#background platonic stobin

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Based on this incredible post that inspired the worms. Sorry it's not exactly right @flowercrowngods I just finished this and went to find the post only to realise it went in a different direction, I'm so sorry darling!

I'm sorry in advance if this is rubbish, this is my first time writing clarkson I just hope I did our beloved Uncle Wayne proud 💖

It all started with Dustin Henderson. Didn't everything?

The kid stopped by, trying to bribe Eddie into doing something with the creatures in the campaign or something. Poor boy still hadn't worked out that the only way to bribe Eddie to do anything was through Robin; because since the day Steve Harrington, of all people, had stepped through his front door, the three of them had been as thick as thieves. Wayne didn't question it, just accepted it as one of the eccentricities of the universe, especially when he saw just how happy the ex jock made his boy.

So although Dustin was way off in trying to find the way to Eddie's heart; he'd easily found Wayne's, he'd do anything for good coffee and homemade baked goods.

Especially flavourful, rich coffee and mouthwatering baked goods. Bribery through fresh ground coffee beans and handmade delicacies would always win him over, even if it was a hit and a miss for the little genius. More for me, he'd thought gleefully to himself as he'd pilfered the treats, sneaking out the front door to sit in his rocking chair on the porch, enjoying watching the world go by and listening to his kids bicker with a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

Wayne was a man of simple pleasures. He'd always been happy with his store bought instant and the kind of pastries that pop out of a can, but the delicacies Dustin had brought by just wouldn't leave his mind. He was having cravings, zoning out at work just thinking about them. And then one morning as he was driving home from a long shift, Someone Like You blasting from the speakers, the slow beat easing the tension in his shoulders. The traffic lights switched from green to red as he rolled through town, not that he minded, the only thing waiting for him these days was his bed but as he slowed to a stop, tapping along to the beat on the sill of the rolled down window, he spotted the new bakery the kid had bought them from.

The lights flipped back, and suddenly he found he was pulling into an open parking spot outside Clarke's. He's pretty sure the building had been an ice cream parlour before the quake, but most of the buildings in town had been refurbished and reopened in the last few years; sometimes with the same business, sometimes with something new. The sign above the door was painted in red and white stripes, with Clarke's Bakery written in pretty maroon calligraphy. The notice in the window was flipped to Open, it surprised him, given how early it still was, most of the town was still in bed and there wasn't a soul to be seen when the little bell above the door jingled as he entered, he would've been worried that the building had been left open by accident if it wasn't for the luscious smell permeating the air and the "Be right with you," that someone called from the back room.

Waiting was fine with him, it gave him a chance to familiarise himself with the quaint, little place. The chalkboard price lists, the display cases were so shiny they were obviously brand new, and unfortunately disappointingly empty, but he supposed it wasn't surprising given how early it still was. The smell coming from the back more than made up for it though, it was making his mouth water, and he just knew whatever they were making was going to be delicious in the way that store bought anything just wasn't any more.

Behind the counter was one of those fancy coffee machines, the ones with all the buttons and the levers; Wayne had less to deal with at the plant, but the best thing of all was the array of cups sitting on top of the shiny machine. They were all different shapes, sizes, colours and characters; it reminded him of his old collection, the one he lost to the "quake" but honestly he couldn't be too sad about it, after weeks at Eddie's bedside he was just glad that was all he'd lost.

The whole place just felt really comfortable, the tables and chairs had all been picked for comfort rather than style, most of it was mismatched, but it was the type of furniture that invited you to sit, even the rug under the sofa in the back corner looked like the type you wanted to take your shoes and socks off and sink your toes into.

Homely was the word that came to mind, unlike the kids who'd called it cute, whatever that meant; how anything inanimate could be cute was beyond him. Puppies, you betcha, babies, absolutely; the man who'd just appeared behind the counter wearing a shirt and bow-tie under a flour covered apron, icing sugar splotches on his face and mischief dancing in his eyes, yep, 100%, definitely cute.

"Wayne! Hi," Scott greeted with a wide grin that slowly slipped from his face as Wayne's brain came up with nothing but static, "Scott Clarke, remember? I taught your Eddie. We were paired up together when little Will went missing," he continued, looking less and less sure of himself.

Wayne hated it. He knew all that, he knew Scott, of course he did, but it was like his brain wasn't connected to the rest of his body and all he could do was blink and breathe. It felt like it took a Herculean effort just to breathe out a dreamy "Hi."

Scott blushed and looked down at the counter, glancing up at Wayne through his lashes, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth as he drew delicate patterns on the notepad sitting beside the register that Wayne's pretty sure he recognised from attempting to help Eddie with his homework once upon a time.

"What can I getcha?" Scott asked, pen poised over the paper.

It was like the connection snapped back into place as he thought about the coffee and pastries Dustin had brought.

"Dustin," Wayne started, raising his hand to his shoulder, "curly hair, logo t-shirts," Wayne did his best to describe. Scott taught a lot of students, just because he remembered the class disrupters like Eddie didn't mean he remembered them all.

But Scott just chuckled jovially, "I know Dustin," he admitted fondly.

Wayne smiled softly, anybody who held any affection for one of his kids was good in his book, "He brought something over for Eddie last week, coffee and a-"

"An Americano and a Yum Yum," Scott finished for him with an affectionate smile, pushing himself off the counter to start filling components and pressing buttons before disappearing into the back.

Wayne sighed heavily, leaning bodily against the counter. He was glad for the breather, he didn't know what was wrong with him; an old man with butterflies and a lead tongue, cheeks flushing crimson as his mind played him a loop of his lovesick greeting. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Finding a bloke attractive wasn't new to him, he'd been in a committed relationship before Eddie had been dropped on his doorstep by his deadbeat brother, but John had asked him to choose between them and hadn't liked that Wayne didn't even need to think about it, of course he would always choose Eddie.

What was new was being so obvious about it. 

Maybe he'd spent too much time around Steve and Eddie, they were careful in public, of course they were, but at home, with their loved ones, they were never ashamed to let their love and affection for one another shine through; no matter how much the kids would moan or mime gagging, they didn't care. Most of the time, the pair only had eyes for each other anyway. Maybe he was overtired. Or maybe he was just tired of putting up barriers. 

When he'd first met Scott, it was the excuse that he was Eddie's teacher. When they'd been paired to find Will, he'd admittedly enjoyed being with Scott, the man was pretty and smarter than half the town put together but searching the town for a potentially dead kid wasn't exactly conducive for romance. But now, he found he couldn't find an excuse, especially now that he knew Scott was the one behind those heavenly pastries and rich coffee.

Scott came out the back carrying two trays, one filled with glazed doughnuts and the other with the pastries he liked, and Wayne felt his mouth salivate. The smell alone was amazing, but they looked incredible too, and he was hungry enough he felt like he could easily eat everything on both trays and still have room for whatever was still baking. The trays were slid delicately into the display case, Scott's tongue poking adorably out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Wayne couldn't stop himself from smiling, no matter how much he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, Scott looked up and caught his eye, the two men smiling gently at one another over the counter before Scott turned back to the coffee machine.

"Sorry about earlier," Wayne apologised sincerely, "I just pulled a double at the plant and all I've been able to think about for the past two hours have been your pastries," Wayne admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced up when Scott didn't reply immediately to find he still had his back turned to him, but that didn't mean Wayne couldn't see his beaming smile in all the shiny surfaces surrounding him, or the blush slowly creeping from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

Wayne finds himself wanting to witter endlessly like Eddie does when Steve makes him all shy and giggly. He wants to start talking about his day and the weather and how he can picture Scott in his rocking chair at home, maybe sharing the chair or maybe Wayne could picture building him his own, so they could sit together; eating pastries hand in hand, watching the world go by. He doesn't say anything though, just rocks on the balls of his feet ducking his head, unable to keep the smirk off his face at making a pretty boy blush.

"I guess that means you're taking this to go," Scott finally says over his shoulder, steam clouding around him and turning the icing sugar splotches sticky. Wayne could be mistaken, but he would say Scott sounds a little disappointed.

He doesn't trust himself to speak, the chances of something inappropriate, like "Marry me?", coming out of his mouth are far too high, he is a Munson after all; so he just hums affirmatively.

"I'd say it's a shame, but I have to get to work as soon as I've got the kids set up for the day," Scott admits, his whole ears are beat red, the blush spreading quickly up the back of his neck.

"Maybe we could continue this another time," Wayne says as Scott hands him a warm cardboard cup and a paper bag, their fingers brushing and sending sparks up his arms; it was supposed to be a question, but it didn't sound enough like one.

