#because he wouldn't betray eddie like that

[hawkinsbnbg]

Every king had their throne. And Steve’s own was Eddie Munson’s lap.

If the position also allowed him to induce mischief in the campaigns, then the Hellfire’s members had no one but their beloved DM to blame for.

Too bad, Eddie’s willpower had never stood a chance against Steve’s playful smiles and impish whispers anyway.

[imfinereallyy]

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

[thisissirius]

Do you think they're gonna fight?

hmmmmm

it might go something like this

"What is your problem?"

The words ring through the weird echo in Buck's kitchen. Eddie's furious, the lines of his body tense, holding himself apart from Buck.

Which shouldn't be as life-changing as it feels.

"Eddie," Buck says, fingers tight around the counter. "I thought you were out with Tommy."

"I was," Eddie says slowly, and there's confusion in the way he stares at Buck, a little betrayed, a little hurt. "You said you were busy tonight, but then Maddie sent a text. You told her we were going out?"

Fuck.

Buck shrugs, sliding his beer bottle off the counter. "Does it matter?"

"You're lying to your sister, to me, and you're asking if it matters?"

It's not lying. It's preservation. Buck can't—can't do this. "You were having fun, I was having fun," as if, "everything is fine."

Eddie watches him as he crosses the kitchen, cradling the beer bottle in his hands. Buck wants him to leave, to let him have this, whatever it is, in private. "You don't lie to me."

"Yeah well, people change," Buck mutters, because the hurt lances through him. Eddie and Tommy, getting on better, their relationship so effortless when Buck was jealous and angry and, and, and. "Tommy's—"

"I don't care about Tommy right now," Eddie says, coming to stand on the other side of the counter. "I care about you and whatever you have going on! it's not like you, Buck, and you can talk to me, you know you can."

Buck opens his mouth, closes it. "Not this. Not this."

There's definitely hurt in Eddie's expression, but he turns before Buck gets a good look. "Aren't we," Eddie starts, cuts off. His shoulders fall, sag a little. "Alright, Buck. Just—there's nothing you can tell me that I wouldn't—"

"Eddie," Buck whispers. He always thought it would be some furious thing, angry and heavy with emotion. Instead, he feels desperate, knows that if Eddie leaves like this, tension and hurt between them, it won't matter anymore.

"I think I might be bisexual!"

The words fall faster than he can stop them. It settles like lead in his stomach and he takes an involuntary step backwards.

Eddie turns, his eyes widening a fraction, his mouth closing. He stares.

The stretch is long enough that Buck starts to panic, feels something claw at his chest and it's tight, so tight, he definitely need to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

"Why would that," Eddie starts, cutting himself off.

Eddie's not stupid, of course he's not, but Buck hopes, begs, that he thinks it's Tommy, that Buck's like this because—

"Buck," Eddie says.

Shit. "Eddie, I don't—"

"Look at me." Eddie's words are soft, so soft. Buck wants to look up but he can't, he can't. Not if he wants to keep breathing or standing or doing anything that isn't collapsing because this is Eddie and he's, he's, everything.

Feet move into his periphery, fingers curling around his bicep.

"Buck," Eddie says again, this time firmer. "Buddy, look at me."

Like he's moving through mud, chest still tight, body warm, Buck is helpless to do anything but look up. Eddie looks the same way he always does. Buck isn't sure what that means; aren't things supposed to change? To shift beyond comprehension?

"Me?"

The word shouldn't be so life-changing. It's two letters, but it feels like so much more as Buck stares at his best friend. He wants to say yes, wants to run, but whatever Eddie sees in his face must say everything he can't.

"Shit." Eddie's fingers rest against Buck's collar, and he tips his head forward. Their foreheads touch and Buck doesn't know what to say, what to do. "Your timing, man."

Buck swallows. "I didn't know, not really. Not until—"

"Tommy," Eddie says. "Did you think—?"

"It seemed so easy, you and him," Buck starts.

"It is," Eddie agrees, shaking Buck a little. "But that doesn't mean anything against you. How could it? How could anyone come close to you?"

It's—Buck's fingers curl slowly around Eddie's waist, hooking in his jacket. "I'm sorry," he says, "about the lying, about not telling you. I couldn't, I didn't want to ruin anything."

"I know." Eddie sighs, pulling back, but his hand stays on Buck's collarbone, thumb rubbing against the exposed skin. "I'm so proud of you for saying it."

Something loosens in Buck's shoulders. "Thanks."

"But," Eddie says, and the lead is back, molten and hot in Buck's stomach. "I can't—Marisol and Chris," Eddie starts. "I need to speak to them and I can't, I need—"

The words trail off into silence.

Buck stares at Eddie, at the stricken expression, the concern. "I'm not going anywhere."

A smile curves Eddie's face and god, how could Buck have thought he'd be okay with this losing this? With letting Eddie go and being alone?

"It doesn't have to be now," Buck says, finding himself back on familiar ground. "You're the forever kind of guy, Eddie."

Eddie looks gut-punched, and his fingers flex against Buck's collarbone, tugs him forward by his shirt. A kiss brushes against Buck's temple, and Eddie drags him into a hug. "You're something else, Evan."

The hug is warm, tight, and Buck clings to the back of Eddie's jacket. He feels wrung out, worn and used, and he buries his face in Eddie's neck. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Eddie says gently. "It's not an easy thing to say."

Buck doesn't ask what about you or why did you come here or you make me so fucking happy.

Eddie doesn't say I don't know or I'll always come for you or you're the forever kind of guy, too.

Eventually, they will.

For now, it's enough.

or something :)

[ashwhowrites]

Cheerleader! Reader is insecure because she wants to date Eddie, but he doesn't seem interested in her, one night she's sleeping at Chrissy's and Chrissy starts to talk about Eddie and Reader panicks because she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, but she's just buying from him, and also she's giving Eddie advises on how to invite Reader on a date, one day, after cheer practice, Eddie waits for reader, and he says to her that he needs to talk with her, but she panicks because she thinks Eddie is gonna ask about Chrissy, so she escaped from Eddie, but he goes to her house because he really wants a date with reader, and he explains to her that he wants a date with her, and they go out and start to date, and Chrissy's happy about them

I AM A SUCKER FOR CHEERLEADER FICS!

I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it :) thank you for requesting

...me?

Beautiful board made by @starksbabie

Y/N was a head cheerleader, which meant she could date anyone in the school that she wanted. Every guy in the school wanted to have a cheerleader on their arm. Except for the one she wanted more than anyone. Y/N had her eyes set on Eddie Munson since last year. But he made it clear that the popular crowd and the jocks were people he despised.

Y/N wanted to ask him out more than anything, but he never gave her another look. She tried to be friendly, and show that she wasn't an enemy. But all her smiles were met with a stone face. Her waves were never returned, and any time she got a tiny bit of eye contact, he'd look away instantly. She knew the crush wouldn't go away, but she decided not to lie to herself by believing he'd like her too.

~~~

It was a Friday night and Chrissy was hosting a sleepover for the team. All the girls wrapped up in their sleeping bags as a game of truth or dare worked through the circle.

"Chrissy, truth or dare?" Lacy asked, Chrissy gave some thought before answering truth.

"Is it true you and Eddie Munson are sneaking around?" Y/N's head snapped to Chrissy. A look of disbelief on her face, Chrissy and Eddie? Her best friend and crush?

Y/N felt her stomach turning in knots as Chrissy stuttered to answer. She hated the way Chrissy's cheeks blushed as she looked caught.

"Just buying his weed! That is all." She laughed, her eyes locking on Y/N anxiously. Y/N almost felt a little betrayed. Chrissy knew Y/N liked him. She was caught, and she was guilty.

Y/N quickly excused herself to the bathroom. If anyone were to change Eddie's mind on the popular group, it would be Chrissy.

~~~

Monday morning rolled around and Y/N still felt sick to her stomach. She hasn't talked much to Chrissy. She didn't mean to be so bitchy, but being around Chrissy reminded her that Eddie was available to Chrissy.

Y/N can't get a wave from Eddie, but Chrissy gets secret hangouts. It was clear Eddie was not interested in her at all. Losing him to her best friend was a tricky pill to swallow.

~~~

The lunch bell rang and Chrissy prepared to meet Eddie in the woods, collecting her jacket as she knocked into Y/N.

"Oh hey!" Chrissy greeted, Ever since that sleepover Y/N was different. Chrissy had a feeling why but couldn't blow Eddie's cover.

"Eddie?" Y/N asked, her arms crossed as she gave Chrissy that sad look.

"It's not like that, I promise. Just weed." Chrissy tried to explain.

"Why don't you buy a bigger bulk if you go through it so fast? You see him like weekly." Y/N said she didn't believe Chrissy for a second.

"Great idea! I will ask him about that." Chrissy smiled, but Y/N wasn't convinced.

She watched as Chrissy snuck out the back doors.

~~~

"You have to do it." Chrissy snapped, her arms crossed as she stared down at Eddie.

"Um, what?" Eddie laughed, lighting his blunt as the blonde paced in front of him.

"Fucking Lacy outed me at the sleepover. Y/N knows we are meeting, and she thinks we are hooking up. I said it was just weed, but I know she doesn't believe me. She likes you, and now she thinks we are into each other. If you want her, do it now." Chrissy explained in one breath.

"But I can't! I still can't look at her without shying away. I still need more time." Eddie panicked.

Y/F/N was the girl Eddie had his eyes on for years. But the status of being the town freak scared him away. She was sweet and nice. She'd smile at him and he'd freeze. She would wave and his body couldn't function.

"The longer you wait, the longer she will hate us both," Chrissy warned.

~~~

Eddie paced outside of the gym, waiting for Y/N to come out of practice. As she made her way out of the door, Eddie was quick to stop her.

"Hey! Can I talk to you quickly?"Eddie asked, Y/N froze as his hand touched her arm. Her mind raced with reasons why he would want to talk, and then it clicked. He wanted to ask about Chrissy. She wanted to be a good friend, but she couldn't handle it. She couldn't listen to him ask about her best friend.

"Yeah, just let me change." She said with a smile. Which was a lie, She grabbed her bag from the locker room and ran out the other door.

Eddie paced back and forth as he waited for her to come back out, but every cheerleader wasn't her. Chrissy made her way out and smiled at Eddie.

"Hey, how did it go?" Chrissy asked, a smile on her face as she bounced on her heels.

"Still waiting for her to change and come out," Eddie said he was nervous. He thought he'd have more time to figure out how to ask her out. But Chrissy it was now or never, and he picked now.

"She isn't in there, Eddie. I was the last one." Chrissy explained, confused as to why Y/N would lie.

"She blew me off?" Eddie chuckled, maybe she didn't like him as much as Chrissy thought.

"I know she had a reason. Here is her address, talk to her." Chrissy said, writing the address on a piece of paper and handing it to Eddie.

~~~

Eddie felt discouraged as he pulled up to her house. She ran away from him and now he showed up at her house. What if she really wasn't interested?

He sat in his van, debating in his head if this was a good idea or not. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Y/N walking out of her house.

She softly knocked on his passenger window, he jumped at the sound but smiled once he saw her. He unlocked the door and watched as she slid in.

"You've been out here for five minutes, so I wanted to see if you were alright." Y/N joked, enjoying the way she made him laugh.

"I was trying to figure out if showing up at your house was a good idea or not." Eddie confessed.

"I'm sorry for running away. I just wasn't prepared to handle you asking about Chrissy." Y/N admitted, a pained smile on her face.

"Ask about Chrissy?" Eddie asked confused.

"Yeah... you want to ask her out, right?" Y/N said, matching Eddie's confused look with her own.

But Eddie's face cracked into a smile, a slight laugh leaving his lips.

"You've got it all wrong, gorgeous. I wanted to ask you out." Y/N was shocked at his confession. Not believing him as she looked at him suspiciously.

"Me? Why?" She asked

"Because I've liked you for a year and have been too chicken to look in your direction. Chrissy told me about the sleepover. There's nothing romantic between her and I. Just deals and she was helping me plan to ask you out. But today she told me if I didn't make a move, it would never happen. So here I am. Following you home, like a stalker, to ask you out on a date." Eddie explained, now nervous as his confession was in the air.

"I'm so dumb." Y/N said as she laughed at herself. Covering her face in embarrassment. "I can't believe I ran away."

"Hey, I spent a year running from you. No judgement here." Eddie teased. She felt grateful that he wasn't pissed off at her.

"That's true! I'd look at you and you were gone." She laughed, he joined in and agreed.

