#and sometimes! he’s there before eddie himself!

[eddiegettingshot]

your prompt for today: pink🩷

When their night out winds down, and they land on Eddie’s doorstep, Buck’s gut begins to prickle with sudden nerves, or maybe anticipation. He really can’t tell the difference. Strange, because he thought he’d been handling being on a first date with his best friend pretty well. After all, it’s a song and dance that’s usually about making a good first impression, and not only did that ship sail years ago, but Buck didn’t even get it right. So dinner just felt like dinner, except for the fact that Eddie kept their feet tucked together beneath the table the whole time.

Granted, there were a few days where Buck kept forgetting anything had changed between them if they weren’t physically together, if Eddie didn’t have a hand on him, like he’d lost all sense of object permanence where Eddie was concerned. What’s startling is that in most ways, nothing has. 

Like this: Eddie turns to him now as he unlocks his front door, brow arched. 

“What, you got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Buck doesn’t bother asking what Eddie had seen in him, that he’d decided he needed to stake an explicit claim on the rest of Buck’s night (and, with luck, the morning?). It’s not like he’s in the habit of playing things close to the vest, but half the time he doesn’t even need to say a word—not to Eddie. He’d been peeled open long before he knew he had anything to confess.

Easy to imagine: himself, held in the tender cradle of Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s thumbs feeling down his center to find the tenderest spot, pushing deep all at once, prying him apart—through the rind of him, his ribcage, so all his insides, overripe with adoration, come spilling out into Eddie’s palms. That’s how it feels. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

“No,” he says, shuffling closer. He’d been hanging back, playing with his car keys in his pocket.  “No, I—I’m coming in.”

“Good.” 

Eddie sounds so openly pleased. Warmth spills through Buck’s spine. He hadn’t considered that he wasn’t alone in this—bracing against some new humming energy, staring too closely at the back of Eddie’s neck—but he watches Eddie’s shoulders soften, right before he lets Buck inside.

Then, once Buck’s on the couch, thinking really intently about how they’re going to occupy it together (it’s been a busy week; they haven’t even seen enough of each other for Buck to have adapted to their new rules of engagement. Can he crawl into Eddie’s lap?), Eddie pauses, says, “Uh, hold on,” and bustles off to the kitchen. 

He returns with a lighter for the candle sitting on the coffee table, which is—new. Buck hadn’t noticed until now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie light a candle in all the years he’s spent in this house, and now his lip is trapped between his teeth as he does it, avoiding Buck’s eyes all the while.

It hits Buck hard and fast: Eddie is really, really nervous. And trying to be romantic, for Buck. And if he crawled into Eddie’s lap, probably Eddie would laugh, and let him; he’s allowed. And maybe nothing feels different but it’s all changed. That’s what Buck wants, for once. That’s what Eddie wants, judging by his wide dark eyes, flushed cheeks, the flickering candlelight. Sometimes Buck’s slow on the uptake. This time, he might have just been scared. 

“You look nice,” Buck says. 

Kind of bad timing—Eddie’s just in his socks; he’d shed his jacket and the fancy watch Buck’s only seen him break out a couple times; he’d undone the first couple of buttons on his shirt; he must have run his hands through his hair when he was out of sight, since it’s falling halfway down his forehead. Buck should have said something when he picked Eddie up—he’d thought it, then, but he had been so comfortable with Eddie in his passenger seat, he didn’t want to risk making things weird.

Eddie’s laugh is just a soft puff of air. He relaxes. “Thanks,” he says, coming around to sink down beside Buck, turning a knee out so they’re touching, as if by reflex. 

“I like that color on you,” Buck continues. “Always have.”

“Hm,” Eddie says, smiling. He’s in rose pink. He’s also leaning closer, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips down Buck’s brow, his cheek. His eyes flicker, and suddenly they’re trained on Buck’s mouth. Buck’s stomach swoops boyishly. “It’s a good color.”

Holy shit, Buck thinks, head full of jasmine and honey and smoke and the cologne Eddie’s wearing, something unfamiliar with an exotic spiced note. They kissed before—they’ve been kissing all week—except this time Buck starts whimpering before their lips meet, and Eddie swallows whatever strangled noise he makes with a grin. Buck lurches in, fisting urgent hands into the front of Eddie’s shirt. 

“Eddie,” he pants after a while. It’s hard-won, because Eddie is demanding, and he bites. “Eddie, are you sure?” 

Now that they’ve done it, like, really crossed the line, gotten a taste—he’s gotta know if this is what Eddie was looking for, when he told Buck he loved him. Not just the sex, which they’re definitely about to have—all of it. Buck shoves his knuckles against Eddie’s chest to feel his heart gallop, hard but steady like it grew Thoroughbred legs. 

Eddie’s cupping his face in both hands while they kiss. He pulls away, not far, and surveys Buck the way he would a patient: like he’s trying to puzzle out what’s going on beneath Buck’s skin, in all the places he can’t quite reach.

“Buck,” he says, gently. “Of course.” 

He pushes his thumb between Buck’s teeth. Satisfied, Buck drags him back in.

[loveinhawkins]

on the edge of the woods

ao3 Written for @steddiemicrofic February 2025 prompt, “rose,” 367 words. Rated G, post season 2, pre season 3.

When Eddie thinks of Steve Harrington, he thinks of the sun. It’s not a metaphor (Jesus, he won’t allow himself to stoop so low), it’s very literal. Steve’s just that kind of person, he reasons, someone who comes alive when the sun’s out; someone who’s perfectly content to spend phys ed outside, just running.

An outdoorsy boy, old folks would call it. Eddie supposes that he’s one, too—remembers the refuge of the woods behind his dad’s place, before he moved to live with Wayne. Long, lonely summer nights spent wandering through the trees, the sky rose pink. Thinking One day I’ll get away from all this.

But Steve’s in a category of his own. When he moves, so at home in his body, it’s like the earth moves for him; Eddie watches him now, with an edge of emotion he swears is nothing more than envy.

Watches as Steve drifts away from the gym class on the track, makes his own path running through the grass: alone, free.

Sometimes Eddie gets the impression that something unknown has clipped Steve Harrington’s wings. He never knows what to do with that suspicion—it’s somehow harder to face than his own denial, pretending his heart doesn’t race when…

Steve slows his pace. Looks up at the sky for a second, taking long, easy breaths. His hair looks a little lighter in the sun; he’d been teased for it once, Eddie can’t recall by who, but all it had got them was an eye roll.

Eddie keeps walking along the edge of the woods, stepping in and out of the school’s boundary. Five minutes, just five minutes more to breathe out here, and then he can slip back at the next bell, no-one the wiser.

Movement makes his head turn again: Steve, shielding his eyes against the sun. And Eddie had been sure that he was invisible out here, hidden by the shadow of the trees, but Steve lifts a hand away from his forehead, raises it in a half-wave.

A pause. Eddie waves back.

And then it’s over, and Steve’s running back to his class. Still, Eddie allows himself one moment of honesty—lets himself feel everything.

God, look at you go.

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about Eddie being so eager to kiss you all the time and he just gets a little too excited sometimes a little too rough and you bump into something and he cradles you while you giggle cause he can't stop smiling into his kisses

And sure maybe it's a little awkward and teeth knock against each other and he catches your lip in his teeth a little too hard but it's okay cause you're deliriously happy

And it's not about getting to the sex (not all the time anyways) but he's just so happy to have found a safe place to land and he's enthusiastic that he found someone who wants to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you

And this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big and he doesn't need to tone it down cause you're his person and he's yours

Okay bye ily

mouse. mouse get the fuck back here. MOUSE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

he's just so happy to have a safe place to land and this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big were daggers straight to my heart you come back here right now before i actually bleed out from needing this man so badly.

no but thats exactly it. eddie has spent so long jumping and toeing that line of either trying to cram himself into this bite-sized shape for the ones around him, and just exploding and pretending he doesn't give a fuck that he will never fit into anyone's cup of tea so he'll just make himself even larger, that when you enter his life he just doesnt know what to do about it.

because he starts with his regular tricks of being so over the top, so unbearable, and all you're doing is laughing and entertaining his antics. even playing along at times. and so he retracts a little, turning back into a quiet boy who will shrivel up until he's invisible or easy to love (whichever comes first). but then that doesn't work - and to be truthful, he doesn't even know what his mind's end goal is here because why is he trying to push you away so desperately? - and he's just at a loss. you want him on the thundering days, where he makes his grey clouds everyone's problem and all his lightning is blinding and sporadic. you want him on the quiet days, where the downpour is no longer a roar but a soft drizzle, a bit more silent and a bit more bearable but still there. and he can't tell if it's a joke - he can't decipher if your kisses amidst his rambles are sincere, if you're actually smiling at his jokes because you like him or you're too polite to break his heart. he can't see through those gentle hands you use to caress back his wild hair to be sure that the softest of touches are really just you, or some strange gloves of care that you're only simply wearing for now.

and then one morning, he wakes up, and you're still there, awake before he is and just watching him with so much love. feather-light fingers taking their time tracing over his tattoo on his chest and arms, not noticing he's awake yet as you smile so serenely at him. you're looking at him in a way that he's never really gotten to experience so vulnerably before - like he isn't a nuisance, isn't a mistake. like the universe has so intentionally dropped him into your palms, and you're so aware of how delicate he can be below the surface. and he just breaks.

"i love you"

he'd blurt it out, the first time he's ever said those words to you. it almost feels like the first time he's said those words, period.

he's said them to wayne, in their own way, both a bit stiff in expressing affection and skirting around those words whenever they can for a simply ruffle of hair or unexpected side hugs. he'd said them to his mom, a young boy with shining eyes despite it all, looking at her like she was the world because she was his world.

and... well. that's it. he can count the number of times he's said those words on one hand, and now he's said them to you, and all he can hope is you handle them with as much care as you've handled him.

he hopes you can feel the weight of his heart pressing down on them.

and he thinks you do, when you startle a little, looking up to his lips where those rough words had just fallen from in a cracking tone, and you take your time in awarding him with a smile that could save lives. cure cancer, cure sadness, cure the end of the world even. every cliche possible.