"I'd like that," Scott replied with a dazzling smile that Wayne can't help but mirror. He nods once, walking backwards towards the door, not quite wanting to break the connection and not really wanting to leave, but not wanting to overstay his welcome or make Scott late for his day either. "Bye," Scott chuckled as Wayne fumbled with the door handle letting himself out with a little paper bag filled wave, floating back to his truck on a cloud as Scott disappeared back into the back.

And that's how it goes for a while, Wayne stops in every morning on his way home from work, they chat about the kids or work or the latest article Wayne read in his copy of UFO. They chat a lot about the children's book Scott is writing, about six kids who all sound suspiciously like the ones Eddie and Steve have practically adopted. A genius with a floppy head of curls who recruits his friends into discovering the secrets of the universe that the adults have been hiding from them. A ginger haired girl with an attitude big enough to fight anyone who gets in their way. A sportsman and an artist who use their unique skills to their collective advantage, and a grumpy kid who always puts himself between his friends and any kind of danger. He nearly laughs when along the way, the little group meet a girl with dark, cropped hair who happens to have superpowers; she can move things with her mind, which she uses to help and protect them along their journey of discovery.

Wayne falls a little bit more in love with every detail, it's like Scott knows, but Wayne knows he doesn't, he's just heard what he'd assumed to be fantastical tales from the kids and pieced it all together with his brilliant imagination.

Then one day, Wayne pushes open the front door and there's no beautiful smells, there's just crashing and cursing coming from the back room then deadly silence other than the jingle of the bell, followed by a cautious "Wayne?"

"Yeah, it's just me," he calls back, flicking the lock on the front door, only noticing that the sign on the door was flipped to Closed when he goes to change it himself.

As he heads behind the counter, he can hear Scott dashing around, the overpowering smell of flour nearly choking him as he wanders into the back. The kitchen looks like a bomb has gone off, there's bowls and packaging and ingredients everywhere. Scott looks beyond stressed, darting between three different bowls and trying not to slip in the flour he's spilled all over the floor. He's not even wearing an apron, so his shirt is covered in flicks of batter; he'd look adorable if he didn't look so distressed.

"What happened?" Wayne asks, picking up the dropped bowl and finding the broom from the closet, sweeping up the flour, careful not to trip Scott up.

Scott sighs heavily, "Power cut killed my alarm clock," he mutters, beating the ingredients in the bowl he's holding, simultaneously pressing buttons and flicking switches on the ovens.

Wayne looks around a little bewildered, he hasn't baked anything other than a box cake since he and Al would stay over at their grans, but he isn't useless in the kitchen, especially with a little instruction.

"What can I do?" he asks, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands thoroughly in the sink, he'd already washed up at the plant, but it wouldn't hurt to do it again, he doesn't want to give anyone food poisoning. Scott doesn't say anything but as Wayne turns around to find a drying towel, he finds it's because Scott is frozen in place gawking at him, Wayne can't keep the endeared grin from his face, "Scott?"

It seems to snap him out of it, he immediately begins stirring again, blush spreading over his cheeks, pulling the towel off of his shoulder to hand it to Wayne. He steps towards the island where most of the chaos lies and points to one of the bowls, "Could you stir that one? Just until the butter goes a creamy colour," he asks tiredly, flashing Wayne an appreciative smile when he picks up the wooden spoon and starts combining the ingredients.

Wayne glances at the clock above the ovens, Scott has to leave for school in the next hour and nothing is even close to being baked yet. The kids would help, sure it's early, but he knows they all adore Scott; Steve and Eddie have done nothing but talk fondly about him for weeks. And Wayne isn't stupid, he knows they've seen the array of coffee cups and paper bags that he's brought home recently, he just wishes they'd stop trying to goad him already.

"You got instructions for each of these?" Wayne asks, wandering around the room looking into each bowl with his bowl tucked under his arm. Scott just nods, counting to himself under his breath, grabbing a binder from the corner of the room and flicking it open on the one spare bit of counter space. It's filled with laminated pieces of paper, ingredient lists and instructions for each of the pastries that usually live in the display cabinets. "You got a phone?" Wayne asks next with an impish grin on his face.

One quick call to Steve's and twenty minutes later the kitchen is filled with the kids, each with their own bowl and recipe. Eddie's in the corner moaning about how early it is, Max is threatening Dustin for bumping into her for the sixth time in as many minutes, Steve and Mike are bickering, Steve hands on his pyjama clad hips as Mike wags his finger at him. It's loud and hectic, but everything is getting done and if they're lucky Scott might only be a few minutes late for work. 

It isn't anything like the peaceful mornings they're used to, chatting amicably as Scott potters, but as Wayne catches Scott's eye over the kids heads, he finds his own besotted smile mirrored back at him.

Dough is rolled and stretched and shaped and placed on baking trays. Robin's in charge of timings, perching herself on a stool with everyone's wristwatch in her lap, shouting out when a pastry is finished. Lucas and Steve are in charge of cooling, mainly because they're the least clumsy and Mike, Will and El are in charge of decoration, most of it only involves dipping the pastries in bowls of icing but the kids all quickly settled themselves into their preferred roles and who are Wayne and Scott to argue when they've collectively got the job done faster than they ever could've alone.

There's only four pastries to finish baking by the time Robin's yelling that they're going to be late. The kids who run the bakery during the day are already set up and dealing with customers, Wayne's agreed to stay behind and pull the remaining trays out of the oven, luckily nothing needs decorating, just cooling and taking to the display cabinets. There are implements piled high in the sink, even though Eddie and Dustin were supposed to be washing up. Wayne thinks they spent more time flicking bubbles at one another and joking around, but he doesn't mind; he's always found cleaning the dishes to be relaxing.

He finds he's exhausted as the adrenaline rush dissipates, but none of that matters as Scott dashes into the office to grab his briefcase and flies back into the kitchen, kissing Wayne quickly but firmly on the cheek, only seeming to realise what he's done after the fact. 

The kids all stop dead in their tracks, the kitchen going eerily silent for a second before Steve and Eddie start rounding up the kids, shooing them out the backdoor, dragging Robin along with them, leaving he and Scott alone in the suddenly quiet space. Scott flushes, panic flaring in his eyes, so Wayne just grabs him by the wrist and pulls him closer to plant a kiss on his flour covered cheek, dusting the ingredients off with his thumb as he wishes him a good day. Scott just grins vibrantly, heading for the exit, pausing briefly in the doorway, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Wayne isn't sure whether it's supposed to be a statement or a question, "Tomorrow," he promises with a nod. Scott's grin turns infectious then he's gone, disappearing into the alley, the door falling shut behind him, leaving Wayne alone for the first time since he left his truck. 

He pulls the first two trays out of the oven as the timer buzzes, letting the pastries cool on the rack. Then he makes a start on the dishes, letting the gentle buzz of the bakery and the warm soapy water sooth him, he hasn't felt this way since he was a teenager; sneaking kisses and sharing cigarettes with Tony behind the bleachers. 

He finds it isn't as terrible as he assumed it'd be, to fall in love again; to let someone into his life because it's easy with Scott, so, so easy. Even when they talk about what Scott calls his theories, Scott just gives him this look that almost says "God, it's a good job you're handsome" like Wayne can hear him projecting that thought into his head with his amused smile. Even when Scott lays out logical arguments that seem to prove to him that the supernatural doesn't exist, it's so easy to just give him a look of his own. They almost remind him of Eddie and Steve when they start up a discussion about sports or the game Eddie likes to play with the kids, each with their own look that says "I love you, but you're wrong" and the thought only makes him smile wider.

It doesn't take him long to finish up in the kitchen, and he feels a calm acceptance by the time the ovens are off, all the pastries cooled and on trays and all the implements clean and dry. He's always been able to do that, have his world shifted on its axis and within the hour just be able to understand within himself that that's his new normal now.

He feels almost content as he drops off the final trays out front, giving a cheerful wave to Claudia when she shouts his name from the line of people waiting for their chance to get their hands on Scott's pastries.

Seeing how busy it is out front, he turns to head out the back door, pausing as he passes the office with this overwhelming need to just leave something for Scott. He wanders in and sits down at the desk, pulling a piece of paper from the notebook on the tabletop; pen poised as he contemplates the soundness of his decision and throwing caution to the wind as he envisions Scott's smile as he'd left for work.

Wayne's never been much of a wordsmith, not like his Eddie, but he's been listening to a lot of his favourites lately, the cassettes in his truck switching regularly between Cash, Clapton and Williams. It'd been Williams this morning, and the lyrics had been circling in the back of his mind since he'd walked into the bakery's chaos. He puts the pen to the paper, hearing Don's voice in his mind as he writes, trying his hardest to make it legible.