"Now that neither of us can run, can I take you out on a date?" He asked

"I'd love to."

~~~

Chrissy was more than pleased when she got calls from both of them about how amazing the date went.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[exhuastedpigeon]

When I was 13 my mom did something that hurt me to my core. I gave her the silent treatment for weeks. I talked to her through my siblings and my dad until she came into my room and wouldn't leave until we talked about it. It's almost 20 years later and sometimes I still feel like that hurt 13 year old.

Maybe Chris is genuinely that upset with his dad. Maybe he's 13/14 and he's holding a grudge because he's 800 miles away and there's not forced proximity to get him and Eddie talking again. Maybe he's not talking about it at all and letting the wound fester and get infected. Maybe his grandparents are letting it fester.

Do I think it's a little strange that Chris is still that mad at Eddie, yeah. But I also remember being 13 and angry. I remember being 13 and feeling betrayed. If you don't have someone pushing you to process it and try to move forward, you can get stuck in it. Maybe Chris is still stuck in that moment. Maybe every time he sees Eddie's face on a video call he remembers seeing him hugging a woman that for a minute Chris thought was his mom.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day five.

Today Is Not Tomorrow

Prompt: Omegaverse/Posessive | Word Count: 2043 | Rating: E | CW: Role Playing Hints of DubCon | Tags: Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Role Playing in Public, Omegaverse, Heat, Teasing, Alpha Steve, Omega Eddie, A Look at Aging, Light Hurt/Comfort, Lasting Love

Eddie sits on the barstool, and he's not wearing blockers of any kind tonight. An act of defiance. He's throwing his scent all over the place, right as he's rushing headlong into his heat, and he knows it's sweet as fuck. Cloying. He knows how he smells, even if it's hard to smell something you're around everyday. He's nearly noseblind to it after all these years, but he's not totally unaware of his own scent. 

And neither are the alphas in the bar, apparently, because they're circling like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. No, that's just a little bit of slick and pheromones. Everybody's got 'em, what's the big fucking deal? Honestly.

Tonight, here in this bar, he's been touched, brushed against, and groped half a dozen times already. Is he asking for it, being here as his heat is ramping up? Maybe. But he still says no to each of them. And some take no for an answer. Some others growl at him, at each other.

Eddie is tired of this. He's just trying to have a beer, but he's surrounded by alpha bullshit this, alpha bullshit that. He's truly, and well over it by his age. He's not a young omega, hasn't been for a long fucking time, and he's definitely not in need of a savior, never has been. They're all knotheads, and while that sounds great, in theory, he remembers being young. Remembers how it was never what he actually wanted, once he got them between his thighs. Not really. He could never trust them enough to enjoy the act of submission that he's always longed for, so he learned to do without. He'd take care of himself on his own, before he'd drag home some random asshole alpha.

He wants to get held down and fucked, but not by any of these dickheads. He'll wind up bitten and bred, and no fucking thanks.

Not for the first time, he thinks if he were an alpha instead of an omega, he'd never have to put up with this.

He doesn't give a fuck, he can handle himself, he thinks, just a second before he's scruffed by the back of the neck, and he tenses just for a moment, before he goes limp in the alpha's grasp. Submitting, instantly.

Fucking godammit. He kind of hates himself for it. Maybe he can't handle it all on his own.

"You're coming home with me," the alpha commands, and Eddie's whole body melts into the alpha's voice, hand. It shouldn't work on him, it wouldn't, not usually, but it has in this instance. Jesus H. Christ.

Then he's tugged off his barstool, the alpha throwing a handful of bills on the bar, as he leads Eddie off, like he's a pup that needs to be manhandled into submission.

Maybe he's exactly that. 

Maybe he wants to be.

Eddie tries to get a whiff of this alpha, to see if he even likes the smell of him, but the bar is full of alphas, and they're all mixed together in an overwhelming stench.

"What makes you think you're so goddamn special?" Eddie asks, and the alpha tightens his grip on Eddie's neck, not allowing him to move, let alone run. Not that it would matter if he did try to flee, he'd be chased, he knows he would, and easily caught, he's certain.

This alpha is bigger, stronger, and adamant. Eddie can't win against any of those things.

The alpha pushes him up against the alleyway wall, face-first, shoving his knee between Eddie's legs. Pressing upwards.

"You soaking wet for me?" he asks, close to Eddie's ear.

"I think you know the answer to that, unless your nose is busted," Eddie answers, laying his head against the filthy bricks. The knee is pressed harder, higher, and Eddie's body betrays him, releasing more slick, getting ready. Sending out a blatant invitation. 

His biology, overtaking his brain.

Then the alpha spins him around, and sinks to his knees, burying his face right in Eddie's crotch, sucking in a deep breath. 

It's the filthiest thing Eddie's ever experienced, and now he's even wetter than before. Throbbing with need. Want. 

"It's not broken," the alpha says, and presses his face right up against him, even harder. Breathing deep and greedy.

"Do I even get a name, if you're gonna shove your nose in my crotch like a bad dog?" Eddie asks, reaching down and running his fingers through thick hair, pulling, just a little. 

The alpha looks up, with big, expressive eyes. 

"Alpha," he says, and Eddie glowers down at him. 

"Yeah, no," Eddie snaps. "Not happening. You're not my alpha. And even if you were, I'm not into that bullshit."

He gets growled at for his trouble, and Eddie growls back. It doesn't have the bark, and definitely none of the bite, and the alpha throws his head back and laughs.

"That's cute," he finally says, and Eddie seethes. 

"You're going home with me. And I'm gonna take what you desperately want me to have." 

Eddie can't even argue, he's floating away at the idea. His heat finally hitting in full force, making its feelings on the situation known. 

The betrayal of his own goddamn body. 

He's suddenly flushed, and so fucking hot, burning up, and he needs to be out of these clothes, so he nods, and the alpha smiles, caressing his hips, before rising back up onto his feet.

"Take me home," Eddie says, and the alpha does just that.

Eddie is writhing under the alpha, flushed with desire, rolling along with his heat. Feeling drunk on it. Needing the release. Crazy with want, panting, begging, needing. Needing more. Needing everything.

Relishing the feel of the alpha's big hands pressing his wrists to the bed, holding him down, taking. And Eddie gives. Gives this alpha everything he has. All the control, all the power.

He closes his eyes and just feels. Feels his own body, feels the alpha's cock sliding in and out, feels the knot that's forming, threatening to catch and lock them together, at any minute.

And it does.

The knot catches, and the teeth sink in, biting him hard, and Eddie comes. Clenches down on the knot he's now locked to, and comes all over his own belly at the feeling of the teeth in his neck. When the alpha finally lets go, Eddie puts his hand to his neck, pressing against the wound.

"You just go around biting everyone you meet in a bar?" Eddie snaps, but he smiles.

"Only when they belong to me," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. 

"You think I'm your property?" Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow, a question. A challenge.

"Oh no, I'm not that stupid. I'm not new here," Steve says, nuzzling his face against Eddie's neck. Licking at the wound.

And it makes Eddie smile. Because he does belong to Steve. Has, for a very long time. And Steve belongs to him, too. Steve's definitely not new here, so he's definitely not gonna let Steve get by with just saying that. It's just not how things work in their house. 

Eddie will submit, wants to, loves to, but he damn well doesn't want that commented upon like it's a goddamn given. It's his choice to make, always has been.

Even as his body makes demands.

And now that his body has finally given in, gotten what it wanted, the foggy feeling has been snatched away. Too fast. Too abrupt. It never used to be this way. 

Before, he could ride the wave of his heat for hours, for days, lost. Adrift. Steve taking care of him, such good care, being inside him, day and night. Holding him down, fucking him, loving him, and keeping his omega desires beyond sated.

Because he trusts Steve. His husband. His mate. His alpha.

His body would be filled, and loved, and fucking worshipped. And he could float off into space, indefinitely, while it was happening.

And now his body is betraying him. 

These days, after he comes one fucking time, it's like the dial on his heat is turned from eleven down to zero. From blaring heavy metal, to complete radio silence in an instance. No pleasant buzzing in his brain to be found anywhere, only the ringing in his ears, left behind with the sudden absence of it. Like he'd hadn't been lost in his heat, just minutes ago. 

It sucks.

It'll start buzzing again later, slowly picking up for round two, probably, hopefully, but the harsh change right now threatens to drag him low. 

He misses what once was.

He clutches at Steve's back. 

"Watching all those alphas approaching you, thinking they had a chance," Steve says, giving the barest roll of his hips, all he can manage while they're locked together in this way. It probably hurts Steve, but he does it anyway, and Eddie moans at the tugging sensation at his opening.

It brings him back to Steve. 

He's so full. So taken care of. So loved. 

And has been for years, decades. 

"You got jealous?" Eddie asks. 

"Always," Steve says, "they don't get to touch you. Scent you. That's mine. You're all mine."

And Steve's cock must agree, because it gives another spurt, filling Eddie even further with come. 

"Easy there, hot shot, you're old. You'll dehydrate yourself," Eddie says, and Steve laughs. 

But then Eddie tells him, voice serious, "I'm all yours." 

And Steve growls, low in his chest, possessive. 

"You better not be growling at me, sweetheart," Eddie teases, and Steve rolls it over into a purr, smiling. "That's better."

He'll submit to Steve in bed any day of the week, wants to, and feels fucking amazing when he does. But he's still Eddie, and that will never change. He's an omega, but he's his own goddamn man, out of this bed.

Luckily, Steve seems to love that about him. Has always loved that about him. 

Eddie thought he was a bad omega in his youth, and was sure he didn't give a fuck about any of it. Then, along came Steve.

He's not a bad omega, because he's Steve's perfect one. He's been told that enough, to believe it to be true.

Steve's knot eventually goes down, and then he slides out of Eddie. He's immediately down between Eddie's legs, fussing, "You okay?"

Eddie's okay, he's just getting old, and he can't take what he could at twenty or even thirty or forty. He's sure his days of getting heats are coming to an end any day now, as sporadic as they are anymore, and in some respects, he feels like, good fucking riddance.

In others, he'll miss it. Miss what it is, what it might mean, for them as a pair.

Steve's ruts still come like clockwork, and biology isn't fair.

Eddie worries that he might not even get to submit to Steve if there's no heady undercurrent telling him to, guiding him.

He worries he won't be as attractive, as alluring to Steve, once he's no longer throwing down the major pheromones. 

"Where'd you go?" Steve asks, taking a break from running his tongue all around Eddie's opening, cleaning him up. Soothing any hurts. 

"Worrying that maybe this was the last time," Eddie whispers, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Honey," Steve says, crawling up Eddie's body, laying on top of him, heavy and protective. Giving him the feeling of security that comes in no other way, can't.

"I'm good," he tells Steve, then smiles into Steve's neck, "You're a good alpha." 

And Steve purrs at the praise, at the love, and it rattles against Eddie's chest, soothing him. Making all his worries slip away. Eddie knows that's what Steve gets off on the most. Their love, their bond. 

And that's going nowhere. Heat, no heat. 

Nothing can change their love, their connection, and Eddie melts into the sheets, and just relaxes under Steve's body. 

"Do you want me to stay on top of you?" Steve asks, and Eddie does.

"Please," Eddie answers. Wrapping his arms around Steve's middle, squeezing him tight.

Today is not tomorrow, and it's not yesterday either, and submitting to that fact means he's just gonna stay right here. In the present. 

With Steve.

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

Notes: This was my first foray into writing omegaverse, ever. I enjoyed the new challenge, but it quickly turned into a bit of a character study on aging without my permission, lol. I don't even know if the menopause equivalent has a counterpart in omegaverse lore. Welp, it does here, I guess.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Six Day Seven

[wheels-of-despair]

Evil Woman and Baby Bro vs. The Worst Summer Vacation Ever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman and Baby Bro are off to see their old man in sunny Florida! Against their will. Armed only with well-concealed snacks and metal mix tapes and unacceptable attitudes. Send help. Contains: Lots of Gareth the Grump, a sucktastic step-family, sweet gifts from Eddie, pining, forced family fun time, a wicked sunburn, a daring escape, an emotional reunion, a hospital visit, a happy ending. Words: 6.7k

Your brother doesn't ask you for much.

Leave him alone. Grab him a soda. Stop being gross. (Well, that one's usually directed at Eddie, too.) But in general, he's pretty easy to get along with. You'd never actually tell him this, lest it go to his already big head, but you like him. Genuinely. He's a good baby brother.

So when he asked (begged) you to accompany him on a family vacation (court-ordered) to Florida (oh, the humidity!) with your father and step-mother and her two brats…

"He said please," you explain to Eddie. He sits on the opposite side of your couch, arms and legs crossed, glaring at you. (Yes, the thought of bringing him with you had crossed your mind, but your old man wouldn't even pretend to consider it. Even if you tried to pass him off as one of Gareth's friends and not the guy who does unspeakable things to you whenever you're left alone for ten minutes.)

"You're leaving me, the love of your life, alone for two whole weeks. To go to a place you don't want to go to, with people you hate…" his eyes somehow narrow more, "because Gareth said please."

You heave a sigh and lean your head back to stare at the ceiling. You've been through this. Yes, you're a legal adult and don't have to abide by government-enforced visitation requirements for children of divorce anymore. Yes, you hate your father and his replacement family and the traveling and the beach. But you love your brother. You don't want him to suffer alone.

"Alright, I guess I'll allow it."

You raise your head to see that his vicious glare has been betrayed by a twinkle in his eye and a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

You laugh and crawl to him. He opens his arms and stretches out his legs, and you lie on the couch together instead of staring at each other across an empty cushion.

"It's just two weeks," you remind him, nuzzling your cheek into his chest. "And it's the last time. If all goes well, I may never have to see the old man again."

Eddie sighs and holds you a little tighter.

"You're not gonna like… fall in love with some big buff surfer dude with a nice tan and decide not to come home, are you?"

