#dustin is a shithead

[fandoms-in-law]

Muddy Letters - The Conclusion

Authors Note: I have 2 possible summaries for this fic and neither really work for posting it all in one story. Instead both the summary I want to use and the story is in 3 parts: The Re-Beginning, The Beginnging, The Conclusion (you are here)

Contrary to normal expectations, I suggest reading the Re-beginning first.

Summary: It started with a car theft and an apology note. It ended with a fathers anger and discovery. It began again with Dustin helping Steve pack up his room.

Now it ends with an interesting way to prevent Dustin snooping anymore.

/\/\

Dustin was not expecting, nor was he happy to find out, that helping Steve move into his new home was, for him at least, less moving and unpacking boxes and more being given a shovel, taking to the garden and told to dig.

“How is this helping anything? What am I digging anyway? Flowerbeds?” He demanded, trying to give the shovel back and head toward the house.

“It’s helping me fill a decades old promise and helping you avoid snooping and invading my privacy again.” Steve replied, a bitchy smirk on on his face. “Besides, you should be thrilled. You get to dig the start of the Hobbit Hole. You love those books, right?”

He threw the shovel down, “What promise? How do you know about Smiles? You refuse to read them! It can’t be a hobbit hole. There’s no hill to dig into.”

“Make good progress and I might answer some of those questions. If he other shitheads snoop they’ll help you out here, okay?” Steve called, heading back to his new house, but a sharp glance over his shoulder confirmed Dusting wouldn’t be allowed back in unless the weather drastically changed.

~

“Here’s the kids,” Nancy called, “I’m staying too to ensure some unpacking actually gets done.”

Steve hurried out of the house, grinning at the group that had arrived, “We need Eddie and Robin to get the van here to start on that. Come in so I can show you around.”

“Dustin is excited to help you. Where is he?” El asked, looking around, trying to spot him.

“Oh he’s already helping. Insisted I pick him up absurdly early to help, so I gave him a project to work on.” He explained. “After the tour, I’ll show you his project and all you brats can decide how you want to help.”

Mike predictably glared, “We aren’t brats.”

“Says the brattiest of the group.” Steve bitched back, “Come on.”

~

“This doesn’t look like digging, Henderson,” Steve called, leading the group over to him. “Are you planning how to snoop again?”

“Tunnels need supports and structure, Steve.” Dustin countered, tone implying insults he didn’t say. “If you want a hobbit hole it needs planning, not just ‘Start digging and figure it out as you go’.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “As if you’ll get far enough to need that today. And it has been planned, a long time ago so I’ve been told. The area marked off needs digging down into first.”

“By who? And why is he digging?” Mike demanded, coming to stand beside Steve.

“A friend and partly because he tried looking at private things when helping me pack, partly because he insisted on helping before any of my stuff is here to be unpacked.” Steve easily explained. “And if you keep that attitude, you can grab a shovel and help him too.”

Lucas looked over the area for a moment before asking, “Can we see the plans or are they private too?”

Steve shrugged, “They aren’t here and I’m not having you brats trying to be project managers. Now,” He clapped, “Who’s helping Dustin and who’s in the house?”

~

Eddie and Robin were clearly unloading boxes for a while before knocking on the door. There were boxes stacked into a wall in front of it with only space for an arm to stick through as it currently was doing.

“Thank you, Thing.” Steve laughed when it waved. “Guessing you got here while I had everyone in the garden.” He leant closer as the arm withdrew, to peer through at Eddie’s equally amused face.

“About ten minutes ago, I’d say. You tell me how the timings match up. Are you dismantling my wall now?” Eddie crooned, smiling when the boxes were soon taken from the top and Steve’s spot peering through was taken by Mike glaring suspiciously.

“Do you know how Steve knows about hobbits?” He asked, as if Steve merely knowing of them was wrong.

He laughed, “Easy, I told him about them. We decided you kids are dwarves and he’s Bilbo.”

“Hey!”

“There are too many of you to be hobbits but only one Steve.”

~

Everything had been given a place and Steve was hopeful they’d have a quiet evening from how worn out they all were, between moving, unpacking and digging a decent trench in his garden. He could feel those hopes flounder when Dustin came through, now in clean clothes and with a determined gleam in his eyes.

“You’ve only known Eddie since Spring Break. How could building a hobbit hole be a decades old promise when he claims to be the one to tell you about hobbits?” He rattled off, trying to figure out his mystery as he spoke.

“We were penpals once. Lost touch and didn’t immediately know each other in the reunion.” Eddie said, swatting the questions from the air.

Dustin’s glare turned on him, “That makes no sense! The only penpal schemes are to other countries or states. And why would Steve promise a hobbit hole to a penpal he couldn’t meet?”

“We met too. Eddie didn’t say it was just letters.” Steve rolled his eyes, crossing his arms to show how done with the conversation he felt. “Can we watch the film now?”

“I want answers to all these secrets.” Dustin insisted, a whine in his voice as he sat deliberately in front of the TV to block everyone’s views of it.

Eddie and Steve exchanged a look and sighs before Eddie jumped up, “Fine. I’ll tell you the tale of how I became the man I am today and how Uncle Wayne is ever a vital clue to know if I was in your past.”

“And how he forgets where places are in a month of not visiting them.” Steve added, smirking.

“Hush!” The rebuttal was easily given, “Now I was just a young thing-”

Steve listened to Eddie’s recounting of their childhood friendship with a smile: They could keep some promises to each other now.

[whathehonestfuk]

Steve: I'm bisexual

Dustin: that's not a real word

*one trip to a dictionary later*

Dustin: and you still can't get a date?

[my-hyperfixations-hell-blog]

Steve and Dustin's dynamic is literally just: This is the shithead I picked up off the side of the road, I'd die for him.