Well I don't believe that heaven waits, for only those who congregate. I like to think of God as love, he's down below, he's up above. He's watching people everywhere, he knows who does and doesn't care. And I'm an ordinary man, sometimes I wonder who I am. But I believe in love. I believe in music. I believe in magic. And I believe in you. Pausing, he makes his choice and adds on, Love, Wayne.

[devondespresso]

Was listening to Heart's album little heart and this feels so Vickie Stranger Things

She found them for their slower fantasy-feel songs and ended up loving their whole range. Theres just something about how their singer uses ger voice that perfectly scratches the brain and she has a blast trying to imitate her while singing in the car. they're probably the most recurring band on her mixtapes.

a copy of little heart id one of the first things she shares with Robin to bond outside of school stuff. Robin has like 3 favorite songs because you need one for every type of song because how are you supposed to compare barracuda and sylvan song fairly?? (Steve has no such reservations and insists kick it out is The Best and it sets robin off on a little rant every time)

[dreamsteddie]

Actually, Steve and Robin spend every Valentine's Day together after Starcourt with no exceptions ever.

It starts that first February after summer when Steve is still in a rut and Robin is newly pining after Vicky and they are both miserable. Steve hates seeing Robin upset so he says fuck it and asks her to be his Valentine that year. He goes all out with the gifts getting flowers, Jolly Ranchers (chocolate gives Robin headaches), and a new ring to add to her stacks. They have a fancy dinner on Mr. Harrington's card at Enzos and go back to Steve's for a movie night.

The next year Valentine's comes along just before Steve gets with Eddie and Robin gets with Vicky and they are deep in pining mode at that point. They spend the day together eating the expensive icecream and listening to their sapiest records. Eventually Steve breaks out the wine and they poor it directly into their pints and get pleasantly wine drunk and pass out on the couch.

After that, it kind of just becomes a tradition. The next year they are both dating their partners but they both decide that Valentine's Day is a platonic holiday now and spend the day together. Their partners are a little put out but are mollified by promises to have Romantic Valentine's a week later. That year Robin is off at college an hour away (Eddie and Steve moved to a town not far from her school in Chicago) so she insists on planning it all and has him come out to see her and she takes him all around the town.

No matter how far away they are they always make sure to see each other for Valentine's Day, even if it means one of them getting on a flight to be wherever the other is because they are soulmates.

[spookystarfishzombie]

[imfinereallyy]

Passengers

It took Robin three years to get her license. Which all things considered, the twice apocalyptic experiences, and, ya know, being poor, wasn’t too bad in her opinion.

20 was as good as any age to get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Okay, if she was honest with herself, really honest, maybe her calculations were off. It wasn’t three years exactly. She could have gotten her license at 16; hell, she could have gotten her permit at 15. So it quite honestly had taken four, five years max to get her license.

But the first two years didn’t count to Robin.

She didn’t even give a thought to driving until she was 17, and Steve was driving her every day without question. She hadn’t thought about it until Steve threw his keys at her, telling her to drive, that Robin realized he was driving her every day because he wanted to, not because she was a license-less loser.

It cracked Robin open when she finally had time to think about it. After all the blood, and gore, and almost losing Steve several times, it hit her that this dingus really wanted her by his side.

So, Steve was really to blame if she ever got into a car accident. Sure, he didn’t push her to get behind the metal contraption, but Robin wanted to pay him back somehow, for all the rides and love over the years.

That was how now, Robin was seething in regret as she drove the rest of the way home, in the dark, from their road trip.

See, when Robin had pictured them doing things like this, it had just been the two of them. Steve in the passenger seat, arguing over music and the best car snacks. Windows down, yelling about who fucking cares, and just laughing their way through different states.

Robin hadn’t taken into account there might be other people involved in her bestie road trip fantasies. No, instead, it wasn’t the terrible two, platonic soulmate extravaganza she pictured. Instead it now involved them, Steve’s ex-turned-best friend, whom Robin had a horrible crush on, Nancy Wheeler, and a sweet metalhead who Robin saw as a brother, and Steve had a huge soul-consuming crush on Eddie Munson.

Robin begrudgingly would admit the additional two had made the trip better, so she didn’t have too many complaints. Actually, in reality, Robin only had one big hang-up about the whole thing.

Steve was in the back seat.

Which would have been fine if Robin had been there too, but she wasn’t. It was her stupid turn to drive in the home stretch of their way home. Instead, Robin had Nancy beside her. Which should have brought her joy but instead made her nervous and clammy and not at all suited to be behind the wheel of the death contraption they called a car. Plus, Nancy was asleep.

Her snores were pretty cute though.

Robin seethed silently; it was Eddie’s fault. He positively insisted on sitting with Steve in the back. Something which Robin would normally tease the both of them for, the oblivious idiots that they were, but Robin was a possessive little creature. It was a trait of hers she tried to bury deep down. She knew people didn’t like that; they didn’t like when people clung. Didn’t like that she felt like baring her teeth, even sometimes wanted to actually bite at people who tried to pry her people away from her.

It was funny, really; the only person who understood that part of her was Steve himself, which made her possessive side come out even more. Like seeks like, and crazy seeks crazy.

God, if she was every lucky enough to get a girlfriend, she was screwed.

Robin had resisted looking in the review mirror for twenty minutes. Probably not safe, but driving angrily wasn’t either, and if she saw the two of them giggling like school girls, she was gonna flip the car.

But Robin was never good at resisting temptation. She was most definitely the child who would touch the plate after someone told her it was too hot. So Robin took a glance, shoulders tense and mouth dry, and saw—

Well, shit. Robin melted. There in the back seat with their heads leaned against each other were Steve and Eddie, sound asleep.

The edges of Robin softened; she remembered Steve pinching his nose earlier, eyes squinting on his turn to drive. She had been in the passenger seat then. She had wanted to ask but instead said nothing, knowing he would wave her off. So she claimed her turn to drive, and then Eddie had been insistent that Steve come in the back with him and—

Robin was getting it now. Although Eddie had a big fat gay crush on Steve. That wasn’t why he wanted to be with Steve in the back. He had noticed, too. The edges of sleep deprivation creeping slowly into an oncoming migraine for Steve. Eddie had seen Steve pushing himself, and somehow also knew that if Steve stayed in the front, he would feel obligated to stay awake.

Robin hadn’t realized that, Eddie didn’t just want Steve; he paid attention to him. Eddie noticed Steve the way Robin noticed him.

Robin spared another glance at the two of them, wrapped around each other like vines snaking up an old oak tree. The last of her anger seemed to fade away. Even after all this time, none of them got a lot of sleep. Steve, most of all, seemed to run on fumes. Robin knew he couldn’t sleep soundly alone, but also couldn’t fall asleep around just anyone. For a long time, Robin had been his only cure for his insomnia. Steve never dared to fall asleep in front of strangers, afraid he’d scare them with his screams.

But here Steve was, in the arms of the man that he loves, not a single worry line on his face as he slept the rest of the trip away.

Robin knew, with certainty, Steve felt safe.

And because of that, Robin thought wistfully to herself, if Eddie Munson ever wants a turn at being a passenger, she wouldn’t mind taking the wheel for him, too.

***

a short lil thing to get me back in my writing grove. Is inspired by a friend of mine who is in her 20s and doesn’t drive. It’s totally okay and everyone moves at their own pace! And also I’m definitely a person who likes to drive others around as a sign of love (I am Steve coded I am beginning to realize)

Sorry if this isn’t any good, or seems rushed. Writers block is a bitch.

[kcdj]

Eepy stobin~

[little-annie]

Teacher!Steve x Gardener!Eddie

🌸

What if there was a sticky sweet Steddie fic where Steve was a teacher and Eddie's family owned a greenhouse where they ended up falling in love?

🌸

Oh wait ⤵️ There is.

Stunning artwork from the ever amazing @doomcheese 🌸 it was a pleasure working with you.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 12th: Soulmates | Eight - Sleeping at Last | Perceptive a/n: steddie, soulmates au (phillia + eros). eddie & jeff as platonic soulmates, stobin soulmates mentioned always. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Soulmates, Eddie scoffs to himself as he doodles in his notebook at the back of the coffee shop. Bullshit. 

He knows it’s actually not, that people walk around every day hand-in-hand with beautiful, swirling tattoos that grow in intricacy and detail the more time they spend with their soulmate. Most days, Eddie doesn’t mind that the simple snake design on the inside of his wrist never so much as slithers, but today? Today, he minds. 

Dating in the world of soulmates is challenging. He tries to just focus on how feels, on if the person sitting across from him is compatible with his lifestyle, on if there’s any kind of spark, but it’s inevitable that at some point, both he and his date look down at their wrists to find nothing. 