You snort. "Baby, you know I like 'em scrawny and pale."

"How dare you, I am not… wait, do you think I'm scrawny?"

"Nah," you smile, sticking your hand under his shirt and rubbing the belly that's filled out beautifully since you started feeding him actual food. "You're perfect."

"You keep that in mind when Brad and Chad try to make their move," he mumbles into your hair.

"Oh, there's two of them?" you tease. "Are they twins? This… this might change things. Hang on, let me re-evaluate. Two big buff twin surfer dudes." You draw a 2 with your finger, just above his belly button. "One pale nerd." You draw a 1, slowly dragging your finger down his happy trail. He shudders. You glance at the clock.

"Y'know…" you begin, letting your fingers trace his zipper and the growing stiffness it's barely concealing. "We've got half an hour…"

Day One

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much."

"I'll be back before you know it," you mumble into Eddie's chest. You didn't think it would hurt this much to leave him behind. But here you are, squeezing the life out of him like it's the very last time. Two weeks without him is going to feel like an eternity.

"It's time to goooo," your mom calls from the car. She and Gareth have been waiting with the windows down while you said goodbye to Eddie (again) but it would appear that her patience is beginning to wear thin.

"Gotta go," you sigh, pulling back and looking up at his gorgeous face one last time. "Will you be here when I get back?"

Eddie recites the landing time of your return flight and assures you that he will be here, in this driveway, waiting for you to get home.

"Love you," you whisper.

"Love you more," he counters, leaning in for one last kiss.

He walks you the few steps to the car and opens the back door for you. You get in. He closes it. You turn back to face him as the car pulls away; your eyes don't leave his until you turn the corner and your driveway disappears from sight.

You lean back and close your eyes, feeling empty and alone, while your mother and brother chat in the front seat. You can't believe you left him behind. Two whole Eddie-less weeks. You haven't gone more than a few days without seeing each other since you met.

You reach into your bag and pull out the mix tape he'd given you this morning. "If you come back here a pop fan, I'm going to be very upset with you," he'd teased. You stare at the paper insert he'd decorated for you, and then let your hand close around the box. You wish it were his hand instead.

The trip to the airport, the flight, and the landing were a bit of a blur. Your mother teared up as she said goodbye. The plane was cramped, and even the eardrum-blasting mix tape Eddie made you wasn't powerful enough to drown out the sound of multiple crying babies. Getting there was the easy part. The real adventure began when you and your brother got off the plane... and saw a taxi driver holding a cardboard sign with your names hastily scribbled in Sharpie.

"If you were to make two kids who didn't like you come to visit you in a place they didn't want to go to, don't you think you'd at least bother to show up and get them?" Gareth grumbles.

"Baby brother, you're looking at it all wrong. Would you rather spend this ride in a roomy cab with a total stranger, or crammed into a backseat with the evil step-siblings?" He answers with a smirk.

The cab ride took almost an hour, and passed in silence. After shooting each other odd looks meaning things like "are we going to get murdered?" or "at least there's no small talk" you stared out the windows and took in the scenery. Florida is not nearly as neon as Miami Vice would have you believe. You passed strip malls and houses and palm trees. Very exciting.

The driver pulls up to the curb in front of a rental house near the beach and exits the cab without turning off the engine. You take this as your cue to get out. He moves your bags from the trunk to the sidewalk while the pair of you stretch, then gets back into the car and drives away without a word.

"Guess he got paid up front," you muse, watching his taillights grow smaller.

"Great conversationalist, feel like we should've tipped him for that," Gareth grins.

"There they aaaare!" your step-monster squeals from the porch, making you both wince. "Come in, we've got so many fun things planned!"

"Kill me," Gareth grumbles under his breath.

The reunion goes about as expected. You're escorted into the kitchen for a lovely feast of weird organic hippie food that makes both of you queasy. (You've both stowed away plenty of snacks in your luggage.) You're grilled on each school subject and your nonexistent extracurriculars, and then forced to sit through a recap of everything your angelic step-siblings have accomplished since you'd seen them last. Honor roll! Perfect attendance! Soccer trophy! Scout badges!

You pick at your lunch and endure the bottomless bragging until you're escorted to your rooms.

"Girls are in here, and the boys are down the hall!" the step-monster chirps.

You both freeze.

"We always bunk together," you protest.

"You're not hiding out under headphones and listening to your Satanic music the whole time like you did over Christmas," your father chimes in. "This vacation is about family bonding."

"We're as bonded as we're gonna get," Gareth argues, crossing his arms boldly in defiance. You're letting him pick the movie and the snacks on your first movie night back home.

"If you're going to be difficult, I could just send you home."

"Is that an option?" you ask.

"Because we choose that," Gareth adds.

"Can't we all please just--" the step-monster begins.

"IN!" the old man roars.

You trade smirks and part ways.

You unpack your suitcase in the pink room with the two twin beds and listen to the step-sister (what is she, 9? 10?) yap excitedly about whatever random thoughts cross her mind until dinner. Which sucks even more than lunch did. After dinner, the whole family gets to clean up together and play a thrilling game of Monopoly! (Barf.)

You make the old man proud by volunteering to be the banker. It shows initiative! Perhaps a career in finance is in your future! Little did he know, it was so you could slip Gareth extra play money under the table. He owns almost the whole board by the end. The little ones are quite frustrated by all the rent they have to pay.

Tragically, Garethopoly is called before the broke little angels give in to the tantrums that had been brewing all night. At 8:30 (wow), you're instructed to put the game away and get ready for bed.

You put on pajamas chosen specifically for this occasion; boys' boxers and a stained Hellfire Club shirt. Your cellmate, looking like a proper princess in her frilly nightgown, eyes you warily. Good. You sit on your stupid pink bed, turn on the seashell lamp, and pull out one of the six paperbacks you brought along.

Your eyes won't focus on the words, but you pretend to read in hopes of being left alone. There are so many things you'd rather be doing, and places you'd rather be. You should be arguing over shitty horror movies at Family Video with Eddie right now. And getting a pizza.

God, it's only been one day of hippie food, and you're already fantasizing about pizza.

The step-sister shrieks when Gareth enters the pink nightmare of a room.

"No boys allowed!"

"Chill, kid, I'm just making a delivery," he rolls his eyes.

"My name is Ashley, and this is the girls' room!"

The attitude behind her declaration makes it the funniest thing you've heard all day. You disguise your laugh as a cough. Gareth ignores her and tosses a cassette to you. You pick it up curiously. When you notice Eddie's handwriting, your heart soars.

"Eddie told me to give that to you before bed," he sighs, then furrows his brow and launches into his best Eddie impression: "'Not at the airport, not when you get there. Right before bed. You hear me, little drummer boy?' Kay. I did it. Be sure to tell him that your tape was delivered at the appropriate time."

"Will do," you laugh. "Thank you."

"Yup," he says, cutting his eyes at the step-sister who's still glaring at him with her covers pulled up to her neck. For modesty. He rolls his eyes again and leaves.

"What's that?" she asks after he's out of sight.

"A tape."

"What's on it?"

"Probably a mix," you shrug.

"What kind of mix?"

You're spared further questioning by the step-monster coming in to tuck her little angel in. How sweet. You pop your headphones on and pretend to listen until the lights are out and the kid quiets down.

And then you press play.

"Gareth, if you're listening to this, I promise… you will regret it," Eddie rumbles, low and threatening. You've never been so happy to hear someone's voice in your life. That's your Eddie. It's like he's right here with you. You'd rather be there with him, but you'll take what you can get. "I'm warning you, man. This tape contains shit you absolutely cannot unhear. You will be scarred for life. This is your last chance. Rewind the tape, and pass it on like you were instructed to. Right before bed. Thank you for your cooperation."

You bring your hand to cover your mouth so laughter won't escape. He waits a beat, then changes his tone.

"Hey, baby," he says smoothly. Tears prickle at your eyes. "If you're missing me half as much as I'm missing you, you're probably hurtin' pretty bad. But it's okay. I'm here." Tears stream down your face and drip on your pillow. "Here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna ask you a question, and you're gonna pause the tape and think of an answer. And then you're gonna hit play again, and you're gonna laugh, because I've predicted exactly what you're going to say. You ready?" You nod. "You just nodded, didn't you?" You smile and nod again. "See, I know you better than you know yourself. Now… how was your day?"

You press pause. Shitty. The plane was crowded and the ride was bumpy. It's hot and muggy, and you're rooming with a kid you don't like, and you don't want to be here. You want to be there with him, cuddled up on his couch or in your basement or in the van. You want to go home. You press play.

"Wow, that sucks. Screw that Florida weather, and your dumb-ass step-family." You smile. "It's gonna take so much work to counteract this horrible vacation. We're gonna have to hole up in the trailer and eat nothing but junk food for a solid week to undo this. You in?"

Absolutely.

"Knew you would be. What do you think I'm doing right now?"

You press pause and think. Watching TV and/or jerking off. Play.

"Don't say jerking off, you pervert."

He didn't say he wasn't, he just said not to say it. He's jerking off.

"I am not!" He does that goofy little chuckle he does, and you wish you were close enough to feel it vibrate through you. "Okay, I might be. I'm lonely, dammit." You hear a paper shuffle. "As you might have guessed, I've tried to script these out and time it so I've got enough to keep you Eddie-fied until you get home. So it's not much, but I'm hoping it's enough to remind you that I'm here and I miss you and I'm NOT JERKING OFF while I wait for you to come home. Well, not the whole time, anyway. That's about it for tonight, but uh… I'm gonna end every night with a song. To lull you to sleep. Because that's the kind of music we're into, obviously."

You close your eyes and hug your walkman to your chest, wishing it were him instead.

"This first one needs no introduction, so!" He clears his throat and starts singing… to the tune of Black Sabbath's "Evil Woman". "I miss that look of evil in your eyes, that thing about not jerking off was a lie, sorrow will be me until you're here, not sure what Ozzy's saying there… Evil Woman, please come play your games with me!"

Eddie stops singing and starts laughing. "Okay, that's it, you've been sung to sleep, now please do wicked and kinky to things to me in our dreams." He laughs again. "Turn the tape off after the 'love you', because you're not allowed to listen to tomorrow's until tomorrow. Kay? Kay. Good night, my Evil Woman. I hope your tomorrow sucks less than today. I love you. Press stop. Now. Now! Now? Now!"

You wait a beat and press stop, leaving the headphones on. What if you're not ready to say goodbye? Even for 24 hours?

Day Two

"Hey, baby." You press pause and let the feeling of calmness wash over you. You've been looking forward to hearing his voice all day. Play. "How was day two? You didn't forget about me already, did you? Is Gareth keeping those pretty surfer boys away from you like I asked? Tell me everything."

Pause. Today sucked. At least most of the first day was spent traveling with someone you like. Why did the old man even want you here if he was just going to be a dick to you both the whole time? Those brats were up your ass every second, asking too many questions and watching your every move with their beady little eyes. They went through your bags when you and Gareth hid out on the balcony for a moment of fucking peace and turned your contraband in to the authorities. All your food. Even your friggin' aspirin. You'd both received a long-ass lecture on chemicals and toxins and personal responsibility and how unhealthy habits shorten your lifespan. Which didn't sound too bad right fucking now. You were hungry. You couldn't sleep. Those fuckers dragged you out of bed at 6am, and for what? "Early to bed and early to rise, makes a family healthy, wealthy, and wise!" Psychos. Absolute psychos.

Play. "Wow, baby. That fucking sucks. Want me to come get you? 'Cause I'll do it. I'll hop in this van and speed my ass down to… where are you again? Doesn't matter, I'll find you."

Your chest aches.

"Ready to be lulled to sleep by the comforting voice of your handsome lover?" Always. "Alright, here goes." He clears his throat. "Your body's empty now as I hold you… wait, that's a pillow. Now you're gone, I miss you, but I told you, I remember bath times and morning wood, you best come back to me, without you I'm no good. I love you to death! I love you to death!"

Megadeth's "Loved to Deth," only better. Eddie laughs to himself when he finishes. "G'night, babe. Hope tomorrow's a better one. Love you."

Stop. You've never felt more lonely in your life. Taking off your headphones and glancing over to confirm that the step-brat is asleep, you get out of bed as quietly as you can. You need air.

You walk down the hallway toward the balcony, and aren't too surprised to find Gareth already there, on the wicker sofa staring out at the ocean. You sit next to him.

"I wanna go home," he mumbles.

"Me too," you whisper.

"How are we supposed to survive 12 more days of this?"

"By not letting them get to us. Just remember… we get to go home soon, and be happy, with people we like. These assholes will continue to be assholes, wherever they are."

Gareth heaves a sigh. You'd hug him if you didn't think he'd pretend to gag.

"I don't wanna go back in there. That kid's fucking creepy. I woke up this morning and he was just laying there, staring at me."

"Oh my god, the girl was doing that too!" you whisper in outrage. "What is wrong with them?!"

"Fuckin' Children of the Corn," he grumbles. You snort.

"Well… we probably won't get away with it for more than one night, but we could stay out here until the warden drags us back inside," you suggest.

"Fine by me," Gareth groans, scooting down on the cushion and putting his feet on the coffee table. "Is this improper?" he asks in a bad British accent.

"Nah, we were raised in a barn, it's fine," you grin, moving to do the same. You knew you'd both catch hell for not sleeping in your assigned cells in the morning, but for tonight, you'd take fresh air and Gareth over a creepy kid and a hard twin bed.

Day Three

"Hey, baby. Congrats on surviving three days without me! Your prize is coming home ASAP for some sweet lovin'." Eddie laughs at himself. "How was your day?"

Pause. Fucking sucked. You woke up to yelling about not being in your beds for your 6am wakeup call. You ate a bland breakfast and were dragged to the beach for a family photo op. Staged photos of all the loving siblings bonding. Building a sand castle… that your father actually built, because it needed to be impressive and photo-worthy. You all had to gather around it and smile and pretend to be working on it while the step-monster snapped away. Eating healthy snacks on an ironed picnic blanket. Playing in the ocean… where the playful splashes from the step-brats got so much saltwater in your face, your eyes were too red for more photos. You looked like drug addicts! It was disgraceful! Family fun time would have to continue tomorrow.