"yeah?" you'd whisper back, and his heart skips a beat, terrified that the next words you say won't be what he needs to hear so desperately. but they are. because of course they are. you wouldn't have been watching him sleep in that way if they hadn't been on the tip of your tongue, "i love you."

not a crash landing, but a soft-padded decent. a slow fall with a cushion to prevent broken bones and more invisible scars.

he kisses you then the way he was going to kiss you every day going forward: pushing forward recklessly, teeth and noses bumping a little, smiles making it nearly impossible. he kisses you like he's coming home after a long day, because he is.

he's home. no boxes in sight to fit into, no cups that'll overflow from all the fizzling feelings pouring out of his chest. you've got him, and he's got you.

[hitlikehammers]

Rockstar!Eddie Leaves What He Had With Steve Behind in Hawkins 💔 to Chase His Dreams 🎸

(so why is it that he’s back in Steve’s bed Hawkins every couple months for ‘very pressing reasons’ that are straining Steve’s heart honestly anything but? 🫤❤️‍🩹🥺)

NOTE: this was originally a fill from @eddiemunsonbingo AGES ago, and I’m only bringing it over here NOW because something for the @steddielovemonth is going to be posted soon that is a standalone in its universe, but also very much a sequel to it ♥���

Steve really does try not to think about it in terms of…time.

Maybe that’s foolish. It’s mostly denial. Lots of it isn’t reliable anyway: the score his body keeps isn’t accurate, war-time left over from too many near-misses with a fucking alternate dimension but the popping in his joints and the ringing in his ears and the white hair he pulled out of his scalp and stared blankly at in the sink for a good twenty minutes: those are real things, but they don’t chart the passage of days, of hours, months and fucking years with any real meaning.

It’s been four years. Roughly. Depending on what the start point is. Whether it’s that Spring Break. Whether it’s the first winter. Or the spring after, when Robin begged him to go with her—there’s still time. She still begs, because they still talk given the thread inside them stays tied unbreakable to one another, oblivious to miles between. Maybe it’s measuring from the graduations, the kids—only Erica’s left at Hawkins High, now, though Steve gets calls from the whole bunch of them, Eleven the most, which was maybe surprising, then it’s a good split between Dustin and Will, another surprise. Max calls enough but her calls are calls, with a weight most of the others lack. Lucas’s calls aren’t super frequent but always long, mostly because he talks around the point forever, whatever the point happens to be. Even Mike usually ends up on the other end of the line once a month. It’s…that could be where the time starts from.

Or it could be the summer, that first summer. The one that taught Steve what it was to have a heart just to fucking break it.

Could be that. Impossible to say.

(It’s been 3 years, 7 months, and 14 days. Steve had only counted in retrospect, in the wreckage left behind, because while he’d known there was a deadline in it, to it all, he’d thought he could be enough. That he could change a mind. He’d thought…

Foolish things. Bullshit. Didn’t matter. Could be any fucking date.)

But since the point's come up, and it’s front of Steve’s mind, his least favorite (most favorite) place to find it: he hadn’t expected it. Robin liked to say she saw the signs but. Steve hadn’t watched it happen in slow motion because there wasn’t a single goddamn slow thing about it. Which was…for whatever it was worth, Steve knew falling fast and hard and with everything he was had maybe failed him every time, thus far, but at least he knows that for him?

That means it’s real. He’s all in. He might not be met equal on the other side of the equation—hadn’t been yet, maybe wouldn’t be ever, but he wasn’t having any luck trying to fucking change that fact so, learning to work with what he had was the best he could do. And he had love. He’d never been able to name it to himself so far: not before, and certainly never since. But.

Figuring out the sexuality thing had been a not-bathroom-but-definitely-floor talk on the shitty Family Video carpet sometime around November of ‘85. Slow days, idle comments, and Robin’s suspiciously-but-reliably-gentle-when-the-need-was-dire hand to his shoulder to say no, no: actually wanting to kiss people of any gender wasn’t really…the default Steve had always expected it had to be. How could anyone look at, say, Harrison Ford and not think, oh yeah, I would at least suck his face?

Turned out probably at least half the people on the planet. As in the straight guys and the lesbians. Steve had spent the majority of three days on that disgusting fucking carpet, open to close, popping up to ask Robin if she was sure because what about—

She was sure. And eventually, through a couple of needs for deep breathing and a handful of assurances that it was okay to cry—he appreciated that, but he kept the crying to his room after these long-ass shifts and if Robin stayed for some of those times, that was because she was half his head, half his heart, and she knew what he was going to do sometimes before he did.

They did end up on the floor of his bathroom, a clean one for once, at one point. Maybe because they both held to tradition. Maybe because Steve had largely come to terms with the mindfuck of yet another piece of his world, his self unravelling and rewriting itself, and thought the vodka in his dad’s liquor cabinet was a good way to celebrate. The label was entirely in Russian and Robin had been practicing on hers, said she was pretty sure it was the good shit.

Sometimes you can drink enough of the best shit on an empty stomach, though, and still spew the whole of it up.

Steve sometimes does think he drinks his dad’s best liquor that way on purpose, though. Delightful going down and yeah, it sucks to chuck it up but. The idea that it’s ultimately wasted feels…right.

Anyway: Steve had settled with it all by New Year's, and while he’d hosted the rugrats who could only blabber about their latest campaign with their epic DM, and he’d kissed Robin when the clock turned, well. It felt like a new start, a fresh page.

Something that had the chance at being a good thing.

And nothing much happened in the two-and-a-half-months that followed save for finally catching a glimpse of the D&D god who ran their little club while he was idling in his car to pick up the shitheads, this legendary DM who did not make Steve jealous one tiny bit and who was cool and was edgy and was so fuckin’ cool, Steve, did we tell you got cool he is?! and Steve had said language as monotone as he could before he squinted as out came all the metal and the ink and he’d said your club president dude is Eddie goddamn Munson and he should have kept his mouth shut because the amount of talking that ensued left him with a headache the size of Montana; but.

That was really all that happened until about…mid-March.

Then Spring Break happened.

It could be argued Eddie and Steve grew close enough to pass the acquaintances benchmark, ended up as at least tentative friends on top of necessary battle mates as early as the Upside Down. Whatever reason Eddie gave, he jumped in after Steve. Whatever speech Steve landed on, he didn’t want Dustin orEddie hurt.

It could be argued Steve wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stop in time and landed in the land of Tentative Friends You Wouldn’t Mind Added Benefits With after the…at least after the way Eddie leaned in close and his lips we so red and he called Steve big boy and…

Yeah.

When Steve carries what may or may not be Eddie’s still fucking corpse out of the Upside Down—he can’t tell, every time he tries to check again his own heart's too loud, his own breaths too shaky—but by then, they’re family. Bound in blood. Steve would die for him, like the others. He won’t let him die, if he can fucking help it.

Between him and Max, Steve almost crashes, breaks. Steve’s there when Max’s fingers twitch and he laughs with tears in his eyes and hands over hands and tells her he loves her and he’s sorry and he’s there, tries to talk around the letter he opened and resealed without evidence because Steve knows some tricks too, okay, and her words had broken him but now he could live up to what she thought she was leaving behind, could make sure she had every goddamn thing she thought she was giving up in spades, to roll around in in abundance. He was going to take care of her, whatever she needed. Whatever it took.

Her lips had quirked and the doctors called coincidence, don’t get your hopes up but; Steve knew Max. That was all her.

And there were more tears, he let her fucking feel them; he fucking hoped she’d notice, and remember, and give him so much shit.

Eddie takes longer, pulls out of the woods enough to exhale a few days later, and the way Steve slips out to find the hospital chapel, the only goddamn place he won’t be found by anyone he knows, and bawls his goddamn eyes out?

It’s family, and it’s love because it’s family but…it’s been so quick. It’s been intense, and that probably speeds it along but…

Shit. Shit.

That’s when Steve knows he sets a new goddamn record for himself and falls hard and heavy and stupidin, like, a week and change. Jesus Christ.

It’s in the recovery that they build something though. Something that’s not trauma or terror or the threat of imminent death. Steve spends most of his hours between two hospital rooms listening to progress reports and taking notes and the kids gravitate toward Max—Dustin would have been the outlier but Steve knows he’s not ready, and so he gives his own updates just to his brother when he drives him home after visiting hours—but that means Steve’s Eddie’s most common conversation partner. They talk about bullshit. Steve defends a-ha to the last breath he has. Eddie’s rendered speechless for a second and then frantic when challenged to pick his favorite band. Again when it’s his favorite song, from his favorite band. And again when it’s his favorite song of any song, ever at all. Steve's heart swells in the watching. He’s foolish enough to bask in the glittering of Eddie’s eyes when Steve indulges in talking, scene by scene as guided by the master in the bed beside him, about what his opinions on Star Wars really were. And then guided by no one, just invited to share what his opinions are on the last movie he saw and loved: which was Weird Science, the last movie he watched in a theatre because he and Robin had gone to face their fear or some shit after Starcourt and it was easier than he’d expected. Eddie listens, and nods, and asks if they can rent it when he’s out, before making sure to add  but you should really have a new choice like, eight months later, man, you work at a video store.

Steve was mostly just focused on Eddie more than implying, of his own volition, that he wanted to have a movie night.

Eddie’s released before Max, largely for mobility reasons, so they both go to visit her now. Robin’s put on the night shift when they schedule their movie night and Steve immediately moves to reschedule but she says no, she’s seen it, make Eddie suffer this time. So it’s just them.

They sit closer than they have to, on the couch.

And it’s little things that build from there. Max’s physical therapy is a government secret, like some fancy space-age protocol that has real hopes to put her on her feet again so she needs a ride, and while they could take turns, Steve and Eddie just take turns as to which vehicle they hop into to drive her. They stay when she needs them—not when she asks because she’s Max and she never asks—but it ends up three days a week back and forth and during: together.

And a lot of nights, for a movie or a smoke or a nightmare or a pulled stitch before they’re all taken out: together.

And shifts where Steve doesn’t even bother to bring his own lunch because Eddie Munson, unpredictable and wholly forgetful super-super senior—who Nancy and Hopper and most of all Joyce convinced the School would be finishing his final senior year at home save for tests, and only that once he was cleared by his doctors—that Eddie Munson brought Steve something every single time he worked. A burger, a chili dog, chicken fucking nuggets. A PB&J clearly homemade and cut diagonal.