His coffee date had gone well enough but, like always, was a dead-end. How many paths can one person try before the destination seems moot? 

So he sits and scribbles in his notebook, hoping that perhaps staying in the coffee shop rather than returning home to the apartment he shares with Jeff will provide some inspiration. That tattoo, the one that’d started as a small star on his ankle, has grown into a whirling galaxy since moving in with Jeff– a philia connection if he’s ever seen one. But if his eros tattoo won’t build upon itself naturally, he’ll do it manually with a tattoo gun. 

It also helps that the barista is perhaps the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever laid eyes on, enough so that it’s… actually a little intimidating, if he’s being honest with himself. Intimidating to the point that Eddie’s yet to approach him for a refill since the girl who’d given him his first sugary abomination finished her shift. Besides, the mystery barista must’ve already found his soulmate. His entire left arm, from fingertip to at least his elbow, is covered in delicate, colorful designs that twist and wind about his skin, curling around each finger and looping gracefully up his arm.

I can still enjoy the view, he justifies to himself, taking a sip from his cup and remembering for the third time that it’s empty. 

He sighs and sets it back down, clearing his throat. It’s as good a time as any, he supposes, as he stands from his little corner table by the window and strolls across the room to the counter. 

“Hi, what can I get started for ya?” The barista asks, his name tag now visible and proclaiming Steve. 

“Uh,” he starts. “Salted caramel mocha, please?” 

Steve’s smile is bright and he leans on the counter, leveling it straight in Eddie’s direction. All Eddie wanted was a refill on his sweet treat disguised as coffee and instead, it feels as though he’s smacked in the head.

“Comin’ right up,” Steve replies, turning around to get his order going. “You’ve been sitting over there for a while, how’d that date go?” He asks with the confidence and familiarity of someone Eddie’s known his entire life. 

“Watching me, were you?” 

Steve grins over his shoulder, shrugging. “A little.” 

“I’m flattered. Well, I’m still here and they’re not so that oughta tell you everything.” 

Steve hums and turns back to the machine, finishing up his order. Eddie’s heart beats rhythmically, somehow slowing and quickening all at once and his lungs feel buoyed by something more powerful than his breath. When Steve faces him again and hands him his cup, exchanging it for the empty one in Eddie’s hand, they both freeze. 

Eddie’s snake begins to move. 

A clear, serpentine movement at the center as small, geometric lines begin to appear in the background. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers, setting his full cup down so he doesn’t spill it. 

“Yeah, holy shit.” Steve places his other arm on the counter, the blank one, and Eddie sees that it’s not blank. There’s a small, barebones tree on his forearm whose leaves begin to blossom and shake, different shades of greens and oranges appearing before his eyes. 

“But– your other arm?” Eddie chokes out, eyes flickering between his own wrist, Steve’s forearm, and Steve’s other, fuller arm. 

“Philia. That’s Robin. But this one, this is eros.” Steve smiles again, matching the one Eddie can feel spreading across his own face as he looks up from his forearm. “I’m Steve.”

Steve smiles again, matching the one Eddie can feel spreading across his own face as he looks up from his forearm. Eddie looks in wonderment, searching for any sign of lie or trickery in Steve’s eyes and finds nothing but warmth and familiarity. 

“I’m Eddie.”

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 23

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | AO3

-----

They're on the front page for about a week.

They run the stories of Hopper and Henry Creel simultaneously - honestly, Eddie kind of thinks the fact that Hopper was presumed dead and is now back makes it easier for people to believe a previously assumed dead guy is the top suspect for the murders.

Eddie gets barely a mention clearing him of all charges. There's a couple of articles about him and Steve fighting off Henry Creel, but the focus is more on Steve than anything else.

Steve bitches about it, about how they did the same thing after Starcourt, but Eddie's kind of glad his name isn't plastered all over the place anymore.

He and Steve are down in the kitchen scrounging up celebratory snacks and beers - Steve has a clean bill of health, and Eddie's stitches are coming out in a few days - when the phone rings.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking," he greets.

Eddie barely has time to decide he's absolutely going to tease him about that later when the response comes - loud enough for him to hear it.

"Steven, my boy!" the voice booms, spirited and affable.

Steve closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Hi, Dad."

"We just heard the news!" Steve's father says. "Why didn't you call to tell us? Did the earthquake damage anything?"

Part of Eddie thinks he should leave. Or at least back away, so he can't hear everything that's being said - but the other part of him thinks that Steve'd push him away if he didn't want him here, and with how tense Steve's gone next to him, Eddie can't bring himself to pull away.

"The house is fine," Steve says. "Loch Nora didn't get hit at all."

"Good, good," Mr. Harrington says. "Your mother hears you and Rachel have been volunteering with the relief efforts?"

Eddie didn't think it was possible, but Steve goes even stiffer.

"Robin," he corrects, his tone smooth and entirely void of inflection. "Yes, we've been coordinating donations."

"That's what I want to hear!" There's a sound like a loud clap. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. You had a lot of ground to make up for, but it seems giving you a dose of reality has paid off. We'll be able to have some real talks about your future soon. What? Oh, your mother wants to talk to you."

There's a shuffling noise, then a quieter and much less friendly voice greets, "Steven."

"Hey Mom," Steve's posture relaxes a little. "I told Dad we made it out okay."

There's some kind of response, but Steve's mom is too quiet for Eddie to make it out.

"No, of course I didn't file charges. I knew you'd want to handle it if anything else happened." A pause. "Yes, that Carver. Mom, it's not - yeah. Yeah, okay. No, it's just him. I think he's just mad that people listened to me and not him. Yeah, I - all right. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, leaning in with one arm braced against the wall, a long line of tension.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

Steve turns to face him, giving a little crooked smile. "You can ask if you want. I don't mind you and Robin knowing. It's… easier sometimes, if she expects it, and it's probably the same with you."

Eddie aches a little. "What was your dad talking about? What ground to make up for?"

Steve makes a face. "I did a lot of damage to the Harrington image the last bit of high school, you know. Stopped caring about my reputation, didn't get accepted into any of the colleges they wanted me to go to, kept getting into fights."

"But that wasn't - did they even ask you what actually happened?" Eddie asks.

"They don't care what actually happened," Steve replies. "Just what it looked like. Like I said, it's all about appearances with them. My dad's the main reason I worked at Scoops instead of being a lifeguard again last summer - he says it's because I needed a real life experience, learn what it means to work at the bottom, but he was just pissy and trying to humiliate me. He talks a big game about working hard, but all he really cares about is how I make them look. Now that I've gotten good press twice, he's happy again."

Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."

Steve shrugs. "I looked fine in the papers."

Right.

Appearances.

"Will you be mad at me if I punch your dad if I ever see him?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, a surprised little sound like he's startled by it. "No," he says. "But only if I get to punch yours for leaving you."

Oh.

If Eddie was thinking about it, he'd have moved slowly, making sure to telegraph what he was doing so he didn't startle Steve, but he reacts on instinct and pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve doesn't even flinch at the sudden motion. He just melts into it, letting Eddie wrap him up and hold him tightly. His arms come up to cross over Eddie's shoulder blades, the placement automatically mindful of his injuries in the way only someone who's bandaged them multiple times could be.

"Sometimes I wish they just wouldn't call at all," Steve admits, face buried in Eddie's neck. It comes out in a rush, like he hadn't really thought about it before he said it, but he's getting it out anyway. "That they'd just cut me out of their life, instead of stringing me along."

"Fuck them," Eddie says. "I've got you."

He can hear Steve swallow, and Steve hugs him tighter.

They stay like that for a long while, until Eddie finally pulls back.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'll get the food and stuff. Go upstairs and see Robin."

Steve looks uncertain. "You sure?"

Eddie hugs him one more time. "You've got two soulmates," he murmurs. "Let us take care of you a little, okay?"

Steve squeezes him tight, then lets go with a nod before heading upstairs.

Eddie dithers in the kitchen for a bit, taking an extra long time. Whatever his complicated feelings are, it doesn't bother him at all to give Steve and Robin some space like this.

They're talking when he comes back, which isn't a surprise, and he hears his own name as he gets closer to the bedroom. Eddie pauses, even though he shouldn't, listening through the cracked door. He'll feel worse about it later, probably, but right now the masochistic side of him can't resist the urge to know what they're saying about him.

"I want him so much, Robs," he hears Steve saying, low and soft like he's trying to be quiet.

"I know," Robin replies, her tone somehow managing to be both gentle and snarky at the same time. "It's kind of pathetic."

