really hurt his feelings.

At home, though, Robbie frequently bullied both Marianne and Tommy. With Marianne, it was obvious and ugly: constantly tearing her down verbally, ruining her things, sabotaging her schoolwork, even cutting off her ponytail after she yelled at him for leaving her to do all the chores. With Tommy, it was more plausibly deniable: playing very rough with him when they were younger, putting him in dangerous and even potentially fatal situations as a joke, cruelly mocking his masculinity to control his behavior or just to knock him down a peg. Marianne complained and was demonized by their mother, while Tommy sort of accepted this treatment as his due and viewed his relationship with Robbie as normal and positive.

Then Robbie left home to attend IU on a basketball scholarship. Marianne, the un-favorite and a girl to boot, got into college and received a pretty decent scholarship, but her parents refused to pay the rest so she's stuck living at home and attending community college for a couple years. Mrs. Hagan has been pretty down in the dumps since Robbie left for school, bemoaning that it's just not the same with only Marianne and Tommy around. Tommy finds these remarks increasingly dispiriting. Like, yeah, he misses Robbie, too, but he's not nothing, right? He's also come to realize that he has more room to breathe without Robbie constantly picking at him and sucking up all the air in the room. He's even started to see Marianne in a new light. Previously annoyed with her hostility towards Robbie and willing to join in on Robbie's bullying of her, he's coming to appreciate how difficult her life has been in their house and how little she's really held his allegiance with Robbie against him. She's still somewhat wary of him, but she gets why he did what he did and they've started to bond a little bit. He knows she's going to be leaving home in about a year, too, and finds himself feeling bummed out about it.

Finally, there was an incident at the Hagan family's 1984 Fourth of July barbeque that cemented his changing feelings towards his family. Which brings us to...

3. Robbie, Carol, and Jonathan

This is where the homophobia and attempted sexual assault come in. I'm going to put a caveat that I thought of this part before changing Jonathan's situation to be one of sexual exploitation, and now I feel like there might be a lot of sexual assault for a story that's not centrally about that. However: this was always a story about people, especially young people, being isolated and falling through the cracks in society, and rape culture very much ties into that. Also, I tried not to make it sensationalistic at any point.

So, Robbie has a certain kind of nebulous reputation among the girls (popular, pretty, around his age) that people expect him to sleep with. He's not violent or threatening, but he's a player and he always gives the impression that the girl has lost some contest with him by "giving in." It's subtle--he's not going "I don't respect you anymore because you had sex with me"--but even girls who went in with the attitude of "I want to have sex with Robbie Hagan because he's hot and have no expectation of a relationship" end up feeling kind of slimed on. He also has sexual relationships with girls whom he refuses to acknowledge in public--less popular, more insecure, slightly younger girls, mostly--and he's more devious and pushy with them. And he has ventured into even more sinister territory on a couple of occasions, once with Jonathan and once with Carol.

The incident with Jonathan happens in the summer of 1982, when Jonathan is a rising freshman working under the table at the Hawk and Robbie is a rising senior. Robbie finds him alone cleaning up the cinema and repeatedly asks him for a handjob. Another employee walks into the cinema before things can escalate, but, due to Robbie's superior age/strength and the isolated location, the situation is pretty volatile and frightening. Jonathan is basically like "well, nothing happened, ultimately, so I'm just never going to deal with that." But after Will's "death"--which appears to have been brought about partially by someone trying to run him off the road--Jonathan, especially in dreams, starts to mull over a bunch of rough shit that he went through, because he wanted to protect Will from going through that stuff (whether that meant Lonnie's bullshit or scarier bullying from older kids or the effects of poverty) and feels that he failed.

Tommy doesn't know about this incident, but Robbie--pretty confident that poor, crazy Joyce Byers's weird, possibly queer kid isn't going to tell anyone and that it would backfire on him if he tried--nevertheless makes a preemptive strike and makes sure to tell Tommy to watch out for that Byers kid, because he's a queer and you never know what they'll do. This isn't the first or last rumor of this kind about Jonathan, but it doesn't exactly make his life easier, either.

With Carol, Robbie came home from college in the summer of 1984 and attended his family's Fourth of July barbecue. Carol, Tommy's girlfriend since middle school, is invited. Robbie thinks she looks good, he feels entitled to her attention, and he's already in a resentful mood due to some family stuff (Tommy is glad to see him but not exactly worshipful, Marianne has come out of her shell which he interprets as being "full of herself," and Mrs. Hagan is falling all over him). So he tries to get his hand up Carol's shirt while her hands are full with some casserole dish. Unfortunately for him, Carol is not as scared or awed as most of the younger people he approaches, so she screams at him and dumps a terrifyingly Midwestern salad all over his ass. The rest of the Hagans come running, and the fallout is tremendous. Tommy isn't in a place where he can confront Robbie too directly, but he sides with Carol and takes her back to her house, where she tells her mom about it and they all end up having Fourth of July lunch together. Marianne knows Robbie's bad news and sides with Carol, too. Mrs. Hagan is livid, calling Carol a liar and a slut and her two other children ungrateful traitors. Mrs. Perkins (Carol's mom) calls to give Mrs. Hagan a piece of her mind.

In the end, it doesn't go beyond the two families. (Even Steve doesn't know.) Carol is assertive but even she can't deal with being the girl who tried to stir up shit between golden boy Robbie and his own brother. Her folks are furious on her behalf but are realistic and agree that it would play out that way. Mrs. Hagan gives Carol the cold shoulder but doesn't want to push things with her folks, or even acknowledge that Tommy has real reason to resent his brother. Marianne ends up absorbing most of her frustration, and she's just like, "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd do, you horrible fucking woman." Meanwhile Robbie's sulking because he's tired of all the drama that he caused.

This is obviously pretty elaborate for a couple of minor characters in this fanfic and I don't know how much this is going to show up in the story, but it kind of percolated in the back of my mind of its own accord.

[no-context-nonsense]

New year… same problems

[thepossummoldypasta]

Hidden In The Woods

In the woods around Hawkins there is a van, and in that van lives an Eddie. Not a nasty beat-up van in constant need of repair, nor is it a creepy van that looks like it belongs to a serial killer; It’s Eddie's van and that means comfort. It has a perfectly undented body painted green and a mattress in the back. Or well, he doesn't actually live in the van. It's a nice van sure but Eddie lives in a doublewide trailer with his uncle, not his van–no matter how often they joke about it. 

(and there is a small chance he’s lying when he says it doesn't constantly break down)

He’s heading to his van now actually. 

Eddie longs for the ability to teleport at times like this; he’s trudging through the woods after a particularly fucked drug deal, and all he wants is to be in the back of his beloved shitbox, wrapped in blankets and smoking a joint. 

But Eddie can't magically teleport to the van and he also can’t ban Tommy Hagan from buying his weed–who was a major ass today by the way–because he gets most of his income from the jerk. 

He also can’t park closer to where he deals, which sucks. Eddie knows Hopper looks for his van parked on the side roads, so woods it is. Boo.

It's not that much farther….

And it's a nice day...

Plus the trees are pretty…

Eddie loves fall: the trees light up so magically in the sunbeams like a leafy fire, he sees more gray squirrels dancing about the forest floor this time of year, and Halloween is just awesome. 

This Halloween especially. He led a bitchin’ Halloween one-shot with his new DnD club this year and nothing could sour his mood for almost a week afterward. Even though there was some weird pumpkin blight that year that meant no jack-o-lanterns and the controlled burns in the woods behind Forrest Hills kept him up at night all that month. 

Plus he had a really good fall break so far. 

Okay, maybe things aren't sooooo bad. Trust a walk in nature to clear his head. Now that he’s calmed down Eddie can appreciate how nice everything is. 

Wait.

Eddie definitely didn't leave the back of the van open when he left.

Maybe things are shit and Eddie is an idiot. 

Fuck 

He’s lanky and gangly and has no weapon to defend himself with, but Eddie still creeps closer to the doors. 

Hagan couldn't have gotten here before Eddie, so he’s probably not going to get jumped for selling him overpriced weed. Maybe a really smart, really lucky,  raccoon just so happened to get the door open? More likely Eddie opened the damn thing himself, completely forgot about it, and is now making mountains out of molehills…

He props a hand on the closed door and peeks around it into the dim back. And promptly reels back in shock falling flat on his ass. 

It's a total Occam's Razor moment. The easiest and most simple solution is that the universe hates Eddie Munson. Because that's definitely Steve Harrington in the back of his van. He’s snuggled deep into Eddie’s blankets and smelling distinctly more omega than the last time he saw the guy. But it's Steve alright. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck 

What the fuck is Steve Harrington doing in the back of Eddie’s van? He’s never even had a conversation with the guy!

What do you do in this situation! 

Steve’s obviously nested back there, and if He was completely scentless before the fall break he’s gotta be fresh off his presentation heat, so like hell is Eddie going to go barging in–that's a surefire way to get his face ripped off–but Eddie also needs to get in that van eventually! 

He Raises back up on shaky legs, poking his head fully into the back; and takes another good, hard, look. 

There is still a person in the back of his van. A whole-ass person who wasn't in his van when he left. A person who is without a doubt, Steve. 

A rustle of movement, a quick shifting of blankets, pulls Eddie back to reality. There’s a cute little chirr from the nest followed swiftly by chestnut waves of hair shimming out into the open. Eddie isn't even given time to react before doe-eyes bleary with sleep blink down at him. 

“Eddie!” 

And oh isn't that the sweetest little chirp. Eddie watches in astonishment as the omega wiggles to prop himself up against the back of the driver's seat, chirping adorably all the while.  Eddie can't decide if he’s more mystified by The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins™ cuddled up back there, or That he knows Eddie’s name. 

Now that the omega isn't completely cocooned, Eddie can smell that faintest hint of mint that Steve is throwing into the air paired with heady lavender and it draws him in. Before he even realizes he’s followed his nose and clambered into the back of the van… his van. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie starts slowly. Are you comfy?” It's an innocent enough question. Hopefully, if he plays it casually, Steve won't decide Eddie’s a threat and rend him to dust for being in the poor Omega’s space.  

Steve didn't seem to understand at first cooing a cute, drawn-out  “Hi, Eddie” but eventually he blinked owlishly and replied with a smile “So cozy”. 