[usedtobecooler]

the sinclairs' new neighbour arrives out of the blue on a random friday night in may and subsequently becomes the object of eddie munson's desires.

tw: explicit sexual content, 18+ minors dni. virgin!eddie, oral male receiving, eddie's pov. pathetic amounts of pining. no use of y/n.

you've been around after every hellfire meeting for a month now, waiting with legs crossed and swinging from a fold-out table as you sit patiently for them to wrap it up, and fuck if you're not the most distracting thing eddie munson has ever laid eyes on.

you join in on the end-of-game conversations every week, a genuine little interest in the lilt of your voice as you ask questions and join in with the banter, which usually consisted of ribbing mike wheeler for being a little shit.

and, eddie's not dumb, okay? he knows you're only here because you're picking up the sinclair siblings every week, taking a bit of the load off steve harrington, who's been designated chauffeur for a year now, much to his own dismay.

but, sometimes, he thinks you maybe like being here and spending late friday evenings in their presence. and it's a nice little delusion for eddie to live in until he's home and safely tucked under his sheets, thinking of your cute laugh and your flirty smile when he slides a hand under his sleep shorts.

he's only a man. a pervert of a man, absolutely. but he'll feed into his delusions and feed into his daydreams, because it's not hurting anybody but himself in the confines of his room.

things are shadowy and hazy this particular friday, and eddie sure as shit is not on his game. he's stuttering and fumbling over his words, which wheeler is using to his advantage like the dickhead he is, mocking eddie with every fuck up with that stupid fucking face he makes.

eddie calls it a day earlier than usual because his head just isn't in the game damnit, and henderson claps him on the back on his way out, giving him this sincere smile which eddie kind of hates because dustin usually takes every opportunity to add himself into their shithead-ery.

oh god, he was worse than he thought. he needs to hang his hat up and give his job over to zombie boy byers immediately.

eddie doesn't get out of his head quick enough to realise that harrington arrived and left with all of the kids in tow, the sinclairs included.

so when you arrive at the door a half hour later, a confused look on your face, eddie's face fucking falls.

"damn, did harrington want his old job back that badly he kidnapped my kids?" you laugh quietly, all sincerity and jokes as you look around the empty room, eyes landing on eddie with a sparkle.

"it's my fault, i let everybody go early and i-" eddie groans, putting his hands on his hips then dropping them to his sides, "i didn't think. sorry, sweetheart."

sweetheart. why'd he fucking say that? someone needs to get the shotgun and put him down like old yeller.

eddie makes himself busy by packing away all his stuff, pointedly not looking in your direction because he's an idiot piece of shit, and who knows what other mess will come out of his mouth if he keeps letting himself look at you.

"you seem stressed, eddie," you observe quietly, a statement. you cross your arms behind your back, fingertips linking together, "is there anything i can do to help?"

eddie lets out this little self-deprecating laugh, a mirthless smile on his features, "unless you stop showing up here, no, there's nothing you can do."

a hurt look flashes across your face momentarily before it disappears again, masked over with a confused furrow of your brows, "oh. i'm sorry, have i done something wrong?"

eddie's fucking this up. he's a fucking idiot, who apparently can't talk to any girl who isn't ronnie or little erica sinclair.

"just, y'know, consuming my brain so much that i can't focus on anything else lately, so." eddie admits, deflated as he slumps into his chair and rolls his neck until he's looking up at the ceiling. his throat clicks audibly, dry and scratchy.

"oh." you say again, a relieved sigh escaping you as you kick a leg out to bash his shin lightly with the toe of your boot, "why didn't you say something? that's- that's okay. lucas kind of figured, he told me your moon eyes were annoying him."

eddie's kicking them all out. hellfire will be no more. he's sick of these damn kids.

he covers his face with his hands, rubbing against his two day stubble with calloused fingertips. a useless groan escaping him, "sorry, i wasn't trying to be obvious. girls don't. hmm."

eddie stops himself with a grunt, trying to narrowly escape the word vomit that threatens to spill out. he's nervously jiggling his leg, the chains on his jeans clattering together obnoxiously loud in the otherwise quiet room.

he feels your presence enter his orbit, the soft press of your hand on his knee stopping the motion of his jerky leg.

"don't be so nervous," you scold playfully, voice light like you're trying to hide a smile, "i'm not anybody to be nervous around. i like that you noticed me, that i'm somebody you're interested in."

eddie's hands fall away from his face at that, and he blinks blearily, head lolling until he catches sight of you crouched down in front of him, staring up with these gorgeous eyes that eddie just wants to get lost in.

"really?" he asks dumbly, brain short-circuiting at the sight of you knelt down like this in front of him, his stupid mind wandering into filthy territory.

"really." you nod, smiling up at him with this thousand-watt thing that he's sure could power the whole of hawkins, "i'm interested, too. in case i wasn't being obvious enough by hanging around here willingly every week."

you weren't obvious at all. not at all. or maybe you were and eddie's just a fucking moron.

"can i help relieve some of that stress now?" you ask, head tilted to the side in question, "i'm only down here anyway."

eddie's brain melts out of his ears, he's pretty sure. his tombstone is sure to say here lies eddie munson, killed by the insinuation of a blowjob.

"oh, you don't have to- you really don't have to, ha, your hands are on me, fuck-"

the conversation kind of fades out after that, and you're all action dropping from your deep squat to thud your knees against the floor softly.

and you're so pretty on your knees for him, eyelashes fluttering across the apples of your cheeks that are flushed and warm. eddie practically melts into his chair as you paw at his jeans, fluid motions and featherlight touches like you've done this before, and god he doesn't want to think about that right now, that you've done this for other guys before him. not when you're laid out below him and nudging in between his spread legs with pursed lips, spitting over the flushed head of his dick to dampen it further.

"you should- you should know i've never done this bef- fuck, fuck," eddie stutters over his words, fingers clawing into the arms of the chair when you begin mouthing hot and wet over the leaking slit that continues weeping pathetically with every lave of your tongue.

he tried, okay? he tried to tell you, but he's a weak man and - and you're fucking looking at him with these pretty, knowing eyes like you had a clue from the beginning, and fuck was it really that obvious?

he clenches his eyes shut, trying to will away the images of a neon sign over his head that scream eddie munson, adult virgin.

you start off slow and savouring, lapping at him with these kitten licks and mouthing down the bulging vein on the underside. eddie thinks he's delirious, because he's surely imagining the way you're inhaling the musky scent of him, moaning prettily as you do.

"mm, fuck," eddie groans quietly, hips shakily punching up when you finally sink down over the head of his cock properly with your lips wrapped tightly around your teeth, the wet heat of your mouth enveloping him in a way that makes him feel fucking insane.

he didn't know it would feel like this. his brain is gonna explode, scanners style.

your hand reaches blindly for his, guiding his fingers to slide into your hair, and his eyes fly open to meet yours, a pretty haze covering your orbs as you nod slightly to give him the go-ahead to curl his fingers.

"ha, you're gonna fucking kill me," eddie murmurs, but he's gently pulling ever so slightly from the root at the base of your skull, because he may be a virgin but he's not fucking clueless, right? he's read enough skin mags to know how to pull hair properly.

you whimper high pitched and your eyes finally flutter closed, letting eddie move you up and down with his firm hand as you alternate between sucking and drooling all over his length.

he's aware that he's looking at you like he's in love, okay? he can't help it. you're literally sucking the soul out of him, moaning around his girth and running your tongue over him like he's the best thing you've ever tasted. like he said before, he's weak.