So yeah. It starts out how it does when Steve’s in trouble. But it builds like…Steve’s never known before.

They kiss in May. Maybe so that it’s not their first, and a total cliche, when Steve kisses him for graduation behind the bleachers.

The sleep together after graduation, high on the thrill of it, and that’s maybe a cliche but Steve could not give a shit less.

And then they're EddieandSteve, only to find out they have been for a while; and this is just something a little deeper, a little bit more.

In ways that mean everything.

Looking back, Steve knows Eddie never minced words about his plan to leave Hawkins in the fall. With a mixtape and a prayer if I have to, Stevie-boy, he’d said once even, and Steve had laughed.

He’d fucking laughed.

So he’d known.

But July bleeds into August and Steve…Steve’s in love, okay, for real in a way that he’s never felt before. Right in a way he’s never felt before. He kinda just…overlooks it. Because Eddie seems to be at least on the same wavelength. Touches him first, reaches for him first: wants him. Looks at him with not just desire or attraction but…something no one’s ever looked at Steve with before.

And so he hopes. More than hopes.

But when Eddie starts packing, Steve can’t breathe.

He buys a set of luggage and goes home to start the same, has half of his not-excessive possessions shoved in when he realizes:

He’s not invited. Eddie’s never asked him to come.

Looking back, he’s afraid he wasted too much of those last weeks. Scared of giving too much away, the hurt from so many sides and the heartache that’s already taking root, but also: the way he clings, but tries not to make it obvious.

Fuck; but of course it was gonna be obvious, and how much energy did he waste, how many opportunities slipped by, because Steve was trying not to give away that Eddie leaving—to get away from a town that hated him, to try and make a real go with his music, to be anywhere without Steve so he could live out the dreams that predated Steve, that Steve had no place in—to try not to give away that all of it; it’d fucking destroy him.

Steve doesn’t know, to this day, how he stood and let Eddie kiss him breathless out the driver-side window, how he waved until Eddie was out of sight. He doesn’t know.

Kind of like he doesn’t know how he fucking keeps doing it.

Eddie throws tapes to every radio station with Van Halen or other top-played bands written on the insert in sharpie like that gives nothing away, and sneaks a demo in every underpaid delivery boy’s hands to record executives as he drives to the West Coast, sends Steve postcards what seems like has to be every goddamn day, filled up with his rambling until there’s no space left, has to draw lines around Steve’s address to make it clear where the damn thing’s going lest it get confused. Like they’re SteveandEddie still. Like only…only the things that changed after graduation are gone.

Steve sobs after about a month of it all, grateful and resentful, hateful and still so goddamn full of love it’s sickening. Literally, it makes him feel nauseous. He…

He keeps every postcard.

When one of them comes to say some idiot in San Francisco accidentally played Corroded Coffin on what’s apparently an important station, and Eddie got a letter in response from one of the labels, he says he’s coming back for the boys, they need to be ready. Steve knows he’s not one of the boys, but.

Eddie wouldn’t have told Steve he was coming if it wouldn’t matter to Steve. And maybe Eddie wasn’t in love with him anymore, maybe never was in love with him.

But he’d be lying if he said he thought Eddie didn’t love him. In a different way. A…you-don’t-get-to-come-with-me-but-I’d-still-want-to-see-you-when-I-stop-back kind of way.

And Steve…Steve’s not a fucking monk or anything. But even Robin doesn’t try to push him when he finally just tells her what he feels, lovesick and pathetic as it is:

I gave everything I had to someone else, and it’d be different if I wanted to back, to give again, but…I don’t.

I don’t want it back, not from him. Not if any part of him, wants to keep any part of it.

And because she’s Robin, she knows he means something else when he says ‘it’. And because she’s Robin? She’d push if she thought it was worth it.

She just holds him, and that’s really the best thing he could ask for.

But it becomes a thing. The boys go with Eddie, and they record new shit to impress...whoever. And they do. They come back for Halloween, because Eddie loves it. The label’s dragging its feet, but they’re not deterred, they’re energized. They come back for Thanksgiving because Wayne loves it—except he doesn’t, Steve knows that, Wayne actually hates trying to make a bird and Eddie had lamented more than once that they ended up with lunchmeat cut into cubes one year when Wayne was particularly frustrated with the process. They go out East, and try a few studios in New York. They come back for Christmas.

Eddie spends most of his time with Steve. Steve doesn’t fucking fight that; wants it…like…

There’s nothing to compare how he wants it to. Nothing exists that fits.

Eddie spends most of the time that he spends with Steve, though?

In Steve’s bed.

And here’s the thing: Steve had a decent amount of experience to compare to, but once they’d fallen into a rhythm, got past the awkward bits, the learning curve? Sex with Eddie had been a goddamn revelation. Not just because he was a man—after he’d left, Steve had forced himself to try, and dispelled that possibility quick as hell—and now?

Now, it’s like they never stopped. Every fucking time, it’s like they never stopped.

Steve’s not surprised in the slightest that he remembers every give and tell of Eddie’s body—of course he goddamn does—but that Eddie doesn’t miss a beat in touching, sucking, licking, worshippingSteve’s? That’s insane. That’s…

Unexpected. Every time it’s unexpected and every time Steve’s shown he wasn’t forgotten when he probably should have been. Eddie’s building a life that doesn’t include him.

He’ll only get in the way.

But Steve is selfish and stubborn and maybe it’s often, like almost strangely so, but it’s only a week or two at a go so he tells himself he’s allowed. He tells himself that it felt like making love in the beginning because Steve was in love, and that it still feels exactly the same because Steve…Steve never stopped.

Steve is still just as goddamn in love.

So yeah. Steve sleeps with Eddie and it’s like…it’s like rationed air. He gets a regular taste and he gets to keep breathing.

And it’s okay. Probably more then. Because he gets Eddie—even a little bit. Even just in scraps. When he has Eddie?

He has him, even for moments that were never made to last.

It’s Easter, this time. The band put out their first record in January. It’s doing really well. Eddie’s over the moon. Someone called about a magazine cover for a publication in Cleveland that’s apparently kind of a big deal, Alt..something. Steve will buy every copy in a fucking 100-mile radius. 200 miles. 500—

It’s Easter. Eddie didn’t lament not celebrating it after Spring Break in ‘86 but he’s back every year now. And if it’s just…come to mean something, or maybe did then and circumstances won out against it? Steve will be here. Steve will be comfort and a reprieve or a hot as hell romp with a familiar body, Steve will…

Yeah. Steve will do whatever’s needed. Wanted. Anything.

Pathetic.

But so much better than nothing.

Case in point: they’re both naked, sweat mostly dried, sharing a joint and it’s comfortable. It’s quiet and gentle and put up against sitting alone on a weeknight, not with Eddie?

It’s heaven.

“So when’s the dream happening?”

Steve looks cross-eyed toward his lips; he hasn’t smoked this thing long enough to have heard wrong. He squints up at Eddie, whose chest he’s laid out on, confused. Offers him the smoke but he waves it away.

“The dream?” Steve asks finally, when Eddie doesn’t seem to want to answer on his own.

Eddie looks at him weird. Not weird for its own sake but like: like he’s staring into him, and then like he’s disbelieving, but then also like he’s seeing him for the first time.

That kind of weird.

“Getting the fuck out of here,” Eddie answers like it’s obvious. “White picket fence. Little nuggets.” He spreads his hands as wide as possible without tossing Steve from where he lies. “See the sights.”

And Steve’s response is immediate. Doesn’t even require a thought.

He laughs. Like, ugly-laughs.

“Man,” he shakes his head as he catches his breath, and passes the joint off this time with purpose, not an offer or a choice as he snorts a little; “that’s not the dream.”

When Eddie doesn’t grab the smoke, Steve finally looks up. Eddie…

Eddie looks like what Steve’s always struggled to understand the word ‘poleaxed’ to mean. He thinks it might be this.

He looks…like something stuck him through the gut. Slapped him silly across the face.

“What d’ya mean?” And it’s just three words, one that’s a cheat, and he says it slow enough to take an age.

Steve breathes out, and then, if he’s gonna be honest, and if he has to keep holding the damn thing anyway, decides to take another drag before speaking:

“Figured out what the dream was, inside the dream,” Steve says, wondering if he’ll get away with the vagary; knowing he won’t.

“All we see or seem?” Eddie jokes a little, but it falls flat, his tone eerily kinda…strained but hollow.

“I like poetry.” Steve smiles up at him, soft, and offers the joint again straight to Eddie’s lips. He takes it this time.

“It was about family. It was about stability, not,” Steve shakes his head, stops talking half-assed around the lungful he’s holding, and lets it out slow; “not in a place, fuck, not in a house, but,” a person he doesn’t say, but he hears it in his head; “it was about sharing it.”

And that's it. That’s the simplest, most straightforward truth. Steve doesn’t think there’s anything complicated, or offensive in it. Hard to swallow. Even if he’s come to terms with it. Is mostly at peace with it.

Which is why it’s weird, that Eddie feels suddenly rigid beneath him.

So Steve turns, and braces his hand on Eddie's chest for balance, and frowns when he doesn’t even have to push down to feel the way his heart’s a fucking riot.

“What?” Steve asks, gentle; Eddie’s face is a portrait of conflict, of distress and Steve can’t fucking figure out why, they just came like four times between them and are sharing some very nice Cali weed—they’re nestled close, they’re together, it’s…

Eddie’s quiet, his breath disconcertingly steady for how his pulse pounds, and then he breathes out slow before covering his face:

“I don’t think I can fuck this up any worse than I already have, so,” he mutters, dejected for reasons Steve can’t even guess, then he laughs, humorless, shakes his head:

“Let me try, I guess.”

Steve frowns, uncomprehending, until:

“I’ve been in love with you forever.”

Steve thinks the world stops. His heart does, at least. Suspended. Silent so he doesn’t miss a syllable.

“And I told myself,” Eddie bites at his lip, worries at the bottom swell; “end of that summer, from the very first, I said: don’t ask him to come with you, even if it breaks your heart,” and oh god, oh god after all this time: Steve doesn’t think he’s projecting to hear the genuinely broken heart in those words for just remembering.