“That’s nice sweetheart, but how bout we get you to your nest, hmm?” the alpha tries to suggest. Oh but now Steve looks a bit confused; drawing his brows together and pouting. 

“Nest? ‘M in my nest?” Steve says (well actually he whines it, but Eddie is trying to ignore that lest his heart break). Crap what does he do now?

“I–I know you’re nesting right now, uh–but wouldn’t you be–wouldn't you feel better at home?” Eddie reasons. 

“But there’s no nest there!” Steve whines again “They wont let me have a nest! I wanna stay here” 

“Okay, Okay” Eddie soothes in a hushed voice,” you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to sweetheart” Eddie is in so much trouble. Now that he knows Steve won't be pissed at him for being so close, Eddie’s having a hell of a time not being closer.  

Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.  

Eddie coos from a distance until the whines and whimpers peter out and are replaced by soft sleepy snuffles. 

“How did you even get here, big boy?” Eddie questions. The thought has been plaguing him, what happened while he was away?

“I was taking a walk” Steve starts, he lays his head down and his eyes flutter closed before he continues. “I needed to get away and I went into the woods. I got turned around but you saved me.”

“I saved you?” How the hell did he do that? 

“Mmm hmmm, I smelled ya” Steve hums” smelled so good so I followed.” ok, even more confused now. Eddie has an…unconventional scent–basil and tobacco leaf–he can't imagine someone trekking through the woods to find something that smells like pasta sauce and cigarettes. And how long was Steve lost in the woods, how long was he wandering, cold and alone, with only a scent trail for comfort. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Uh yes?” Eddie focuses back on reality, ready to face whatever he’s about to be asked.

“If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn't you wake me with a kiss?” nope not ready for that. 

“Would you? Uh Do–did you want me to?” Steve nods against the soft blanket pillowed underneath him.  

Oh. 

Eddie feels his resolve crack and threatens to shatter. He can't take advantage of Steve when he’s so vulnerable. Is he vulnerable? Steve isn't still in heat, his mind is sound. But he is upset.  Best to leave it be for now. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” 

Dang it.

Steve shoots up–ramrod-like–to nod ecstatically. Eddie's resolve shatters.  Absolutely not helped by Steve’s little please, please, pleases. 

“Okay” 

It's not like there's anyone around to judge him.

It’s like the movies, the way they lean in close and steal each other's breath. Steve tastes like honeyed sunshine. It sweetens the omega’s lavender-mint tea smell in a way that Eddie knows he’ll crave till the day he gets buried six feet under.  Eddie can't tell where he ends and his darling omega begins, drawn so close together that their purrs rattle in both chests. 

Only the lack of oxygen drives them apart, though Eddie tries to fight it. 

“I’ll do better next time princess” the alpha rumbles with care. 

They seal the deal with another perfect kiss. 

Hell yeah.

================================================

based on this post Special thanks to @starshideurfics for inspiring me to have Eddie call Steve sleeping beauty like a SIMP

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

[sp0o0kylights]

I saw a video today that said, “It’s very uncomfortable as an adult when your friend starts to date somebody who sucks, and you’re all looking at each other going ‘Guys, if this is the person who makes them happy…I think collectively as a unit we can agree that we would rather see them sad. So what's the plan?’” 

And immediately went: modern Steddie AU were Steve dates his high school friend Tommy and everyone is tearing their hair out over how awful he’s being treated. 

Ft. the Party, led by Dustin, hounding Eddie “I could get a man in a SECOND, I just CHOOSE not to date” Munson for help

However:

Eddie is mostly thinking the entire thing is a joke (King Steve and Tommy Hagan? Gay? Together?? Nice try Henderson.) until he runs into Robin. She laments that yeah, they’re bi, but more importantly, Tommy is fucking awful and Steve refuses to see it. 

2. Eddie, maybe, kind of, still has a crush on Steve ("Stop laughing Gareth, everyone has--had! Had a crush on him!") and the guy was never THAT bad in high school---but Tommy Hagan definitely was and a little revenge would be fun.

and finally;

3. Instead of going with the kids' well intentioned but very misguided “Let’s get Eddie to Steal Steve” plan, Eddie meets up with the Robin/Nancy/Jonathan/Argyle/Chrissy dream team to figure out how to prove to Steve that Tommy is horrible. 

Bonus: Robin and Nancy come up with a full proof multi step plan that involves Eddie pissing off Tommy in ways that look completely innocent. The hope is that Steve will see how controlling and unreasonable Tommy is, and break it off.

This hurts no one and just highlights to Steve Tommy's behavior.

Of course, Eddie goes off the rails immediately upon meeting Steve.

Instead of following The Plan, he, with the kids permission and help, gets Tommy to get blow up about THEM.

This is far more successful.

Bonus x2: A large amount of shenanigan's with the kids vs Tommy are involved. As is a scene were Steve breaks down and admits he knows Tommy is terrible, but Tommy puts up with him and Steve "knows how he is."

Eddie goes home, prints out a picture of Tommy and throws cheap ren fair daggers at it for at least three solid hours while he tries to think up ways to prove to Steve Harrington that his parents are wrong, hes very lovable actually.

In fact Eddie would very much like a shot at trying it out, thanks!

(It is also, inevitably, successful.)

[sadhours]

love letters

Billy hargrove x f!reader

Cw: 18+, minors dni, blackmail, oral (m receiving), fingering and unprotected p in v

This was kinktober but better late than never

💙❤️💜💛

He lays the letter on your dresser, a smug smirk on his face as he turns back to you. Hooks his thumb in his belt as he looks you up and down, like you’re something to eat. Wolfish is the only way you could describe it, and you’re little red riding hood.

“If I do this, you’ll leave it here, right?” you ask, voice as shaky as you feel. A mess of nerves.

Billy nods slowly, brings his thumb up to his lower lip and slides it across as he keeps looking at you like that.

It’s a love letter. One you’d written for Tommy Hagan. Billy snatched it from your binder in fourth period and read it. He laughed, stared right into your horrified, wide eyes and laughed. Then he wouldn’t give it back. Threatened to show Tommy and then worse, threatened to show Carol. And you know she’d kick your ass. So you begged. Said you’d do anything. You didn’t think he’d suggest this, though.

“Let’s get to it then. On your knees,” he tells you.

With a reluctant sigh, you obey and sink down to your knees in front of him. You’re anxious, knowing you have exactly three and half hours before your parents get home from work. Billy starts undoing his belt, gets it unbuckled and then pauses. He asks you, “What the hell do you see in that fag anyways?”

You’d really rather not further incriminate yourself. So you huff, “Can we just get this over with?”

“Nah,” Billy shakes his head, “Fess up.”

“I think he’s cute.”

Billy laughs, “That fucker? Really?”

“So what?” you reply, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t think I’m cute?” he asks, a sarcastic pout to his lips. He hears it all the time, you’re sure. Why the hell does he need to hear it from you?

“Everyone does. What’s your point?” you argue.

Billy shrugs, “Not as cute as Hagan. Okay, then. I get it. We don’t have the history. What did you say in the letter? You’ve had the hots for him since junior high?”

“Billy,” you groan, “I’d really just like to get on with this so I can get my letter back.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and then gets started with the buttons on his jeans, “You’re such a brat.”

Once he’s done with the buttons, he pushes his briefs and jeans down his thighs and his cock springs out. You watch it bob up and down, shamefully a little— okay, a lot, intrigued. It’s thick and long. You haven’t seen one this size and now you’re really nervous. How are you gonna fit it in your mouth?

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Bigger than Hagan’s.”

You raise an eyebrow, because how the heck would he know that? And Billy sees the look before he rolls his eyes again and says, “Oh, shut up. Locker room .”

You wonder if all the guys look at each other. You know you keep your eyes to the floor in the locker room but maybe it’s different for them.

“You seemed so eager. C’mon, now,” Billy says as he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and points it down to you.

A sigh exits your lips as you prop yourself up a little taller and slowly wrap your lips around the head of him. It feels… strange. Heavy but in a good way. And warm, almost hot to the touch. It tastes interestingly salty. You give an experimental suck and Billy inhales sharply. Upon looking up, his eyes are on you and it makes you even more nervous. You tense up and swallow, around his cock.

Billy grunts and then tilts his head, “Relax, would ya?”

You pull off and look at him, drool connecting your lips to the head of his cock as you reply, “I’m trying.”

“Never done this before?” he asks, pushing your hair back.

Your face heats up, all kinds of embarrassed as he’s clocked you. Yeah, you’ve messed around with guys before. Not this, though. Mostly over the pants stuff and dry humping. You try not to think about how many girls have done this to Billy. Though since his arrival, you’ve heard rumors of about six.

“You haven’t, huh?” he strokes your forehead with his thumb and laughs, all soft this time. Doesn’t sound cruel. “That’s cute. Take your time, go slow. Just relax. It’ll come naturally, okay?”

You offer a nod before taking his tip back in your mouth. And he’s right because without being totally conscious of it, you swipe your tongue along the underside of his tip— along the ridge where it meets the rest of his cock. He hums, satisfied and strokes the top of your head. You take it as a good sign and take him a little deeper, keeping your tongue pressed to the underside of him.

The way he’s treating you now is a complete 180 of before. It’s almost… sweet? Romantic, even. You press your hands to his exposed thighs and try for more. But he hisses, presses his thumb to the middle of your forehead and tells you, “Teeth, watch your teeth.”

You know your face has to be pink from embarrassment but you listen to him. Now, much more aware of where your teeth are. Taking him an inch deeper, you blink up at him. Kind of waiting for more direction. And he gives it to you.

“Suck,” he suggests. “Go back up and down. Watch those teeth, use your tongue.”

You nod subtly as you pull back and then forward, sucking as hard as you can. Billy kisses again, “Gentle, we don’t gotta rush this, yeah?”

Closing your eyes, you repeat all his instructions in your head. You’re determined to make this good for him, make sure he doesn’t share the love letter. His eyelids flutter closed just as yours open, bobbing your head up and down languidly while you use your tongue as a barrier between his cock and your teeth. You suck him, much gentler and you keep your eyes trained on his face so you can learn from his expressions. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, eyelids closed softly while his brows knit closer together. The more you work, the wetter you get. Almost overwhelmingly so. You find yourself whining against the mouthful, squirming where you’re sat on your legs. Billy’s eyes open at that, peering down at you as his lips curl up.