After that, you huddled under an umbrella until time to go inside. You and Gareth had applied sunscreen multiple times throughout the day, but still got a bit of a burn. This trip is un-fucking-bearable. You'd give anything to be in your dark basement with Eddie, far away from these douchebags and the burning Florida sun. Play.

"Fuuuuuck," he sighs. "I thought you were exaggerating when you told me how much these people sucked. No wonder you'd rather be at home with me." You'd do anything to trade this hell for sixty seconds of being home with your Eddie. "Ready for your song?" You nod. "People gonna make ya wonder if you're right, keep ya wide awake and worried late at night. Why don't ya tell 'em to beat it? Why don't ya tell 'em to eat it? Just a bunch of clowns, don't let 'em grind ya down!"

Motorhead's "Grind You Down."

"I know I didn't change anything in this one, but I don't think I needed to. I hope this song gets stuck in your head for the rest of the trip. Keep it playing. Don't let 'em grind ya down. That's it for tonight, babe. Hope tomorrow's better. Love ya."

Stop. You stare at the ceiling and grasp a handful of blanket, wishing it were Eddie's hand. You imagine hearing the roar of his van in the street and sneaking out and running away from here until you eventually nod off.

Day Four

"Hey, baby. How was day four?"

Pause. You couldn't find your sunscreen this morning. You'd torn the house apart, desperate for that high SPF you'd bought especially for this trip, and the step-brats finally found the bottle on the porch. Maybe you dropped it in your hurry to get back inside yesterday, you thought. You slathered it on as fast as you could, during a lecture about holding everyone up, and returned to the beach.

They kept you so busy staging bullshit for the camera, you didn't notice the problem until it was too late.

It was not your sunscreen. The step-brats had dumped your sunscreen out and refilled the bottle with lotion for a fun prank. The giggly little bastards finally confessed after your third re-application of the day. You and your brother were already burnt to a fucking crisp. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. The demon children were given a finger-wag and forced to skip dessert. (Cantaloupe, what a cruel blow.) You and Gareth were told to stop being so dramatic about a little sunburn. It was a harmless prank, they said. This is what siblings do, they said. Nevermind the chills and the headache and the unbearable fucking pain. It's just a harmless prank! Play.

"Those bastards. Do you want me to come down there and fight them? 'Cause I will. You know I will." Yes, please.

"Okay, this one's extremely rewritten to make up for yesterday's. Sorry-slash-you're welcome. Here we go: "Evil Woman, you've been down too long in the Florida sun, and I am having no fun."" Tears prick at your eyes. He's rewritten Dio's "Holy Diver" for you. "Ride the dolphin, see the sand and the sea, hope you'll think of me. Oh, I am so lonely." He laughs, but the tears spill down your burning cheeks. "Not bad, right? Watch your back, Weird Al. Weirder Ed's coming for you. Well, that's it for tonight… talk to you tomorrow, okay? Love you."

You rewind and replay the song. It's one of his absolute favorites. The fact that he rewrote a perfect song just for you makes you melt. Or maybe that's just your insides reacting to your outsides being fried.

"Evil Woman, you've been down too long in the Florida sun, and I am having no fun. Ride the dolphin, see the sand and the sea, hope you'll think of me. Oh, I am so lonely."

Gotta get away. The next line would be "gotta get away".

You lie there on your hot, scratchy sheets and think about escaping in order to get your mind off of the pain. What if you… and then you… could you actually pull this off?

When you're sure everyone's asleep, you get out of bed as quietly as you can and creep down the hallway to the boys' room. Gareth's not in his bed. He's not on the balcony. You stalk quietly through the house, no idea where he might be in this strange place.

He's standing in front of the fridge with the door open.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He jumps back and gasps. The bottles in the door rattle. He closes it softly, but you both look in the direction of the bedrooms and listen closely for stirring. You relax when you hear nothing.

"Scare the shit out of me, why don't you," he grumbles, leaning against the cool metal of the fridge. "No. Not okay. I'm hungry. I hurt. Everything fucking sucks. I wanna go home."

Your brother's not much of a crier these days, but his eyes look suspiciously shiny in the moonlight shining through the windows. It fills you with rage.

"Let's go."

"What?" he asks.

"Let's fucking go."

You stare at each other for a moment.

"You're serious?"

"Dead fucking serious. We don't want to be here. That dickhead only wanted us here for a photo op, so he can show everyone what a great parent he is. They're not just gonna let us sit here for the rest of the trip. Wherever they go, they're gonna drag us along too. Burns and all. So let's fucking go."

"Let's fucking go," Gareth echoes, pushing off the fridge.

"Pack your shit, I'll meet you back here in ten," you say quietly.

"More like three," Gareth smirks. "I never unpacked my shit to begin with."

You grin at each other, even though it hurts your fried faces, and take off toward your bedrooms.

You're packed in no time. You make a quick stop in your dad's bedroom, holding your breath while you extract a credit card and a few bills from his wallet. He snores away, rigid and on his back like he learned how to sleep from a textbook on how to mimic a human. The step-monster sleeps like a corpse, hands clasped on her stomach and mask covering her eyes. They're not even touching. You and Eddie could never.

You slip out of the room and find Gareth waiting for you in the kitchen.

"Ready?"

"Born ready."

You step out the front door and let it close with a satisfying click. Adios, bitchachos.

"Now what?" he asks.

You stare at the dark, empty street.

"Guess we walk," you grin.

"All the way back to Indiana?"

"To a bus stop or a cab that will take us to an airport, smartass." If you weren't both in pain already, you'd smack him. He smirks, and you start walking.

The further away from those people you get, the better you feel. When you get to the highway, a cab pulls over. You didn't even hail it. It's like it was meant to be. A woman in her fifties, named Linda, takes you to the nearest airport… which is fifteen minutes away from the rental house.

"Why did he have us hauled halfway across Florida in a cab when we got here, if there was an airport right here?" Gareth asks when it comes into view.

"This one's more expensive," Linda supplies. "I can take you to that one, if you'd prefer? Might save you a few bucks."

"That's okay," you smile. "We need to get home as soon as possible. Our father can spare it."

You thank her for the ride and give her a hefty tip that makes her face light up.

"You kids have a safe trip! And put some aloe on that sunburn!" she calls out her window as you enter the airport.

You approach the desk and talk to a pretty blonde about the first flight to the Midwest. You slide the credit card across the counter and secure two tickets to Chicago on a plane that leaves in an hour.

Day Five

"Did we actually pull this off?" Gareth mumbles, gazing lovingly at the ticket in his hand.

"Hope so," you mumble, taking it from him and putting it in your pocket for safekeeping. Little brothers, no matter their age, are not to be trusted. "Let's find the gate, then find something to eat."

"Hell yeah."

You walk for a while, and stop when the gate comes into view. You don't need to walk all the way down there just yet.

"That's us," you mumble, gesturing toward the gate in the distance. "By the time we eat, it'll probably be time to board. Let's roll."

You look to Gareth, but he's not looking at you. He's looking at the McDonald's sign. The golden arches shine like a light at the end of a miserable tunnel leading out of organic hell.

"Good choice, Gareth the Great," you smile. "Know what you want?"

"Everything," he practically drools.

You don't quite order everything, but the two of you devour a tray full of fast food - at airport prices, on the old man - like you've been starving for days. Which you have.

"Fifteen minutes until boarding begins," you note, sucking down the last of your drink and looking at your watch. "Let's hit the bathroom and call Mom."

You dump your trash and find the bathroom. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror and recoil. The burn looks so much worse under these fluorescent lights. No wonder you both scored free refills. You're going to peel for the rest of your life. If you ever see those brats again, it's ON.

You meet Gareth at the pay phones and drop a few coins in. But your mom's line is busy. You try again a minute later. Still busy. The clock is ticking. You call Eddie instead.

"Hawkins Morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em," he says boredly.

"Hi, baby," you breathe, so relieved to hear him live.

"Well this is unexpected," he laughs. "Tapes not doing it for you anymore? Needed some of the real thing?"

You smile, but Gareth's impatient face reminds you why you're making the call.

"We're on the run, babe, and we need your help."

"The Munson Underground is always at your service, m'lady."

"I tried calling Mom, but the phone was busy. Can you tell her that we're on the 1:05 out of Tampa, and we should be in Chicago at… wait, does that account for the time difference?"

"You're seriously making a break for it?"

"Yeah," you whisper, the reality of what you're doing starting to sink in. "We couldn't take it anymore. It was awful, Eddie."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and Gareth takes the phone before you can start crying on it.

"She'll be alright once she gets home. Which should be sometime in the next few hours. Will you hunt down our mother and tell her to pick us up?" He tells Eddie to get a pen, then relays the details of the ticket. "Kay. Here's your wife." He hands the phone back to you.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" he says, voice calm and soothing.

"Okay," your voice cracks. "Love you."

"Love you more," he says. "Gotta go, I'm gonna go tell your mom in person since you can't get through. See you in a few hours!"

You hang up the phone and take a shaky breath.

"Ready?" Gareth asks.

"In a minute," you mumble, checking your watch again. You approach the information desk and ask for an envelope. You put your father's name on it, put his credit card and change from the cab ride and dinner in it, and seal it. The woman at the counter assures you that it will be held in the office for your father. You'll call and tell him where to get it when you're safely back home, where you belong. (Or maybe send him a nice postcard.)

You board the plane wordlessly, sinking into your seats with a renewed sense of urgency. You're not out of the woods until you're in the air. You watch the people filing on, wondering if your old man would be smart enough to figure out where you went. Or if he cared enough to show up and drag you off.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the plane takes off, and so does Gareth. You're in the sky. You're on the way home. Everything is going to be okay.

"We're free," you mouth.

"Fuck yeah," he mouths back.

You grin at each other and reach for your walkmans. Should you listen to the rest of Eddie's goodnight songs, or save those? You'll save them. One a night, those are the rules. You pop in the mix tape he made you and close your eyes.

You don't open them again until you land. Your head is pounding. Your mouth is dry. The chills are getting worse. Your skin feels like it's going to crack if you move too much. Gareth feels it too, wincing and hissing as he gets out of his seat.

You gather your things and exit the plane with the rest. The blast of cold air conditioning feels nice on your hot skin as you step into the massive airport.

"Look," Gareth nudges you. You both regret it instantly, but you look in the direction he gestures to see your mom and your Eddie waiting for you. You quicken your pace.

"Holy shit," they say in unison as you approach.

You walk into Eddie, and his arms wrap around you. He's so warm, your body tells you to get away from him. Heat bad! Cold good! But you endure the discomfort, holding him tight and crying into his chest. You made it. You're home.

"Let me look at you," your mom orders, peeling you away from Eddie. "What the hell happened? Did you forget your sunscreen?"

Tears leak down your face, stinging as they go.

"Those little assholes dumped our sunscreen and replaced it with lotion," Gareth growls. "It's just a harmless prank, you're overreacting," he mocks in his best Dad Voice.

"Like hell," your mom seethes. "You're going to the ER." Gareth whines, but you expect this will be a nice documented event to bring up in court if the old man still insists on visitation after this debacle. You both agree to drink a full bottle of overpriced airport water in the car, in exchange for going to the hospital in Hawkins rather than the city. You want to go home, dammit.

Your luggage is collected, and you head out to the car. You and Eddie sit in the back, and you want desperately to lay your head on his shoulder and sleep the whole way home. But it's too hot. Your face hurts too bad. You settle on holding his hand loosely; your palm didn't get burned, at least. He uncaps your bottle every few minutes and reminds you to take a drink.

The visit to Hawkins Memorial Hospital doesn't take long. The nurse makes you both chug another bottle of water while you wait, and the doctor quickly diagnoses you with sun poisoning. You are sentenced to several weeks of aloe, rest, and staying indoors. No one in your party has any objections.

When you finally get home, Eddie helps you get your clothes off while your mom helps your brother. It's ten times harder and more painful than usual. He coats you with aloe and puts you to bed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. Your sheets scratch. Your skin burns. You can't stop crying.

"What's the matter?" he asks, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"It's stupid," you cry.

"Tell me anyway."

"All I want is for you to hold me but you're too hot and I'm a lobster and I'm going to crack and peel and die."

Eddie snorts, and you cry harder. He lies down in your bed, on the edge so he's not touching you. All you've thought about for days is in your grasp, and you can't touch him. It's cruel and unusual and it's not fair.

"I'm right here. The burn will fade in a week or two. Then we can get back to being all over each other and grossing everyone out, and all will be right with the world."

You let out a strange sob-laugh sound, and it makes him smile. A chill causes your whole body to shiver.

"How are we doing in here?" your mom asks from the doorway.

"Fine," you lie.

"She's crying and shivering," Eddie tells her.

"Traitor," you mumble.

"I brought painkillers and a glass of water," your mom says. Eddie sits up to receive her gifts. "Don't let her sleep until she drains that."

"Yes, ma'am."

You sit up long enough to take your pills and drink your water, then fall asleep next to the Eddie you can't touch.

You wake to the unmistakable sound of your mother giving her ex-husband a piece of her mind. Eddie's eyes are as round as saucers while you listen together; you've never heard her this mad before. There are curses, there are threats, and finally, the sound of a phone being slammed back onto the base. The house is plunged back into a heavy silence. You stare at each other for a moment, not daring to make a sound.

"If she ever yells at me like that, I'm gonna be crying and apologizing and trying to make it up to her for the rest of my life," he whispers.