"you- you're so good at this, oh my god," eddie's eyes roll back into his head when your free hand runs from where it's gripping the meat of his thigh to slide between his obscenely wide legs and cup his balls, rolling and squeezing them between your fingers.

the room is filled with the whining, high-pitched noises that eddie's really trying his best to hold in at risk of sounding like an absolutely pitiful virgin, and the wet noises of your mouth working over his cock, the slick slide of your fist jerking off what you can't quite reach.

eddie's stomach clenches, and holy fuck this is over too quick, but he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed because, because-

"i'm coming, you're making me come, holy fuck-" eddie's words die with a groan that sounds breathy and pathetic even in his own ears, his fingers burying so tight in your hair and pulling as he arches in on himself and jerks his hips in aborted little thrusts. he feels the plush of your lips brush against the wild, untamed curls at the base of his cock and he lets out a weak grunt, feels his length throb and spurt out another weak dribble of come at the sensation.

he's so delirious when he finally comes to that he's all but dragging you up from where your knees have to be aching on the floor, dragging you into his lap, and fuck sake his soft cock is still out and covered in spit and come and-

your mouth is on his in a hot press of lips and teeth and tongue, eddie's so out of his element here but the taste of his own spend on your tongue is as addictive as it is mildly disgusting.

"you got a mattress in the back of that van of yours?" you mumble between kisses, smiling into it.

"mhm, yup, a-ha," eddie nods wildly as he chases your mouth with his own, "i think i need some more stress relief. i hear burying your face between a pretty things legs helps."

eddie definitely does feel like he's dying when your thighs wrap around his ears and lock him in face-first.

and what a way to go that is.

[wheneverfeasible]

Steve’s used to not being loved.

He’d known his parents didn’t love him since he was a young child. He’d known that the girls he casually took on dates and occasionally fucked didn’t love him. He’d known Tommy and Carol didn’t love him like friends were supposed to. They all loved his reputation, sure, but not him. It was easy though because he didn’t love them either.

He’d loved his parents once, a long time ago. Back before they were practically strangers, but that love had been the obligation of biology. He’d thought he loved Tommy and Carol, but it had all been too surface level and focused on popularity.

He had loved Nancy though. He finally found someone he could start to be his true self with and he loved her and he thought she loved him, only…only she didn’t.

He couldn’t blame her. After a while, when the same thing keeps happening, you kind of have to look for the common factor in all those loveless relationships and see what the real issue was. Simply put…

Steve was just unloveable.

Maybe it was his past. Not that he’d actually been a bully or anything, he’d actually shut down a lot of bullying even among his then-friends and teammates, but he had been kind of self-absorbed. Or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t as smart as the people he found himself surrounded by. Maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t anything special, not at the end of the day.

Except he could take a punch.

And slowly, he found people that did love him. The other kids might tolerate him, might like him, but Dustin genuinely loved him, he knew that. Dustin was his original ride-or-die. Dustin might be a little shithead that constantly treated Steve like he was stupid, but he was like his brother. And Dustin also make him feel amazing and wanted and loved.

And then there was Robin. Most amazing of all really was that Robin loved him. His Platonic soulmate. His other ride-or-die. She saw him at his lowest and saw him at his highest, was there for him when he had stuff he didn’t want to drop on a teen boy who should be worrying about pimples and bad hair days, not interdimensional monsters and evil wizards. Robin made him feel loved too, even if she also sometimes teased him a little too sharply.

There was also Max of course. He’d been surprised at receiving a letter from her too, back when Vecna had been after her. He’d read it, back when she’d been in her coma. She hadn’t said she loved him, but it was there in other ways. The big brother she should have had all along.

So yeah, okay, Steve was loved. But it was platonic. It was friends, his new kind of family even, but it wasn’t the love he’d always wanted and never had. He just accepted the fact that people didn’t love him that way.

Which was why, when he realized he was in love with Eddie, he just sighed and accepted it and never changed anything in the way he interacted with the other man. He didn’t bother telling Eddie because he knew there was no point. Besides, Robin called him out on it, said he was being so obvious about his feelings, but Eddie never said anything too.

So okay. Steve was in love with Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t in love with Steve. Eddie also didn’t treat Steve any differently despite knowing that Steve loved him. After all, if Steve was so obvious about it, then Eddie had to know too already, right?

So Steve watched Eddie come out to them, had nodded along when Eddie nervously explained what bisexuality was, having already had his own crisis before though he realized he’d never officially come out either. But then if his feelings for Eddie were so obvious, he figured he didn’t have to, so he didn’t say anything and let Eddie have his moment.

And it didn’t matter that Eddie liked guys. He still couldn’t love Steve, so Steve just accepted it and let it be. He didn’t flinch when Eddie mentioned meeting a guy in the city, was even downright friendly when Eddie eventually brought the guy around to meet everyone.

It hurt, of course, but Steve’s feelings were his own problem; he wasn’t going to let the fact that he was in love with one of his best friends make things awkward. Eddie was nice enough that he never told Steve to knock it off when Steve got a little too touchy with him, though Steve backed off in his own when Eddie seemed a little panicked about it sometimes.

Steve was even there for Eddie when Eddie came over crying because he and guy broke up. He wouldn’t tell Steve why they broke up, not entirely, but eventually Steve learned it was because Eddie had feelings for someone else this entire time.

Steve wondered who it was, but in any case he just hoped Eddie got to be happy with them eventually. He later told Eddie one day when Eddie was over that he was a great guy, obviously, and anyone Eddie liked would be a lucky person. He hoped he didn’t sound judgmental about it, didn’t want Eddie to think he was being petty or whatever, but Eddie just looked sad again and left soon after.

Steve knew he had a problem about being too much sometimes. It had pushed Nancy away, and every girl he’d tried to date afterwards never really liked him enough either. It was still just his reputation and his hair that got him dates, not who he was himself. That was fine. Temporary companionship was better than nothing he supposed.

And life continued, and Steve kept loving Eddie, and he was content that Eddie let him love him, even if there was no hope of it being reciprocated.

And then Steve went on a date with a guy.

It was…okay. The guy was a lot handsier than Steve would like, and kind of boring when compared to Eddie, but Steve just shrugged and figured that at least it’s be someone else’s hand this time. And it was okay. No great spark or anything. More of a glorified one night stand than anything, but it was fine.

He knew he needed to get out dating again. Girls and guys. His love for Eddie wasn’t abating at all, so he couldn’t bring himself to actually date anyone, but he could do hookups.