“Don’t ask him to settle, you’re not even in the same universe of what he wants,” fuck, what lies Eddie’s saying; did he believe them? Has he always—“what he needs.”

But Eddie is everything he needs, always was, will always be—

“You’ll never have the picket fence. You can’t give him his nuggets. You should never be trusted to park a Winnebago.”

They could have had a shitty studio apartment. They could have had the kids in college. They could have run the BMW until it died, or sold it to put toward a better van for equipment. They could have—

“You’re selfish, Munson, you’re a rat fucking bastard but,” Eddie’s still going, heart still hammering under Steve’s touch even as Eddie swallows hard and fails to smile, looks ill with the attempt like it hurts to try: “you love him too much for that.”

Oh. Oh god.

“It didn’t break my heart, though,” Eddie clears his throat and glances away, to the ceiling, eyes too bright: oh fuck; “broke my goddamn soul,” and a tear falls, and Steve can’t help but wipe it away, and kiss the track. Even just once.

So he does.

“When I saw you again that first time back,” Eddie starts again, voice rougher and shakier as he reaches a hand for Steve’s. “I could have asked the boys to fly out, the execs offered, but,” and this time, the attempt to grin is more successful, like a weight’s lifted from it: “and you smiled at me, it felt like,” and when he shakes his head this time it’s for disbelief, but the kind that comes with awe; “and when we slotted back together like we’d never been apart, it was…”

Eddie’s voice trails, but it cracks at the end—Steve doesn’t know which does more to stop his words.

He’s grateful, relieved, when they come back. He’s powerless but to give when Eddie touches his cheek so gentle and breathes:

“And I had to tell myself again, and again,” he murmurs, stroking Steve’s skin like he’s precious: “you love him too much to take his dream away from him.”

“What did it matter?” Steve can’t help but ask, no malice in it, just the need to understand. “You had your dream, you have—“

They have a contract. They have an album climbing the charts. They’re not just on their way—they’re there. The only next step is to get bigger, and bigger, and—

“Dreams within dreams, wasn’t it?” Eddie murmurs close to Steve’s cheek, where maybe he’s pressing to be close, or maybe he’s hiding a little, so Steve strokes his hair because he can either way and relishes how Eddie leans, melts into it like always. “Inside the dream?”

Steve nods, more to encourage more words. More Eddie.

“Break my dream open and there’s you with me, every step,” Eddie whispers, his lips warm on Steve’s skin. “Break my heart open, same damn thing,” and that causes Steve to shudder, and his heart to pick up now, too. “Both just kinda crumble if you take out the center.”

Steve can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Wants to. Doesn’t think they’re lies. It’s just, he…

“Those,” Steve tries to speak but his voice cracks; he clears his throat and kicks his lips while he tucks Eddie into his neck, under his chin: “those would be good lyrics.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head and nuzzles Steve’s throat with the motion and this can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening, can it?

“No, those words were only ever meant just for you.”

And Eddie kisses the pulse point close to his mouth and holds there, like a sentry and a miser, and holy shit.

Holy shit.

“And I don’t know,” Eddie’s saying more, but it’s pitchy, thready, like he’s barely holding the words together at all; “I don’t know if it’s nostalgia, or convenience, or routine,” his voice breaks again and the sob’s in the word when it comes even if it’s not streaming down on his cheeks: “pity,” and no, no, not fucking ever, how—

“I was never your dream then, and I don’t even know if I can be your inside-dream now, and,” Eddie’s rambling, and he does that when he’s desperate, when he’s overwhelmed and overfull with feeling—and Steve knows that. Steve knows that about him.

Steve knows. Better than he knows himself, Steve still knows him.

“I just want the world for you,” Eddie whispers, stroking up and down Steve’s jaw; “my sweetheart. My sunshine,” he smiles so real and soft and Steve melts, like the heart in his chest starts spilling through his ribs, warm and liquid: “you deserve more than the world, more than fuckin’ me and I,” Eddie shakes his head again, more this time like he’s stopping himself, like it’s a defense mechanism and Steve reaches for his cheeks, broad palms on either side to hold him still because…he doesn’t want Eddie to stop.

Ever.

“Did I ruin it?” Eddie breathes, and barely at that, eyes so wide and swimming and oh, god; “did I—"

And Steve can’t help it. He can’t help but kiss him with all he’s got, even if it couldn’t be all Eddie’s worth in all the world. Steve can’t contain all that Eddie’s worth.

But he can give everything, because this is the man who already has it.

“What the hell was I supposed to be to a rockstar?” Steve tries to talk through his own tight throat, his own growing smile, his own threat of tears bubbling close to the surface. “How the fuck was I ever going to measure up, ever do anything but hold you back when you could have—“

“I come back to you, for you,” Eddie answers immediate; it’s not what Steve’s asking but he won’t lie and say he didn’t want to know, at least a little. “The handful of times I’ve tried,” Eddie shakes his head once now, definitive; “I have always left my everything with you.”

The idea that Steve’s spent all this time feeling empty, and hollow, and missing the best of himself where it lived in the man he loved—the idea he was wrong, that they both were so fucking wrong is…insanity.

“I had a bag half packed.”

Steve doesn’t need to explain further. The noise Eddie makes is pure pain.

“Baby,” he nearly croons, falls into Steve somehow closer, wraps him up tighter; “I wanted to kidnap you in the night.”

“I sobbed in my bed after you were out of sight.”

“I pulled over before the town sign, because I couldn’t see the goddamn road.”

And Steve…Steve doesn’t really have a decision to make about what he says next. What dream he wants; always has.

“I never got rid of the luggage.”

And Eddie hears everything he says in those words, because after everything, Eddie Munson knows him, and…yeah.

Steve’s been kissed in a lot of ways before. By this man in particular, even.

But this: if leaving broke Eddie’s soul, if somehow the lack of Steve somehow did that?

This is…this is the body meeting another body, heart to heart and tasting the way a soul slides back in place. It's Eddie’s hands in his hair like hell never let go and he’s happy about the idea; blissful for it, even. It’s—beyond anything Steve’s ever known. So: yeah.

It’s not a decision. It’s just a fucking given.

♥️

🎸also on ao3

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divider credit here

[buddiebeginz]

There's been a lot of discussion lately about when will Eddie come out and when Buddie canon will happen. I think a lot more people are feeling optimistic that it actually will happen now so the conversation has shifted into people being worried how this is all going to play out. I've seen people saying that if Eddie comes out and Buddie is fully confirmed this season (i.e. they confess their feelings/ there's a kiss) that would be way too fast. I have some issues with that line of thinking though.

For starters after Buck came out in season 7 we had a lot of new people join fandom (even more join during the summer hiatus), which I'm glad for all the new people who have found 911 particularly because the majority are now rooting for Buddie. Still I feel like a lot of the newer fan's opinions (on this topic) are being heard over some of us who have been in fandom for years.

I'm not saying if you're a newbie that your opinions on the show don't matter but I do think you should take the time to listen to those of us who have been around longer. The fact is if us long time Buddie fans hadn't been rooting for this ship for years we wouldn't even be as close to them becoming canon as we are. Buck likely wouldn't have had his bi awakening if not for us either. We've supported the show and pushed them for years to give these characters the storylines they deserve. That should matter when you're talking about something like how and when Buddie canon will happen.

I understand that people want Buddie to get together in just the right way but I think we all need to realize there is no one right way this will happen. We need to make peace now before it happens that there will be things about them coming together we won't expect even things we may not exactly like. All that matters is they finally get to take their relationship to that next level. That both Buck and Eddie get to realize their person their soulmate has always been right beside them. The other mains have had their person for years it's beyond time for Buck and Eddie to (consciously fully) have that too.

-----

I've seen people say that Eddie deserves a long journey to figuring out his sexuality and he needs to work on his mental health before being with Buck. And while I do think Eddie deserves more focus and screen time I don't see 911 doing a long drawn out thing with him. 911 typically does smaller 1-3 ep arcs for their characters. There's also the fact that they've been dropping hints for Eddie's coming out these past two seasons. Ones I'm positive they will connect back to other things throughout the series, like why it never worked out with him in his relationships with women.

I'm also personally not a fan of the logic that someone needs to do all these things to change themselves to be ready for love. Buck and Eddie have seen each other through their best and their worst. The show has literally made it a point to tell you that's what love is on numerous occasions. They said that love is about stepping into someone's mess with them. Why is it that Bobby didn't need to be a perfect person before he was worthy of Athena's love? Go back and watch season 1 Bobby was not in a good place when they got together. He was getting better but he was still struggling and up until the end of the season was still thinking about ending his life. But we see Athena "step into the mess" with him. She starts by going to church with him and we see them in s2 (early on in their relationship) talk about his past at different times.

I just feel like this fandom sometimes holds Eddie to unfair standards. He's been struggling for the past couple of seasons but I honestly think we're going to find out in 8b that it's connected to him having not felt able to live his truth. We saw in 806 that Eddie is starting to embrace joy and taking steps to fully be himself. That he's starting even in small ways to take ownership of what he wants and doing things for himself not because he feels obligated to.

I think him going back to Texas is not just to get Chris but the shows way of giving him a rebirth of sorts. They're bringing him back to where he's from and it's where I think Eddie is going to realize who he is and what he wants (Buck) and that him and Chris don't belong in Texas they belong in LA with Buck and the rest of their found family. And this time Eddie will get to make the decision to leave not based on fear or desperation or running away from his life but based on knowing where he truly belongs.

I know there's also a worry that if Eddie comes out in 8b it will feel rushed but the length of the story being told shouldn't be the main concern it should be how well the show tells it.

They could have him realize his feelings for Buck (because I do think him figuring out his sexuality is going to be tied to that) while he's still in Texas. That could be one whole episode just Eddie (like they did for Bobby in s7) or have it play out over a few eps. Then Eddie comes home and Buddie canon happens by the end of s8. I also feel like people are forgetting we have quite a few eps for 8b left to go so it's not like Eddie coming out and Buddie canon are both going to happen in 1 or 2 eps right after the other. It's very likely Eddie realizing his feelings will happen earlier and Buddie canon will happen in one of the last eps of the season.

