#dustin and mike

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2

At night, the shivers start for no reason.

Dustin changes into his thick winter PJs, gets blankets from the linen cupboard as quietly as he can so he doesn’t wake up his mom.

His room is stuffy, but he can hardly feel it—knows that by all rights, he should be suffocating in the heat. There’s sweat on his forehead, his chest, dripping down his back, but as he wraps himself up tight in the thick cotton layers, he can’t stop himself from shaking.

His dreams are vivid, feverish.

He’s sitting with his shield next to him, blades of grass scratching at his palms. He can hear Erica laughing, but it sounds wrong. Distorted.

Then he lifts up one hand in front of his face. It’s drenched in blood.

The gasping sound of someone choking.

“D-Dustin.”

Eddie. Eddie lying on the grass, staining it red, there’s—there’s so much—

“Dustin, p-please.”

There’s an awful gurgling noise from Eddie’s throat. Dustin feels sick.

“You—Dustin, you—you’ve gotta keep it in. Please, please.”

Eddie’s crying, his hands weakly grasping at the ground, slipping in the puddles of his own blood.

“Help,” he sobs. “Help me.”

Dustin tries. The blood runs through his fingers.

“Steve,” he whispers—tries to scream, but the fear has stolen his voice. “Steve.”

Steve isn’t coming.

They’re alone, and Dustin can only watch, frozen, as Eddie convulses, gasps for air; he’s dying, he’s dying, move, do something—

He wakes with a start to his mom knocking on the door.

“Dusty, have you overslept? Can I come in?”

Dustin sits up, runs the back of his hand across his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, but it comes out hoarse; he has to stop, clear his throat. “Sorry. Yeah.”

The door opens.

His mom takes one look at him and says, “Oh, honey. No school today.” As she gets closer, her eyes flicker over the bed, the blankets, his PJs. “Are you cold?”

Dustin nods. The sheets cling to his skin, damp with cold sweat.

His mom gently runs a hand through his hair, checks his forehead. “How about I run you a bath, huh? I’ll call the school.”

Dustin’s too exhausted to bring up the fact that she’s going to be late for work if she stays much longer.

He takes the bath—once his mom has left the room, drains some of the tub so he can fill it up with scorching hot water.

When he gets out, there’s multiple tins of soup, fresh bread, and crackers on the counter; his mom’s bringing a couple meals out of the fridge, some microwave ones, too.

“Just giving you options, hon,” she’s saying, “eat whatever you’d like, I’m going to the store later. Oh, I filled up Tews’s bowl so if he complains at you, the sweet thing is lying.”

Dustin makes a wordless noise of thanks.

His bed has been stripped; new sheets and blankets have already been put on, which makes him feel a pang of shame. The window’s been left open the tiniest bit, just to let some air in, but his stomach immediately drops at the sight.

“Dustin?” His mom’s looking at him searchingly. “Honey, I can call off work—”

“No,” he says quickly. Subtly digs his nails into his palm to try and stop himself from shaking. “No, mom, m’just gonna be boring and sleep.”

She’s still frowning, but he’s gotten good over the years at knowing what expression to pull, putting just the right inflection in his voice that silently says don’t look any closer, don’t worry. She leaves him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, with her work number written down on a notepad, makes him promise that he’ll call over even the smallest thing.

He makes the promise knowing that he won’t.

Closes the window as soon as he’s alone.

-

The phone rings early afternoon. He sluggishly does the math in his head for Steve and Robin’s shift patterns this week. They always try and call if he’s sick, whenever the store is quiet: when he had tonsillitis last winter, miserable with it, they gave running commentary on the day’s most ridiculous customers, passing the phone between them until he fell asleep.

Pick up the phone, Dustin thinks.

But he feels inexplicably heavy, lets it ring and ring and ring…

The nightmare seems to flicker in front of his eyes, a lingering unease deep in his gut. He thinks of Steve, of calling for him and not getting an answer, which would never happen, which could only mean the very worst—

He stumbles out of his room and picks up the phone, interrupting Robin’s breezy customer service spiel to mumble out, “Sorry, think I missed a call from—um, is Steve there?”

“Afternoon, Einstein! You just missed him, he’s getting lunch, but he’ll be back in, like—”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dustin says, feeling stupid and abruptly, mortifyingly young. “Just… just checking.”