Which was how Eddie found him one day, mouth around some guy at a bar in Indy because they had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Oops. It was a little annoying though that Eddie looked as upset as he did. He appreciated the fact that Eddie didn’t call him out for his unwanted feelings, but it wasn’t fair that he thought Steve shouldn’t be able to move on.

They got into a fight.

They never exactly said what they were fighting about with words, but Eddie yelled at him for having unsafe sex, while Steve yelled at him for being a hypocrite, and then Eddie yelled at him for leading the guy on, and Steve said that that was a bit rich coming from him.

And Eddie was yelling and yelling and yelling about who knows what, telling Steve he shouldn’t be having random hookups in bathrooms when he wasn’t even gay, and Steve yelled that bisexual men can have bathroom hookups too, and that seemed to surprise Eddie for some reason.

In any case, it caused him to shut up for long enough for Steve to angrily tell him that just because Steve loved him, it didn’t give him the right to tell Steve what he could or could not do, especially when he knew Eddie didn’t love him back.

And then…

“You…you love me?” Eddie choked out, his eyes wide as he stared across the dark alley outside the bar, where he’d dragged Steve after catching him on his knees.

Steve rolled his eyes, jutting out one hip to place a hand on while the other hand ran aggressively through his hair. It was started to rain while they were in the bar, a light drizzle that was slowly weighing down their hair, not that either of them paid it any mind.

“Jesus, Munson, are you really going to make me listen to the whole spiel again?” He rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This is bullshit, I’m bullshit, my love is bullshit, yadda yadda yadda. Or are we going the other way? The sad puppy eyes and the fact that you like someone else and it could never be me? I already know all this, Munson.”

Eddie continued gaping at Steve like a fish. It was starting to make him vaguely uncomfortable. Eddie shook his head, long strands of hair whipping wetly around him. “H-how long have you loved me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, man. You probably clocked it before I even did. I just barely realized like a year and half ago.”

Eddie’s eyes bugged further. “You’ve love me for a year and a half?” he asked incredulously, making Steve’s frown turn from annoyance to confusion.

“You already knew this, Eddie.”

“I most certainly did not!”

And…oh. Oof. Okay. Steve grimaced and held his hands up suddenly in a surrender sort of way. “Yikes. Okay, well, this doesn’t have to change anythi—”

“This changes everything!” Eddie exclaimed in what others might cause a shriek.

Steve winced, taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. “Eddie…Eddie, please, c’mon,” he tried to reason, feeling dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He was suddenly remembering all the times he’d invaded Eddie’s space, how many times he’d flirted back with Eddie’s fake flirting, thinking it was okay because the other man knew how he felt.

Fuck. Fuck, he’d fucked up again.

“Eddie, I know you don’t love me, okay,” he rushed to say. “I know you can never love me. I get it, okay? I’m not trying to force you to feel any way or anything. Just like with Robin and Nancy, the fact that I like you doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Not…Steve,” Eddie said, reaching up to grip and pull at his own hair as an incredulous laugh escaped him. “Steve, I fucking love you.”

Steve tried not to let that hurt. He knew Eddie probably didn’t get how much him saying that pained Steve since it wasn’t the kind of love he was talking about, so he wasn’t going to get upset at him over that.

“I know,” he sighed, slowly letting himself relax his body posture. “I know you love me in a friend way. And that’s enough for me, really! I love you like a friend too, so the fact that I also—”

“No Steve,” Eddie cut in again, and while he seemed exasperated, a wide smile was also starting to curl over his lips. “Robin was right and you really are a dingus. I mean, yes, I love you as a friend, but I’m also in love with you. Romantic styles.”

“I…” Steve blinked. He tried to understand Eddie’s words but they didn’t make sense. “What?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh, and the smile curled on his lips stretched out into a grin. He took a step closer. “I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington. I have been since…hell, probably since you went all Ozzy on me. But definitely since I woke up in the hospital to you holding my hand.”

Steve’s stomach swooped. “I don’t understand,” he said, and even to his own ears there was a small whine there. “You don’t…people don’t love me,” he pointed out. “They can’t. There’s something about me that just makes it impossible.”

Eddie scoffed, reaching out once he was closer enough to curl his fingers in the sleeves at Steve’s biceps. They were both now well and truly wet from the rain, but neither of them paid any attention to it at all.

“Now that’s bullshit, Harrington. You’re so fucking easy to love. As a friend and as something…more. I love you, Steve.”

Steve wanted to deny it again, wanted to say that that was impossible, because…because he’d never heard those words. Sure, Dustin and Robin told him they loved him, but romantically? Even Nancy had never told him that in those words. Not even in a lie. He couldn’t fully comprehend that he was hearing them now.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathed, his hands moving to cup Steve’s jaw. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life telling you that. You’re stuck with me now, big boy.”

And then Eddie kissed him.

Eddie was true to his words. He told Steve he loved him every single day, told him with his words and his actions and when it was legal, he told him again in front of all their friends and found family when he made a vow as a his husband.

And Steve? Well, it took a while for him for actually believe it, but nowadays? When Eddie kisses him good morning every day in bed, whispering his devotion, and every night doing the same, telling Steve he’ll see him in his dreams? Well…

Steve’s used to being loved. And he spends every day loving in return.

~

Hi hello I have no idea what this is but I just started typing and then I didn’t stop until this was completed lol

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[thepossummoldypasta]

Okay okay, the people have been heard, part 2 of the accidental baby acquisition thing (part 1)

Sometimes Steve wonders how his life turned out this way. Most of the time the omega jokingly says it’s all Dustin’s fault. This time it’s definitely Dustin’s fault.

Steve kicked the kid out after he cracked wise about Eddie being in a coma for 9 months—He did it nicely under the pretense of the pup being sent to find a nurse, but he’s forced out of the room all the same—now he’s desperately attempting to get Eddie calm.

The heart monitor is complaining loudly at Steve and the alphas breathing isn’t giving him any comfort, and it’s all around not an ideal situation. Steve shifts the baby (still asleep thank god) so he has an arm free to offer Eddie to scent. The movement catches the other man’s eye, and when the alpha he turns his head Steve can see Eddie’s crying.

“Oh Eddie.” Steve croaked “No, don’t cry. Dustin was just being a dick—you’ve only been under for six days—everything’s alright.” Eddie finally accepts Steve’s arm but instead of scenting he cradles it with shaking hands and doubles over awkwardly against Steve’s shoulder.

“Stevie,” the alpha sobs “Stevie.” He lets Eddie cry it out for a minute or so.

“Do you want me to walk you through what happened?” Steve offers.