Also even if they have Eddie come out in one ep that doesn't mean it's the end of him ever talking about his sexuality or facing any struggles with it. We haven't seen Buck facing much struggle when it comes to his sexuality but I think it will be different with Eddie. Even if Buddie officially get together in s8 in s9 we could still see things like Eddie having mixed feelings over being out especially when it comes to stuff like pda. Maybe we could even see Eddie talking to the priest again. Eddie coming out and Buddie canon happening doesn't mean it's the end of Eddie's sexuality journey it's just the beginning.

Like I said before we need to make peace that every part of these stories isn't going to make everyone happy but I think the last thing we should be doing when Eddie comes out and Buddie canon happens is look for reasons to criticize the show for how it happens. They will inevitably receive hate from bummys and people who will accuse them of making the show too gay. We can't add to that by complaining that a storyline didn't happen in a perfect way. If they actually finally go there with these characters we need to celebrate the show and be louder with our praise than any bs they'll get.

-----

On the subject of Buddie I've seen people say that if they confess their feelings for one another by the end of 8b it will feel rushed that the general audience won't get what's happening because the show hasn't set the groundwork for their relationship. I feel like I'm seeing this argument more from newer fans which I guess makes sense because to you it probably does seem like everything is moving fast. But for those of us who have watched Buck and Eddie's relationship develop over years and years this has all been a long long time coming in fact it's beyond overdue.

Some of you need to remember that Buck was supposed to come out in s4 (the shooting was likely to be the catalyst to him realizing his feelings for Eddie) and Eddie in s5 which means Buddie canon was likely to happen that same season. How can s8 be too soon when they were supposed to get together three seasons ago? They have literally been through almost everything Madney and Bathena have been through or some variation thereof. If Buck and Eddie were a straight couple they would have been married already. Buck and Eddie have spent 7 years building their relationship. Building a life and family together. Them finally admitting they're in love with each other is simply the natural progression their relationship should be taking from best friends (that have always been more than friends) to lovers. I think another reason people question if it's too fast for this to happen in s8 is because a queer couple like this has never happened on a show like 911 before. There's been plenty of slow burn straight couples. Which is why I'm positive if Buck and Eddie were a guy and a girl there wouldn't be this big debate over if it should happen now, people would be saying what the hell is this show even doing? Why haven't they kissed already?

-----

A big point about all of this that I feel like is being left out of the discussions is that 911 is made in the US and is first and foremost made for US audiences. I bring this up because as someone who is from the states it's very apparent there's a huge uprising of anti lgbtq rhetoric and legislation here right now. I know it probably seems unfathomable to some people that the US government could do something like ban lgbtq people from TV but there's already been pushes to ban things like lgbtq books on a state level so it could happen. But what is more likely is networks and companies have already started to capitulate to trump to protect themselves and their money. We have no way of knowing how bad things will continue to get with trump and how a network like ABC will behave in the future. We don't have the luxury to sit back and say let's wait until s9 or 10 for Buddie to officially get together when there's no certainty of what will even be happening in the US by the time those seasons are made.

Connected to that same topic of what's going on not just in the US but in other countries too. This attack on lgbtq rights means it's more important than ever for Buddie to finally be together. I know that 911 has always had queer characters and ships and they should always be respected for the important representation they've given on the show since day one (particularly characters like Henren and their family) but Buck and Eddie are ground breaking in a way we really haven't seen on TV before. Two men who are best friends and who have come out later in life. Who have fallen for each other over years of building their relationship. Who have spent years raising their son together. Who are an interracial couple. Buck and Eddie in a loving relationship together as a family with Chris is vital representation the world needs to see right now. That lgbtq people need to see. We need to see more depictions of queer joy in the face of all of this hate.

-----

I see people keep pushing back the time frame of when Buddie should officially get together when we were in s7 people were saying s8 now I've seen them say s9, I've even seen some people recently say s10. I need some of you to realize 911 is a network TV show and that this isn't the golden age of TV anymore. TV shows get canceled left and right sometimes for no reason at all. 911 itself was canceled from Fox after s6 not because no one was watching it but because Fox felt it was too expensive to make. 911 is a super successful show one that will likely go on to it's 9th season and that's an amazing thing when a lot of shows now barely even make it past like two seasons. But because 911 is so many seasons in and is so costly not just to make but also for the cast that means there's always a risk that it could get canceled again. I hope that 911 goes on for at least 10 more seasons but we can't guarantee that at all. The more we push Buddie back the more we run the risk of them not happening at all.

The other thing is I don't want Buddie canon happening at the end of their last season. I want to see how Buck and Eddie's relationship develops and changes once they're officially together. I want to see all the good and bad stuff they go through like moving in together and telling everyone (especially Chris). I want to see how their parents react. How that changes things for them at work. They deserve to have an epic love story just as grand as any of the other main couples have had.

To add to the point of us not knowing how long the show may go on for we also have no idea how long all of the actors plan to stay with the show. I'm not sure how long the contracts they've all signed are for at this point but they've all been with the show a very long time. It's clear they all love working together and I can't see any of them giving that up right now but that could change. We're lucky that Oliver and Ryan have continued to stay with the show after this many years but we can't guarantee they will stay forever. Eventually they could want to go off and work on something else or just get tired of playing the same character. The fact is everything is in the right place at the right time for Buddie canon to happen now. It has to happen now or it may not happen at all.

Also as much as some of you want them to drag out Buck and Eddie getting together I think you underestimate how long the fanbase is willing to hang on for. Like I said some of us have been waiting for Buddie to happen for years we're tired. I almost stopped watching the show after s6 I was that fed up with how they handled things. I'm positive if something doesn't change by the end of s8 that there are people who will stop watching.

I know some have said they want to see Buck and Eddie realizing their feelings and going into s9 pinning. I don't think the show needs to drag out their will they/won't they any longer. I've seen some people say well Buddie hasn't really had a will they/won't they because it wasn't explicit in the show. Buck and Eddie have never been written as just friends. Go compare them to Chim and Hen's friendship. There has always been more there between them always. Again if this was a straight couple people would be complaining constantly wondering why they weren't together yet. They don't have to be kissing for it to be a slow burn. They've done everything but though. I mean what do you call that scene in the kitchen in 3x09? Eddie literally put Buck in his will. He told Buck he trusts him above anyone else with Chris. Buck sobbed when he knew Eddie was going to be okay after he was shot (he's never reacted that way over anyone else on the show getting hurt). Eddie counted the seconds when Buck wasn't breathing. These two men love one another they just haven't admitted it yet.

We don't need more time to tell this story. 911 hasn't always gotten it right (see the weird Vertigo story) but when it's good it can be fcking amazing. The shooting eps are some of my fav eps of tv ever and not just of 911. I have faith in Tim and the show. Tim has wanted to put Buck and Eddie together for a long time and I know he knows he only has one chance to tell this story and get it right. I have faith that him and the actors and writers will do the story justice however it gets told. I know they know it means a lot to so many people. And you know the truth is we're lucky that our ship is even at this point. That we can all debate about how Buddie canon should happen because we're all so sure now that it is in fact happening. Cause the show was very close to ending on a finale that had Buck and Eddie ending up with other partners. Buddie would have only been able to continue to live on in fanon. Instead I truly believe we are months away from the show making history.

[helpimstuckposting]

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen

—

Steve did go upstairs to bed, but he did not go to sleep. He slipped out of the kitchen with the envelope clutched in his hands, waving an awkward goodbye to Linda, and slowly made his way up the stairs.

It was quiet on the second floor — no creaks or shuffling to be heard, aside from Steve’s socks on the hardwood — but he was half expecting Eddie to be leaning against the wall scoldingly, ready with a lecture on why Steve should have been in bed an hour ago.

He wasn’t.

Steve made it inside the dark room unhindered, not bothering to put on a light. He could make out the vague outlines of furniture as the glow from the moon outside cast a dim blue hue through the window. It was too quiet. Right about now, in the darkness, in the silence, was when he would crack open a bottle of whatever to blur his thoughts. He would drink until the room was a swirl of unidentified objects, out of focus enough to slip through his fingers, darkness creeping at the edges until he slipped under into blissful nothingness.

He couldn’t do that now. The outlines, even in the dark, were too clear for his sober mind. As his eyes adjusted, he could still make out the posters plastered to one wall, and the closet door he’d accidentally left cracked in his haste to leave before Robin caught him red handed, rifling through things he shouldn’t. There were no shuffling noises around the house to ease his mind and remind him he wasn’t alone, though he knew — he knew — that there were three other people in the house.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

The comforter was still rumpled from his first attempt at sleep the night before, and he could so easily sag into the soft blue sheets and close his eyes. He should, too; should listen to Eddie, should close his eyes, should drift away and let his mind rest.

He sat. He looked at the posters. He took in the differences like a Where’s Waldo book, skimming the similarities until he found what was new. There weren’t any trophies. No sports plaques, no car magazines. The darkness leaking from the cracked open closet kept drawing his attention as he stroked his thumb over the softened edge of the paper, still grasped in his hands.

Now wasn’t the time to read it. Maybe it wouldn’t ever be the time, but he should keep it somewhere safe, somewhere important. He stood and made his way to the closet. He closed himself inside, just like earlier, and pulled down the shoebox on the top shelf, gently placing the letter inside — nestled between the figurines and the rocks and the Polaroids, nestled where other important memories from this world belonged. It may have been delusional, but it felt like maybe if he put it here, the other Steve could read it, too. Maybe he could see how much his mother loved him, or maybe he already knew.

Steve sighed and placed the top back on the box, lifting it back up, onto the shelf. He stood, silent, looking around the closet, not entirely willing to leave yet. It seemed cliche now, after learning about the Steve and Eddie of this world, that he liked being in the closet of all places. It felt safer, here, in the enclosed space; able to see every corner — even as he stood in the dark. He didn’t feel the need to make sure his back was secure, that he wasn’t vulnerable, that nothing would sneak up on him, because he knew he was covered. He would sleep in his own closet in the other universe, sometimes. When the world seemed too big, and the house was too empty, and he felt the missing pieces of his friends like limbs that were ripped from his body, he would shut himself away and pretend the world was smaller, that he didn’t feel the ache as much.

The closet dampened noise — the clothing a barrier from the outside world, muffled it in a way that made him feel safe. He could smell the fresh detergent clinging to the cotton that hung around him, and the smoke that soaked itself into the leather, and the weed that was probably tucked safely away inside a pocket or two. Steve reached out for the leather jacket on Eddie’s side, slipping it off the hook.