There’s a fraction of a pause.

“Hey, Dustin?” Robin says, quieter now. Gentle. Dustin wants to cry. “You can wait with me, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Are you—”

He hangs up.

-

Time slips away from him. It’s only after the school day’s over that he realises his mistake: that when he’s sick, he usually whines and complains, asks for updates every class, even if it’s just whether Mike’s added to their drawings left underneath their cafeteria table.

He’s kept his walkie off all day.

He searches for it, clumsily turning in his bed, and when he switches it on, it’s to hear Mike repeatedly asking, “Dustin, do you copy?”

“Here,” Dustin says blearily, then remembers himself. “I copy. Over.”

“God, finally,” Mike says in that short way that means he’s been desperately worried. “You okay? They marked you off sick in home room, but I didn’t—”

“M’not really,” Dustin says—doesn’t know what he is, honestly. “Just. Kinda tired. Over.”

“Okay,” Mike says, after a pause. “Um, Nancy says if you feel better, she can pick you up tomorrow. And we can—you don’t have to do anything, we can just, like, chill in the basement. I was, uh, talking to Will, and he thinks he knows what Eddie’s plot twist is, and I think he’s got it, honestly, I—”

“Tell Nancy thanks,” Dustin says, “but I… I don’t think I, um—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mike says. “No problem.”

The walkie falls silent, and Dustin gets the feeling that a few other conversations are happening on another channel. Then there’s a click, some static, and a voice again.

“Hi,” Lucas says. “Didn’t wanna wake you up if you were sleeping, so I, uh, used the spare key under the flower pot to drop off some stuff. Not—not homework, don’t worry.” A tiny chuckle. “I’m not a sadist.”

There’s some space left there, deliberately so. Dustin knows he’d normally make a joke. He can’t.

“Just some assignment marks came back,” Lucas says. “Hey, you got an A on that paper, the one about—”

“Thanks,” Dustin says.

He sounds blunt. He hates it.

“You don’t need to thank me, Dustin,” Lucas says softly. “But you’re welcome. Hope… hope you feel better.”

Dustin swallows.

More quiet. Another click.

“Hey,” Max says, as if nothing’s happened. “I’m behind on English, so I’m just gonna read out loud, I need to know there’s an audience or it’s not gonna stick. No complaints, my education’s on the line, Dusty-Bun.”

Max isn’t behind; Dustin knows this. He doesn’t complain.

She reads The Outsiders for at least twenty minutes. Things get hazy after that, because Tews comes in and settles on Dustin’s chest, purring, and Max’s voice fades into background noise.

Perhaps the phone rings again, but it sounds so far away, he could’ve dreamt it.

He wakes up at the sound of his mom opening the front door, the soft jangle of her house keys. He vaguely hears her play the answering machine, and he’d recognise the rise and fall of that voice anywhere.

Eddie has this rambling way of leaving a message, like he’s really having a conversation with someone rather than just talking to a machine. Dustin can’t make out the words from here. Wishes he could.

His mom enters with a fresh water glass and soup on a tray.

“Eddie called,” she says, with that warm tone of voice she’s used ever since she truly met him—when he watched her with wide eyes from a hospital bed and choked out, “I-I’m not—it’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”

“Hmm?”

She smiles at him. “He was just calling to say hi.”

Dustin smiles back weakly—knows that Eddie would’ve taken at least five minutes to even get round to that point.

-

This time, the terror comes when he’s wide awake, when it’s three o’clock in the morning and his heart pounds for no reason at all, breath catching like he’s been dumped into a cold, cold lake.

Dustin’s felt frozen before, but when Eddie…

It wasn’t like Max in the graveyard, where Steve shouting for him to call Nancy and Robin helped him snap out of it, gave him something to do.

He was alone.

He was alone, and he didn’t know how long it had been since Eddie had stopped breathing. He tried to count, and the numbers turned to static in his head.

Stop the bleeding. Help him breathe. Move. Fucking move, you’re killing him, you’re—

A light on in the hallway.

“Dusty? Oh, baby, breathe.”

Dustin tries. Chokes on it.

And his mom is leading him to her room like he’s five years old.

“There, sweetie, that’s it. Shh, breathe, breathe.”