"I've never heard her yell at anyone but him like that," you smile. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Thank fuck," he breathes.

"You guys awake?"

You and Eddie both jump at her soft voice in the doorway.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckles. "You're due for another pill and about a gallon of water. Would you like some pancakes with it? You slept through breakfast. And lunch."

"Sure," you answer, stretching and immediately regretting it.

"A fresh coat of aloe will make it easier to move," she advises.

"On it," Eddie says, rolling out of bed to get it.

"I'm gonna go see if Gareth managed to sleep through that, then I can fill my little fugitives in on all the trouble they've caused." She laughs to herself and proceeds down the hallway.

She recapped the phone call over pancakes. Your father got his credit card back… and a bill so massive, Gareth's likely off the hook for any remaining court-ordered visits. The old man ranted about you two ruining his family vacation, and hurting the step-monster's feelings, and ignoring the step-demons, and being surly and secretive the whole time, and stealing from him, and of course the cost of the plane tickets… but somehow, the icing on the cake was that you'd left the McDonald's receipt in the envelope with his change. "How could anyone spend that much money on garbage masquerading as food?!" You all had a good laugh over that one, then went back to bed. Doctor's orders.

For the next two weeks, you happily holed up in your dark basement with your brother and your boyfriend and sometimes your friends, watching movies and eating junk and drinking all the water you could hold. You still insisted on listening to your Eddie Tape every night, but with him next to you, your answers to the "how was your day" questions were much happier. After about a week, you declared yourself cleared for cuddling, and started to make up for lost time.

Gareth was so happy to be home, he didn't even complain.

Much.

[brbsoulnomming]

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

-----

The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

[team-118]

don't wanna ruin the moment

790 words, buddie, pre-relationship/gen, 4×12 Treasure Hunt missing scene

Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

read it on ao3.

the lovely @queerweewoo and @userbuddie had tagged me for snippets in the past couple weeks and I'd had nothing to show, so this one's for y'all.

"Five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five," Eddie says as he climbs into the jeep.

"Hm?" Buck backs out of the dark road they parked on, hand rested on the familiar spot behind the neck of the passenger seat. Eddie leans into it out of habit.

"The treasure. Five million divided by nine; it's five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five."

Buck whistles lowly. "Well, it's not a million something-something, but it's better than nothing." He pulls the jeep into line behind Athena's car, waving at Hen and Chimney in his rearview.

"Mm. If we find it," Eddie sighs.

"We'll find it," Buck grins, confident, bordering cocky. "With the 118 on the job? Better watch out, Hollis Harcourt."

Eddie laughs. He rolls the window down, letting the cool night air rush into the car. Things have been heavy, lately - good, but heavy: getting Chris on board with Ana, Chris chartering an Uber and running off, but at least it was to Buck. This feels like home, wind against his cheeks and Buck next to him, sandwiched in the middle of the rest of the 118. Whatever else they find tonight, God, he's grateful to have this.

They drive in silence for a while, until Eddie starts fiddling with the bluetooth and Buck busts into laughter when he plays the Mission: Impossible theme. It's so stupid. Eddie's cheeks kind of ache from smiling.

"How'd you know that?" Buck asks, once he's calmed down.

"Know what?"

"That math thing."

"I know math," Eddie defends.

"Yeah, but five million divided by nine?"

"Mm. There's, like, a rule," Eddie muses. "Something like, if the number is divisible by 10, then dividing it by 9 is the first digit of that number a bunch of times, with one less place value."

Buck furrows his brows, like he’s trying to do it in his head.

"300 divided by 9 is 33.3. 400 divided by 4 is 44.4," Eddie shrugs. "I don't know, it was in Chris's math homework."

What Eddie doesn't bring up is that it was Ana who taught him that. That he'd kissed her on her couch, in between fourth grade math problems and bites of the dinner she'd made, and it had felt...nice, he guesses. Good. It's been a while since he's kissed anyone, and Shannon was only his second or third kiss, and Ana tasted so different but felt just the same. Cherry lips instead of strawberry, but still soft and warm. He still resisted the teenage urge to wipe his mouth on his hand afterwards.

But he doesn't mention it, because Buck would ask, and then his stupid lie about construction on Sunset would fall apart and Buck would know he's kissed someone and God, wouldn't that be weird? And anyway, that's not who he wants to be right now.

Not Eddie, maybe betraying Shannon's memory and maybe hurting his son and maybe not being the greatest boyfriend, after all this time. Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

"Almost there," Buck says finally, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts. "I think we beat the others by a bit. See, aren't you glad I drove?"

"I'm always glad when you drive," Eddie grins. "Saves me so much gas."

Buck reaches over the dash and flicks his temple. "Just for that, I'm taking half your cut."

"You wouldn't," Eddie gasps, mocking.

"Oh, yeah, freeloader," Buck teases. "And I'll use it to bribe Chris into teaching me your secret, mathematical ways."

"They're really not a secret. I could teach you, if you really wanted."

"Ah, but if my calculations are correct, your numbers are wrong," Buck says, swinging the Jeep through a sharp left into Harcourt's quiet neighborhood. He taps his nose knowingly, looks at Eddie, and smirks. "Five and above, you gotta round up. It should be point six."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Semantics."

"Details! They're important," Buck insists as they pull into the driveway. "Math teachers can't tell you everything, you know. You'll still need me around."

Buck doesn’t know about that night, but he knows about Ana. Of course he does.

"I'll always need you around," Eddie tells him, probably a little more honestly than warranted. But then Buck is smiling over the parking brake, and that makes it worth it. Eddie holds eye contact until Hen's headlights appear in the rearview, and then he hops out.

"I mean," he says, grinning over the hood. "Who else is gonna drive me to the treasure?"

Then Eddie's own laughter is drowning out Buck's groan, and he grabs his best friend’s hand and pulls him to Hollis Harcourt's gate.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Dragon!Steve and mercenary!Eddie.

Steve Harrington was a dragon.

Once upon a time, he would kidnap a princess, imprison her in his tower, guard the said tower, and await his doom delivered by a knight in shining armor.

But this wasn't that kind of fairy tale. No, in this story, Steve and the princess were friends. Her lover was a fae who was his platonic soulmate, and the knight in shining armor was his brother in arms.

Still, no one, even Steve himself, foreseen it when a handsome mercenary arrived at his tower and stole his heart.

Steve never felt so adored in his long and boring life, but Edwyn "Eddie" Munson managed to do the impossible.

The man was good with his words, even better with his fingers when he scratched the itchy spots beneath Steve's scales and drew runes of protection and love on Steve's human body.

Eddie was also an attentive lover who brought Steve sparkly gifts every time he visited the tower.

In turn, Steve let the mercenary ride on his back in their adventures, let the man guide him to wherever he was pleased, and let himself be consumed in the amorous looks Eddie would give him when the man thought he didn't notice.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had been suspicious at first about Eddie's true motive. They worried that the mercenary would betray Steve because, despite his peaceful nature, Steve was the most powerful of his kind. And frankly, many had hunted him throughout his life given that even a piece of his scales cost a fortune in black markets.

Their concern was warranted, Steve supposed, but he trusted Eddie to not do him harm. Yet, sometimes, when Steve couldn't sleep at night, he would think about the worst and decide that if Eddie asked, he would give the man everything.

After all, Eddie already had his heart.

In the end, Eddie only asked of him a vial of his blood to cure Wayne's illness.

The day the truth came out was when Eddie approached him and stated that his uncle couldn't wait any longer.

Steve could see the desperation and hope in those chocolate eyes that he so loved, and knew for certain that Eddie wouldn't fight him but would be on his knees and beg until he agreed to help.

Before things could go any worse, Steve decided to take the matter into his own hands. Literally.

"So you had approached me because of my blood," Steve smiled wryly at the sting of the betrayal as he let Eddie dress the gash on his forearm. They both knew the cut would heal in a few minutes, but Steve didn't turn down Eddie's help. Couldn't.

"You should know that I didn't only have your blood in mind," Eddie fastened the bandage's knot securely.

"What? Are you asking for my organs next?" Steve huffed out a bitter laugh. "I heard they're quite useful ingredients for rituals and potions."

"No," Eddie met his eyes calmly and guided Steve's hand to rest on his chest. "Please listen to the song of my heart and do know that it is never a lie when I say this: I've been wanting all of you for myself since I first laid eyes on you."

Steve blinked rapidly in bewilderment and awe. Every dragon had an innate talent, and Steve's was the ability to see only the truth.

Thus, when Eddie opened himself up so freely like that, Steve could also see the man's deepest desire. And what he saw made him blush terribly. This man was truly hopeless.

"You never do anything in half, do you?" Steve snorted.

"Once Uncle Wayne gets better, I will return to the tower and never leave your side again," Eddie held his hand tightly as if fearing he would take it back and peppered feathery kisses on his knuckles.

Those words sung true to Steve's heart. Yet, he also sensed the wordless yearning from his lover. There was only one way, wasn't it?

"I'll go with you, then. I think it's time for you to introduce me to your family."

"Are you sure?"

Looking at Eddie's hopeful eyes, Steve leaned in to kiss the love of his life soundly.

"As sure as gold."

They both chuckled fondly at the memory together. After all, the first thing Eddie had given him upon their meeting was a sparkling bar of gold.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Your wish is my command!

(There's less comfort here and more hurt than I planned, and then the sexual tension snuck in, oh my ...)

A deal with the devil

Rated: T

Words: 980

Tags: Pirate AU; Pirate Eddie; castaway Steve; Billy Hargrove being an asshole; Steve Harrington whump; dehydration; non-consensual bondage; sexual tension; sexual innuendo

The water runs out before the first day is through.

They gave him a single skin of it. That, and a blunt knife to ward off the sharks.

“To tide you over until you find land or a kind soul to aid you,” Hargrove winked, patting his cheek as the boat began to lower. “I'm not a monster, pretty boy.”

Steve said nothing. There is no land for hundreds of miles. They passed the last ship three days ago. They both knew this.

He refused to touch the water at first, even as the sun burnt his skin and his tongue began to feel like a piece of cotton in his mouth. He knew it would only prolong the inevitable. But the human instinct for survival is a dumb thing, and with the sun at its zenith and the ocean blurring into the sky all around him, he eventually pressed the skin to his cracked lips, emptying it with three greedy gulps.

He doesn’t know how long ago that was. It feels like weeks, even though the rational part of him knows it can't have been more than a day or two. He's been drifting in and out of consciousness, though, and it's hard to tell.

Not like it matters, he thinks, staring up at the deadly white disk overhead. He should shut his lids against the glare, but he can't even muster the energy to blink. His eyes should water from the light, but there's no liquid left in him. All he can do is lie here and hope that it will be quick now.

He slips into dreams. Voices filling his ears. A cold shadow enveloping him. Hands cradling him, combing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. Dark hair billowing around a pale, pretty face, like seaweed. A siren come to pull him into the depths, he thinks deliriously, to drag him into his wet grave and devour his flesh.

He doesn't mind.

It will be cool under the sea.

*

When he opens his eyes again, he's confused at first. Purgatory looks a lot different from what he expected. He thought there'd be fire, not linen pillows and brocade curtains. He also thought it'd smell like smoke and burning skin, not like wood and sea salt and gunpowder.

Steve shoots up with a strangled shout. The wet cloth on his forehead slips and lands next to the bed.

He's not in purgatory. He's on a ship. In the captain's quarters, if the curtained bed and lush carpets are anything to go by.

He's also been cuffed to the bed by one wrist.

His free hand instinctively gropes for the knife in his boot, only to find that it's gone.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

He freezes.

There's a man in the armchair beside the bed. Steve didn’t notice him before, because he was reclining into the cushions, but now he's leaning forward, dark eyes watching Steve from under a wide-brimmed hat. The rings on his fingers glint as he stacks his hands, resting his chin on them. Balanced between his fingers is the knife.

“That's mine,” Steve blurts. “Give it back.”

The man laughs.

“I saved your life out there, darling, be a little more grateful. I usually take a lot more from the vessels I encounter.”

Steve's stomach drops. Because now that the fog is slowly lifting from his mind, the man looks familiar. He's seen that face before, staring back at him from wanted posters in port towns.

“You're Edward Munson,” he mutters. “The pirate.”

“That's me,” Munson swoops into a bow. “Welcome aboard the Hellfire. Now, who do I have the pleasure with?”

Steve bites his bottom lip. That grin goes just a little wider.

“Nevermind,” Munson purrs. “I think I know.”

Steve remains silent, hoping the hammering of his racing heart will not betray him.

“The Marines are looking for a boy matching your description,” Munson continues, cleaning his nails with the knife. “Governor's son. Made off with one of daddy's ships to play pirates, it's the talk of-”

“No idea what you mean,” Steve snaps. “I'm a simple sailor who was in a shipwreck, I-”

Munson scoffs. “Alright then, sailor. Tell me why I shouldn't just turn you over? That reward is handsome, I could make good use of it.”

“Except you won't,” Steve says, and now it's his turn to measure the other man with a smug smile. “Can't spend that money without a head.”

Munson sighs.

“I just want a nice, easy life,” he whines theatrically. “What's wrong with that? You rob a few ships, seize a treasure or two, and suddenly people are out for your life. And yet, somehow, I am the abominable one here, imagine that!”

Steve stares at him. Munson clears his throat.

“Anyhow,” he then says. “Don't think I'll let you laze around in my bed forever. You want to stay, you apply yourself like everybody else.”

Steve wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but somehow that doesn't seem smart. Not with his only weapon in the guy's hand and nothing but water around them for days.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “I'll apply myself. I can mop the deck, help out in the kitchen, whatever you-”