“You like it, huh?” he slides his fingers through your hair and purrs, “That’s a good girl.”

That makes you feel weightless, pouring out more whines around his girthy cock. He exhales, a low grumble of sorts, “Fuck, feels good when you do that.”

You’re excited now, feeling all warm and fuzzy from pleasing him and you just want to do more. You try to take him deeper in your mouth but you gag, pulling off of him to catch your breath after coughing against the back of your wrist.

“You’re okay,” he tells you, scratching comfortingly against your scalp. “Breathe through your nose, yeah? Relax your throat, you can take me deeper, okay?”

With a little nod, you wrap your hand around his base again and try again. As deep as you can go, taking his advice and breathing through your nose and relaxing as much as you can. The weight is something else, the taste of his soft skin makes you moan against his shaft and he moans back through clenched teeth. You blink, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you work your lips up and down his hard cock. Your eyes meet his and the look of his are intoxicating, make you feel warm all over. His dark eyelashes frame the lustful gaze on you. God he’s pretty, so pretty you’ve completely forgotten about Tommy Hagan.

“That’s a good girl,” he repeats, expression on his face a lot more needy than before and it makes you feel powerful. You can’t believe you’re doing this to someone. Let alone Billy Hargrove. “That’s it… told ya, natural… yeah?”

You pull off of him abruptly, mirroring the desperation in your eyes as you squirm where you’re sat and you have no idea how to tell him this. That you’re feeling frustrated by how aroused this has made you. Billy’s smart though, smart in this kind of thing at least. He reaches for your arms and pulls you up, face an inch from yours. He cradles your jaw in his hands and kisses you. You make a shocked sound but ultimately melt into it, just as his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing your hips.

Billy’s tongue is warm and heavy as it slides past your lips and meets your own. He turns you both around, guides you to your bed and crawls on top of you without breaking the kiss. Billy kisses a lot more intensely than you’ve ever been kissed. There’s this urgency there and it’s much more sloppy than you’re used to. Lots of tongue and it’s making you feel dizzy. His cock rubs against your thigh as he licks into your mouth, causing you to gasp.

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at you and it’s pretty intimidating. All this attention on you isn’t something you’ve experienced before and Billy’s hand hovers between your bodies.

“Can I touch you?” he asks but he doesn’t look nervous so you don’t know why he’s asking.

“Yes,” you reply, quickly.

He bares his teeth in a grin and they’re so white and straight. You blink rapidly, awaiting the feeling. Billy’s hand sinks into your waistband, into your underwear and his large hand cups your heat. You inhale sharply, eyes crossing a little bit and Billy actually laughs. You’d feel embarrassed but he slides his middle finger up through your slit, feeling just how wet you are and you moan loudly. His smile doesn’t falter, but he leans down to kiss your lips softly.

Muttering against them, “You really liked sucking me off, huh? You’re soaking wet, doll.”

You just nod, moaning out steadily as he continues dragging his finger up and down your slit. He misses the most sensitive part but you think he does it on purpose because while Billy’s acting very differently now, you know deep down he’s mean or at the very least, a brat. Your legs are shaking, bent at the knee as you spread them wider for him in a silent beg for him to do more yet he just keeps teasing. Eyes boring into yours as he continues stroking up and down, so slow. You whimper, wiggling your hips as you try to get him to give you what you want. He chuckles, low and maybe a little cruel, but he mostly sounds entertained. Like he’s enjoying this game, like he wants you to beg.

It’s confirmed when he moves his finger to where your thighs meet your pelvis and he pouts down at you, “Does baby want more?”

“Yes,” you plead at the opportunity, “Please, please, more!”

“So needy,” he shakes his head and smirks down at you, “Begging already.”

Billy leans down and licks against your lips, “Guess you have earned it, though.”

Just as he licks into your mouth, he pressed two firm fingertips against your clit and you’re impressed as he moves them in circles. It takes you some time on your own to find the right motions but Billy’s doing it instantly, like he just knows how. Your back arches, hands shooting up to grab onto his biceps as a lewd moan rips through you. He pushes the digits down to your entrance and he circles it, tantalizing you in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You’re unable to kiss back as he slips a thick finger inside of you, moaning gratefully against his mouth.

He hums, laughing softly as he pumps his finger in and out of you, “God, you’re tight… I’m gonna have to stretch you out before I can fit.”

“Fit?” you gasp, eyes wide as you look at him.

“Yeah,” he nudges his nose against yours, “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Like, you mean…” you swallow hard.

Billy nods, biting his lip as he looks at you, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, I know it’s your first time.”

“You do?” you ask, eyes crossing again as he slips in a second finger, slowly stretching you out like he promised.

He drops a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, it was written all over your face when you saw my cock.”

The gentleness he’s giving you is such a stark difference to the Billy you know and god, it’s making your head swim. You feel special, that he wants you like this. That harsh exterior falling down and showing you this foreign and downright lovely side of him. You wrap your arms around his neck, rolling your hips up as you reply with a smile, “Okay.”

And Billy wasn’t outright asking, but it was like he was asking permission, in his own way. He leans down and kisses you again, curling his fingers and you get lost in the feeling of it all. The bliss his fingers deliver and the sweetness of his lips. Billy sure has a talent of making girls feel special…

After a while, he pulls his fingers out, nudges his nose against yours again and asks, voice all soft and pretty, “Think you’re ready?”

Nodding, you tighten your arms around his neck and he gives your nose a soft kiss before reaching his hands down and starts pulling your pants and underwear down. Kicks his boots and jeans off completely and then he’s on you again, kissing you slow and sensual. Kisses you the whole time he presses his cock to your entrance. It’s an odd feeling, but with his warming you up and the way he’s aroused you beyond belief, the tip slides in easily. You cry out at the sensation and he swallows it down, darts his tongue out to soothe you and drags it against your own.

You break the kiss as he sinks in deeper and shove your face against his neck. Billy’s so close to you, you can really smell his cologne. Musky, ambery and so wonderful. You can’t control yourself as your tongue rolls out to taste. He groans, his hips snapping forward and you yelp from the movement. He’s completely inside you now, and it burns. You grit your teeth, little whimpers falling from you.

“Sorry, sorry— I,” he laughs softly and kisses the side of your head, “I didn’t mean to do that…”

You did that to him, you think. You focus on that thought as you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He keeps his hips still, keeps kissing the side of your head as his hand comes to your hip, and he squeezes it.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he tells you, rubbing his against your neck now.

“Billy…” you whisper, turning your head and he pulls back to look at you. He’s so pretty you feel dizzy.

“You okay?” he checks in, strokes his thumb against your cheekbone and you nod.

“You can move,” you tell him and he laughs, a sweet and soft one.

“Like this?” he rolls his hips gently and your eyes roll back before closing as a moan pours out of you. “That’s a yes.”

He does it again and again, watching your face react to the feel of him. Your legs spread further, your own hips rolling up to meet his and you open your eyes to watch him watch you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, sounds like he means it and now you’re a little in awe. Billy likes you. That’s why he took the letter, that’s why he did all of this. You’re flooded with emotion, you’ve never felt this wanted before, this important to a man. Tears form at your waterline and stream down your face and Billy’s hips still.

“You okay? Does it hurt?” he asks, looking all kinds of worried and you’re embarrassed you’re crying but you giggle and shake your head.

“Sorry, it feels good, I’m— I don’t know why I’m crying,” you confess and Billy smiles, strokes your hair and leans down to kiss you softly.

“Feels so good I made you cry?”

“Something like that,” you whisper and roll your hips, “Please, don’t stop.”

He picks up the pace, but as he does so, he locks his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. His hands move to push your top up and he caresses your breasts, fingers lightly graze against your perked nipple and he licks against your lip. You let him in, suck on his tongue as this intense pressure builds in the pit of your stomach. It’s so overwhelming, more tears spill from your eyes.

Then Billy reaches between your legs, fingers meeting your clit and he moves them in time with thrusts and it’s so much, too much and you’re shrieking against his mouth as the waves of your orgasm slam into you. Billy keeps his ministrations until you’re squirming around and breaking the kiss.

“Billy!! Ah!!”

“Cum for me, that’s it,” he purrs, “God, you look so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You ride through it, Billy following short behind. Pulls out and spills his climax onto your stomach in thick, heavy spurts. He whines as he does it and you can’t help but think he’s the one who looks gorgeous.

He collapses beside you on the bed for a beat and sits up, glances around your room for something to clean up with. He finds a washcloth and you don’t say anything about it being for makeup as he cleans his spunk off your tummy. He gets dressed and you’re hit with sadness. Thinking he’s just gonna leave. But he pats your thigh and tells you, “Get dressed. I need a smoke.”

You giggle and listen to him and before you head out of the room, you grab the letter and rip it in half. Billy looks at you with a satisfied grin.

“Tommy who?”

“Tommy who,” you blush.

“You’re gonna have to write one for me now,” he kisses your cheek.

“I do.”

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate

Welcome to the little story I was working on during my move! Just a fun little thing to keep my writing streak going without have to dive into my heavy hitters.

The original idea is here.

I originally planned to go farther than the original idea like season 2-4 but as I was just needing something lighthearted it became a short little story three chapters long that might get turned into a series of What if's.

Summary: After the events surrounding Will Byers and his return to life, Steve has decided he can't control anything in his life but school, so he seeks to put a stop to the bullying. Cue Eddie getting heart-eyes over popular King Steve protecting his little sheepies. So he decides Steve needs a knew title. Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will work just fine.

~

Steve was still reeling from actual fucking monsters and shit. And he actually had to go to school the following Monday like none of it had happened.

Fuck, they didn’t even offer therapy, just NDAs and money to keep their mouths shut. He had no doubt that the Byers family and Nancy had the worst of it, so he wasn’t even mad that she broke up with him.

He got it more than most people that she needed to time to grieve the lost of her best friend, be with family and hold them close for awhile.

It sucked.

Steve wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t, because it absolutely did. But he understood. He told Nancy that if she ever needed a friend to give him a call.

His temper was short and his capacity for bullshit was low, that was the only reason he could come up with what happened that Monday morning.

He walked into the hall that held his locker to his books for the day when he saw Tommy H. having a go at some freshman. Like this kid still looked like he was in elementary, he looked that little.