Dustin half-collapses into her bed, and her bedspread is thick, but he’s so, so cold, and he can’t catch his breath—

“Shh, Dustin, shh, you’re okay, baby. Oh, honey, it’s… it’s the earthquake, isn’t it?”

His mom is holding his hand, guiding his breathing. In. Out.

“There. There you are, well done, baby. I’m going to call Steve, okay?”

Dustin tightens his grip on her hand. Gasps out an urgent, “No.”

It could be a bad night, could be a night that Steve needs all the rest he can get—

“Oh, Dusty, shh. Okay, honey, I won’t, won’t. Not right now.” She hugs him. “You know you can tell me anything? Always.”

Dustin closes his eyes.

I can’t.

-

He pretends to sleep. Feels his mom leave the bed. Hears her on the phone—can’t make out the conversation.

His heart’s beating rapidly again. Breathing short and sharp.

He slips into his room. Opens the window. Crawls out.

Shock of cold air. Rain on his skin. In his eyes. Blinks it away. He’s on his bike with no memory of deciding to do so. Lungs burning. Pedalling faster, faster—

He hits something, something stupidly small, a pathetic rock, but he goes down, like a kid freshly off training wheels.

Dustin wonders if this is how Eddie felt. If even while on the bike, he could still sense how close to death he was.

And it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, it’s not remotely the same, but as Dustin lies there in the rain, his palms and knees stinging, he kind of feels like he’s dying, too.

A car horn sounding, over and over. Like a desperate shout.

Dustin can’t breathe.

Clunk. A door opening. Footsteps. Running on gravel.

I didn’t run away this time, right?

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey. Dustin, look at me.”

Steve. Steve’s hand on his shoulder.

Dustin shudders, exhales. “I-I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“Jesus. Woah, woah, take your time.”

Steve lifts him up so carefully, avoiding Dustin’s hands from digging further into the dirt.

Dustin blinks, sees Steve’s frown, the way his eyes are darting all over him until they land on his knees.

Oh. He’s bleeding.

“Come on,” Steve says. “Here. Lean on me. I’ll drive you the rest of the way.”

And it’s only as Dustin hobbles over to Steve’s car that he realises what he’s done.

He’s biked almost all the way to Forest Hills.

[will80sbyers]

OH MY GOD

[lavenderstobins]

this is so unbelievably stupid

[kidovna]

the full senior promic!🍀

bonus:

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

what if the first time steve and eddie actually meet is when steve picks up dustin, mike, and lucas from hellfire a month or so into their freshman year.

and when steve starts dicking around and roughhousing with dustin a bit.. thats when eddie sees him

him.

steve harrington.

king steve harrington.

king steve harrington, jock extraordinaire fucking with his new (pretty brittle, he got told off for the same thing at the beginning of the year by mike and lucas) sheepie

Eddie’s at the car in next to no time at all, tears steve off henderson, and punches him square in the face

edit: full thing here

[igotthejob]

this is every fanfic i read

[willsheart]

wdym they’re all grown up 😭

[jacksaton]

The party!

[diavalkitty]

[changenamelater]

*taps mic* STEVE HARRINGTON IS NOT STUPID.

Thank you for your time.

[munsons-mutiny]

One of my favorite trope for Steddie is Steve hunting down Eddie when the kids join Hellfire and giving him a long list of dos and donts.

At first Eddie thinks he’s just being a prick, and worried he’s going to turn the nerds into freaks like him. Especially when he says not to mention drugs in front of Dustin.

But then he starts pulling out lists of monsters that can’t be in campaigns. And like what??? Why can’t he use demagorgons? They were gonna be in the next combat! He’s tempted to ignore the warnings, in fact he’s all set to, but something about Steve’s face when he was laying it all out haunts him. Something so deadly serious about it. So first he decides to test the waters to see if he’s full of shit.

When the session starts, he makes a throwaway comment, “you’re acting like there’s a mindflayer around the corner.”

All the kids freeze but Wheeler especially looks like he’s going to be sick. He even grabs at the bracelet around his wrist. The one he always said his best friend made him before he moved.

Eddie curses himself for even trying to test it out after that, and immediately bullshits the whole session so he can scrap any hint of demogorgans from the campaign.