Munson waves him off. “Nah, I got people for that.”

Steve scowls. “Then what-”

One ring-clad hand touches his jaw and the words die on his tongue.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” Munson winks at him. “We'll find something for you to do. Something to make my life just a little bit nicer and easier, right?”

Steve bites his tongue so hard he tastes copper, and nods. He only needs to hold out until they get to land and he can figure out a way to get his ship back.

If he needs to sell his soul to the Devil of the Hellfire to accomplish that, so be it.

Something, something, they fuck about it, fall in love, kick Billy's ass and take back Steve's ship, they become pirate husbands, the end.

More celebration ficlets

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[wanderingwomanwondering]

615 & 805 Cemetery Scenes

Fandom has already pointed out the fact that the scenes are parallel but I wanted to share my thoughts on exactly what that looked like and what it could mean moving forward.

In 615 Eddie mentioned Marie's line "We're all gonna die alone" from earlier in the ep. Buck then offered Eddie a little perspective and comfort saying that Marie was surrounded by friends and family. They got really real after Buck confessed that he feels different after the lightning strike. Eddie empathized and acknowledged that it made total sense that Buck felt different. He told Buck that he doesn't have to be any particular thing for anyone else and that "we're all different from one minute to the next". At the end of their talk, Buck pointedly noted that everyday since the lightning strike is "a gift".

The core themes were alienation and loneliness, and the healing power of connection and being seen by loved ones.

In 805, at the same cemetery but with Tommy this time, Buck talked to Billy Boils about the curse he put on him. He mentioned his arm injury and of course the boils. Buck made special mention of Tommy not wanting to kiss him. Tommy denied this but it seems safe to assume that Buck wouldn't have said it if Tommy had touched him at all up to that point. Anyway, the meat of Buck's eulogy for Billy was recognizing the "curse" as actually being "a cry for help". He realized that Billy was lonely because he was abandoned by his posse. Buck waxed on about how "our people" make for a life worth living - full of memories, help when we fall down, keeping us on the right path, and generally just being there. This scene's crescendo was when Buck said plainly "I can't imagine anything more painful than going through life alone". He then told Billy "I'm your posse now". Buck felt that by joining him, Billy could rest and that he'd lift the curse. On their way out of the cemetery, Tommy quietly echoed Buck's request that Billy lift the curse.

As convoluted as the Billy Boils metaphor was, the 805 cemetery scene with Buck and Tommy still had similar core themes to the 615 cemetery scene with Buck and Eddie. Loneliness, and the healing that comes with connection and being seen by others. Buck saw Billy in the end and that was what he felt could and would lift the curse.

Between the two scenes I'm especially fixated on a few key details:

Buck (805) and Eddie (615) were and still are wrestling with loneliness.

Buck was in a questionable relationship in 615 with Natalia and he's in one in 805 with Tommy.

Buck being distant from who he used to be in 615, distant from Tommy in 805, and Eddie looking isolated in the 805 montage

The loneliness common denominator in both scenes is actually Eddie. In 615 he's actually the one who brings up loneliness and in 805 his absence is actually louder than Tommy's mere distance.

The twist in the 805 Billy Boils subplot was the fact that Billy was actively **betrayed** by his posse. That element wasn't technically present in the 615 scene but I would argue that **betrayal** was implied because if Eddie's facial expressions were meant to be any indication in that episode, he felt some type of way about Buck feeling seen by Natalia when Eddie himself had been by Buck's side the whole time.

We saw Eddie taking the same trusted bestie role in 805 by going to the hospital with Buck and actively translating for him with Tommy when he came to visit. I think Eddie feels some type of way about Tommy too but he's Buck's bestie first and foremost so he just watches them when they aren't looking and interjects when necessary because he knows that Buck wants his relationship with Tommy to work. Yet, Eddie is mourning the fact that Chris is still gone and very upset with him pretty much all by himself since the start of season 8. Buck is with Eddie in spirit because how could he not be, still they haven't actually had any screen time where they've discussed it.

I'm hoping the anticipated 806 scene between them addresses Eddie's loneliness in the context of that grief and that Buck actively joins him. The other aspect of it that seems relevant is that Buck is actually pretty distant from Tommy. Pretty much all of Buck's bids for connection with Tommy get brushed off. If Buck does have a scene where he connects with Eddie over their shared Chris grief and Tommy knows about it, it could reveal the wedge between Buck and Tommy. They've already laid the groundwork for Tommy as an outsider/visitor looking in on the 118. A deep moment with Eddie and Buck that isn't played for jokes could force a BuckTommy conversation about the divide between them. Bonus points if all the crap from Tommy's past is also in the mix.

I've been having a hard time enjoying this season but this episode actually did deliver at least a few morsels to savor so I'm grateful for that.

[littlemissagrafina]

"Good news!"

This is so incredibly un-serious and stupid, I apologise. This is also only here because of one of those split screen reddit posts on tiktok, so the blame is entirely on that lmao

Look, it wasn't like Buck tried to get hurt. It wasn't as if he woke up and thought to himself “I'm going to get myself sent to the hospital this shift.” because, for the record, he did not do that.

He didn't enjoy it. Being hurt absolutely sucked ass not to mention how stir crazy he got when it was bad enough to be booked off for a few days. Buck wasn't against days off, he looked forward to them, even, when their mandatory scheduled time off came around and he and Eddie could spend time at home and have lazy mornings in bed.

But when he was stuck at home with nothing to do, Chris at school and Eddie working shifts that Buck should have been working with him… well, it was those times that Buck didn't like. 

It had been a pretty good run since that had happened, though. The last time was two months before when he'd cracked a few ribs after being slammed into a cliff face during a rope rescue. But he'd healed well and he'd healed fast, his health the best it had been in recent years, probably since before the bombing, tsunami, and embolism.

Hell, Bobby had even put up a little white board in the loft kitchen to keep track. Buck was pretty proud of the blocky red words written out in Bobby's handwriting, “Buck has worked ‘65’ days without injury”.

Eager to add another day to the number on the board, Buck followed Eddie out the door, locking up behind them before they left to battle the work commute. LA traffic stopped for no one, no matter what time it was.

-

The calls they'd been sent on by dispatch had been pretty easy and slow so far. They'd had one major injury call near the start of shift but Hen and Chim had gotten the patient patched up and at the hospital I'm good time. After that, things had been slow. He refused to say the Q-word, not after that shift from his probie year or that time Ravi betrayed them, but if he could, that's the word he would use to describe their shift up to that point.

So obviously it wouldn't stay that way.

They all made a break for the truck, grabbing turnouts and leaving their half eaten lunch at the table as the alarm rang out.

“Word from dispatch is a 2 alarm fire near the warehouse district in a small clothing factory. A dozen employees have been evacuated, most had been taking lunch and made it out as soon as they noticed the fire, 3 are reported unaccounted for and were last seen near the south emergency exit.” Bobby's voice crackled out through their headsets.

“The squad on-site, station 143, can't spare any more firefighters to search for the missing people thanks to the acceleration of the fire. We've been called in for that, and for any help in fighting the fire.” Bobby continued, looking over his shoulder at all of them. “We also have advanced orders from the IC. Buck, you and I will head out with Eddie and Ravi, we're going around to the south exit to start searching, do not get separated from your partner. Hen, Chimney, you’ll follow with oxygen and medical supplies.”

The truck rolled to a stop and they were out, securing turnouts and double checking their masks and oxygen supplies. The four of them set off around the building, keeping out of the way from the hoses and the house already on scene, Bobby calling their arrival out from the radio and echoing their orders from the IC.

Just before they turned the corner, Buck saw Chim and Hen setting out their supplies. It wouldn't be more than a minute before they joined them.

He fell into action with Bobby as they reached the exit, breaking down the doors as they partnered off and started searching. The heat was oppressive, even through their turnouts, and his hope for the 3 trapped people withered slightly. He shared a grim look with Bobby, but let everything fall away with the firm grip that settled on his shoulder for a moment. A split second later, they moved forward. focused on the call.

“LAFD call out!” Bobby bellowed above the crackling of the fire, Buck echoing him.

“If you can hear us, call out!”

They searched knowing time was running out, Eddie and Ravi's own call outs ringing back from their side of the search. Chimney and Hen's joined them quickly.

Just as they turned back out, heading the evacuation orders called out over the radios, Buck heard a weak voice over the crackling of the ever growing flames. He whipped around catching sight of a figure huddled down between large tables, storage cupboards and a brick outcropping. 

He had no clue how they'd missed them but shoved forward, grateful they were found now.

“There!” He yelled, sprinting off towards them, ignoring the calls from behind him.

Relief flooded him, as he got closer. There wasn't just one figure, but another two, all of them huddled tightly together.

In seconds, he had one of them hoisted up over his shoulder, Bobby and Eddie catching up and doing the same as soon as he moved away.

Just as quickly as they'd found them, the team turned and all sprinted for the door, Buck falling a step behind to let them file out first. They were just out of it when the building groaned, the doorway crumbling as Buck ran through. He angled himself over the person in his grasp, something hard hitting the back of his head and back as he did. The impact made him stumble, pain striking through where he'd been hit as hands steadied him and pulled him forward as stars burst in his vision.

He shook it off and only stopped once they'd gotten back to where the trucks and ambulances had been set up, his heart beating fast as he panted, adrenalin still rushing through him. They had the rescued employees set up with oxygen in no time, all three were a little smokey and a lot tender from the heat of the fire on their unprotected skin, but seemed unharmed enough.

Buck's head swam as he stepped back towards the 118's truck, and he took a moment to steady himself. Yeah, ouch. Feeling something start to hurt as an adrenaline surge faded was not something Buck recommended. To anyone.

He quickly sat at the side of the truck, wincing when the aching spot on his back pressed against the metal, his head throbbing. Before he could blink, Hen was in front of him, the rest of them stood to the side, out of her way.

“That was a hard hit, Buck. I'm checking you over, but as soon as the scene is cleared I want you looked over by a doctor and checked out properly.”

Buck frowned, but knew better than to argue at this point. “Hospital?”

“Hospital.” They all echoed back at once.

-

“C'mon, guys, I'm fine!” Buck grumbled from where he sat, legs hanging over the side of a hospital bed with Eddie leaning against the railing, the rest of the team stood around the room. 

They'd all been at the hospital with him enough times that the nurses knew them and just let them all wait in the room with him. They always said it made it easier to clean up after the team if they'd had to show up dirty from a call, but Eddie minted that they'd all just grown fond of Buck.

“My head is barely even hurting anymore, I think I'm familiar enough with concussions that I can tell whether or not I have one at this point.” 

He didn't mention his back. Which yes, did ache, probably would ache for a while, but had been relatively protected by his turnouts. The skin hadn't even been broken by whatever debris had hit him. There was no need to be checked over by a doctor. He was fine.

His statement of such paired with his concussion free self diagnosis wasn't met with consensus he always hoped for, though.

As if they'd practiced it, the team all leveled an unimpressed look at Buck, Bobby taking it a step further by threatening to call Athena in from her shift to make sure that he stayed put until they heard back from a doctor.

Buck pouted but resigned himself to sitting quietly and waiting. Maybe if he listened, he'd get off easier back at the station.

He wondered if he could convince Bobby to make that lemon tart of his.

-

“Great news, you're not pregnant!” 

Hen choked and Buck all but fell off the bed, as his head whipped towards the doorway, which was pretty stupid of him he had to admit. His head was still sore, as it turned out. Not that he'd admit it.

Dr Clara Morrison, looked up, from the chart in her hand and met his eyes. “Oh, fuck. Wrong patient.” He heard her mutter under her breath before realisation over who was in the room washed over her face. 

“Oh! Hi, Buck! You're back again?” She grinned, stepping fully into the room and flicking to another page on her chart. “I guess that's still applicable to you, so, great news! You're not pregnant!”

Hen absolutely lost it, loud cackles filling the room and if the expressions on Eddie and Chim's face were anything to go by, they were seconds away from joining her.

Bobby's face, though? That was pure gold. If Buck had his phone with him, he would take a picture to remember it.

The captain's eyes just about bugged out of his face, as he paled, before he shook himself with a bewildered look. Buck just caught sight of Hen slipping her phone back in the pocket of her turnouts with a smirk so he turned his attention back to Dr Morrison.

He snorted at the bright amusement in her eyes, mind flickering over her statement and thought to himself ‘Not for lack of enthusiasm.’

Which ended up not actually being thought to himself or in his head. Maybe his concussion wasn't as non-existent as he wanted, because his apparently audible proclamation was received by Eddie choking, a dramatic “Eugh!” from Chimney, more cackling from Hen, and Bobby turning his head to the ceiling with a very tired and blank expression. It almost looked like the man was searching for the meaning of his existence between the cracks of the ceiling tiles.

Clara, though, Clara laughed almost as loud as Hen. Slapping the chart in her hands against her thigh as she giggled.

“You, Buck, are my favourite patient even though we see you here way too often. Also ten points to Eddie for trying.”

Buck grinned, unashamed as he held up a fist which Clara dutifully bumped.

“Okay! Moving on!” Eddie seemed to have recovered, though his face was beet red and he decidedly wasn't looking anywhere other than towards Buck or Clara. “Is he really fine or just fudging things to avoid being called off work?” 