It was heavy. It weighed his arm down as he pulled it closer to himself, holding it in front of his nose to breathe it in. It was peppery with age and cologne, acrid but familiar tobacco permeating his senses. It smelled like the vest he’d refused to throw out, the one still hanging in his closet with bloodstains and mud caked into the fibers. He slid to the floor, leather pooling in his lap, back against the wall as the jackets and sweatshirts tucked him safely away.

He wished he could hear Eddie snoring softly through the wall, or Robin shuffling around as she kicked off her blankets. He wished he could hear Linda puttering around in the kitchen, maybe making herself a cup of that sugar-water-coffee Eddie had told him about. For now, though — without the reminder of other people in the house — he laid himself on the floor, leather jacket tucked around his face as he breathed it in, and tried to get at least a couple hours of sleep, so Eddie wouldn't be disappointed with him when he woke up.

He didn't actually expect to fall asleep like that — a sneaker shoved uncomfortably into the back of his thigh — but the next thing he knew, Robin was shaking him awake in concern, her eyebrows creased and looking half a second away from tears.

"Are you okay? Steve?" she called, squeezing his shoulder so tight Steve thought it might leave a mark.

"Whuh- Robin?" he rasped, eyes feeling heavy and crusted over. He could have sworn that only seconds had passed from him laying down in the closet, to her shaking him awake.

She sagged in relief, letting go of his arm, but laying herself over Steve instead. She rubbed her face into his bicep, breathing him in until her heart rate had calmed. The cotton of his sweatshirt bunched under her nose, the heat from her breath soaking into his skin through the fabric. She sat up again, staring at him, taking him in, assessing that he truly was alright as he rubbed his eyes hard enough to see stars. Once she'd determined he was okay, she smacked him in the shoulder — entirely too hard for someone she'd just been panicked over, in Steve's opinion.

"God! I thought you'd keeled over or something! You weren't in your bed, and it looked like you hadn't gone to sleep, but your mom said she saw you go upstairs and you weren't in the kitchen, so I didn't know what to do, and-"

"Robs! Robs-," he tried to interrupt, sitting up and clutching at her shoulders, "deep breath, okay? I'm fine."

"What are you doing in here? Why didn't you sleep in your bed, or-," she paused, spotting the crumpled up leather jacket that Steve had been using as a pillow. He cringed, watching as her expression went from pinched in panicked anger, to confusion, to a sad kind of understanding.

“Oh, Steve.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his knees to his chest. “Yeah, I know, I’m pathetic,” he mumbled, resting his forehead against his knees so he didn’t have to see the pitying look in her eyes.

He felt the clothes shift above him, and Robin pressing against his side as she joined him on the floor. It was almost like they were in the bathroom at Starcourt again, though it wasn’t her and it wasn’t him who’d become best friends on that tiled floor. He glanced to the side, catching her eye, and he was surprised to find no pity there, just understanding.

“You’re not pathetic,” she insisted, voice firm with conviction.

He didn’t deign to reply, just kept watching her as she waffled over what to say next. She kept flicking her eyes to the leather jacket, still rumpled in a heap, and Steve hoped it wouldn’t be noticeably wrinkled when he hung it back up.

“Did you…,” she started again, trailing off. “I mean, you were surprised about Steve and Eddie, right? So you aren’t… I don’t know, together in your world? At all?” She was chewing on her lip, tapping her fingers nervously against her own corduroy clad knee. “Like, I know you said it before but, I mean, it’s kind of hard to picture in my head.”

He shook his head, burying it once again in his arms before answering. “Robs, I didn’t even know he was gay. I didn’t even know I liked guys, and Eddie’s got his own life to worry about anyway. I haven’t seen him in months.”

“So this is our scoops moment, huh?” She asked, and Steve had to laugh. Of course she’d be thinking the same thing he was, of course he wouldn’t even have to say it. He slumped to the side, resting his body against hers in the cramped space, and stretched his feet out — soles pressed flat to the opposite wall.

“Yeah, this is our scoops moment.”

“Are you like… coming out of the closet?”

“No, I kind of like it in here, actually. It’s cozy.”

Robin laughed and shoved her shoulder into his. “I know everyone kind of already knows, but you can still be you at your own pace, here. You can be… Straight Steve or something.”

“Straight Steve? I’m Straight Steve, now? You want me to go around saying that to everyone I see, ‘hello! My name is Straight Steve and I’m definitely not overcompensating for anything,’ get it together, Buckley." He rolled his eyes, rolled his whole head with it, bumping back into her shoulder as he did it.

“Shut up!” she squeaked, gripping his arm and shaking it in her hands like she was imagining it was his neck she was wringing. “You know what I mean, Dingus.” Her voice dipped, softer as she tried to squeeze every last drop of sincerity into it.

“I mean, you’re allowed to be your own person and do things on your own time. Even if some asshole already came out for you.”

“Wow, can’t believe your Steve was reduced to ‘some asshole’ so quickly.”

“I know you’re trying to make light of this very important conversation by being a bitch, but it’s not going to work. I’ll say it as many times as I have to until it’s drilled into your poofy, well protected skull. He may have been my Steve, but you’re my Steve, too. None of this ‘mine’ and ‘theirs’ and ‘others’ crap, alright? If we’re keeping you, then you’re mine. That’s final, I don’t make the rules,” she sniffed, head raised like she was just stating facts and it was all out of her hands. Her hands were still gripped around his bicep, too tight compared to her indifferent expression, and Steve knew she was just as desperate to keep him as he was to stay.

“Aren’t you literally making the rules right now?”

“Shut up, Eddie’s making breakfast and he told me to grab you, so let me get to grabbing.”

She stood up, releasing her hands from his arm and leaving a cold spot in their place. Hand out, presented like an offering, she towered over him and wiggled her fingers, “Come on, chop chop, coffee’s not going to drink itself.”

He sighed and reluctantly — though not at all reluctantly, he did not need to keep sitting in this closet alone like a weirdo — he took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. She tried dragging him out of the closet, but he dug his heels in and doubled back, making sure to grab the rumpled leather jacket and hang it back where he found it. He tried to make it presentable, to shake all the wrinkles out, but it still looked a little more frumpy than it had the night before. He just had to hope that Eddie either wouldn’t see it, or wouldn’t notice as he followed Robin out the door.

—

@devondespresso @machete-inventory-manager @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82

@goodolefashionedloverboi @anti-ozzie @13catastrophic-blues @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@likelylad @aellafreya @wxrmland @shunna @howincrediblysapphicofyou

@1-8oo-wtfbro @grimmfitzz @queenie-ofthe-void @redheadchimechild @bread52487

@inikokoru @fangirltofangod @jinojiboundagain @bookworm0690 @n0-1-important

@emly03 @stevieboyscoffee @fracturedfaultline @dauntlessdiva @theohohmoment

@dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight @ellietheasexylibrarian

[steviewashere]

🔞Okay big time Minors DNI🔞

CW?: Piss. So much piss. This is about Steve going head first into a piss kink.

You will not shame me.

Would you guys still love me if I wrote a piss kink fic where Trans Steve is getting eaten out by Eddie, but then he gets the incredible urge to piss—like...he already had to piss prior to them having sex, but he didn't want to wait any longer—so he just rips Eddie away from his pussy (by the hair, of course. because who would I be without one of them discovering they have a hair pulling kink mid-sex) and then just...pisses? And. Listen. Eddie's got two fingers in Steve's vagina, so he definitely feels it happening, too (another discovered kink wowza). And then Steve is cumming before he can really stop himself. (Listen. Pissing is sometimes borderline orgasmic.) So Steve has definitely thought about pissplay or some form of watersports before, like masturbating and almost pissing himself or wanting to give in to that desire while he's got a toy or fingers inside him. He's just giving in to desire before he can really pull himself away from Eddie entirely. And uh. Yeah, he's definitely squirting, too. Definitely.

Okay. Now that I've laid all my cards on the table, do you still love me? Would you still respect me enough?

[bananaactivity]

Davenport Family Headcanons and portraits for shits and giggles

There are 8 of these mother fuckers so buckle in. Some background info is in another post but ill probably add that part in as re-blog thing... anyways enjoy my yapping

Davenport Family

Donald Matthew Davenport ( 44 ) January 8, 1971

The Daven-family figurehead and oldest Davenport son. A genius who works well with tech related to transportation, communication, personal protection, training, security systems, and helpful but basic AI ( think eddy). His work was praised heavily within the market that Davenport Industries existed in. He noticed his brother getting in with some shady investors and tried to stop him leading to a huge argument and a few months of not being able to reach him he found out that Douglas had been horribly injured and killed. He took the time to gather his brother's possessions finding the bionic children and taking them in. He raised them keeping them sheltered so that the government would stop messing with them. Eventually, he married Tasha and had a stepson in Leo who convinced him that it was safe for the kids, and he's had a kinda stressful but great love-filled life since. Eventually, his brother returned and after being mad for a bit he soon got right back into the swing with his baby brother. He was so happy to have his brother back after eleven years. Still bullying him of course but it's all love. He is kind and smart and very nervous. He isn't stingy with his money either, he does a lot of charity events for struggling kids who wanna do S.T.E.M. He looks at some kids who remind him of his brother as being a bit strange. He doesn't discourage them but helps them move in ways that won't hurt them in the long run. You can be an alternative scientist without getting dropped in like his bro. Sadge :( Sometimes he crashes out but it's a nervous crash out. Sometimes the kids really mess up and you really gotta step back and be like… okay guys bsfr. His little brother was a mad scientist and a handful, he was stressed. And his “death” made him sad. Rose is also a stressor she thinks he's a wimp :(. He was a Hippie, a “playboy”, a big goofy nerd, he's gone through many phases. He loves all his children. I never minded them calling him Mr. Davenport. Though I will say mostly Chase does it in my AU. Not for trauma reasons he's just silly. They all call him Dad and Leo calls him Big D. Marcus and Dan call him Uncle D.( For a long time he would just talk to Eddy instead of people before he met Tasha. Eddy is just a helpful assistant with a personality he always made me mad as a kid. He can keep some personality but I don't like the Tasha disrespect keep it P with my queen. )

BI- curious for a while ( He had a fling with Peirce Harrington way back when they were in a fraternity together at some fancy Uni. You know Frat boys, I do. Freaks.)