After that session he drives straight to Harringtons house and demands they go over all the things he can’t include again, in detail, while he takes notes.

He doesn’t know what’s going on with these freshmen, but he knows trauma when he sees it and well he’d gotten attached to the gremlins.

When he leaves that night, he thinks Steve is looking at him with approval. Like he trusts him with their well-being now.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Mike: *disbelief* You slept with our dungeon master?

It wasn't the fact that they were two dudes that bothered Mike, but the fact that it was Steve Harrington who slept with their dungeon master.

Steve: Keep up that tone, asshole, and I'll get your precious dungeon master pregnant just to piss you off.

Eddie: *leaning towards Mike* There's 50 bucks in it for you if you make your tone worse.

Mike: You can't get -

Eddie: There's another dimension under Hawkins. It's baffling the things that you can't believe in, but you can believe in that. You need to be a little open-minded, Wheeler.

Mike: 🤨

Dustin: I call dibs on godfather! Ha!

Mike: Bullshit! You can't call dibs!

Steve: *watching them argue* This could have gone worse.

Eddie: *grinning* Still could.

[taeiris]

theyre all grown up now :(

[lavenderstobins]

stranger tweets part 5

[previous] [next]

all previous parts: [part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

[kidovna]

we’re so back

[kennahjune]

Having thoughts of The Party being touchy as all fuck after everything.

Like you cannot enter nor leave any kind of hang out without a hug, high-five, pat, or anything from everyone you were hanging out with.

And then, suddenly, you aren’t able to leave without a kiss or hug of some kind from Steve.

It started after the bullshit that was the Starcourt Mall. The kids were leaving Steve’s house from a DnD session maybe 2 months before the Byers left for Cali.

Dustin was taking forever to pull his shoes on and get out the house to his moms car and everyone was complaining. It was one of those rare times where Steve wasn’t the one carting them all around— they all had their own rides.

Dustin got his shoes on and Steve handed him his bag and— without thinking— pressed a kiss to the top of his hat before waving him out the door.

The rest of the kids are silent until Mike speaks up bitchily “what about us, asshole?”

Steve has no idea what they mean until El points to her head with a grin. Steve deals out head and forehead kisses for everyone and waves them off to their respective rides.

And then it just— sticks. At first it’s with just the kids whenever he sees them. He’ll usually greet them with a hug or an exasperated sigh and then say goodbye with a kiss to their foreheads.

Not even Mike complains. This is the kind of shit he never got while growing up— might as well make the best of it.

And then it migrates to Robin as well, and the Nancy is joining in on the hugs (they’re still too awkward for the kisses but the hugs are enough for now).

And Steve never holds back, not even in public. Again, no one complains.

And that’s how Hellfire finds out about the kissing arrangement (that might be the title of this if I make it an actual fic). They watch as Steve presses a forehead kiss to Mike, Lucas, and Dustin before waving them off and then presses a kiss to Max’s head and giving her a tight hug.

The guys try to make fun of the kids for it but none of them are embarrassed.

“It’s Steve, dude. He’s like a mom.”

“The kisses are actually really comforting.”

“It’s a Party thing.”

And then the fuckery of 1986 and Vecna happens and suddenly Eddie’s in on the hugs and pats and high-fives.

And then.

And then.

He’s in on the kisses.

Steve doles out the kisses like usual one night after Hellfire and gives one to everyone— including Eddie.

And Eddie panics and gives Steve one right back.

And then the kids are going feral about wanting to give Steve a kiss too.

And Eddie leaves during the chaos.

And then they don’t talk about it.

Until Steve and Eddie do it again.

And the kids accept is as the new normal; you have to give Steve a kiss back.

And then Steve and Eddie have an excuse to kiss each other on the foreheads and cheeks and noses.

One night they’re hanging out, just the two of them at the trailer after Wayne left for work.

Steve had greeted Eddie with a tight hug the moment he’d gotten in the trailer. Eddie had squeezed back just as tight if not tighter.

Steve was getting ready to leave, and on instinct leant in to kiss Eddie, but Eddie was also leaning in to kiss Steve. So they meet in the middle and accidentally kiss on the lips.

And then the new normal for Steve and Eddie is kissing on the lips goodbye.

Idk, just Steve being a very touchy feely person makes me so happy