Steve lets out a muffled groan. "Not helping. I don't exactly have the greatest track record at being able to get over people! I thought, with my soulmate-"

He cuts off, and Eddie can't help the bubbling anger that springs up. Steve thought? Has he stopped for one second to think about how Eddie might feel, only ever having a platonic soulmate? Wanting him just as bad and not being able to have him, not being able to have anyone?

"-someone else?" Robin is saying, like she's reading his thoughts, and Eddie has to hold his breath as he makes sure he hadn't accidentally said that outloud.

"I don't want anyone else," Steve says miserably. "Just him. I think - I think it's always going to be him. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?"

There's a heavy, thick silence, and Eddie's anger simmers and crackles under his skin, the way it always does when there's a hefty mixing of guilt in it.

"Do you think-" Robin starts, then stops. "Do you wish-" She stops again, voice thick with emotion. "Would it be easier if we-"

"No," Steve says, cutting her off at the same time that Eddie realizes what she's probably trying to bring herself to ask.

There's the muffled sound of shuffling, quiet hitching breaths - probably the motions of Steve trying to reassure one of his soulmates that he wants her, and he imagines him gathering her close, pressing soft kisses anywhere he can reach, cutting off anything she tries to say with a deeper, fiercer kiss.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper to keep himself from making some kind of sound to give himself away. He hates that he doesn't know what he's feeling - hates that he thinks he's jealous of Robin just as much as he doesn't feel jealous of her, not really. He's jealous of the images he conjures when he thinks about them together, but he's never actually jealous when he's with them, when he watches them.

That reminder makes him shift, peeking through the cracked door so he can see them. They're sitting facing each other, legs all tangled together. One of Steve's hands is covering Robin's heart, and the other is curled around one of Robin's hands, pinning it to his chest over his own heart, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Something in Eddie settles in a way he can't explain, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

"There's no me without you," Steve is saying. "You're a part of me, Robs, I can't do this without either of you."

She says something too muffled for Eddie to make out.

"I'm happy. I really am, I promise. I love you, I love us, exactly the way we are. And with Eddie-"

Eddie leans forward, too desperate to know what he's going to say to worry about being caught.

"I don't need anything else other than just him. However I can have him. If it's never romantic, if this is us forever - it doesn't matter, not really. I just need you and him, and the kids, and I'm good."

There's silence, the two of them just completely wrapped up in each other, and fuck, Eddie - he thinks you know what, if this is it, if what he has is Steve and Robin and the kids forever, then he's good, too.

"I love you, Robin Buckley," Steve says. "In a way I never realized was possible, until you and that dumb kid showed up in my life and taught me that you don't have to do anything to earn someone's love. That sometimes, it's just unconditional."

Steve was sixteen when he fought his first demogorgon, Eddie remembers that. Which means he couldn't have been any younger than that when he started really spending any time with Dustin or Robin, which means - the same thing that Eddie went through when he first moved in with Uncle Wayne, the thing that was so impossible for him to believe at twelve, Steve wasn't shown until he was probably seventeen.

Fuck, his heart aches.

"Does Henderson know he was your first true love?" Robin asks, her voice a little wet, but obviously trying to make things a little lighter.

Steve laughs, the sound just a bit thick. "No, and he'd be insufferable if I told him."

There's the faint sting of a new lie being written on the back of his calf, and the second he registers it, he hears Robin's startled laughter. Eddie pulls back from the door, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to get himself back under control.

"Oh my God, Steve, you did tell him! When?"

He can hear Steve sputtering and deflecting, the sound of Robin smacking him and Steve scrambling - probably trying to avoid them - and if there was ever going to be a good time to announce his return after shamelessly listening in for too long, now is probably it.

Eddie pushes open the door, six pack under one arm and bags of popcorn and chips under the other as he shoots a hopefully only slightly manic grin at them. "What's Steve lying about now?"

"Nothing!" Steve says too quickly.

Sloppy, for him, considering Eddie knows how good Steve usually is at using sarcasm or half truths to avoid telling lies, so Eddie tosses the bag of popcorn at him.

He catches it easily, of course, but it means he's now vulnerable to Robin's attacks, and he has to swerve to avoid another slap to his shoulder.

"Steve's trying to pretend like we both didn't get that lie, too," Robin says.

Steve groans. "Fine, Jesus. It was back when we were waiting at the camper, and Dustin was upset. I told him that he was the first person who was ever just - there, in my life because he wanted to be, even after he didn't need me to fight demodogs. No one could ever replace him."

"You're such a sap, Steve," Eddie teases him as he comes to sit next to him and Robin.

"Shut up," Steve grumbles. "That's it, I'm picking the movie."

—

The next day, Lucas and Max swing by. Steve hauls a basketball stand out of the garage and sets it up in the driveway, and Eddie sits at the kitchen table, eating a bologna sandwich while he watches them play.

It's safer inside, where there's no one to see if he gets affected by Steve's tank top and shorts.

Or at least, he thought it was safer inside.

"Do you love Steve?" Max asks, plopping down beside him.

Eddie chokes on his Coke, and she stares at him unsympathetically until he manages to breathe again.

"He's my soulmate, so." Eddie shrugs.

Max gives him an unimpressed look, and yeah, okay, he figures they both know soulmates aren't a guarantee of anything. Eddie's parents were soulmates, after all, loved each other more than anything else in this world, and that still hadn't been enough.

"I wanted him to be my soulmate before I knew it was him," he admits, because that's a more true answer without actually having to say yes or no. "Nothing's happened since to change that."

She gets this look on her face like she's trying to decide if that's an acceptable response. After a moment, she rests her chin on her knees, staring out the window, and Eddie figures he's in the clear.

"Steve has two soulmates," she says after a while. "You don't. Doesn't that make you feel - I don't know, like you aren't enough?"

"Jesus Christ, Red, you're not pulling any punches today, are you?" Eddie swears.

He doesn't actually want to have this conversation. It's not something he's completely sorted out on his own, yet, even though he's done a lot of thinking on it, and he's tempted to tell her to mind her own business.

But she won't look at him, and he knows why she's asking. She's not talking about him and Steve and Robin, not really.

He thinks about telling her something standard about soulmates, or maybe even the advice that his uncle gave him, but it doesn't feel right.

"It's not what I always imagined," Eddie admits slowly.

Max doesn't say anything, but he watches the way she starts to unwind a little, how she doesn't hold herself so stiff, tilts a little to actually listen to what he's saying.

"You know Steve and I talked to each other when we were younger. We thought the same way about a lot of stuff, and I had this idea in my head that he was some little outcast like me, in another small town somewhere out there, that we'd move to a big city and find each other. But then we stopped talking."

"How come?" Max asks, looking caught up despite herself.

Eddie grins at her, wide and self depreciating. "I found out he was probably some rich, popular jerk, and decided I hated him."

And there's that unimpressed look again.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie grumbles. "Let's just say there might be some truth to not talking with your soulmate before you actually meet them. Point is, for almost five years, I hated my soulmate. Thought the best I could hope for was that we'd meet when we were thirty and ancient, and maybe then he would have changed. Then a little while ago, I met Steve."

Max's brows furrow. "You met Steve way before that."

"Nah," he says. "I knew of Steve. I had a lot of assumptions about him, knew what I thought he was, but I didn't know the real Steve. That Steve I met when he helped explain all of this to me and didn't make me feel stupid for not picking up some of it right away, even after I held a broken bottle to his throat."

She snorts, but looks like she's considering that. "I met him when he was putting himself between me, Lucas, and Dustin and a hoard of demodogs, a couple of hours after calling them dickheads and me some random girl."

Eddie salutes her with his can of Coke, half in understanding and half to cover the way his heart wants to melt again. "That Steve was nothing like I imagined my soulmate to be, when I was daydreaming about him or hating him. But I knew I didn't want anyone else, and Steve having another soulmate doesn't change that. I don't think it makes what he feels for me any less than what I feel for him, and I don't think it means I'm less important to him than he is to me."

Max frowns. "Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really," Eddie says, though he hadn't actually been sure it was true until he heard himself say it. "I'm not saying it's not hard sometimes. And sometimes I get in my head about it. But I wouldn't change it. Steve wouldn't be the same without Robin, you know? He wouldn't be the Steve that made me want him to be my soulmate so bad."

There's a long moment of silence. Then, "Would you be saying that if both of his soulmates were romantic?"

Eddie's glad he stopped drinking, because he knows he would have choked again. For a split second, she wonders if she's picked up on - but no, that still isn't what this about. "Are both of yours romantic?"

Her jaw juts forward, arms hugging tighter around her knees. "What if they were?"

Fuck, he doesn't know what to say to that. "It's okay to like both guys and girls," he says, because he feels like that's the most important bit. "I do. I mean, mostly guys, but sometimes girls."