Eddie nods against his neck; yes.

“How much?”

Eddie leans in even further, lungs drawing as much air as they can hold; everything.

“Nancy blew Vecna’s head off, but uh, we could tell something was up.” Steve grimaces “so, so I got worried and went to grab you and Dustin.”

Eddie stiffens as Steve talks, but doesn’t give any other indication that he’s heard enough, so Steve keeps going.

“ I found you just outside the trailer park—I don’t know if you remember it but the bats kinda beat your ass—I got to you before Dustin did thank god ‘cus it was gnarly. They, the bats, they nicked an artery so there was a lot of blood. We managed to drag all of us out through this new gate that spat us out at the Creel house on the right side, I don't know how that happened by the way…uh what else…there was an ambulance there because Carver’s gang broke Erica’s arm. The EMT guys were so freaked out when they saw us they shoved all of us in the back of the ambulance and hauled ass here—“

“Wait,” Eddie buts into Steve’s rambling explanation, “Erica got hurt? Who else got hurt? Is—“ now it’s Steve’s turn to interrupt.

“Everyone’s gonna be okay Eddie” Steve promises “The pups have a few minor breaks between all of ‘em but nothing serious. You and me got the worst of it.” Apparently not the best thing to say because Eddie jerks back with a whine, frantically checking over Steve’s injuries.

“You, I, WHAT?” Eddie, well, he screeches, unfortunately waking up the baby with his noise (the omega can’t stop himself from shooting him a dirty look for it).

“We’re both out of the woods now that you’re awake.” The omega reassures while soothing the tiny puppy’s cries. “There’s the bites, obviously, but none of them on you or me were particularly life threatening apparently. Although you lost enough blood to go into cardiac arrest—” Steve thinks he could put it nicer but there’s no point sugar coating it “the doctors did put you in a coma so you could recover but you were out less than a week, nowhere near nine months” Steve rolled his eyes at Dustin’s shithead antics.

“As for me, apparently the bats had some kind of venom that was rattling around long enough to cause some nerve damage and speed up this weird genetic thing I apparently have that messes with connective tissue. Now I’ve got this sweet new ride to help on the bad days but that’s about the worst of the damage ” Steve pats the armrests of his new chair, the one Jack helped him adjust to be his and not the one on loan from the hospital, and smiles in a way he hopes makes Eddie believe “bad days” will only happen some days instead of most days.

He expects Eddie to laugh at the attempted joke, or maybe crack a watery smile, But the alpha starts crying with renewed vigor.

“Is that why? Stevie is the puppy okay? How could Nancy let this happen?” Eddie gasps, reaching out to hold Steve’s face. The omega leans softly into the hold, but he’s soooo confused.

Before he can ask what the hell Nancy has to do with any of this,Jack waltzes through the doorway with a sheepish Dustin in tow. If that brat thinks that going out of his way to find Steve’s favorite nurse will get him out of trouble, he’s got another thing coming.

“Well now, sleeping beauty is awake.” Jack grins politely “I’m Jack, nice to officially meet you mister Munson.”

“Uhh, yeah, back atcha” Eddie nods

Jack ruffles Steve’s hair as she passes him on her way to Eddie’s IV line. Over the past few days She, Steve, and the others have grown close. The baby had imprinted on her as part of his pack, and the baby is part of Steve’s pack, so on and so forth until they all shared a bond. It’s nice.

She checks the levels of Eddie’s saline drip, and the numbers on the monitor that Steve can’t remember the meanings of no matter how many times it’s explained to him. Whatever they say must be good because Jack looks relaxed when she turns back to Dustin who’s haunting the entrance to the room leaning on his crutches (Steve resolutely tries not too give him pity points for the broken ankle).

“Alright kid, clear out.” she chimes,“I got to give your friend the full checkup and it’s feeding time.”

Jack clearly tacked on the last bit to get the stubborn pup to leave, and once upon a time it would have embarrassed the hell out of Steve, but it serves its purpose as Dustin turns heel and calls out that he’s going to visit Max.

Jack checks Eddie’s reflexes, then she has him push against her arms, follow a pen with his eyes, and tap her palm as she moves it around. All that good stuff to make sure Eddie’s brain still works right. Everything seems to be fine, the only exception being Eddie’s heart rate seemingly picking up when Steve takes his shirt off to feed the baby. Jack laughs under her breath when it happens though, so it must’ve been fine whatever it was.

“Alright Mr. Munson, you’re looking good. Your whole merry band still is being kept under observation otherwise I’d say you’re free to go. Do you have any questions for me?” Jack asks as she slips off the gloves she donned before she ran her tests. Eddie nods.

“When did Steve have the baby?” What?

“WHAT?” Steve crows, Jack’s absolutely no help as she’s too busy cackling to set the record straight. “I didn’t have a baby, Eddie!”

“But—you—You’re literally holding a baby right now big boy! And you smell like a mom!” Eddie retaliates, but he’s keeping his voice low so he doesn’t disturb said baby. That’s sweet actually.

“That’s my fault I’m afraid” Jack chuckles “he was supposed to be looking after baby nameless for me temporarily, but the little guy had other plans and decided Steve here was his new Ma. What you’re smelling and seeing right now is the result of that baby doing a very good job of convincing Steve’s body they’re his puppy”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open on a broken hinge, Steve watches him collapse back into his bed. He would think the alpha brain dead if he wasn’t just given a clean bill of health.

“So you weren’t pregnant when we were in… you know?” Eddie prods weakly

“No, I was not knocked up when we were in the Upsidedown!” Steve shuts that line of thought down as quickly as he can, Jack might be “in the know” thanks to her job but Steve does not need his new, basically older sister, to know he did the hanky-panky with Eddie in an alternate dimension.

“Oh thank Jesus” Eddie sighs and he’s so lucky that Steve’s beginning to think he’s in love with the idiot (and that he’s a little too distracted burping the baby to smack him). “What’s the baby nameless thing about?”

Steve goes quiet for a second. Not bad quiet, just shy quiet. It’s kind of an embarrassing question to answer. Jack lets him know she’ll be right outside if he needs her, but he’s been shyly waiting for this moment and just waves her off with an appreciative look.

“He technically doesn’t have a name, before he imprinted I was only really allowed to nickname him” Steve starts “but now he’s my baby so I can name him whatever I want. I’ve had a name picked out for a while but I wanted to talk to you first. Jack’s been trying to guess the name for days now and she’s been calling him that to try to annoy me into spilling the beans” he says with a snort.

“Why did you want to talk to me first?”