“Knock it off, Hagan,” Steve huffed. “There is no reason to be harassing this kid.”

Tommy turned around and got in his face. “What’s it to you, Harrington? I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Dude,” Steve said, stepping forward instead of back like Tommy thought he would, “why are you so angry all the time? Chill out.”

Tommy’s head reared back as though he’d been struck in the face. He pushed Steve away. “Again, what’s it to you? You want to be friends again now that Miss Priss is finished with your scaly ass? Because where was my loyalty? We’ve been friends for years and you threw it all away for some piece of ass!”

Steve didn’t even stumble, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what you did was over the line and you did it anyway. Because that’s the problem, Hagan, isn’t it? You don’t know where the fucking line is, do you?”

Tommy frowned and tried to push him again, but Steve just let his body slide with the motion and it didn’t even hurt. Tommy stared at him for a moment before stalking off down the hallway to his own locker. Steve just shook his head and went over to the kid who Tommy had been bullying.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked gently, helping him pick up his books. “If he does that again, you come running for me. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington, just ask around, someone will know how to find me, yeah?”

The kid nodded and took the books back from Steve before he took off in a tear. Steve sighed and he put his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom.

He looked around the hall to see everyone staring at him in shock. And that was when he realized what he had done.

Last week, he might have called Tommy off, but not really done anything about it. But he had not only called Tommy off, he put him in his place, and then helped the kid.

Yeah that was quite the turn around. So he just did like he would have done at basketball game.

He clapped his hands together once, nice and loud to make sure everyone was paying attention to him even more now.

“Right,” he said loudly. “Nothing more to see here. Move along now.”

They stared at him in even further shock now.

“Come on,” Steve said impatiently. “Move along. Shoo!” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to get them leave, but it was like herding cats.

Someone slammed their locker and that broke them out of their trance allowing them to move about their day like that didn’t just happen.

Steve looked around and saw Eddie Munson leaning against his locker, with his arms crossed. A locker, Steve was pretty sure was open when he walked in that morning.

Huh.

That was certainly interesting.

~

Eddie had been having a rough morning. He spilled milk on his only clean pair of jeans. He was going to do laundry after school. He was! He just didn’t do it over the weekend because he had gotten a new book. A book that was currently being painstakingly dried out by Uncle Wayne with an old hair dryer, because Eddie dropped it in the sink. Then he almost forgot his homework and had to run back for it. He had managed to get to school on time, but Tommy H. had decided to chose violence that morning against a nerdy little freshman literally next to his locker.

He promised Uncle Wayne that if Tommy started something that he wouldn’t fucking finish it. He needed to graduate from high school and as it much as it sucked ass, he had to look the other way.

So imagine his surprise when Steve got in Tommy’s face and almost threw hands with the guy, telling him to back off. What was even more surprising was how quickly Tommy stood down.

But that wasn’t the last of Steve Harrington’s surprises, oh no...

He helped the kid gather up his stuff and offered himself as a white knight if Tommy did it again. But by then Harrington had drawn quite the crowd, but instead of soaking the attention like the full tilt diva the asshole jock most certainly was, he had tried to disperse the crowd. Like the attention had made him uncomfortable.

So he thought he’d throw the king a bone and slammed his locker shut. The loud noise startled the populous out of their stupor and sent them packing. He was more than a little shocked to see that maybe Steve had figured out who had rescued him.

And wasn’t that a kick in the head.

By the time he got to lunch news had spread that that morning’s incident was only the start of the king’s campaign to clean up the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. According to ye ole rumor mill, Steve had broken up a fight, called out two accounts of bullying, and stopped a class from rioting when the teacher had a medical emergency.

What was even more surp– he needed to find another word. Shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Mind-boggling.

Anyway Steve sat down next to Carol and Tommy. Like even the great ex Nancy Wheeler dropped her fork, flabbergasted.

Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Tommy growled. “Why don’t you sit next to your girlfriend? Oh that’s right she dumped your ass.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You made a valid point, we have been friends for years and I’ve decided I’m tired of running away from my problems.”

“And what,” Carol sneered, “we’re one of your problems now? Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You didn’t use to be this way, you know. You used to be the sweetest girl and I’m trying to figure out if it was Tommy that made you this way or if you turning into a bitch is what made Tommy become such an ass?”

Tommy and Carol’s heads rocked back in unison. Tommy moved to stand up to hit him, but Carol pulled him back down.

“If we bother you so much why don’t you leave and stay gone?” she asked, low and menacingly. “We don’t need you, you need us. We made you king.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “No, you really didn’t. You need someone to keep you from your worst selves. And that’s what I’m going to do. You could be good.” He slid a piece of paper over to Tommy. “This is Miss Chen, the school counselor’s office hours. You will make an appointment with her by the end of the day.”

Tommy threw it on the table. “Fuck off, Harrington. You can’t make me.”

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Actually you’ll find that I can. After all they’re still trying to find the culprit who put the smoke bomb in the garbage in the principal’s office last year.” He slapped the table for emphasis. “It would be a real shame if they learned it was you.”

Tommy blanched and gulped heavily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve confirmed. “I know too much about you to have you go against me.”

Carol folded her arms and huffed. “Like we don’t have information on you, too.”

“Do you though?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and lazily stuff his hands in pockets. “I was never directly involved in any of it. Including the buying of weed for all those parties.”

This time Carol’s color drained. “Shit.”

“So this how it’s going to go,” Steve murmured. “You two have become my pet projects. I’m going to see if you can be reformed. Become better people. And to do that, we’re going to have to be friends again.”

Carol frowned as she twirled her hair around a finger. “Why are you doing this, Steve? I mean really. When you think people aren’t watching you, you get this haunted expression. It’s a little freaky, honestly.”

Steve sighed. “I have learned the hard way that running every time things get tough will only lead to worse consequences and I hate to see you come to harm because you realized the same thing too late.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do care about you guys, of course I do. But this behavior is frightening. What if you hurt someone so bad that they took their life or they died because of your direct actions? Do you really think you could live with yourselves?”

“Tha–that can’t really happen, can it?” Carol asked, holding up her hand to stall Tommy from scoffing.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “That something you really want to test?” He leaned forward again on his elbows. “Having someone’s blood on your hands?”

They were both thinking it but Tommy beat Carol to it. “Is this what this about? Barb Holland? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Steve turned his head away.

Carol slapped her hands on the table on either side of her tray. “If that’s what Miss Priss said, blackmail be damned, Steve, I’m going throw hands, do you understand me?”

Steve’s head snapped her direction. “What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, “what happened to her was a shame, but you did everything you could to make sure she was okay before we went in to dry off.”

“Like, she wasn’t even supposed to be there that night,” Carol said, nodding. “That’s all on Nancy. Don’t carry her shit too, just because you loved her. You tried to include Barb and she was rude.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded, choking down tears. “Thanks, guys.”

“I suppose,” Tommy said with a put on sigh, “we could be nicer. I guess.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed as Carol shook her head. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tommy shook it first and then Carol.

“Friends,” they agreed.

~

Eddie wasn’t able to hear what Steve and Tommy and Carol were talking about, but whatever it was it had ripples that quivered through the halls of the school.

Word had it that Tommy was seeing the school counselor and Carol had stopped making snide comments in passing.

Like, you could tell Carol was fighting back every nasty word that came to her head, as Steve would nudge her side and she would whisper to him what she was thinking instead. You could tell she was still being nasty but at least it wasn’t aimed at the target anymore.

But there were starting to be other changes too.

The basketball team was the worst of the jocks when it came to harassing the masses, but when Steve caught one of the members bullying someone, the next day, the guy was too tired to start shit.

So Eddie decided it was time for a little research and that meant actually going to PE. Fuck, he hated high school.

He dragged his ass to PE and the coach merely raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. He knew why Eddie was there. Same reason as all the other kids that never came started showing up.

Steve Harrington.

The coach blew his whistle to call a foul and the kid who had been fouled immediately got up and in the other guy’s face.

Faster than lightning, Steve was between before the coach could even take a step toward the mounting trouble.

“Come on, Kenny,” Steve was saying soothingly. “It was fair play, you were just in the right place at the wrong time. Walk it off, then take your shot. You’ve got this.”

Kenny glared at the other player, but did as Steve suggested. Steve turned to the other player and patted him on the chest, murmuring something Eddie couldn’t hear, but the other guy just nodded and took his place on the line.

Eddie laughed out loud when Kenny biffed both shots and the other team got the ball. He didn’t know enough about basketball, but he could still appreciate a good strategy when he saw it.

As the game wore on, Eddie was starting to see the pattern emerge. If it was malicious, Steve would be up in the guy’s face telling him to knock it off and to play clean. If it was a good play and the fouled player was pissed, Steve would calm him down and praise the other team.

It was almost freaky how well Steve seemed to know the difference. And Eddie loved freaky.

~

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[unsteddie]

Tommy Hagan came back after Hawkins split open. He left college and came to help people in need. Because under all the posturing he was good, he always had been when he and Steve were kids, he just got a little lost in highschool. Not like Steve could judge.

Just a few hours after running into each other, an awkward hug, and unloading a million supply boxes out of a government truck together, Steve found himself with a lap full of his former best friend.

He knew he fucked up when he kissed down Tommy's neck and heard him mumble something about 'wanted this for so long.' He knew he fucked up because it wasn't Tommy's brown eyes or full lips he was seeing.

As Tommy melted in Steve's hands it was Eddie's fingers that trailed up Steves arm, across his shoulder and into the hair at the base of his neck. It wasn't Tommy's slightly high pitched moans he was hearing, but Eddie's lower timber. And it wasn't Tommy's familiar spicy cologne he was smelling as he unbuttoned his shirt to kiss down his chest, it was the lingering smoke of Eddie's last menthol.

He'd shared it with Steve against the side of the RV before they left for the Creel house. It was then that Steve recognized the way his stomach twisted when Eddie leaned close into his space, familiar and alarming at the same time. He nearly pulled Eddie in then. He wished he had.

Steve had fucked up and he hadn't stopped himself. He'd had plenty of chances, the first break for air when the two old friends took a moment to laugh awkwardly. On the way up to Steves bedroom, giggling and whispering to each other.