Clara's manner settled back to a more professional one, though you could still see the humour in her eyes. “He definitely has a concussion, but it's only mild grade. I wouldn't say he needs to be booked off, but if he comes into any shifts, he's not allowed on calls for a few days and he needs to rest.” She looked over the chart as she spoke.

Buck could see the way everyone listened closely to her and groaned but didn't protest. Not being booked off was a win, even if he knew that Bobby would be making him man behind for the next few shifts.

“His back is also fine, might be sore for a bit, though it's just superficial bruising and he should only experience some stiffness.” 

Clara pointed a finger at Buck, her expression stern. “We joke about it, but I expect you to listen to the literal doctor's orders. As much as us staff like you, seeing you around here so often isn't good for anyone's health. Rest, let your body heal, and take it easy.”

Buck nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”

Clara narrowed her eyes at him before nodding and jutting her thumb back towards the door. “I'll go get started on his discharge papers for you guys, the sooner you get him out the less trouble he might find trying to break out.”

-

The end of their shift came around barely a half hour after they got back to the station, so they all took advantage of the leftover time that they weren't on call to get their work settled before they could leave.

Which, for Bobby, meant paperwork. Specifically the incident paperwork that usually ended up with Buck's name being written on. So for paperwork, it went pretty fast, with Bobby only needing Buck's signature at this point, already having any other details for it memorised.

With 10 minutes still left on their shift, he grabbed a pen and the forms and left his office in search of the younger man. He quickly found him and the rest of the team gathering their duffle bags and belongings in the locker room.

Or rather, Hen, Chim, and Eddie were gathering their things. Buck sat frowning on the bench as Eddie stuffed things into two duffles, obviously having banned Buck from doing anything.

Bobby handed the forms and pen to Buck. “Signature, Kid. You know the drill.”

With a sigh and a flourish, the aforementioned forms and pen were back in his hand, and Bobby was almost ready to gather his own things to leave. He paused for a moment though, frowning. 

Bobby rested a careful hand over Buck's head and gently angled it to look where he knew there was a pretty sizable bump hiding under gelled curls.

“I'm fine, Bobby. I promise. It only hurts if I touch it, and Eddie isn't letting me do much anyway.” Buck consoled earnestly.

Bobby hummed, letting go of some of the lingering tension in his shoulders. The last thing he needed was his own back acting up. 

“Good. Listen to Eddie, okay? Captain's orders. Let him take care of you.”

“Will do, Cap.” Buck nodded but there was a glint in his eye, and Bobby's words replayed in his mind. It clicked for the others, too, and there was another round of laughter from Hen and groans from Chim and Eddie.

Bobby just shook his head. “You know what I mean.” He shot back before turning and leaving the locker room. He had paperwork and a pen to return. Submitting the report could be left for the next shift captain.

-

Bobby had just settled into bed, resting back against the pillows with hair that was still slightly damp when Athena walked in. She’d been on the phone to Hen while he'd gotten ready for the night, eager to sleep off the shift.

“So,” His wife smirked at him, sliding under the covers. “What exactly did those loveable idiots on your team that we call family do to leave you with this expression?” She gestured with her phone still in her hand and Bobby smothered a groan, head thunking back against the headboard when he caught sight of the picture of him from Buck’s hospital room. Hen’s open chat was more than enough for Bobby to know who took it.

“You would think that someone under my employment would have more respect for me.” He grumbled.

Athena only laughed. “Baby, you knew that Hen defers to me on all things gossip long before we ever got together. Don’t play now.”

“I forgot.” He admitted.

Athena raised a brow. “You forgot? Forgot what?”

“That Buck can’t get pregnant.”

There was a pause before, much like the team earlier, Athena started laughing.

He sighed, deep and resigned. No one was ever going to let him live this down.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Seen

A Stancy fanfiction

It had taken Steve a while to figure out why he didn't like that conversation with Dustin. Well, about ten minutes. It was longer than necessary. It wasn't just about him being jealous that Dustin talked so much about Eddie or that Steve didn't want to participate in Hellfire because he wasn't sure he would be good at it. Them looking for another member for their club tonight meant that Dustin and Mike weren't going to show up for Lucas, which didn't make any sense to him considering what they all went through. By the end of his shift, Steve was furious. He ended up turning Brenda down. . .gently, though, and driving off to the school.

"Do they understand how important this is to Lucas?" Steve asked with a sigh. "Basketball is just as important as D&D. . .do they get that? No! Because sports are bad because of a few assholes. Hang out with Eddie. He's so cool. . .he gets us, unlike you, Steve. You're just a dumb jock and now you're turning Lucas into a dumb jock. . .no, this isn't about me!"

He stormed into the school and was walking angrily towards the drama room when he saw Nancy coming from the opposite direction. She looked just as angry as he was. They paused for a moment, staring at each other before meeting in the middle.

"What are you doing here?" Nancy and Steve asked in unison.

"Uh, Dustin called me to ask if I wanted to join Hellfire tonight," Steve said.

"Mike asked me if I wanted to join Hellfire tonight," Nancy said.

"Man, as smart as they are, our brothers are just as dumb," Steve said, and Nancy snorted. "It took me a minute to realize that it meant they weren't going to bother showing up for Lucas tonight."

"They can postpone, Lucas can't," Nancy said.

"Exactly, so I say we team up and go in there together like a united front, really make them piss their pants," Steve said.

"You make us sound like divorced parents," Nancy said in amusement.

"Aren't we?" Steve asked, and Nancy laughed. "Nance, we're supposed to be angry."

"Right."

They both squared their shoulders, put on their game faces, and stormed through the double doors. They slammed open, banging loudly against the walls. Steve felt a moment of satisfaction when he heard them all scream. They moved to the middle of the room where everyone was sitting around the table, including Erica. Eddie Munson was sitting on a throne. Of course. Steve sent Erica a disappointed look before focusing back on the others. Mike and Dustin had the decency to look scared shitless.

"Oh my god!" Dustin screamed. "They're both together and they both look pissed. We're dead!"

"Relax, Henderson, what are Nancy Wheeler and the fallen king of Hawkins High going to do?" Eddie asked.

"He doesn't know," Dustin hissed to Mike.

"No, he's right," Mike rolled his eyes. "They're not going to hurt us."

"Is that what you think?" Nancy asked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We're playing Dungeon & Dragons like we do every Friday," Mike rolled his eyes.

"Lucas's game is tonight, why aren't you there supporting him?" Steve asked, his hands on his hips. "I thought your friendship meant something."

"Clearly, our friendship doesn't mean anything to him considering that Lucas went to the Dark Side," Mike said. "He's the one betraying us."

"That's really hypocritical of you, considering that you promised Will before he left for California that you guys wouldn't join another party," Nancy said. "And yet, here you are, in another party."

"You promised Will that we wouldn't join another party?!" Dustin asked. "Will asked us not to join another party?"

"Yeah, so, you promised Steve that you wouldn't leave him for someone else and you left him for Jonathan. How long was it after you ended things with Steve that you jumped into bed with Jonathan?" Mike asked.

Mike regretted it as soon as he said it. Everyone in the room gasped as guilt flooded Mike's face. Steve was hurt and furious that he had brought that up, but then he remembered that he was a traumatized teenager being cornered by his older sister and his sister's ex-boyfriend, who was also his babysitter. Steve took a breath, but Nancy was angrier than he had ever seen her. Her nostrils flared wide.

"Mike. Run. Run as fast as you can," Dustin whispered, looking afraid for Mike's life.

Mike slowly stood up and backed away. Nancy dove for him and he took off, running around the table, shrieking loudly. She was pretty fast for someone so short but even with Mike's long legs, she managed to catch up to him. She kicked him in the back of the leg, sending him to the ground, and pressed her foot into his back. She turned to Dustin and Erica.

"This is important to Lucas. He asked you all to be there and you rejected him. Liking basketball isn't a terrible thing. You are judging him just like those assholes out there are judging you for liking D&D," Nancy said furiously.

"Do you know how scared he was to tell you that he liked basketball?" Steve asked. "He was completely terrified because he didn't think that you would understand, and he turned out to be right. He might not have joined for the right reasons, but not wanting to be bullied anymore is perfectly understandable. Sometimes you just want it to stop . . . but him playing basketball isn't just about that. He knows what's going to happen when the others find out that he also likes D&D, and he wants you guys there as backup when it does happen. He was also afraid that you would replace him with someone else and look what you did. . .you replaced him with his sister!"

"How do you know all that?" Dustin asked softly.

"Because I was the one who's been with him when he wanted someone to practice with. I was the one who listened to his fears of losing his best friends in the entire world because he discovered his love of basketball. He wanted to be able to enjoy both games, but it turns out, the people who are supposed to be the most understanding turns out to be bullying jackasses just like those assholes out there!" Steve yelled at them. "It's not the end of the world if you postpone it for one fucking night!"

Steve didn't realize how much he would regret those words later on but the rest of it, he didn't regret. He would never regret fighting for Lucas Sinclair or any of those damn kids.

"I'm innocent in all of this," Erica said. "I was coerced."

"Erica!" Steve scolded. "Look, I know you don't like basketball, but it's not the enemy here, just like D&D isn't. Lucas just needs to know that you've got his back when he needs it. That's all he's asking for, and I don't think it's too much to ask. Man, all Lucas is trying to do is figure shit out. I'm not saying that you have to like basketball or anything, but just let Lucas know that you still love him. He's family, right? That's more important than popularity or deciding which game is better."

"Yeah," Dustin and Mike said.

It was in that moment that Steve realized that Nancy was staring at him. He locked eyes with her and smiled. It was the first real interaction that he's had with Nancy since the breakup. It was the first time in a long time that he's seen her look at him like that. He felt that familiar tug in his stomach and the familiar fluttering of his heart. He finally realized what those people he had gone out with were missing: they weren't Nancy Wheeler. No one would ever come close. That future he had dreamed of once upon a time that had held Nancy Wheeler was now back again and this time, it wasn't going to be driven to the back of his mind especially since he knew that Nancy cared about these kids as much as he did.

"Steve's right, it's just one night," Nancy said. "His friends and his sister should be there to cheer him on."

"Even though he's just on the bench and I'm going to California tomorrow for spring break?" Mike asked.

"Nothing's going to happen between now and then to stop you from picking it back up when you get back," Nancy said.

"Was Sinclair really afraid of us?" Eddie asked Steve.

Steve looked up at him, looking into his expressive brown eyes and sighed.

"Yeah," Steve said.

Eddie rubbed his forehead and looked down as he thought about it, clearly thinking about everything that they had said.

"This is supposed to be a place for kids like him to come to when they don't have anywhere else to go. . .when they're scared. . .I don't want them to ever be afraid of me judging them," Eddie said. "I was trying so hard not to let those assholes put me into a box that I put Lucas into a box! Jesus H Christ. . .it's just one night, right?"

"Don't want him to only conform to D&D, right?" Steve asked.

"I'm older, I'm in charge, I should be the one setting good examples for the little sheep," Eddie sighed. "I should be the one to make it easier for him to be able to enjoy both games. Because it's not the game, just the assholes in them?"

"Right," Steve said with a snort. "There's an asshole in every group."

"I'm sorry," Mike said and paused. "Can you get your foot out of my back now?"

Nancy snorted and took her foot off his back.

"It was a shitty thing that you said, Michael," Nancy said as he sat up.

"I'm sorry, okay. . .I was trying to hold onto the things that reminded me of Will and El. I just didn't want anyone to take that away from me, and I didn't just want it to disappear," Mike said. "I just miss them, and I shouldn't have brought up your past like that, especially knowing how guilty you feel."

"You're still an asshole," Nancy said with a sigh. "And I miss Jonathan, too, even though we broke up."

"You and Jonathan broke up?" Steve asked.

"Yes," Nancy said, smiling as he struggled to not look so happy.

"Sorry," Steve said.

"Are you, though?" She asked in amusement.

"No," he blushed.

Nancy and Steve locked eyes again. She smirked before turning to Mike.

"You're still grounded," Nancy said.

"Bullshit! You don't have the power to ground me! You're not my father - I mean my mother!" Mike exclaimed.

"Mom and Dad gave me the power when I turned eighteen," Nancy replied.

"I don't believe it," Mike scowled.

"You heard your father, Michael," Steve said with a smirk.

"Oh, so I guess that makes you my mommy," Mike scowled.

"Could you, I don't know, be less of a teenager?" Steve asked, and Mike rolled his eyes. "You know, if you keep doing that, eventually, your eyes are going to get stuck that way."

"Let's go," Nancy said, pointing towards the door and snapping her finger. "All of you."

Erica rolled her eyes before stomping out the door. Dustin looked extremely guilty before following after her with Mike behind him. Dustin paused on his way out the door.

"We didn't mean to hurt Lucas. We were just trying not to lose what we loved to do," Dustin said. "We didn't want to become something that we aren't, and we thought that Lucas was doing that."

"He is doing that, but a way of like getting him not to do that is to have someone like you guys to remember what's truly important," Steve said. "All of you needed to remember that."

He poked Dustin in the chest, right where his heart was located.

"And Eddie, he just - " Dustin started.

"He knows what it's like to feel different," Steve said.

"Yeah," Dustin said.

"Well, newsflash, Henderson," Steve said. "Everyone feels different even people like me. There's no such thing as normal, just people who pretend that they are. We're all freaks, and I am okay with being one myself. More than okay, actually."

Steve smiled proudly, and Dustin copied the grin. Dustin walked ahead with Mike and Erica as the maneuvered down the hallway towards the gym.

"So," Eddie's voice popped up beside him. "What makes Steve Harrington a freak?"

"Oh, you have to be a higher level to unlock that information," Steve grinned and then laughed at Eddie's surprised face. "I do know some things."

"Okay, so how high are we talking about?" Eddie asked. "And does Nancy know?"

"Oh. . .very high. Nancy doesn't know that she knows," Steve said with a shrug.