“I want to name him Theodore, after you?” Steve admits but when he looks to where Eddie is propped up against his pillow the alpha sucks in a breath between his teeth. “What? What’s with the face?”

“Eddie isn’t actually short for anything, so uh it wouldn’t really be naming him after me” Eddie says hesitantly “But! But I think Theodore is a great name!” And he smiles so brightly at Steve, the omega has to kiss it off Eddie’s stupid little face.

A week later the whole group is lounging in the ward’s common room just waiting for time to pass.

The roads are back open and the town is slowly knitting itself back together. Owen’s says that his team is waiting on one more thing before they all finally can go home. The older teens haven’t said anything to the pup’s yet, they don’t want to jinx anything, but it’s looking like home might be one of the recently vacated houses for packs instead of where they lived before. Steve thinks he’ll sleep easier having everyone safe under one roof, that at least some good will come out of so much of his family being left displaced by the “quakes”.

Steve’s cozy on a squishy couch with Robin tucked against his one side, Mike and Will are tangled together on his other, he’s even got Theo napping on his chest. God it’s a far cry from the nervous buzz that thrummed under Steve’s skin at the beginning of their stint in the hospital. He basks in the calm that comes with the rest of the pups piled on top of Eddie taking a nap instead of being obnoxious. Nancy has even huddled together with Jonathan and Argyle.

It’s really nice except for one thing nagging at the back of Steve’s mind, he hasn’t seen Jack or El for a while.

“Hey Steve?” Oh, speak of the devil and all that, Steve thinks as Jack pops her head into the room. “Your adoptive dad is here looking for you.”

Steve looks at Robin then to Nancy and Jon. It’s very clear that none of them know what she’s talking about.

“I don’t have an adoptive dad?” Steve replies.

“Okay rephrase. A man, who is not Harrington Senior, and who matches your emergency contact information is at the visitor’s desk asking for his kid, who he says is you.” Jack doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before El slips into the room her dragging with her—

“Hop” Steve cries weakly, the name catching in his chest. No matter how much he blinks Hopper is still there. Will bursts from Steve’s side and launches himself at Joyce Byers, who Steve hadn’t even noticed was there, Hopper is here.

Steve somehow manages to get on his feet. Theo, the sweet angel that he is, doesn’t even fuss at the abrupt movement, instead he coos at the newcomers as if he’s confused why they haven’t started fawning over him yet.

Steve is pulled into a side hug the literal second Hopper’s close enough. Steve missed him so much. He hadn’t told anyone about how in the early days of his parents leaving him home alone he would sneak over to the police chief’s trailer because he was afraid being by himself. Or about how many nights the man spent driving him to or picking him up from the hospital after Steve’s dad got too drunk. Nobody knew how confused Steve was after Starcourt, when he didn’t know how much he was allowed to grieve. But now Hop’s back, and Steve missed him.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating the baby” Hopper laughs into Steve’s hair. He laughs like he doesn’t know how else to react, which is fair, but he also laughs like it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while so Steve doesn’t really mind.

Very helpfully, Mike pipes up with “Thats Theo.” At the same time Dustin says “That’s Steve and Eddie’s puppy.”

Steve barely has enough time to playfully warn Eddie to run before it’s too late.

——————————————————————————————————

Sorry for the wait, I wasn’t really planing on continuing this so it to a while to figure out what I wanted to do.This is going up on my Ao3 as a one shot at some point by the way, so maybe look out for that I guess. I hope you enjoyed!

[steddie-as-they-come]

Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.

Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.

Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.

The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.

A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."

The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."

He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.

This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.

They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.

He misses the shitheads.

No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.

Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.

It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.

It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.

Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.

In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.

"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.

"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."

"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."

He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.

She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."

Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"

"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.

Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"

Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.

Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."

"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."

Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."

"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"

Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.

"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"

"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."

The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.

Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”

Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”

“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.

Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”

“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”

“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.

Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”

Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”

He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.

Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.

Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”

Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”

Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”

The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.

part two!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May Mayhem Bingo event.

a charity case

Prompt: Hate at First Sight | Word Count: 3450 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Underage Drinking, Canon Injuries | POV: Steve | Relationship(s): Steve & Everyone, Pre-Steddie | Tags: Set at the End of S3, Post Mall Fire, But Before the 3 Month Time Jump, Everybody's Coddling Steve, Except for Known Menace Eddie Munson

It starts out normal enough. As most things involving the little shitheads do, but it predictably only spirals from there. Dustin lures him home with the promise of Claudia's lasagna, and Steve's not one to ever turn down Claudia's home cooking. He's no fool. Even if his face hurts. Even if his head is pounding. Even if it hurts to turn his neck. Maybe he has whiplash from that car wreck.

It doesn't matter. He still goes, and they sit and eat in the living room, watching TV. Claudia worrying over the state of his face. Steve reassures her over and over that he's okay. That it looks worse than it feels. Honest.

Steve's not sure that's true, but it's just a little white lie. There's no reason for her to know what kind of danger Dustin had been so close to in the depths of hell in that cursed mall. That he did something stupid, reckless and really brave to save Steve and Robin. He's fine. They're all fine.

He shakes some aspirin out of the bottle in his glove box when he gets in the car, the same bottle from after that fight with Jonathan. The one that threw him into this whole mess in the first place. If he hadn't provoked Jonathan, if he hadn't been such an asshole, he'd probably never know anything about the Upside Down. He thinks about that a lot. 

But he'd also probably not know Henderson. He probably wouldn't have a new friend in Robin.

That's not a trade off he'd make. He wouldn't change anything. He wouldn't. But he does think about the what-ifs more than he'd ever admit to anyone else.

Steve tosses the pills in his mouth, and swallows them. He never paid Tommy back for them. He thinks that makes them work better, the spite somehow adding some extra strength to them. He'll be good for a few more hours, the ache in his skull hopefully waning long enough for him to fall asleep.

The next night Nancy calls and tells him to be ready, that Jonathan's gonna pick him up in twenty minutes. That they're going out for burgers. No kids allowed. They swing by and get Robin, and it's kind of fun. Just the four of them. Sure, his face still hurts from the Russian torture, but it's nice to get back to a bit of normal. They don't even talk about the Upside Down or the Russians or that godforsaken mall.

Under the bright lights of the diner, he can see the scrape on Robin's knee, the bruise surrounding it that's worse than it was that night. He touches the skin near it gently.

She bats his hand away, but smiles at him, "I'm fine, dingus."

If she's fine, he's fine, too.

On Sunday, Robin says he has to come to family dinner and meet her parents. They're demanding it, apparently, and won't take no for an answer. They want to know who saved their daughter from the fire. He didn't save her from anything, she saved herself. But he does great with meeting the folks, they usually love him, so he doesn't mind going. He puts on his best polo and makes sure his hair is combed a little neater than usual.