Douglas Patrick Davenport ( 42)

April 6, 1974

The Daven-family emo child and youngest Davenport son. A genius who is a bit unethical and does crazy work related to human enhancement, cognitive modification, bioweapons, and biotechnology, really pushing human and technological capacities while blending them. His work was highly controversial of course, it was kind of taboo when talking with people interested in Davenport Industries. Though many “darker” people were interested in his work, Doug hadn't received much praise due to the macabre of his expertise. So he entertained these investors getting himself into a dicey situation, leading to a blowout with his brother in 2002. Doug's situation was a little dire so he faked his death having to leave behind ABC. He could only take the Androids. He stayed in his dark angry hole. Mad that his brother was still thriving while he kept up this new evil stuff. Hoping that the children he had to leave were okay. He got into it with some more dicey figures eventually meeting Krane who was interested after reading some of Dougs old Highschool blog posts about bionics. Doug had already lost a lot of money so he planned to get his kids back but ended up defecting back to his family… he loves them.

Douglas loves his kids. They don't call him Dad, he’s Douglas. Sometimes Uncle Dougy. Leo calls him Lil D. He told him to stop. He didn't. He understands he made choices and that resulted in them being left. He had only come back to exploit them for money… bros, not the dad. He is to his android boys and that's great. He loves um. He enjoys going to Dons charity events. Seeing kids like him with alt ideas. And he sees his brother helping and encouraging them. He'd take back some of his choices if he could but he's glad of the few positive impacts they had. He's still alt, maybe a freaky idea here a crazy thought experiment there. But he knows to reign it in now. He was getting a bit too crazy perhaps, may have broken many moral rules there but he loves his family. Perry thought he was a butch lesbian when they met but then they became friends and she was like ohhh. 

Bro doesn't care if he likes you he likes you, I think Perry is the same but she has some preferences. ( What if I shipped him with agent Graham what then? You can't stop me lol)

Tasha Francine Davenport ( 44)

April 6, 1974

A mother, a businesswoman, the baddie. She divorced Leos's dad and they don't talk about that bitch who cares. Her son is her baby she loves him. She loves Donald a lot too when they met he was pretending he was a Donald Davenport look-alike who worked at a coffee shop. He called himself Conrad Shadingfort. ( Bro is supposed to be a genius wtf)  they ended up hanging out. He bought the coffee shop she frequented just so he could continue working there to see her. She knew the whole time and thought he was just being silly,. He hung out with her for 2 years and got to meet Leo too. When he wanted to ask her out he told the truth and she was like: “Huh? You thought I believed you?? Well, you’re so cute and silly and I like you so I will go out with you!” He kept the coffee shop as a business also having made a bunch of cool gadgets to help the employees. It was a cool spot lol. And then they got married later yay! Now she loves all the Davenport children even the androids lol. She doesn't have the baby yet (I'm bad at drawing babees) She is sweet and caring and knows when to do things for her because it isn't selfish. 

Tasha is Demiromantic yayyyy

Adam Robert Davenport ( 19) July 7, 1996

Good ol’ Adam. My fav, my boy. He is so relatable, I relate heavily. I'm the older sibling I'm the silly sibling (I stand by Adam is just into absurdist humor with a heavy commitment to the bit, and isn't dumb. Bro says stupid shit on accident and on purpose and you'll never know ) When he Bree, and chase bully each other its normal sibling level. He never uses his super strength with his siblings; it is just his normal strength. Which is a lot mind you but it doesn't hurt it's just irritating. He's still a Taylor fan, but if this took place in 2024, he would add Chapplle Roan to his playlist quickly. I'm not a big Tay or Chapplle enjoyer, but I won't ever let that affect Adam’s truth. You know what he likes Billie and Sabrina too, Laufey, Solange, Nicki, Doechii, he loves women's music artists, all of them. They're all baddies who slay according to him, Even if they didn't make music in 2011-2016. He's super chill no stress on his bones unless someone touches his siblings. Yall should know how he gets when they're in danger. “ I can call my sibling a dusty bum bitch, but if you even look at them wrong I'm beating your ass.” Adam is a big animal lover he's been asking Donald to branch out with animal charity events and he's working on it yay ( Adam and Douglas began to bond over animals. Especially dogs)

He's isn't labeled like I said he's chill, I relate bro, love him. His preferences do align with aroace ( so relatable bruh) He's just silly yayyyy!

His abilities are under the L-P Chip: Lasers, strength, lung capacity, “big blue fart that blows shit up” as he calls it, and durability.

Bree Downy Davenport ( 18) November 22, 1997

Bree. another Baddie. Bad-bree. Sorry. She's silly, not a super slob like that one gross-ass episode but she's a bit of a fem-tomboy ig. Catching frogs and lizards carefully here, painting nails, and putting on baddie fits there. Finding interest in environmental issues a big fan of ethical tourism. She's been all across the earth. She's good at clocking her brother's tea ofc. She and Leo talk a lot, Leo has been in tons of AP classes and introduced her to AP Environmental Science she loved it and they joined the environment club together. She is obsessed with the island ecosystem as it is a man-made one. She's glad her brother Chase talked with Donald about making sure if he did this island thing that he made it as safe for the environment as possible and he did a good job. ( She and Douglas began to bond because while Douglas was “dead” he went to a lot of places, they talk about them and history all the time) She's not gonna get superpowers. Now that's something I'll get mad at, she has more bionic abilities they're just locked. If she was really feeling that useless (she's not) she could have asked Doug about unlocking another one.

She’s a bi queen. Also an elite-level fumbler. Not because she's a bad partner. Just so bad with expressing feelings so it never gets to that level.

Her abilities are under the S-S Chip: Super Speed, invisibility, wall stick, durability, and voice replication. She got rid of Spikerella she hated it.

( I don't like most of these portraits but this one just pisses me off like wtf happened to his face)

Chase Junior Davenport ( 18) August 5, 1997 Chase Chase Chase. He's on the case. He's very logical and often uses his computer brain for most tasks. It's like that one time they had a boys vs girls for no reason and he used his bionics immediately. He's always using his bionics just because of the computer brain. He's super lucky he can use two bionics at a time otherwise he'd be a dumbass while fighting. He also downloads apps to do most advanced tasks or hobbies, except guitar and martial arts which he learned on his own. ( He loves Radiohead, thats how he and Douglas began to bond heheh ) He pretends to hate Spike but also declines to get his app deleted. Spike always has his back even if he's a bit… dramatic and violent. This Chase is a bit more unsure and less cocky due to this Donald not being as cocky too. (That was def a learned behavior.) His identity took a while about to season three. When Leo first helped them assimilate into high school Chase thought he could download a bunch of teen movies to get ahead. Introducing him to a concept he literally never thought of. Having a partner. It always ended badly cause he just thought it was what he was supposed to do and he wasn't ever into it. This changes that one episode where Chase was tryna impress a girl and Adam was tryna stop him to Adam being like “ Bro you don't even like her stop before you hurt her fam..” Anyway, eventually he figured it out and told Adam who was like I coulda told you that fam..,

He's labeled Aroace and is very repulsed by everything. Leave his ass alone.

His abilities are under the I-S Chip: Computer brain that can do all computer stuff at elite computer speed, Laser Bo, Force field, telekinesis, Magnetism, durability, Spike, and enhanced senses

Leo Francis Dooley (17) May 7, 1998

I don't have many headcanons for Leo. He's perfect bro. Silly, perfect comedic timing, smart, and caring. He loves hanging out with Doug. He didn't need as much time to be bonded with him as ABC for obvious reasons. He and Marcus have beef most of the time though. That's how cousins be. He and Daniel are cool tho they love bullying Marcus together. He and Gordo though had a massive falling out ( Break up). Never again. He dated Jenelle, he had a tiny nemesis crush on Taylor. He’s single now.

He's a pan-king.

He doesn't have a chip but his abilities are plasma, energy-sucking or wtv, shields, and a strong leg,( his eyes are just aesthetic)

Marcus Julian Davenport ( 18) December 14, 1997

I don't have much to change about Marcus either. He's still a little freaky butthead. He loves his brother and he loves playing the guitar as well ( Radiohead enjoyer yayaya). He also does a bit of boxing, why not? His Archenemies are his Brother and Leo still, but in a goofy way not a murder way. He and Daniel were like the goofy duo tryna trick ABC and Leo. Marcus was intimidating while Dan was just being silly bonding with Leo. I just think it's funny if we just add Daniel to Marcus and Leo moments where Leo is clocking Marc's tea and Dan is just like “ Lol yeah Marcus is trash hehe”. He has a much better relationship with this Doug as Doug lets them be them and has never abandoned him. Doug was goin crazy when his sons got missing. He's so silly.

He's not super interested in relationships not in an aro way but just like not that interested. If he sees a bad bitch though who's to say lol

He has no chip; He has all Adam Bree and Chase's abilities both hidden and not.

Daniel Moore Davenport ( 13) March 21, 2002

When you look at the timeline you may see the name Danielle.( This is also a reference to Bree asking about why Doug never tried making another girl. He did here but Dan was like nah fam) Yah originally Doug was tryna do one female and male design. The female took a little longer which is why Dan is so much younger. After a few years tho Dan wasn't fucking with that. Doug was just like: Ya know what this is fine and a win. Bro is so sentient and observant he got body dysmorphia :(. He's just a silly boy now. He bullies his brother with Leo butttt... He has a lil crush on Spencer. (That's Spin's name that he uses with his non-friends but I think its funny to say) I think it'd be funny if Dan and Leo are bulling Marcus, but Spin comes in and bullies Leo causing Dan to turn around and swap sides. Then both Leo and Marcus side-eye him like: aw hell naw. I also think it's funny if they have that moment in the wimpy kid movies where Marcus is Rodrick looking at what Dan (Greg) is looking at ( it's Spencer ( Holly)) and he busts out laughing: “ BROOOO NO WAY WILL THAT EVER HAPPEN! AHAHAH” I gotta draw that lol. Unfortunately, if you've read that one fanfic of mine you know that Spin is the leader of a team comprised of Daniel and Bob. And you also know how I feel about writing inter-team relationships. It would piss me off if my teammates started being all goo goo-eyed while we're on a mission like stopppp. So Bob has to watch his oblivious bestie and a dumb-ass android get themselves into avoidable shit. Bob went on a sabbatical from having crushes and now he's a chill guy ( he learned from Adam that hot babes aren't everything and to take time for himself, bros 15 he's gotta chill) Anyways…

Dan does identify as trans and hes another guy whos chill unless he has a crush ( he thinks Spin is so cool bro awww he just wants to hold handsssss )

He has no chip and his ability is the replication of all tech not just bionic. Like if he touches a megaphone he can amplify his voice or record things and amplify them. can save up to two bionics in a folder to use without touching someone. If he wants to use a different two he has to clear his folder.