"What?" Nancy asked, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Oh! That makes so much sense!"

The rest of Hellfire was trailing behind them. Steve smiled over his shoulder at Jeff, who winked at him.

"I'm sorry, do you know Jeff?" Eddie asked.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," Steve said.

"You know, I really wanted to hate you," Eddie said, scowling.

"I told you that he might not be that bad," Jeff said.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me that you knew from experience," Eddie said to Jeff before turning back to Steve. "Anyway! What you did back there. . .you clearly did for those kids. . .you care about them a lot, especially Dustin. He talks about you all of the time."

"He does?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, the butthead worships you," Eddie said. "It's kind of annoying, really."

"He worships you, too, you know," Steve grinned.

"Yeah. . .not that I care what the little shrimp thinks," Eddie said, blushing. "I was super jealous as hell, by the way."

He leaned into Steve’s space, testing his boundaries. Steve laughed and pushed Eddie away.

"Yeah, I was jealous of you, too," Steve said. "Dustin's been like my brother since he kidnapped me a couple of years ago."

"He kidnapped you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, he was standing there looking at me, desperately needing my help. With those damn eyes of his. . .what was I supposed to do? Say no?" Steve scoffed. "I never had a brother before until I met Dustin and his friends. Or knew what it felt like. Always kind of wanted one. I'm glad I found one in Dustin."

"Yeah, me too, man," Eddie said softy.

"That's really very sweet," Nancy said. "But hey, if anyone wants a brother, you two can have mine."

"Oh, man, I thought you were going to kill the little shit for what he said," Eddie grinned.

"If she had her gun with her, she probably would have," Steve said.

"Nancy Wheeler has a gun?" Eddie asked in surprise.

"More than one," Nancy said proudly.

"Yeah, she almost shot me with one of them," Steve laughed.

"And you almost deserved it," Nancy said, and he grinned.

"Yeah, well," Steve said softly.

"Man, I don't know what happened between you two, but if I were you two, I wouldn't waste a single moment. . .life is hard and fucking short. Never know how much time you've got left," Eddie said. "The way you two barged in there together. . .unambiguous sign of true love, I swear."

"Is Eddie Munson a romantic?" Nancy asked teasingly.

"Maybe. . . But don't you dare tell anyone," Eddie said. "I'm also a sucker for second chances."

They were almost to the gym doors when someone popped out of the nearby bathroom. It was Chrissy Cunningham.

"Oh, hey Steve, Nancy, it's good to see you two together again," Chrissy smiled, and then her eyes landed on Eddie, causing her grin to widen. "Eddie! Are you going to the game?!"

"Looks like it," Eddie said.

"Oh, that's great! I hoped you'd come somehow," Chrissy said.

"You did?" Eddie asked, bewildered. "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

"Oh, well, I just broke up with Jason. Best decision that I ever made. I decided that I deserved better," Chrissy replied.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but you totally do," Eddie said.

Chrissy smiled, blushing. She reached up suddenly, cupping his cheek with her hand. Eddie sucked in a breath as she wiped her thumb under his eye. She pulled back and held out her thumb to his lips.

"You had an eyelash, make a wish," Chrissy said.

Eddie stared at her.

"Uh, I wish for - "

"No, silly, you can't say your wish outloud!" Chrissy giggled.

"Oh, right, of course," he laughed and rolled his eyes before blowing on her thumb. "There!"

"Do you think it's going to come true?" Chrissy asked.

"I certainly hope so," he said.

"I'll see you in there?" Chrissy asked.

"Yeah, definitely," Eddie said.

Chrissy smiled and bounced into the gym. Steve watched as Eddie stared after her, pulling his hair in front of his face. He grinned.

"Well, that was the cutest thing that I have ever witnessed," Steve said.

"Agreed," Nancy said.

"I have no thoughts in my brain. What's my name again?" He asked. "Where the hell am I?"

Steve laughed, clapped him on the back, and led him inside with the kids. He led him towards the bleachers and pushed him up the steps. Eddie and the rest of Hellfire sat at the top of the bleachers. Steve moved to follow them when he was suddenly yanked back by Nancy.

"Sit with me?" She asked softly and hopefully, her blue eyes wide.

"Yeah," he said.

His eyes caught Robin's in the bleachers not far from their seats. She raised her hands up, looking confused. She pointed at Hellfire and then at Nancy.

"What the hell?" She asked inside his head.

"I'll tell you later," Steve replied back.

"What were you off doing when you had me blocked?" Robin asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

They had been telepathically linked since Starcourt, not that anyone knew that, but Steve figured that since there might be something starting with Nancy, he should probably tell her that he's got another woman inside of his head.

"I swear, it almost looks like you two are communicating in your heads," Nancy snorted.

"That's because we are," Steve winced.

"What?" Nancy asked in surprise.

"Starcourt," he whispered.

"I guess we have a lot to catch up on," Nancy said.

"Yeah, we do," Steve said.

Suddenly, they were joined by Fred Benson, Nancy's friend on the paper.

"Steve Harrington. I didn't think I was ever going to meet you. You're right, Nancy, he is cute," Fred said.

"You talk to Fred about me?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," she blushed.

"Oh, she won't shut about you. How cute you are, what a great boyfriend you were back then, how she should have told you that, and so many other mistakes that she wishes she could take back, so on and so on. . .," Fred said.

"Fred!" Nancy exclaimed, and she paused. "He's right, though. There's so many things that I wish I could have done differently."

"You're here now, Nance, and that's water under the bridge," Steve said. "I forgave you a long time ago."

"She also won't stop talking about your hazel eyes and your cute butt," Fred said, rolling his eyes with a grin.

"Fred!" She scolded and then sighed. "He's right. You do have a cute butt. Oh! The game is starting."

Steve and Nancy shared a look when Lucas came out. The minute he saw his friends sitting in the bleachers, his face split in the widest grin. A moment later, Hellfire called out Lucas's name, and he laughed in delight. Yeah, Nancy and Steve did well. It was well worth the wait when they finally sent Lucas in, and he ended up scoring them the winning shot. He could hear the entire gym screaming for Lucas, but more importantly, he could hear Hellfire screaming louder. Steve had cheered proudly with Nancy, who pulled him into a tight hug as they both beamed brightly. Nancy pulled her head back, her arms still wrapped tightly around him, and smiled. She closed the gap between them and kissed him deeply. Steve smiled into the kiss, a euphoria filling him as Nancy's lips moved against his. He enjoyed the familiar feeling of her lips, the way she felt in his arms again. He had kissed her many times before, but this felt different from all the others. This one felt more final.

"Holy shit! I enjoyed that a lot more than I thought I would!" Eddie exclaimed. "Basketball is still not my thing but. . .I don't hate it."

They had all spilled out into the parking lot and were now waiting for Lucas and Robin.

"It wasn't the worst thing I've ever seen," Gareth agreed, rolling his eyes.

"Lucas was great," Jeff grinned.

"I have to admit that Sinclair has skills," Eddie said and then sighed. "All the shit I gave Uncle Wayne about liking basketball, I just know he's going to want me to watch one with him now. Although, he would have given me a swift kick if he knew what an asshole I was."

Steve smiled down at Nancy, who had her cheek pressed against his arm as she watched Lucas come out with his team. He was enveloped into his parents' arms first, and then he moved on to them.

"I had hoped you would come, but I didn't think you would," Lucas said to Dustin and Lucas.

"We're sorry for not being supportive before," Mike said. "And we're sorry for not taking you seriously."

"Yeah, you're way more important than any game," Dustin said.

"And even though you like basketball now, we still love you," Mike said.

Steve could tell that it was exactly what Lucas needed to hear. He smiled, tears in his eyes.

"Our bond goes deeper than friendship, Lucas. We're family," Dustin said. "If basketball is just as important to you as D&D then we'll be there to cheer you on."

"Just don't forget who you are. Okay?" Mike asked. "Promise?"

"Promise," Lucas said.

Mike and Dustin hugged Lucas tightly. Yeah, that's all he needed to know, was that they'd still be best friends even if their interests diverged. Mike and Dustin just needed to know that the important parts of Lucas Sinclair would still be there. It was a nice moment between the three of them, a moment that Jason Carver just had to ruin.

"Hey, Sinclair! Are these freaks bothering you?" Jason asked.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas broke the hug. Jason and a couple of other basketball players were standing behind them.

"These freaks are my friends," Lucas scowled.

"You don't have to cover for them, man," Andy said.

"If they're bothering you, we can deal with them," Chase said.

"No," Lucas said, standing in front of them. "They are my friends, and they have been for a long time. I didn't tell you because I was afraid of how you'd react. I'm in Hellfire, too."

Nancy, Steve, and Eddie moved to stand beside the kids. Jason stared daggers at Lucas.

"You lied to us, Sinclair. You betrayed us. You're going to burn for this," Jason said. "I'll make sure that you're off the team."

"Except that's the coach's decision, Carver," Stege said. "Not yours."

"What the hell happened to you, Harrington?" Jason asked. "You used to be one of us."

"Well, I finally decided to grow a brain. It looks like you never have. You still look as dumb as the day I met you. I bet your mommy still writes your name in your underwear just so you won't forget it," Steve said. "I was never one of you."

Jason looked like he swallowed a lemon. He cheeks were also flushed in humiliation.

"I'll make your life hell on the team, Sinclair. You're going to want to quit," Jason said.

Nancy stepped forward with a tape recorder and played back everything that he said.

"People would just love to find out that the captain of the basketball team is sabotaging his own teammates," Nancy said.

"Stay out of this, Wheeler, you don't know who you're messing with," Jason said.

"No, it's you who doesn't know who you're messing with," Nancy said, staring him directly in the eyes. "Don't fuck with our kids."

"You know, I thought you were a good guy, someone else like Steve that I could look up to, but I see who you are now, what they say about you. You're nothing more than a psychopathic bully who only cares about himself," Lucas said. "You can't even admit when you're wrong. D&D is just a game, just like basketball. I happen to enjoy both, and I realize now that no matter what I do that there's always going to be someone who is going to disagree with what I do in life but I'm not going to stop living it because of narrow-minded mouth breathers like who can't accept that not everyone wants to be like you."

Just as Jason took a step closer to Lucas, Chrissy appeared.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Chrissy, babe, you don't need to see this," Jason said. "I was just about to help Lucas out of a sticky situation."

"It looks like you were about to punch him," Chrissy said with narrowed eyes.

"You've read the situation wrong, babe," Jason said.

"Did you get amnesia?" Chrissy asked. "Did you forget that I dumped your ass?"

"We had a fight, that's all. You had a bad day. I get it," Jason said.

"A bad day? Try bad several months," Chrissy scoffed.

Jason grabbed her arm, and everyone immediately moved to stop him. It was Chrissy who saved herself. She raised her knee and slammed it into his groin. Jason let go and collapsed onto the ground. Andy and Chase glared at Chrissy. After a minute, Jason struggled to get back up. He glared at Lucas.

"One day, you're going to find yourself alone, without your friends, and you're not going to be so brave then," Jason said.

"Did you forget that I have a tape recorder, dumbass?" Nancy asked. "I'm still recording you."

Jason scowled and winced as he tried not to let it show that Chrissy had really hurt him. He turned his eyes onto Eddie, glaring furiously.

"This is all your fault. You manipulate people and you use. . . You use your powers to control them to make them do what you want. Chrissy never would have done that," Jason told Eddie.

"Maybe Chrissy just got tired of your bullshit. Man, if I can make people do what I want, then why the hell am I still a third year senior?" Eddie asked, scowling. "If I am oh, so, powerful then why the fuck am I not swimming in gold?"

Jason opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again before closing it once more. He looked like a gaping fish. Steve couldn't help but laugh at that. Eddie had gotten on that one. Sue and Charles approached quickly.

"What's going on here?" Sue asked.

"You're lucky mommy and daddy showed up," Andy spat at Lucas. "You and your meddling friends."

Andy, Chase, and Jason walked away as the Sinclairs moved to stand beside Lucas.

"It's too bad we don't have a dumb dog," Steve snorted.

"What are you talking about, Stevie? We've got our Scooby right here," Eddie grinned, clapping his hands on Dustin's shoulders and cackled when Steve high fived him.

"I changed my mind," Dustin scowled. "I don't want you two getting along."

"Does that mean that I'm Velma or Daphne?" Nancy asked Steve.

"I'm clearly Daphne," Steve scoffed. "I pull off purple better than you do."

"You take that back, Steve Harrington," Nancy laughed.

They all fell into a deep and serious discussion about Scooby-Doo, which was something they found they all had in common. It was that moment that Robin had finally showed up. She looked around in confusion.

"What I'd miss?" Robin asked.

"Well," Steve said in her head. "You'd know if you hadn't blocked me."

"Fuck you," Robin said. "I was talking to Vickie, and I lost track of time."

Steve smiled and felt Nancy snuggle into his side, her arm wrapping around his waist. Lucas was happily replaying the game with Dustin and Mike as they questioned him about basketball. Chrissy had slid her arm through Eddie's and was chatting him up. Eddie looked at Steve in panic and Steve sent him an encouraging wink, laughing at his plight. He didn't expect it to end up like this, but he found that he was looking forward to his new friendship with Eddie. Well, he hoped they were friends now.

"I wish we could all go out and continue this because this was fun, but I have to get Mike home. It's past his bedtime," Nancy said.

"Nancy!" Mike yelled.

"Yeah, I'm letting Eddie take me back to his place," Chrissy said.

"You going to put him to bed?" Nancy asked in amusement. "Tuck him in?"

"Like she's going to want - ," Eddie started to say.

"If he lets me," Chrissy grinned and he hollered.

"Yeah, yeah!" Eddie said. "Uh, Sinclair, I'm sorry about everything. I'll muster up a better apology later, but you know, I'm suddenly feeling tired."

"Nah, man, I get it," Lucas laughed.

Eddie took off towards his van but skidded to a stop when he realized that Chrissy hadn't followed. She ran and threw herself onto his back. He shrieked in surprise, but then he hooked his arms under her legs and continued to run towards his van, making engine noises as he did so. Chrissy's giggles could be heard throughout the parking lot. Steve smiled. People weren't all that different. The only thing was that their interests diverged, but the one thing that they all had in common was that they wanted to be seen and to be accepted. As Steve kissed Nancy goodbye, he couldn't help but be excited about what tomorrow would bring for them all.