He really should have stopped, while he was undressing Tommy the rest of the way, and he had to push away the thought that he couldn't be kissing Eddies neck, sucking a deep purple bruise into it. Because Eddie's neck was a gaping hole rotting somewhere in the upsidedown where Steve had left him.

But in the dark of his bedroom it was so much easier to pretend. It was easy to bury his face back in Tommy's neck and hear eddies voice echoing every little sound and word that Steve was able to tease out of the boy under him. Easy to feel calloused fingers gliding along his back, digging in when Steve did something he liked. Easy to pretend he could taste that last menthol on the tongue in his mouth rather than cheap beer. It was easy and Steve was weak.

He barely kept himself from calling out Eddie's name. He bit into a freckled shoulder instead. Later, with Tommy sleeping soundly on his chest, a content little smile on his face, Steve cried silently. For what he'd done and for what he'd never get the chance to do.

[steviewashere]

I am itching to write a frat boy Steve Harrington fic. Definitely modern day, no upside down, no supernatural elements. But not one where he desperately wants to leave it or he's being shunned by the other guys or where he feels like he doesn't fit in. Just one where he does stupid shit because it's funny to him.

He's got an estranged relationship with Tommy Hagan, another one of the frat boys. But they both ignite at the opportunity to get drunk, challenge each other to stupid bets (with no real reward), and party with people. Tommy's kind of a dick, but mostly a class clown kind of guy—doesn't do a whole lot of bullying, maybe some friendly teasing that sometimes goes a little too far (because he sucks at gauging his limit).

Steve's a reformed bully. He's learning to just sort of go with the flow, which is aided a lot by being loose and free and goofy and out-of-his-mind stupid at frat parties. He wants to meet as many different people as possible, maybe not become friends with all of them, but he wants to at least broaden his horizons.

He's buddies with a sorority girl named Nancy Wheeler (who also happens to be an ex-girlfriend, but that's water under the bridge), but she's not into partying—more into having a group of girls who want to see her succeed as a journalist (her sorority consists of her high school best friend, Barbara Holland, Tommy's girlfriend, Carol Perkins, a giddy cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, and a band geek who wants to be a conductor, Robin Buckley). I think he also becomes friends with Jonathan (although a bit reluctantly) through Nancy, and Argyle through Jonathan.

Steve becomes friends with Robin Buckley. Slowly, but surely. Adores her rambling conversations, which increase when she gets even the slightest bit tipsy with him (she never exceeds a few shots, and when he's with her, he doesn't drink more than that, either). She teases him without hurting his ego, unlike Tommy. He appreciates when she tells him that he's being a meathead, when he's out of his depth, when he's doing something even the slightest bit offensive. With her, he learns about his own sexuality (when she eventually comes out to him during a rather intense frat party—they had too much to drink this time, both loose-lipped and teetering). He learns to appreciate the more nerdy aspects of her, Nancy, and the rest of their sorority. Realizes he's more catty than he thought. Plays soccer with Robin on the weekends, though he sucks in comparison to when they play basketball together.

And through Robin, he meets somebody entirely new to him. Eddie Munson, a metalhead with a raspy voice and a cigarette addiction that Steve can get into, who charms in this weird flirtatious (though unintentional) teasing, who's beyond weird and dramatic, geeky with a touch of defensive. He's got a bite to him that Steve barks right back at, though never meanly. They get along like a house on fire, not a match, a house. Sure, sometimes they drink and party. But Eddie likes quieter things, despite his loud and boisterous personality. They smoke weed and sit on the roof and point out stars, or they talk for hours and hours until they both lose their voice, or they smoke and lay in the grass—absorbing one another's warmth without realizing.

It knocks Steve down, how much he learns to adore somebody like Eddie. Stirring something in him, something he's felt in his drunkest moments with Tommy. But with Eddie, he's completely sober. He's sober with intense emotion and want for a guy he's never expected to orbit around.

And, oddly enough, it's not Robin that tells him to go for it.

It's Tommy. He says something like, "Hey, we may not be best friends anymore, but I know what love looks like, man. And, y'know, considering all your past relationships, maybe it's time that you get something that makes you happy?" His voice is serious, unusually so. And Steve sort of clings to it, like a warm blanket on a camping trip. Tommy then adds something along the lines of, "Be stupid with me, Stevie-boy. Don't be stupid about your feelings. That gets you nowhere. And...I don't know this Eddie guy, not really, but there's something to him. Like a...one of those cloud things that Carol's always talking about—an aura? I could see him drawing you in before you had the chance to get his name."

Steve probably retorts with, "Shut up." And then blushes stupid about it. Because Tommy's never been wrong about these sort of things, no matter how much of an air cadet he can be. And he's also not wrong because when Robin first described to Steve who Eddie was, without giving a name initially, Steve was hooked like one of the fish he catches. (He goes on frat boy fishing trips and has a million photos in his phone of all the trout he's caught. Holds them up to the camera in that Straight Boy Way™️ (trademarked in case you can't see that on your dash), all proud as if the fish is his degree he's going out for.)

Also, I imagine that Steve goes to school to get a bachelor's degree in something like sports science? Or like physical education? Even something like family and human services?

So, line up of fields of study/options because now I want to come back to this:

-Nancy: Journalism -Robin: Music Education or Music Composition -Eddie: English or Music Production or Art -Steve: Sports Science or Physical Education or Family and Human Services -Tommy: Economics -Barb: English or Art History -Carol: Architecture -Chrissy: Special Education and American Sign Language (S.E. is typically a minor, but ASL is almost always a major) -Jonathan: Photography and Composition -Argyle: Neuroscience (I just feel it in my bones that he's like secretly crazy talented in sciences)

I can also think of some of the scenes being texting in group chats. And like with illustrations of Steve holding up his fish? God, my brain is on fire tonight.

[rigginsstreet]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker

the upside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit.

the downside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit. and also kind of a bitch.

it's billy's fault, really. he should've known better when dating a guy nicknamed king.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana, though, is that secrecy is a requirement, which billy doesn't have a problem with. the thought of publicly displaying his affections makes his skin crawl. he's got no problem doing it with the girls he pretends to be interested in because that's all it is - pretend.

but when he really means that shit... it's a harder pill to swallow.

and none of this really bodes well with steve harrington's style of dating. billy knows from his brief overlap of being in town while harrington and wheeler were still a happy item that the guy likes to be clingy, needs constant attention and validation of his affections and he wants to put it all on display for the world to see. and billy can't give that to him.

so he goes looking for it elsewhere.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana is the secrecy, but that rule doesn't extend to billy's sister or his best friend.

heather was never supportive of billy's taste in men. warned him plenty of times that steve was a dick and a leopard doesn't change its spots. but billy had waved of all concerns by saying they weren't even in a serious relationship and that heather didn't know steve like he did. heather and steve hated each other, of course she was gonna see the worst in him.

max was supportive. at first. until dustin started coming around with stories of steve and the new girls he was picking up, gloating about him like he was some golden god of women. and max would come fuming into billy's room asking if he knew about this shit, and billy would sigh and explain to her that it was just steve keeping up appearances to throw the scent off their trail.

"oh, is that why he had his tongue down tina's throat?" max accused.

and billy would have to pretend like he wasn't embarrassed. like he was in on the joke.

the thing with billy is that he doesn't let himself fall often, because when he does it's like a ten ton boulder down the side of a steep cliff. and shame isn't a color he wears well. he's gotten enough of that for a lifetime from neil, and since he's thankfully fucked off now, billy doesn't want to face it ever again.

which is maybe why he snaps at tommy's party.

he came here with steve, but now he's currently watching him dance with some chick with ten pounds of hair and double the makeup. laughing his preppy little ass off as she gyrates her dainty little lady parts all over him.

and yeah, billy can handle a bitchy attitude and some temper tantrums. and he can even wave off vague flirtations that he only hears about secondhand.

but this shit? right in front of his face? that's where he draws a line in the sand.

so he crumples the red plastic cup in his hand, not caring that beer spills out from the top, spotting the hagans' carpet, and throws it full force at the wall beside him, causing those nearby to jump, probably wondering what the hell set him off, if there's gonna be some grand billy hargrove performance.

but no. they'll just have to make due watching his ass walk out the door.

-

billy's sitting on the steps outside his house the next day, smoking a cigarette, when the beemer pulls up.

it's half expected, half not. billy braces himself for a fight anyway.

"you ditched me last night," is what steve says once he's up the sidewalk, a few feet in front of billy. he doesn't sound mad really. maybe a little offended.

billy sucks on his cigarette. blows out the smoke, his eyes never leaving steve. "got hit by a sudden wave of nausea," he says. "didn't wanna ralph in front of the party. didn't think you'd notice."

"why wouldn't i notice? we came together. i was looking all over for you."

billy shrugs, taking another pull of his smoke. "you seemed preoccupied."

it looks like steve's playing a tape in his head of the previous night, trying to pinpoint what exactly the fuck billy's talking about until it must finally click. "man, are you talking about that thing with cindy?" he laughs. like billy's fucking joshing him. "that was nothing!"

billy finishes his smoke, flicking it into the grass before standing up. "yeah, well, it something to me." he turns to walk up the steps, leaving this conversation - and steve - behind, but he's stopped with a hand on his arm.

"aw, billy, c'mon-"

"don't!" billy spins around, hands shoving steve square in the chest. watches his face go from jovial to nervous in two seconds flat.

good. the prick should be fucking nervous.

"you think you can walk around doing whatever the fuck you want like you own this town, but guess what? you don't! and you sure as shit don't own me!"

steve watches him with wide eyes, clearly out of his depth. this isn't the meeting he came here for. billy doesn't really give a shit. "billy, i-"

"i stood up for you, motherfucker," billy seethes, shoving steve again with two pointed fingers. "you know how many times heather's tried getting me to leave your ass alone? how many times max has threatened to castrate you because you can't keep it in your fucking pants?"

"i haven't slept with anyone else!"

"i don't care!" billy bellows. he's making a fucking scene. he hopes the neighbors aren't home. "i'm prime fucking real estate, baby! back in cali i had guys lining up the fucking block to get a piece of this! you think i just give this up to anybody?" steve opens his mouth, but billy cuts him off. "don't answer that! i defended you, asshole. and you make me look like a fucking idiot."

"i didn't think you cared..." steve says after a moment of stunned silence.

and that stuns billy. but he recovers quickly. "of course i fucking care. i wouldn't be doing this-" he gestures between the two of them, "-if i didn't."