Her grip loosens a little, but she still doesn't say anything.

"It sounds like maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he says carefully.

She scowls. "I talked to Steve already."

Right, of course she did.

"What did Steve say?"

"Steve said he thinks the line between platonic and romantic soulmates isn't as straightforward as people like to pretend it is. That sometimes what you might think should be romantic is actually platonic, and sometimes what you think should be platonic is romantic, and sometimes there's going to be things that blur the lines and you don't really know which one it is. He said it was okay to have two platonic or two romantic or one of each or, like, any combination." She makes a face here, like she's not entirely sure what he meant by any combination - or like she was sure, and didn't need that much detail. "That as long as everyone was communicating, it was okay to do whatever worked for us."

Eddie swallows. "Steve sounds pretty smart."

Max rolls her eyes. "He has his moments."

"So… are you communicating with Lucas and El?" he asks.

She picks at a rip in her jeans. "I talked to Lucas."

He waits, but it seems like that's all he's going to get. He starts to ask what Lucas said, but… he gets the feeling that it's not necessarily about what he said or not.

"But it's Lucas," Eddie says. "And you wanted to hear how someone else in a familiar situation felt."

Eddie gets that familiar, itchy feeling that he does when he wants to run, and he only barely resists the urge to bounce his leg up and down. It's not that he wants to run from Max, or even from this conversation, it's just - it's starting to make him think about things, and he really, really doesn't want an audience for this. He wants to lock himself in a room and pace, listen to some music, maybe scribble out his thoughts, something to get his hands moving and his brain in some kind of order -

"Even if Steve wanted both of us romantically," he says, knowing it's close enough that it's not a lie. "I would still rather be his soulmate than anyone else."

Max looks at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "I'm gonna ask Steve if you lied about that."

Eddie fixes her with an unimpressed look right back. "You think I'd do that to him?"

"You better not." There's an edge of menace in her tone, but she lets it go, so Eddie figures she doesn't really think he'd lie about something like that knowing it would be etched on Steve's skin forever.

Silence stretches between them, and Eddie follows her gaze out the window, watching Steve and Lucas playing basketball.

"I've put him through so much already," Max says, so quietly that he can barely hear it.

Fuck, Eddie is so fucking soft for these kids.

"You have not," Eddie says immediately. "You haven't done a goddamn thing, Red. Both of you have already been through so much, and it's not because of something either of you did. It's fucking Hawkins."

She doesn't look convinced, so Eddie pushes his shoulder against hers.

"Lucas is smart. He's more emotionally intelligent than I am-" Max snorts at him, and he's reasonably sure he hears her mutter something along the lines of like that's hard, but he ignores her. "He knows what he can take and what he can't. All you have to do is believe him when he tells you it."

She's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she asks, "Does that work for you?"

Right, yeah, okay, he deserved that one. He thinks about deflecting, but -

"I'm trying," he admits quietly. "What do you think, huh, you gonna let me beat you there or are we gonna do this together?"

Max glances out the window again, then turns to look back at him, her chin jutting out. "Steve loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often. I don't think he really believes that we love him as much as he loves us, even though we do."

She says it like a threat, like she's saying if you tell him I said that I will kill you or maybe if you hurt him I will kill you. Either way, he'd be dead.

"I'll talk to Lucas and El, and you make sure you don't disappoint him."

Goddamn if that doesn't stab right to the heart of him, lodging itself beneath his ribcage and sticking right into the parts that'd already made him want to run from this conversation.

"Okay," he manages to get out, because he's not sure he'll survive any other answer.

Max nods. "Good talk," she tells him, and then she pushes herself up and she's gone.

Eddie stays there, mulling all of that over. He doesn't think she'd actually tell Steve anything they just talked about, nor does he think she really has any idea that Steve had asked him to make their bond romantic and he'd turned him down. Honestly, Eddie could probably get away with patting himself on the back for actually managing to give some decent advice and be the person she'd needed him to be for just a little while, then go on being a very devoted platonic soulmate for Steve.

Except even if Max doesn't really know, Eddie does. And now Eddie's thinking about things he doesn't want to, and wondering how much of a hypocrite some of the advice that he gave her makes him, and -

"Hey," Lucas says, and Eddie yelps.

Lucas raises his eyebrows at him.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that," Eddie bitches.

There's a little smirk, but fortunately, Lucas doesn't actually comment on it. "You talk to Max?" he asks instead.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, narrowing his eyes at him.

Lucas lights up, though, his whole face practically beaming with his smile. "Good. I figured it'd help her to hear that your soulmate cares about you no matter what from someone who wasn't me."

Eddie raises one eyebrow. "How do you know that's what I said?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Because you're Steve's soulmate. If that wasn't the way you felt, Robin would know, and she'd have already murdered you."

Eddie considers that. "Okay, fair."

Lucas makes his way over to the fridge, yanking it open and standing in front of it as he peers in. "So what did you tell her?"

Eddie sits back, waiting until Lucas turns to look back at him so he can shoot him a wide, smug grin. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you."

He gets a glare in return, but Lucas doesn't protest that, just leans back in to grab a pair of Gatorades from the fridge. He twists the top off of one, taking a long swallow before he shuts the door and starts back out of the kitchen, giving him a little nod as he passes.

"Hey, Lucas?" Eddie calls before he can leave.

Lucas pauses, looking quizzically at him.

"I'm guessing you talk to Steve like Max does, about all this." Eddie makes an exaggerated gesture between them and out the kitchen window, meant to loop all of them in together. "But, uh. You know. If you ever want a different perspective, from someone in kind of your position."

He motions to himself, then splays his hands out all ta-da.

Lucas hesitates, lingering in the middle of the kitchen before he seems to make a decision.

"I was kind of upset about it when I first found out Max's other soulmate was El," he admits. "It was right after Billy died, and their soulmate bond was new, and Max kept letting El in while she was shutting me out. And I was angry, and jealous, and then when El had to leave and Max kept pushing me away, I just kept thinking that if El was here Max wouldn't be by herself so much, that the wrong soulmate got to stay in Hawkins."

Lucas pauses, twisting the Gatorades in his hand, but Eddie gets the feeling it's a gathering his thoughts pause more than a waiting for Eddie to say something pause.

"Eventually I realized that El could help Max in a way that I couldn't, and that maybe that was the point. I started calling El a little, too, when the phone wasn't busy, and just - El was grieving, too. I didn't want to feel jealous over something that helped them both anymore. It's been good with El back, really good. I don't know if I like El like that, but if Max does-" he shrugs. "I guess I kind of already got over the jealousy bit. It doesn't really matter to me if they kiss while they're having sleepovers or not, as long as they don't exclude me."

Now it seems like a waiting for Eddie to say something pause, so he gives a soft little hum. "What do you do if you end up feeling excluded?"

Lucas blinks, like he wasn't expecting that question. "Uh. Well, before, I talked to my parents and sometimes to Steve or Robin or Dustin. It's hard talking to Mike or Will about it because they're not all that objective about El stuff. I don't… really know if I want to tell my parents about Max and El like that yet, so I guess… talk to Steve or Robin or Dustin." He pauses, then, more tentatively, "Or you?"

Fuck, these kids keep getting to him. "Or me," he agrees easily. "But you should probably also add talk to Max and El to that list."

Lucas makes a face, but doesn't disagree. "I don't think a lot of the others know about Max," he says instead. "Just me and Steve and Robin, and now you."

There's an edge to his voice, like he's pretty sure Eddie must be safe if Max told him, but he's ready to fight him about it anyway.

"Max knows about me, now, so we're even," Eddie replies, pleased that the effort he puts into making sure his voice sounds steady pays off.

"Yeah?" Lucas asks. "Who else knows?"

"Steve and Robin. And now Max and you," Eddie replies.

Lucas lights up a little. "Cool."

"Cool," Eddie echoes, even though he feels a little shaky from the fact that he's now said it twice today, which is double the amount of times he's ever said it before at all.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment.

"It's complicated, being in our position," Eddie says after a bit. "I think it's always going to be complicated. But if we let it - I think it could be really great, too. Most people only end up in pairs, but us? We get a whole damn party of interconnected soulmates."

"A party of soulmates," Lucas says thoughtfully, then grins. "Yeah, I like that."

"You're a good kid, Lucas," Eddie tells him, not sure if he really needs to hear it, but he still remembers the way it made him feel when Uncle Wayne said it.

Lucas ducks his head, looking a little pleased, even though he follows it up with a sidelong look. "Even though I'm kind of a jock?"

Eddie shrugs. "My soulmate is a whole jock. I guess that means I've got a little jock in me, too."