Turns out, her mom is a pretty damn good cook, and they're really kind. Warm. If a little overprotective. But it's nice. Robin's really lucky.

He thinks they assume he's her first boyfriend, and he doesn't make any corrections. Just stretches his arm across the back of her chair, and plays the part. This is familiar, well-trodden ground. Steve Harrington: Boyfriend. That's normal. He can do normal. So, for this moment, he's the old Steve Harrington again. The one before monsters fucked up his whole world. 

Charming, delightful and beloved. 

It's not until Monday that they all tip their hands. Steve figured it out when Erica was on the phone, inviting him to dinner at their house. He's never set foot in the Sinclair house. And he quickly realized he was being passed around like a hot potato. A charity case.

Poor Steve Harrington, with no parents at home to make sure he's okay.

He's fine on his own. He's been fine on his own for a long time.

But he still can't tell the kid no, not after everything they went through together. Scoops Troop Forever, and all that. And she's just doing her part. He's not sure who put her up to this, probably Henderson. So, he shows up and sits through the most awkward meal ever, with Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair not quite understanding why this older teen, especially one with a gnarly black eye, is friends with their children. 

He's Dustin's babysitter, Erica explains, and Steve pretends he doesn't hear Mrs. Sinclair calling Claudia on the phone to verify this story she's being fed. Claudia must vouch for him, and of course she would, because Claudia loves him.

After the dishes are washed, Steve walks down the driveway, and gets in his car, rolling the windows down. It's too warm, even after dark. But the summer breeze feels good against his still sore face, and he cruises through neighborhood after neighborhood. Smelling the lingering charcoal cookouts, and hearing a smattering of fireworks still being set off. He's not sure he'll ever be able to look at the Fourth of July the same again. Not with the kind of fireworks he experienced in that mall.

When he pulls up to a stop sign, he hears a band playing live music. It's a little rough, but he pauses in front of the house when catches sight of the open garage door, and sees four or five guys rocking out. A blur of motion and jumping around.

They're definitely entertaining themselves.

He doesn't recognize the song they're playing, but he's not sure if that's because they're bad or if he just doesn't know the song. He thinks it's the latter. 

Easing along the curb, he brakes so he can listen a little longer. In no hurry to get home. He squints, but he's not sure who they are. His vision has been kinda fucked since the other day, and he's getting concerned that it might not ever go back to normal.

Oh well. He'll deal with it, as is. His hearing is a bit iffy in his left ear, and he's figured out how to compensate for that. He can do the same with his eyes, if need be.

When they shift into AC/DC he's positive he just didn't know the last song. They really aren't half bad. 

It's not until there's a streak of black running across the lawn, that he realizes it's Eddie Munson's band he's been listening to play. Shit. 

Steve doesn't flee, he just waits for his tongue lashing for daring to do whatever Eddie's gonna excuse him of, just for being on the same street. Eddie has hated him from first sight, ranting about jocks and popularity and for some reason, his hair. Steve's never made any move to change his mind. It's useless. Eddie Munson has no give, no bend, it's his way or no way at all.

Best to avoid him whenever possible.

Eddie leans down into the passenger window, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Steve Harrington rapping on my chamber door."

Steve doesn't think he was rapping on anything, but okay. It's a free country. He's on a public street.

"I didn't realize this was your place," Steve says, because he didn't. He actually had no idea where Eddie lives. You don't seek out Eddie Munson. You cross the street to not deal with his big mouth bullshit whenever possible. Everybody knows that.

Eddie laughs, "This is Gareth's house. I live out at Forest Hills. You know. The trailer park. For the trailer trash."

Steve didn't say that. Steve didn't even think that. But there'll be no convincing Eddie Munson of anything. He thinks what he thinks, and says what he says. The rest of them just have to let it happen. So, Steve doesn't take the bait.

"You guys are pretty good," Steve says instead. A peace offering that'll never be accepted. But it's the truth, and you should tell the truth. Russian truth serum coursing through your veins or not. 

"So you decided to spy on us. Like a little pervert," Eddie accuses, then tugs on the door handle, plopping right into the passenger seat. He immediately starts going through the glove box. Steve doesn't have the energy to stop him, and really? What's he hiding in there? Aspirin? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Let him look.

Eddie seems a little disappointed that he's not riling Steve up more, but Steve can't help that. He's too tired to argue about petty shit with Eddie Munson.

"Take me out to Fair Mart, will ya," he says, but it's not a question. More like a demand. "We need a six-pack."

Steve doesn't argue, just pulls away from the curb, and heads out towards the highway, Eddie Munson in tow.

And there he just thought eating an uncomfortable dinner with the Sinclairs was going to be the weirdest part of his night.

When he wheels up in front of the store, Eddie holds out his hand, "Got any money I can borrow?"

Steve sighs. He knows he won't get a damn dime back from Eddie Munson if he hands anything over, but he still fishes out the bills.

"How 'bout a fake ID? They won't sell to me. You go in."

"Fine," Steve says.

Eddie leans his head out the window, "Get two!"

Steve sighs. Leaving Eddie Munson alone in his car is a recipe for disaster, but he does it anyway. He comes back with two six-packs under his arms, and hands them to Eddie. Eddie immediately cracks one open in the car, putting his feet on Steve's dash. 

The old Steve would have protested. The new Steve's not sure he's got the energy for it. His head already hurts, and listening to Eddie Munson rant and rave about the injustice of being asked to not be rude and destructive isn't worth it. So he just backs out, pulling out onto the highway.

Back in front of their practice garage, Eddie bails out, without so much as a thank you. Leaving his empty beer bottle on the floorboard, slamming the car door as he goes. 

"You're welcome," Steve mutters under his breath, and pulls away from the curb.

Turns out, Eddie Munson is like a tick. Once he's attached, good luck getting him off cleanly without leaving the head behind. A constant, irritating itch, just beneath the skin.

Everywhere Steve goes, there he is, popping out from behind a bush. Wanting something. Needing something. 

He gets it. Find an easy mark, and bleed him dry. Steve's not sure he can actually be a mark if he knows what's happening. Just a sucker for letting Eddie repeatedly try to push his buttons.

"Harrington. We need a favor," Eddie says, standing on Steve's front step, and Steve crosses his arms, but is listening. 

"What?" he asks as he sees the three other members of Eddie's band stomping down the driveway. Swim trunks on, towels slung over their shoulders.

"We are under the impression that you have a pool," Eddie says, smiling like a goddamn wolf.