"well you don't exactly express feelings very well." it's mostly teasing, billy thinks, but still that undercurrent of signature harrington bitch. "but-" he takes a step closer. "-if you're serious about this, then i am, too." another step.

"i swear to god if i have to sit through an 'i told you so' speech from maxine or heather because of some shit you pull-"

"is this your way of saying you love me?" steve grins, all cocksure and obnoxious, closing the distance until he and billy are standing toe to toe.

"don't press your luck," billy breathes in the space between them. "i'm serious, steve. i don't do thi- this is new for me, alright? and, i don't know if you've noticed, but i don't really handle rejection well."

"yeah, no shit," steve chuckles. "i'll be on my best behavior from now on. scout's honor." he holds up the three finger scout salute in mockery, but billy thinks, hopes, there's a sincerity in his eyes that he can hold him to.

billy rolls his eyes, mainly at himself for wanting to kiss the idiot right now. he almost does, too, until he remembers where they are and prying eyes could be watching.

he settles for another shove, this time to steve's shoulder, before turning back towards the house. "c'mon," he says, nodding his head towards the door. "nobody's home. you can give me a proper apology."

billy hears footsteps behind him before he even gets his whole sentence out.

[abyssal808]

S1 Soulmate Au prompt inspired by @subbaculture 's prompt wherein "Eddie learns Tengwar just to be special and so Steve's been kicking around with "What's Kickin', Sexy?" on his body

What Tommy Hagan hadn’t been blessed with in terms of intelligence. God - in his allegedly infinite wisdom - had seen fit to redistribute into shoulder width.

Tommy, in turn, swanned around Hawkin’s High shoulder-checking every freak, geek and nerd into nearby lockers; with the kind of wingspan better suited to weirdly proportioned monkeys.

Hellfire members were no stranger to it. Two weeks ago Hagan had run into Gareth hard enough to leave a bruise. A “bump” with enough force behind it that he’d bounced off the lockers and landed on the floor.

Which, fine, two could play at that game. Even if Hagan could barely get his hand off Carol’s tits to realize there were counter-moves to be made at all.

A grade A dick move, even if it was also incredibly boring and pedestrian. The kind of thing jocks who barely had two braincells to rub together saw as peak comedy. Giggling like a cross between a group of cavemen and a flock of pre-school girls whenever their ring-leader du jour started herding freaks like a neurotic border collie.

“Watch it, freak.” Hagan hissed, skirting around Eddie without bothering to shove him at all. Giving a wide berth to whatever zone of contagious freak cooties being Eddie Munson brought to the table.

Behind him, Gareth - blocked from the rest of the hall by Eddie’s leather jacket, in a way only freshies were short enough to pull off - buried a laugh in a cough, muffled into the heel of his hand. Not missing the way that even Hagan - the most infamous asshole of them all - looked ready to bolt as soon as Eddie waved him off in a jaunty salute.

Victory tasted sweet and electric. Fizzing under his skin the way Wayne’s Miller Lites would bubble in the back of his throat, whenever Eddie stole a sip from the half open cans in the back of their fridge. It made him stupid in a way those brief tastes of beer hadn’t managed to yet.

Being The Freak came with perks. An untouchable radius that left Eddie drunk with power. Riding the high of knowing that maybe Highschool didn’t have to suck all the time. That he could play at being a rabid guard dog for the lost little sheep of the world, rail against dickheads like Hagan and win.

Maybe he could use it to plead temporary insanity for what he did next. Riding the high into a really, spectacularly stupid idea.

Everyone had their words.

Eddie’s were tucked away, hidden along the curve of his rib. A curly chicken scratch that mixed print and cursive into a barely legible mess.

‘Is that like, yiddish?’

A weird-ass question, until Eddie had pulled an all nighter on a now infamous school night, falling in love with Middle earth. Head filled with nothing but the dark halls of Khazad-dûm, the sweeping boughs of Lothlórien.

Speak friend and enter.

Pedo mellon a minno.

He’d traced the words over and over. Thrilled by the lilt, the cadence, the beautiful rise and fall of consonants no one else would understand.

Setting his heart there and then on the dorkiest greeting anyone could have come up with. But hey, it was original, which was half the battle people went through when picking soulmate greetings.

He’d gone through several variations. Always in Sindarin, because why the hell not.

People usually saved them, tucked them far away from casual conversation. Bizarre phrases, always non-sequitour, brought out only for special occasions. That lightning strike of instant attraction. People you could see yourself connecting with. Hoping they would be a part of you as much as you were theirs.

He couldn’t see himself connecting with Tommy Hagan in a million years. Not even if they waited in that hallway until the heat death of the universe.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t terrorize him with the possibility.

“What’s Kickin’ Sexy?”

He yelled after Hagan’s retreating back, with its fuck-off wide shoulders; elvish mangled, but passable. Enjoying the rictus of horror on his face, going from anger to fear and back again.

He shifted on his heel, pushing Gareth further behind him in case things got ugly. Herding him back towards Jeff with little bumps, as both of them tried to muscle down their cackling. Nerdy enough to piece together the gist of what Eddie had been hollering about. Even if Jeff was better at Quenya, because he was a weirdo and a purist about that kind of shit.

All in all, a job well done, assuming Hagan didn’t flip his shit and start throwing punches to assert dominance.

Or at least, it felt like it, until Harrington - trailing behind Hagan - sucked all the air out of the room. Hands on his hips, a furrow on his brow, blurting it out without even thinking about it.

“Is that like, Yiddish?”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Panic clamped around Eddie’s throat like a vice. The same way Gareth’s hand, tiny and tense - he had yet to hit his growth spurt - wrapped around the edge of Eddie’s leather jacket. Pushing past the waistband of his jeans to claw at skin.

The side that mattered, one they both knew had those words that wrapped around Eddie’s chest. Curving towards the sternum.

Whatever face he was making gave it away instantly.

Harrington’s face shuttered and fell. A whole host of micro expressions that passed through in a second before he scrubbed them away. A pair of shaking hands that rubbed at his eyes and dragged down his face. Peeking at Eddie through a gap in his fingers.

“Jesus Christ it’s you; isn’t it?”

Behind Eddie, Gareth tugged him half a step back, nails digging into his hip. Little half-moon crescents he barely felt now, but would find later.

“Steve?” The waver in Hagan’s voice would have been funny if it wasn’t nauseating.

Terrifying, when Steve waved him off and stepped towards Eddie. Jerky and halting, like a puppet with half it’s strings cut.

“I can’t fucking believe this Munson. You gotta tell me if it is.” Steve bit out, with a wobble that sounded too trembling and confused to be anger. Even if it would come later.

It was probably coming later.

Anger always got there in the end, with boys like Harrington. Sharp comebacks and sharper right hook always winning out, spurred on by that bone-deep, animal fear of losing your place in the social food chain.

King Steve didn’t seem worried it yet though. Adding to the bizarre hilarity of the situation as he undid his belt and untucked his shirt to the concerned shouts of everyone left in the hall, witnesses to this trainwreck.

If Eddie hadn’t been convinced he’d died and gone to purgatory a minute earlier. He would have been convinced there and then.

As Steve Harrington turned around, bunched his striped polo up high and his khaki’s down low. Stripping down to show the athletic curve of a hip. The dip of a waist that looked small next to his swimmer’s shoulders - almost wide enough to rival Hagan’s - a scattering of moles that dusted across his lower back, framing his mark.

There, on King Steve’s back, bracketed by dimples, low enough to count as a truly slutty tramp stamp sat Eddie’s words. The swooping curves of Tengwar branded into his skin.

“What’s kickin’, Sexy?”

[feralxsteddie]

Blah blah blah something about Steve and Eddie going out on a date to the movies or smth, they're walking down the street and get stopped by a small group of former jocks Steve used to run with years ago

Something something they jeer and laugh at their fallen King, stooping so low as to associate himself with town trash ect- saying that Tommy knew he was right to dump Steve to the curb, he tried to continue to be his friend but then Steve had to go and turn freak on him and- and-

The mean girl just jumps right out of Steve's skin, he doesn't throw a punch or spit on their shoes . He turns to them, partially shielding Eddie with hands on his hips and signature "devil may fucking care" bored expression on his face.

'Tell Hagan that if he's dying to suck my dick as much as he's always wanted to, then to get in line, that goes for the rest of you too- congrats! We all peaked in highschool so you don't have any new fucking material.'

Then he smiles, does a little wave with a wiggle of his fingers, then continues walking off. Leaving a shocked but also thoroughly impressed Eddie behind to pick up his jaw and follow after him, not before flipping off the group that became frozen by Steve's whole ice queen bit. Because even after everything, Harrington might not be the king anymore, but he's still untouchable to the lesser characters of Hawkins.

[unfinishedslurs]

jock on jock violence (past steve/tommy)

“Just leave people alone, Tommy,” Harrington says lowly. Dangerously. Harrington’s always been dangerous, in the way that straight, entitled jocks have always been dangerous to Eddie, but sometimes Eddie thinks he dropped the crown to pick up a sword. There’s something sharper about him now, something that wasn’t there before Halloween. Different from the fake smiles and shifty eyes after the Byers kid went missing. Not that Eddie’s been looking. 

“Leave them alone?” Hagan demands. “Like how you left me alone?” And wow, is he delusional? Did he just completely forget about his girlfriend, Hargrove, and the entire fucking basketball team?

“Not everything is about you! Seriously, man? You’re just gonna twist what I’m saying like that?” Harrington snaps, and oh, Eddie doesn’t want to be here for this. If the former king and his old lackey duke it out, he does not want to get caught in the crossfire. “Jesus, grow up. Sorry I got sick of being a total dick.”

“Oh, yeah, now you’re just sucking Byers’s—“

“You want to go there? Do you really wanna go there, Tommy?”

Shit, Eddie should not be here for this. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Hagan says, suddenly panicked. 

“I thought you liked my mouth.”

Eddie has to practically stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from sputtering. 

“What the fuck, man,” Hagan hisses. Eddie knows he’s looking around, even though no one’s in the bathroom except them and Eddie. And Eddie’s never going to breathe a fucking word of this to anyone, on account of not wanting his face rearranged ten times over. “What, are you some kind of fag now? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Harrington almost sounds bored when he replies. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“I told you to watch your mouth.”