Lucas's expression shifts, turning mischievous, and suddenly he looks like the fifteen year old boy he is, and not a world-weary adult. It's nice, it's wonderful, Eddie loves to see it, except it makes him realize what he just said far, far too late to do anything about it.

In his defense, they were having a serious discussion, and -

Yeah, he's got nothing.

Maybe it'll be fine? Lucas is probably the most mature out of all of the boys, maybe -

"I don't know, man," Lucas says, slowly, like he's actually considering that. "We've all heard the rumors about Steve. I don't think it's something little you're gonna be dealing with."

Eddie gapes at him.

"I said you were mature," he bemoans, flinging his upper body over the top of the kitchen table just to make Lucas laugh harder. "I told Max you were emotionally intelligent! Begone from my sight!"

Lucas takes his Gatorades and leaves, still laughing at him.

—

"Max cornered me in the kitchen to threaten me today," Eddie says.

Steve snorts. "Of course she did. What about?"

Eddie shrugs, waiting for Steve to look at him so he can waggle his eyebrows at him. "She also threatened to kill me if I told you."

Steve shoves him, and Eddie falls back dramatically, sprawling out on the couch. He props himself up on his elbows to look at Steve, but he doesn't seem inclined to actually push him to reveal what he and Max talked about. Instead, Steve goes about shutting down for the night, checking to make sure all the windows and the sliding glass door are locked.

"Soulmate stuff," Eddie says. Or more like blurts out, before he can change his mind, to force himself to have to keep going. "She told me what you said about the line between platonic and romantic soulmates. Made me think about some things."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, stopping by the couch to look at him.

"Do you still want me, Steve?" Eddie asks, his heart in his throat.

He isn't prepared for Steve to shut down, for the way his face goes cold and hard and blank.

"Not cool, Eddie," Steve says, turning away and going back to the windows in the living room.

Eddie pushes himself up off the couch, then immediately doubts himself and sits back down. "Steve, what?"

Steve won't look at him, and he can hear the window locks rattling with the force that Steve's using to check them. "You're being a dick, man, come on. You can't ask me stuff like that."

"I-" he starts, then stops, his mind scrambling a little. Is he too late? Did Steve move on already, even though he told Robin that he wasn't going to? Is Eddie so easy to get over that even his fucking soulmate couldn't keep him? "What happened to it's always going to be him, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, incredulous, and Eddie kind of wants to cry a little because he knows that Steve has started saying that more because of all the time they've spent together. "You were listening to me and Robin? What the fuck, man, you still think it's fair to throw that at me?"

"Fuck you, Steve, I know it wasn't a lie when you said that. Am I so fucking easy to just stop wanting, or are you that fucking fickle?"

"Eddie, goddamn, is this - were you testing me? Is this you lashing out at me again? Because I can't, okay, not about this, I can't-" he cuts off, one hand scrubbing over his face. "I told you, I can't."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Steve, no, I wasn't teasing, I - it was a real question."

Steve stills, pausing right by a window. The light of the moon catches on him, highlighting parts of him in pale silver while the rest of him is warmed from the soft yellow of the living room lamp. "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve. I just picked a fight with you instead of asking what you meant, and you're surprised I'm not sure you still want me anymore?"

Eddie can hear Steve breathing out, then in, then back out again, watches as he lets some of the tension bleed out of his body. "I think I picked some of that fight right back. I'm sorry, I just - all right, let's go back, and I'll listen without making assumptions, okay?"

Yeah, okay, Eddie can do that.

"Max told me what you said," Eddie starts again. "And it made me think about how smart you are." He wishes Steve were closer, so he could see his face better, at the same time as he wishes he couldn't see it at all. "How brave you are. How when you know what you want, you go for it, how you fight to keep it, how you own up when you make a mistake, how you work so hard to make all this work."

This is Eddie trying to be brave, he thinks. Trying to go for what he wants, to accept that they're going to have to work at this, that he's probably going to get hurt, that he has to trust that Steve will be willing to work past whatever it is that springs up.

It takes him a little too long, though, because after a few moments, Steve gently prompts, "Eddie?"

"Do you still want me?" he asks again. He didn't mean to, but it comes out anyway, all small and tentative.

"Eds," Steve breathes out. "I'm always going to want you."

He loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often, Max had said, and Eddie swallows down the urge to ask him if he means it, if he'll still mean it the next time Eddie picks a fight, or every time he's an ass.

"I'm always going to want you, too," Eddie says.

Steve's hands twitch, and he looks like he's waiting for something - for a lie to show up on his skin, Eddie realizes, and Eddie knows he's going to have to do better than that.

"I want you," he says again. "Steve, I want you. I'll take you any way I can get you, but I just - this is stupid, I'm stupid. I'm making us both miserable because I was scared."

He's not surprised that's what gets Steve moving, and he comes over to sit by him on the couch.

"You're not stupid," Steve replies. "Not for being scared."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, but I am for giving into it. So I might get hurt, so what? I'm already hurting, wanting you so bad and not getting to have you, knowing you'd probably let me kiss you and not letting myself go for it."

Steve's looking at him, eyes all sharp and intense, like he's really listening to Eddie's every word, and hell if it doesn't make him feel just a little bit drunk on it.

"Talking with Max made me realize that I trust you. I trust you, with my life, with - fucking everything. I trust you to work through this with me, to figure out what works for us."

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" he asks after a moment. "You really - you want to do this?"

"So fucking much," Eddie says.

Steve's whole face lights up in a smile, and he leans in, one hand resting on Eddie's knee. "That mean I can kiss you now?"

Eddie barely manages to get out a please before Steve's other hand is sliding over his jaw, slipping back to push his fingers into his hair and cup the side of his face. Steve holds him there as he kisses him, and it's-

It's not Eddie's first kiss. But it's his first kiss that's ever really meant anything, and the soft brush of Steve's lips against his makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Steve gives a little hum, low in his throat, and then he's tilting his head to get a better angle, and holy shit.

Eddie pushes forward eagerly, deepening the kiss until they're both panting for breath, and even then they don't pull away. Their foreheads press together, lips parted and just barely touching as they share the same air. His eyes have closed at some point, but now he opens them to find Steve looking back at him, and Eddie smiles.

"How long do you think until Robin notices we haven't come up?" he asks.

"I'm okay with figuring that out," Steve replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them to kiss him again.

I've got a pretty good handle on the outline for the rest of this now, so I'd say we've got about four more parts left!

-----

Part 24

Tag list (always happy to add more): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

'robin knows the most queer stuff bc she's queer' this and 'steve knows the most queer stuff bc he has gaydar' that what about VICKIE? give me confident bi vickie who figured it out years ago and has a collection of zines and learned all about queer history and spent a summer in Indy just standing there all -_- while stobin's collective braincell bounces around like the DVD screensaver trying to hit the corner as they try and decypher bisexuality

[dreamsteddie]

I'm sick, I'm languishing, I'm wearing a blanket in 70 degree heat, and I've been watching The Price is Right on loop since 10 AM.

Anyway, related to my previous posts (here and here), Eddie goes on tour for a couple of months and while he's away, Robin and Steve take a cross-country road trip on a whim to try and be on the Price is Right together.

She's glad Eddie was a good partner and took Steve to be on his favorite show, but she's a little offended they didn't bring her with them. She is mostly appeased by Eddie's continuous and vehement denial that Steve was talking about her and not him when Bob asked him about having a special girl back home. No mater how many times she brings it up, he always gets all red in the face and gives some long winded speech about love and being queer in public and coded speech. It's always hilarious.

Anyway, they get bored one day, and Steve has no qualms about using his and Eddie's joint account, even if it's mostly Eddie's money these days, while Steve does charity and volunteer work. So, when Robin asks Steve if he wants to go to California with her and try to get on again, he kind of just shrugs and goes to grab his shoes.

They drive for two days to get there, singing along to their music, eating too much junk food and not drinking enough water. Robin even forces Steve to listen to one of her book cassettes for "enrichment."

When they get to LA they grab a room at a semi-decent hotel (they could afford something luxury but they are so deep in Roadtrip Mode they don't even think about it). Robin lets Steve try on a million outfits that all look the same and makes up critiques and compliments for each of them because she knows her best friend and knows he won't leave until he feels like he's made the 'right' outfit choice. Steve, who still never fully let the outfit thing from last time go, will add this onto his once-yearly rant to Eddie. The man in question will find this equal parts endearing and aggravating.

They wait in line for two hours with the rest of the hopefuls, partake in interviews with PAs out on the street, and get ushered in. With their dynamic and good looks, they were never not going to get in.