Back Ground Info for shits and giggles

How Bionics and Androids Work

There are three levels for Bionic Humans and five for Androids, here they are in order of Rank

Bionic Levels: Superior Bionics, Partial Bionics, Soldier Bionics

Andriod Levels: Superior Bionic Andriods, Superior Androids,  Androids, Basic Androids

There are only three Superior Bionics. Guess who? You never will… It's ABC, obviously. Subjects A, B, and C. They were the first to have chips, with so much care and passion put into them over the years Doug worked on their chips and embryos. They're irreproducable. Their bodies can handle the toll of bionics well, as they were grown and raised as embryos to do that. Yes, the chips can be fixed up if pieces are smashed but brand-new ones that have the same strength of capabilities can't be done. That's why they have the glowy-eye things in my art. Leos a special case shut it. The chips are called Lazer-Punchy, Intelligence-Smarty, and Speedy-Sneaky. L-P, I-S, and S-S, chips respectively. Doug is shit at naming things. This exclusivity was done so that the 3 are extra special I wanted as much separation from the super soldiers as possible. It was a little irritating back when that season aired to see how all these new bionic people made ABC less special but I didn't want to get rid of them. So now it's a spectrum. They can activate 2 bionics at a time more if they train super hard.

The Super Soldiers and Krane are Soldier Bionics. Significantly less strong and durable than the Superiors. They had bionics implemented later in life. (Super soldiers were orphans or homeless children taken by Krane with no family to return them to and also another reason) A lot of them in the case of Krane. Little did Krane know, but even if he wasn't defeated and destroyed or wtv, his excess of bionics would have killed him eventually. His body was deteriorating rapidly and he took a bunch of shit to cover up the pain like an idiot instead of realizing the actual issue. The amount of abilities he put in is what made him so strong and formidable but again his body would've completely collapsed eventually. That's actually what Geis was waiting on cause she wasn't as much of a dumbass. The island also provides a lot of health care to the super soldiers after saving them. That's also what got the government to back off again, How much care they needed and how “useless” they would be without this constant care and upkeep. Again they just are like an iPhone 8 to ABC's iPhone 11. if that means anything lol. They can only activate one bionic at a time.

Leo is the only Partial Bionic, again the tech was something Doug spent a while on. Bionics that can be used later in life without causing trauma to the receiver. He was preparing to sell it to Krane but he didn't which is why Krane did that worse thing. After Leos's severe almost fatal injury Doug had to try something. He used his plans on the injured areas (his legs, arms, and head) and this makes Leo Bioincs less strong than Superior Bionics but more stable than Soldier Bionics. Doug destroyed these original design books ( superior and partial) as he knew Krane would do anything to get his hands on something like that. Chase however has a file saved in his computer brain that can be accessed even if his bionics have been compromised. He can activate one bionic at a time, more if he trains.

There are only two Superior Bionic Andriods. Marcus and Daniel. M.A.R.C.U.S: Modular Android Reactive Construct Utilizing Sentience. D.A.N.I.E.L: Dynamic Android with Neural Intelligence and Emotional Logic . Again trash names dunno what Doug was doin. They have a level of sentience and intelligence that's pretty much like… Vision or Ultron ig. They have this humanity to them and I treat them as such thats why they're ‘bionic” androids. They are conscious completely, they have personalities completely. There are technically no limits to their use of bionic abilities as it relates to LR universe. Minus cooling systems and child locks ( on Daniel) that stop overheating. They can eat, drink, and sleep. They're anatomically accurate to humans as well. ( Not for freaky reasons ofc just Douglas trying to replicate human processes again this is what makes them bionic, they replicate humanity very well) Any fluids that a human can have are simulated by special liquids that need to be replaced once every 10 years. That being things like sweat, digestive fluids, tears, and blood. These are all simulations though, and if they aren't replaced it's no big deal just means they can't do any of that stuff like eat or sweat. It's all aesthetic that stuff, just Doug showing off. They also grow like a human again Doug being a show-off. Doug started them before ABC meaning technically Daniel is older than Adam lol, but he finished them at different times. Daniel wasn't conscious until 4 years after Marcus and 7 years after Adam. The reason is that it was much easier to leave Androids as a WIP than actively growing bionic children. (The androids start out toddler size cause it is easier to work with. just what I think seems reasonable not any science all of this is what I deem reasonably possible in a fake world, it's not even pseudoscience) They can use as many abilities as they want with consequences if they overdo it.

There is only one Superior Android, Troy. T.R.O-7:Tactical Robotic Operative 7. Troy is not a bionic android; he only looks like a human. He doesn't replicate any human functions, and he is not anatomically correct. He can't eat, sweat, cry, bleed, sleep, or grow. He looks exactly the same as when he was first finished. He does however have a complex personality, similar to the Bionic Androids. Hes like the… Friday to their Vision. If that means anything lol. Hes very vain ofc but he misses a lot of social cues and has a harder time empathizing. Gies didn't bother to fix these for reasons that'll be clearer in the next level. Geis started Troy in secret back in college after Doug first started Marcus and Daniel. She had 6 versions before he was functioning how he does now. He still is very pervious to water, overheating, and a wide variety of things that happen to machinery. The reason hes less advanced is due to Gies not caring about the intricacies of accurately replicating humane behaviors. She thinks of androids as an easier way to do bionics—easily controllable weapons without waiting for growing embryos that can use bionics. My Doug was more of a human bioscientist with dubious ethical and moral codes. Troy can use up to 3 abilities before he begins to shut down.

Any other Androids in Gies army are Androids. Different from Troy. Troy took all of her college and 5 years after she graduated. Again the only reason she was doing this was for convenience and a leg up in this world so she used Troy as her money maker and all of the others are even less human than Troy. They were all destroyed with no hesitation while Troy was jailed. 

Basic Android are things like Robo Perry and EDDY. Like the Siri and Alexas of our world but with a little more spice.

Timeline for shits and giggles

1992- Creation of Davenport Industries ( Don was 21 Doug was 17) 1994- Begins 2nd year of college for Doug ( 20) and the beginning of Marcus and Danielle ( Daniel) and the prototypes of the L-P, I-S, and S-S chips/ first meeting of Geisel 1995- Geisele begins work on the first Troy. T.R.O-1 1996- Doug Graduates and Davenport Industries begins taking off, making both Davenport's millionaires and affluential inventors and scientist 1996- Gisele and Doug break up 1996- T.R.O-2 1996- Adams embryo is now a baby boy 1997- Brees Embryo is now a baby girl 1997-T.R.O-3 1997- Marcus is sentient 1997- Chases Embryo is now a baby boy 1998-T.R.O-4 1999- Donald builds the Penthouse in Centium City 1999-T.R.O-5 2001- Geisel makes a breakthrough in the movie industry and ceases work on T.R.O-6 in favor of working her way up the industry 2002- Danielle ( Daniel) is sentient ( a few years later Danielle is Daniel) 2002- Doug (27) and Dan (31) fall out and Doug fake dies ( Adam 5, Bree 4, Chase 4) 2002- Dan finds ABC and Raises them 2006- The Gov tries to tack ABC for “science” but fails because I said so 2008-2013- Doug works with shady people to get money and he is fairly rich, he also meets Krane during this time who promises him a big payout for the tech of human bionics and partial bionics he left behind in his young adult rage 2011- Geseil completes T.R.O-7 and becomes an Industry Titan with her breakout hidden star Troy West ( if this were a big thing you’d hear about the movies hes is as sly ref across all the seasons) 2012- Dan ( 41) and Tasha ( 41) tie the knot and Leo finds out about the Rats 2013- Doug Returns and does his evil stuff but he and the android bros get redeemed 2014- Krane does all his evil stuff and teams up with Geis but also does a solo thing so he dies 2015- The Island is up and running for about a year 2016- Geis finally comes in and gets her ass handed to her 2017—- Elite force stuff

I hate everything including all these fuckers. Ignore all the rats lookin crazy as hell i was tweaking when i drew that i promise

[stolenkissesdiaz]

one thing about buck buckley is he’s gonna get into his jeep and drive his ass to eddie diaz’s house

[corrodedcoughin]

How many times has corroded coffin tried to incorporate ‘pyrotechnics’ into their performance (eddie lighting the spray from an aerosol can on fire and screaming because he scared himself. Then the rest of the band screaming because he turned to face them while still spraying the can and almost melting an amp, Jeff’s eye brows and a drum) before they had to be stopped?

[usercelestial]

*through clenched teeth* no matter how hard i try i will never change the minds of the purposefully misguided because they are choosing to look at things from one bad faith perspective to convince themselves that they are right and no matter how many times they're proven wrong, they will turn a blind eye and continue to claim a false moral high ground

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

I hope we do get to see Buck fully deliver an apology to Eddie

And I hope it’s not brushed under the rug by either of them.

[himbosandhardwear]

"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.

Eddie looks down. "Huh?"

"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.

"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."

He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"

That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'

He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.

"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.

"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"

"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"

Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.

"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."

He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.

"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.

"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.

He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.

"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."

"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.

"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.

Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."

He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"

He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.

"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.

Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"

Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.

"You're not straight?"

"No."

"And you were flirting?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"

They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. “Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[matchingbatbites]

Eddie doesn't like sports.

Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.

The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.

Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.

Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"

"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.

"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"

Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.

Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.

It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-

"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"

Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.

Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.

It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.

The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-

And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"

Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."

The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."

Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.

It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?

He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.

Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.

Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

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