“You gonna shut me up?”

“What has gotten into you?” Hagan finally asks the million dollar question. Harrington’s acting like he’s got a fucking death wish. “One minute we’re calling out Byers for being a creep, and the next you’re dumping me like it’s nothing. And now you’re suddenly best buds? Even after he stole your girlfriend twice? You know how pathetic that is, right? What, do you share her or something? The slut putting out—“

There’s a rustle of clothes, and then a thud, like something—someone getting slammed into a wall. 

“Don’t talk about Nancy like that,” Harrington growls. “This isn’t about her.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, man, it’s about you being a total asshole, and I’m telling you to leave people the fuck alone.”

“Or what?” Hagan almost sounds amused, over obvious nerves. He’s not even trying to escape the hold he’s in. “I’m stronger than you, and we both know it. You’ve still got a concussion, don’t you? Hargrove told me he beat your face in.”

“Hargrove this, Hargrove that. You sound like you’ve got a crush or something. You suck him like you sucked me?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“You can’t win this fight, Steve.”

“I don’t need to. Mutually assured destruction, asshole. You stop hurting people, and I won’t tell the entire town about us.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Harrington sounds serious. It almost makes him sick to his stomach, even as a hysterical laugh tries to bubble out. Who woulda guessed that the former king of Hawkins High had enough guts to paint himself as a queer to their conservative, stick in the mud town?

That is, if Hagan doesn’t fucking kill him first. 

“You wouldn’t.” Hagan sounds panicked now, and for good fucking reason. He’s been on the “right” end of what happens to their kind of freaks for years. How quickly would the vultures turn on him? They descended on Harrington pretty damn quick. 

“Wanna bet?”

“You do that, you lose everything. Peace, daddy’s money, your precious sports scholarships…”

“I’m not going to college,” Harrington says. “Look in my eyes, Hagan. Do I look like I’m bluffing? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Eddie has to keep in a scoff at that. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that there’s always something to lose with shit like this. Namely your life. 

This is fucked. This is so fucked. Eddie wants out of this stall, Jesus H. Christ. He’d take Mrs. Smith’s class anyday over knowing one wrong move will end with two jocks beating his fucking face in for hearing something he wasn’t supposed to hear. Or potentially having to jump in to try and save Harrington’s stupid fucking mug. 

There’s a long pause that does absolutely nothing for Eddie’s nerves, before Hagan finally spits out, “Fine.”

“What was that?”

“Fine.”

“Good man,” Harrington says, as if they’re discussing some kind of business deal and not outing themselves in front of God and Mrs. Jenkins and everyone. “Now get the fuck outta here, Tommy.”

Rustling, quick footsteps, and then the door opens and shuts without a word. 

Silence.

Eddie sighs in relief. 

“Hello?” Harrington asks, voice on edge. 

Shit. 

His stall door swings open, and there he is, in all his fallen kingly glory. Bruise over one eye, scowl on his face, and dangerous set to his shoulders that Eddie knows all too well. 

“Uhh, hi?” Eddie squeaks. He’s still sitting like fucking Gollum, feet on the toilet, unlit cigarette in hand. He drops it, and neither of them look away from each other as it rolls behind the toilet bowl. 

Excellent first impression, really. 

“What the fuck, man?” Harrington asks. “Were you just listening to that?”

“Look,” Eddie says quickly. “In my defense, I was here first. Also, if he saw me, Hagan was definitely going to beat me up. Except, uh, you’re definitely going to kick my ass anyway for hearing that, so I probably should just cut my losses and accept death at this point.”

Harrington doesn’t seem to know what to say to this, mouth opening and closing slowly. 

“Also, for the record?” Eddie says. “I won’t say anything. I know you have, like, zero reason to trust me, but I’m really good at secrets, dude, like you wouldn’t believe. I haven’t even told Jeff that Gareth—anyways, secrets? What secrets? I didn’t hear anything. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

He gets a scathing look in return. “If you tell anyone—“

“Wait, wait, wait! You said something about mutually assured destruction, right? I get it. I get it, Harrington, fuck, you know I do. Who would believe me if I blabbed, anyway? Who are they gonna believe, the King or the Freak?”

Harrington sighs, but he must see the truth in what Eddie said because he moves away from the stall. Takes a wad of paper towels and starts running them under the sink. 

It emboldens Eddie enough to follow him. “I mean, really, they’d probably just call it wishful thinking or something. Plus, I’m pretty sure most of the school would rather die than talk to me, so, like, you’re safe, man. I’ve already blacked it out in my memory, it’s gone.”

It seems like Harrington has tuned him out, pressing the wet paper towels to his forehead and eye. That’s good, because Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. 

“Also, for the record? That was badass. I don’t think I’d have the guts to do that, even if the entire town kind of knows about me anyway. Which, wow, you were really good at hiding it. Hagan I kind of suspected, given the giant fucking boner he had for you, but you—“

“Do you ever shut up?”

Eddie’s mouth shuts with a click. Harrington sighs again and pinches his nose, looking almost like a mother trying to herd her seven rambunctious children into the minivan. His hands are shaking.  

“You okay, man?” Eddie finally asks quietly. 

Harrington doesn’t say anything, just presses the paper towels over both eyes, like he’s trying to stave something off. Oh, shit, is he…

“Are you…crying?”

“What? No,” Harrington says, obviously lying. “It’s the light, I get headaches. Concussion.”

“Right.”

“Look, can we just forget this ever happened?”

“Already forgotten,” he promises. “But, uh, for the record? That was really brave of you, man.”

“I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

“That actually kind of surprises me, because I could not tell from your voice. You sounded like you were ready to march up to The Post then and there and spill all Hagan’s dirty little secrets. All ‘I’ve got nothing to lose,’ and shit.” He pitches his voice lower, in a mimic of some action movie hero or something. 

Harrington finally laughs, and something in Eddie thrills at it. “I pulled that outta my ass,” he admits. “I knew he would believe it, ‘cause to him I already did lose everything. My friends, my girlfriend, my…”  he waves his hand around, “my status, or whatever. And a few screws, probably.”

“Well I can attest to the screws, because I think you might be actually insane. You cornered him in an empty bathroom without checking to see if it was actually empty and threatened to out him to the entire town? I thought I was going to have to save your life, Jesus shit. Don’t fucking do that, do you have a death wish or something?”

“I did check,” Harrington snaps. “I looked under the stalls, and none of the doors were locked. Who the hell sits on a toilet like that anyway? You looked like one of those ugly stone fuckers, the ones they put on buildings and shit.”

Eddie bursts out laughing, too incredulous to be offended. “You mean gargoyles?”

“Whatever. Besides, Hagan won’t kill me. He’s too much of a coward.”

“I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but cowards are dangerous too.”

“Not Tommy’s kind of coward” Harrington says. “Not to me.” He wonders about the surety in his voice. Does he think Hagan still has feelings for him? Ex-boyfriends can be the worst kind of assholes. Hell hath no fury like a man scorned. Harrington gives him a look, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. “He’s a bully and an asshole, but he doesn’t have the guts,” he insists. “He’s no Hargrove.”

Eddie sneers. “Hargrove. The guy’s a fucking psycho.”

“Tell me about it,” Harrington says dryly. He finally looks at Eddie, eyes him up and down. Eddie could take him, honestly, he’s scrappy and Hagan wasn’t lying when he said everyone knows Harrington can’t win a fight. Pair that with the concussion he’s sporting, and it’d probably take a love tap to take him down. But he doesn’t want to. 

“You’re probably better off without Hagan anyway,” he offers helpfully. It doesn’t work, just makes Harrington look like a kicked puppy, damaged and sad and cold. It makes Eddie want to take him in as one of his little lost sheep, honestly, which is an impulse he pushes far, far down. Abdicated or not, a king is no fit for a freak’s friend. Even if he and Byers have been pretty friendly. 

“I know,” he says. “But he was still my friend, you know? Like, the first one I ever had. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to realize.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s an awkward silence, where Harrington turns his focus back to the mirror. Eddie clears his throat and tries to lighten the mood. “So, you and Byers…”

The look he receives could make the Demogorgon shake in his boots. “Don’t you have a class to fail or something? You should probably go to that before—”

The bell interrupts Harrington perfectly, and he snaps his mouth shut. Eddie snorts. 

“Think it’s a little late for that, but I know a dismissal when I see one. See you around, Harrington.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, remember—“

“I know,” he calls behind him, striding for the door. “Mutually assured destruction!”

Leaving the bathroom feels like being reborn a whole new man. He swears the air is cleaner than it ever was before he went in. His last glance behind himself shows Harrington looking in the mirror, no sign of moving as the door shuts. 

As he’s walking to his next class, he spies Wheeler and Byers huddled together, whispering. They look worried. 

They both startle when he speaks. “If you’re looking for Harrington,” he says quietly, stopping next to them, “check the smoke bathroom, by the band hall. I think he’s still in there.”

Wheeler’s brows furrow, but Byers gives him a nod, already moving. Eddie moves along as Wheeler shoots him a quick look of gratitude before following, books hugged to her chest. 

Eddie doesn’t know what’s going on between the three of them, but he kind of wants to now, especially considering Harrington’s non-answer when he asked. He doubts Wheeler is a cover-up, not after her and Harrington’s breakup and the quiet, lovey-dovey honeymoon phase she and Byers seem to be having. The one that kind of seems to tear Harrington to pieces sometimes, even as he sits with them and walks to class with them and even hangs out with them outside of school, if Jeff really saw the three of them at the diner together last week. Maybe Steve Harrington’s a secret masochist.

Then he remembers the bruise yellowing around his eye, the weird tension he has with the guy who beat him up last year. The way he damn near begged Hagan to beat his ass in the bathroom. Not so secret, then. 

Whatever. It’s none of Eddie’s business. He’s gonna soil his reputation if he keeps focusing on Hawkins royalty like this. Never mind the way Harrington’s soiled his own reputation enough. So what if King Steve isn’t king anymore? He’s still just another pretty face. 

A pretty face, with nice arms and big eyes and thighs. And he’s queer, and doesn’t seem like the kind of closeted that would have the usual jock shove him away after getting a blowie. Shit.

His lungs itch for the cigarette he never got to smoke. Too bad the bathroom is occupied.