It's the mid-90s, but everything is mostly the same as when Steve and Eddie went together in 89'. Some of the curtains are different and some of the small decals have been removed or changed and Steve delights in pointing off each and every minute change to Robin who finds it fascinating. She likes to pose outlandish hypotheticals for why they had to change it. Apparently, the last set of curtains got eaten by a pack of alpacas that broke in after hours. Who knew?

They watch and cheer and give standing ovations and it seems like the show is going to end without either of them being called up. Neither of them are too put out by it, chances are always low that they call your name, but then they go to call up the last contestant and the name is Robin Buckley. It takes a second for them to register what they heard, and the camera pans just in time to see them holding hands and jumping around like children. Robin steps on several pairs of shoes on her way to contestant's row

Bob catches it and ribs her a little about the number of toes she just broke and how she might need to win to pay off some medical bills. She laughs, extremely awkwardly, and they get to bidding. It's a pair of bicycles which she actually loves since her Women's History course last year had a lesson on how the widespread accessibility of the bicycle in Europe and the United States was seen as a "dangerous" gateway into women's liberation and a potential cause for lesbianism due to the shape and placement of the seat.

Steve knows she's been looking for a good bike, and has been given many a second-hand lesson about Women's History from his best friend, cheers extra loud in the audience. They both know she's got this.

Robin guesses the exact right number on the first try and wins that extra hundred. She kind of hates reaching into Bob's pocket to get it, but a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars. She plays Danger Price and wins all four prizes (a secretary, a stereo system, a barbeque, and a fancy-looking clock). She is so extremely smug about the whole thing.

When it's time to spin the wheel, she get's a dollar across two spins and gets the 1,000 dollars, which Steve absolutely loses his head about. The camera pans to him on his feet, clapping and screaming her name. Unfortunately, another contestant does the same and loses in the spin off. Steve is in no way put off by Robin not being in the showcase because he's too busy going on about statistics and average winnings like this is an actual sport.

At the end of the day they pack away all their stuff into the back of Robin's old station wagon, check out of their hotel, and spend a couple of nights in San Francisco before heading back home. It's a miracle no one breaks into their car.

Eddie comes back home about a month later, and Steve just...never mentions it. For how much he loves The Price is Right, he never says a word about their little trip until a week after his return when the episode airs. At first, Eddie doesn't even notice because the camera pans over everyone so quickly. It's not until Steve runs to grab their now cordless phone, an unheard of act for Steve who takes this time of day very seriously, that he even clues in on anything being different.

It's only when he hears Steve talking into the receiver to Robin about "our episode being on" that he cottons on completely to what exactly is happening. The camera snatches a close up of the two of them whispering to each other and clapping when they come back from commercial break.

He nudges Steve with his toe the entire episode just to bother him for not telling him about an entire multi-day trip, but he knows trying to tear his boyfriend away from both The Price is Right and Robin is a lost cause and resigns himself to waiting until the episode ends before they talk about it.

It turns out Steve did call Eddie the night they got back from filming to tell Eddie all about it. Unfortunately, it was one of those nights where Eddie is both in a different time zone and deeply asleep after a performance and he answers the phone half awake and doesn't remember it in the morning, having hummed and agreed in the right places on instinct and only remembers the call as a hazy dream the next morning.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

perfectly un-ordinary

words: 4,979

ao3

Nancy’s soulmark is perfectly ordinary.

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

The handwriting is Steve Harrington’s.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” she lies, and he lets her.

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

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

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

“You started it,” she scoffs.

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

She grins. “Did too.”

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

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

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

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

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

It isn’t because of Birdie.

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

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

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

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

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

Which is not-so-technically a felony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And they do.

Kill Henry Creel, that is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy just shrugs.

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

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

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

Neither Robin nor Steve make any move to show theirs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” Steve murmurs.

Nancy nods.

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

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

It makes Nancy’s face go hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie,” Nancy says, “slow down.”

Eddie unbuckles his pants. Nancy whirls her head away.

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

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

“Your soulmate is Steve,” she realizes.

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

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

Birdie.

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

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

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

Robin. A robin on a branch.

Birdie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re everything,” Robin tells her.

It’s too much.

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

Robin’s breath hitches. “Nancy—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad it’s you,” she murmurs.

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

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

[shieldofiron]

Come on, girls, get it together.

[gloomysoup]

okay yes i know i have 800 wips i should be working on rn... HOWEVER i've had another plot bunny pop up and i'm subjecting all of you to it

so hear me out:

steve has an older half-sister from his mom's previous marriage (maybe divorced, maybe widowed, who cares not important rn). she's not that much older than him, but she left home for college and never looked back. she occasionally calls to check up on steve, especially around the time the upside down happens bc of everything in the news. they were never super close as kids, but they cared ab each other. she was the first person he called after starcourt, and she was also the first person (besides robin of course) that he came out to. she's always supported him no matter what.

they don't talk ab her very often tho. conversation usually stays on steve and how he's doing, how his friends are, what his life is like. he doesn't know much ab her life at the time, just that by the time fall of 1986 hits, she's graduated college and starting a career (what, i don't know. maybe teacher or literary publicist? something steve's dad wouldn't approve of)

and then things change. steve gets a call from his sister, and she asks if he can come visit for a while here in the next month or so. he asks questions. it takes her a bit to answer. finally, she rips off the bandage. she's pregnant. she doesn't think she's ready for a baby, but she still wants to be in their life. she knows steve loves kids, that he's always wanted to be a dad. she asks if he'll come up for the birth, and adopt her baby. she wants him to raise the kid, but she doesn't try to pressure him. she knows it's a big ask. she just wanted to offer. she says she'd feel better knowing they're in a good place, that they're loved. she knows he would be perfect.

steve is obviously shocked, and rightfully so. it came out of nowhere really. he hadn't known this whole time. he isn't sure what to say. his sister tells him to think on it. there's still a little bit of time before the due date. he agrees to at least come visit and be with her for the birth. he doesn't promise anything more than that. he isn't sure what he's going to do yet, just that he wants to be there to support her.

he talks to robin that night, sitting on the living room floor of the small house they rent. it isn't much, but it's home. he tells her everything his sister said. robin stays quiet the whole time. when he finishes, all she asks is, "what do you want to do?" steve doesn't know. he isn't sure he'd be ready to raise a child on his own. so robin offers to help.

they decide to coparent. they're both there when steve's niece is brought into the world, and they don't hesitate for even a second when signing the adoption papers and birth certificate. everyone lives happily ever after.

this is fully centered on platonic stobin, with maybe a dash of background steddie and buckingham bc i make my own rules. would potentially end up being a big blended family all living in one house and coparenting all of their children (yes more kids) together and everything works out.

[kkpwnall]

driving in your car | chapter five | (explicit | 65k | wip)

It’s been a week since they defeated Vecna, and things are starting to get back to normal. Or as normal as they’ve ever been in a town built over multiple gates to inter-dimensional hell. They came back from hell and had to go back to school and work and life like nothing happened. Driving around has become a thing for the four of them, and they explore Hawkins in ways few others have. Finding backroads, cruising down country lanes. Seeing just how far they can go. Eventually Steve clocked Eddie’s whole deal as flirting, but it took an embarrassingly long time. And it is flirting, right? It’s got to be flirting, there’s no other word for it. Recent dry spell notwithstanding, Steve Harrington’s got game. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s flirting. So Steve knows it’s flirting, but he doesn’t know if it’s flirting. Because Eddie is straight, right?

peep that rating change, babes, things are gettin' spicy

so so much thanks to the absolutely delightful @judasofsuburbia for beta reading, @figthefruitfaeth for helping me pick out the perfect shirt, and @cheatghost for their unending support

teaser below the fold [full chapter on ao3]

The day stretches on, and between Robin’s foreign art house films and having to deal with John Q Public all day long, that weird, warm, welcome lightness in his chest starts to fade and he’s left with this clawing, gnawing, hungry ache. 

Because it turns out, Eddie Munson sleeps on his side, curled into a tight little question mark. And what is Steve supposed to do with that knowledge now? Or the knowledge that at some point in the night, his body curved itself protectively around Eddie’s. Or was it because of the surprising amount of heat radiating off Eddie while he slept? Steve couldn’t help but gravitate to him, his chest to Eddie’s back, his knees fitting right behind Eddie’s. All while he finally had a blissful, dreamless sleep.

What is he supposed to do now he knows what Eddie looks like when he first wakes up in the morning? When he rolls over with his head on Steve’s arm like a pillow. A shy, slow, sleepy smile rising across his face like the sun.

Until the alarm on Steve’s watch went off, startling them apart, and out of bed, and across town.

[voodoo-tofu]

Me and @cherry-cola-ghost made matching platonic stobin avatars with this picrew from Luneva!