[steddieunderdogfics]

lover, you can’t be wrong by gayjinkies

@gayjinkies

Rating: Explicit

28,108 words, 5/6 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Doing it for the dare, but it’s a vote, First Time Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Blow Jobs, Masturbation, Finger Sucking, Dirty Talk, Dacryphilia, Steve Harrington is a himbo, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Crack, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Eddie Munson has a dick piercing, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve HarringtonSub Steve Harrington, POV Steve Harrington, I must reiterate: this is Dumb As Hell, Companion Piece, One-Sided Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan just can’t catch a break, Subspace, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, but also a little bitch when the situation calls for it, Praise Kink, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, Steve Harrington Has an Oral Fixation, Subdrop, Anal Fingering, Fantasy Sex

Summary:

Ever since Tommy told Steve about the stupid fucking vote, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Steve decides he’ll test it out. Has to, really, for his own peace of mind. Otherwise he’s pretty sure he’ll make it to his eighties, trying to proposition male nurses from his deathbed. He’s not sure when, or with who, or any of the logistics, really, but he’s sure of one thing. He’s gonna blow a guy and he’s gonna be good at it. That’s a Steve Harrington Guarantee. — Or; the basketball team unanimously votes that Steve would be the worst at giving a blowjob. Steve wants to test the truth of that with the only guy he knows might be down to help - Eddie Munson. This is the Steve POV companion piece to I’m a lover, boy.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @gayjinkies. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Back for More

Written for @steddieangstyaugust - days 9 (Upside Down) and 11 (Temporary Character Death). They just happened to merge and I didn't stop them.

It was eerily quiet in the Upside Down. The rustling of demobat wings had died down, black tendrils lied still as their master fled to God knows where to lick his wounds. Only the constant storm that would never bring rain loomed over them.

Steve's vision was still blurry after the near strangulation at the Creel house, and Eddie? Well. Eddie was dying.

"Wait here until we can find help," they'd said. "Keep him safe. Keep him alive and talking." Robin and Nancy dragged Dustin away, screaming, crying, and Steve made a reckless promise to make sure that his favorite twerp of the twerp troupe (also known as the Party, the most annoying kids known to mankind) was out of danger. Or at least as much as one could be when the world was ending.

So, the promise? Keep Eddie from dying.

That was easier said than done. Demobats made Eddie their free buffet - Steve hated himself for thinking that, but maybe he could blame it on the dizziness - and now Eddie was even more full of holes than a golf course. Minus the flags.

Yeah, maybe Steve was panicking a little. But hey, who wasn't?

"Come on, man," he muttered as Eddie's hand dropped, letting go of the blood soaked cloth. "Keep it on the wound. I'm not an octopus, I can't plug in all of these, uh…"

Eddie laughed, but it made such a horrendous gurgling sound that Steve hoped he hadn't done that. "New entrances to the temple that is my body, Harrington?"

Steve's brow furrowed in disgust. Which was funny because, you know, they were covered in blood and grime, so this shouldn't have even fazed him. It still did. "Ew. Don't…just don't."

He still reached out and repositioned Eddie's hand to cover the less severe wounds. Which really weren't less severe, all were gnarly and jagged, but at least Eddie could reach them. Steve's hand didn't leave the most dangerous looking one on his neck, pressing down and slowing down the bleeding.

"Aww. Harrington is shy," whispered Eddie, but obediently used the last of his strength to cover the wound on his side.

"Am not. Your innuendos just suck. Where did you get those, in a history class?"

Eddie's mouth twitched into another smile. "Nah. In front of the mirror, like all proper men. Which might be…why they don't work. On other men."

Other men. Huh. Steve had never suspected anything.

His eyes were starting to close, his breathing more shallow, and yep, this was the moment that Steve would normally get up, get punched, get in the harm's way so the others could escape. But this time it wouldn't work. It was just him and Eddie and so much blood that just wouldn't stay on the inside where it belonged.

Keep him talking. That's what he promised to do.

He nudged Eddie with his knee. "Hey. Hey, Munson! Now I'm curious. How do you know they don't work? Have you tested them?"

Eddie groaned, but one of his eyes opened again. "Jesus H Christ, Harrington. Can I just die from blood loss and not embarrassment?"

"Nope. No dying either way. Tell me."

Another groan, another gurgle. "Didn't test anything, man. This is Hawkins. I never even told anyone. Shit, I didn't even want to tell you, but I'm feeling kinda lightheaded…"

Not good. Not fucking good at all. "It's fine, we're bonding, right?" But Eddie didn't respond, and Steve didn't have a third hand to slap him awake, so he just went for the conversational jugular. "I mean. I kinda get it. I saw a lot of stuff in the locker rooms and I've always thought Tommy has some nice shoulders and back. And…below."

That got Eddie's attention. His eyes opened again, and the bloodied grin he showed Steve was worth the mortifying admission. "Well well well. Who would have thought we have the same taste in men, King Steve? Type, I mean. Hagan's an asshole. But jocks…hmmm. Good for you to…have such a nice view."

Now he was talking too much, and his breath was getting even more shallow. Shit. "You'll get it too, man. Not all places are Hawkins. So stay awake, keep pressure on your…ugh, fine…new entrances to the temple of Munson, and I swear that when you're all healed up, I'll drive you to wherever you feel more comfortable, and we'll get you a jock to smooch or admire. Or both."

"Sounds nice," whispered Eddie. Then, after a pause: "being smooched, I mean. It's so lame, dying without being kissed. Ever."

Look, Steve was running out of options. There was no sound, no indication of help coming, and he had to keep his promise. The world was ending anyway. "Would you like not to?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"I mean," said Steve and even attempted his signature hair flip, which earned him a weak chuckle from Eddie. "I know I look like shit now, but I was a jock. And I'm pretty sure I'm a better kisser than Tommy."

"…have better ass too…"

Steve burst out laughing, and perhaps he managed to hide the slowly rising wave of hysteria. "Yes, thank you! I knew someone would eventually have good taste and say it out loud. But seriously, uh…I'm offering. I mean, as far as first kisses go, this whole scenario will be pretty memorable."

Eddie smiled at him from the ground, and it was so sad that Steve wanted to punch Hawkins, his younger self and everyone who made Munson look this self-deprecating. "You don't have to, Steve. Pity isn't a good look on you."

"It's not," he said quickly, with more force than he'd intended. "Seriously, Eddie. It's not. It's…curiosity for me too. And maybe I also need to take my mind off things, because this whole week has been so incredibly shitty, more for you than me, but still, and it's not like we have anything better to do anyways. So I'm asking again, a bit more tactfully this time - may I kiss you before you change your mind and stop liking jocks?"

"Not gonna happen," whispered Eddie, but his smile was wider now. There was a strange sheen to his eyes, but Steve was only focused on buying just a bit more time, a few more minutes, even seconds. "Come on, big boy. Deflower my lips. Or something."

"You just had to make it weird."

Steve leaned down and inspected Eddie's face. It was covered in drying blood, so were his lips, but it didn't matter. He moved even further, still maintaining the pressure on Eddie's neck wound, and pressed their lips together.

It wasn't much, he was careful not to obstruct Eddie's breathing, but it felt nice. He imagined what it might have been like under different circumstances - Eddie's stubble against his chin, maybe taste of his cigarettes instead of blood, hand in his wild hair and around his slender waist. He winced as Eddie's tongue darted out and licked the cut in Steve's lip, but he met him halfway without hesitation.

As he started pulling away to give Eddie more space to breathe, Steve had a sudden realization. Despite his loudness and abrasive behavior, Eddie deserved the gentleness, the caution. Steve wondered if he could have given it to him in another time, another life.

"So," he asked, still hovering over Eddie, "was that everything you dreamed of?"

Eddie's voice was barely more than a sigh now. "Bit…less blood in my dreams. But…yeah. I really wish…"

The hand on his wound was slipping again. Steve moved it back. "Yeah?"

"I really wish I could have come back for more."

His hand dropped again, and this time, no matter how much Steve threatened, argued or pleaded, it wouldn't rise again.

"Eddie." Steve nudged him again, but his body was still. "Hey, Eddie. Wake up. You can come back for more anytime you want. Just…just hold on, get better and then you can have as many kisses as you want. Come on. Don't…"

When Nancy and Robin finally made it back with supplies, they found Steve still covering Eddie's wounds, not leaving his side. When they tried to move him, to make him let go of Eddie's body, Steve could only say one thing - "I made a promise."

..

Two weeks passed. The world was still ending, Max was in a coma, and Eddie was gone. It felt wrong, being able to summarize so much pain in such few words. Steve couldn't look Dustin in the eye, grateful for the return of the California crew so that Dustin had someone to support him apart from Lucas. He broke two promises in the same day, probably the most important ones he'd ever made.

His body functioned on autopilot. Donations, disaster relief, he did it all to keep busy. He slept very little, but when he did, he no longer had the intense, terrifying nightmares. Instead, he dreamt of Eddie, alive and well, meeting him in a bar, at Skull Rock, kissing him again and again.

Every day he woke up, had a blissful moment when reality was hazy, and then it hit. Eddie would never kiss him again.

It was yet another night full of tossing and turning in his bed. When Steve finally fell asleep, he was in a familiar dream. Sweet and soft kisses, Eddie's hair tickling his face. But this time, his lips felt more rough, and there was sharp pressure on his lower lip.

When he woke up, he thought he was still dreaming. His head was gently cradled by slender hands, long hair was tickling his face…and Eddie was in his bed.

He was dirty, covered in crusts of dried blood. His clothes were torn and the unnatural sheen in his eyes that Steve had noticed back in the Upside Down made it seem like the whites of his eyes were glowing. His nails were sharp, his canines were peeking out from under his upper lip, but it was him, in flesh. In scarred but miraculously healed flesh. 

"Eddie?"

"You said," he whispered, and it sounded raspy, rough. "You said I could come back for more."

It might have been a dream - or maybe not, Steve would find traces of mud and a familiar looking bandana in his bed the next day. But Steve didn't know that yet. What he knew was this - even if it was a dream, even if he was about to have yet another painful realization the next day, he'd take it. Because Eddie was worth every single second of that pain.

He wrapped his arms around the dream visitor's neck and pulled him back into his bed. "I did say that. And I'm a man of my word."