"The city has a pool. It's like a dollar to get in," Steve says.

"And you have a pool we could use for zero dollars," Eddie argues, and Steve sighs, but opens the door, letting them all inside. He doesn't even know their names. Well, one of them is Gareth. Which one is anybody's guess.

It doesn't matter. He's not using the pool, hasn't for a long time, not really. Not since Barb. 

But if they want to, more power to them, he supposes.

"Might need to skim it," Steve says, "the pool house is over there."

"Oh, sure, make the poor kid be your free labor, Harrington," Eddie bellyaches, but does fetch the pool skimmer. Only, he decides to thrash it against the water, beating it against the surface, splashing, being a general nuisance until one of the other guys grabs it from him and actually starts removing leaves.  

Steve sits in one of the lounge chairs, and is basically ignored as if he's not even there. That's fine. He didn't really expect anything else. It's not like they're his friends.

He watches as they shotgun beers, pilfered from the garage icebox, and smoke cigarettes poolside. Steve feels like he's been thrown back in time. He isn't this guy. Not anymore.

There are monsters in the world. 

He's been tortured. It's hard to take a deep breath, because his chest feels bruised, down deep. His head hurts all the time. His neck is stiff. His eyesight is a little blurry. There's still an annoying ringing in his ear.

Splashing around in the pool that Barb disappeared from isn't at all appealing.

But he learns their names by listening to them talk. Jeff. Goodie. And he figures out which one is Gareth. 

He stands, intending to head back towards the house, when Eddie comes out of nowhere, grabbing him around the waist, yanking him down into the pool with him. 

The old Steve would have loved this, would have enjoyed the roughhousing. Would have been the one to think of it first.

The new Steve shakes out his wet hair and thinks about his now soaked wallet.

He climbs out, and after changing his clothes, Mike shows up on his bike. Steve is ninety-four percent positive Mike's there to drag him off to whatever house has surely been forced into hosting him for dinner tonight.

No more. He's good. He appreciates it. But the babysitter doesn't need babysitting.

"Is that Eddie Munson in your pool?!" Mike screeches.

And Steve nods, at least Eddie Munson is good for something, "Yep. I have company. I can't come to dinner tonight. Sorry."

He's not sorry at all.

Eddie Munson is a nuisance, most definitely, but he just came in handy for an excuse to get out of having to suffer through a dinner with Ted staring at him all night long, looking at him like he knows the ways Steve's touched his daughter. He's not wrong.

Parents love him. Ted Wheeler does not.

"He runs Hellfire Club," Mike says, and Steve doesn't know what that is, "Introduce me. Introduce me. Do it, Steve. Do it. Maybe he'll let us join next year."

So, Steve does. What does he care? Mike can do whatever the fuck he wants as long as it's not a danger to himself or others.

Over the next few days, Steve evades, and the dinner invites eventually peter out. Steve's grateful. He gets what they were doing. He does. But it's not needed. He can take care of himself. Even if he has a headache today. The worst one he's ever had, maybe. Maybe even worse than the one after Billy tried to crack open his skull with that plate. 

He feels nauseous. And that's not being helped by someone ringing the doorbell incessantly. 

Billy's funeral is today. He should go, for Max. The guy tried to kill him, even before he was possessed or whatever. He was an asshole. But he also died fighting on the same side as them. He stood up, and helped them fight back.

That's not nothing. Helping when you can, Steve gets that. He's just lucky he didn't end up getting himself killed in the Byers' house when he took that first stand, picking up that bat, not at all knowing what the fuck he was getting himself into.

Steve can't get out of bed, though. 

The doorbell stops. Then starts up again. 

Henderson, probably.

Steve can't navigate the stairs. He can't. Not right now.

Instead, he yanks open the upstairs window, and the sunlight is too bright. He squeezes his eyes shut, squinting them open a crack.

"Hey! Cut it out."

It sounds weak, but that's the best he can manage right now.

Eddie steps back far enough from the house that Steve can see him, screaming, "What's up, Harrington? I need a favor!"

Of course he does.

"Not so loud. And not today, man," Steve calls back down, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't look at him while they talk. "My head's killing me."

Eddie's quiet. Too quiet, and Steve cracks open an eye. He expects a fight, but Eddie just holds up his hands, saying, "Okay. My bad."

That was far easier than he expected, but Steve closes the window, and yanks the curtains closed again, crawling back into bed.

Steve must have dozed off, because he jerks awake when he hears tapping on his window. He looks over. Through the small sliver the curtains aren't covering, Eddie Munson is holding a sack, waving him over.

Jesus Christ. He must have climbed up the side of the house.

As loath as he is to get up, he does it anyway, pushing up the window and shuffling back to the bed. Eddie will have to take care of the rest.

Eddie does, climbing over the now open window sill. He immediately starts removing stuff from his sack, and the smell of food hits Steve.

"You brought me food?" Steve asks, arm slung over his eyes.

"Don't read too much into it, Harrington," Eddie says, and Steve chuckles. 

"I'm not really hungry," Steve admits.

"I know. Eat it anyway," Eddie says, "Sit up."

Steve does.

Eddie hands him a bowl, and a spoon. Steve hurts too much to argue. He eats.

"Are you poisoning me?" Steve asks as he takes another bite. It's really good, but he's a little suspicious. This is too nice for Eddie Munson.

"Uncle Wayne would never," Eddie says.

"But you might?"

"I'm a loose cannon. Promises can't be made," Eddie says, lounging in Steve's chair, feet up on the desk. "Just eat it." 

Steve does. But he can't help but be curious.

"Why'd you bring me food?" Steve asks. It's very out of character for Eddie. Steve gives, Eddie takes. That's the standard.

This is an anomaly.

Eddie just shrugs, but finally says, "My mom had migraines."

Steve doesn't have a migraine. He has a headache. 

"I don't have a migraine," Steve says.

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Sure."

As soon as he's finished eating, Eddie takes the bowl, and then presses a knee into the mattress, leaning close to Steve's face. Steve swallows, eyes trained on him, waiting to see what he's gonna do next.

He has orange ear plugs pinched between his fingers, and he presses one into Steve's left ear, then one into his right. Steve has to adjust them, has to press them deeper, but Eddie gives him a thumbs up.

Then Eddie slides a black satin sleep mask over Steve's head, resting it over Steve's forehead. It feels like something his mother would wear, and Steve kind of laughs.

"Shut up, it's all they had at Melvald's," Eddie says, and then retreats right back out the window. 

Steve rolls over, pulls the mask down over his eyes and sleeps better than he has in weeks. 

Maybe Eddie Munson isn't all bad.

A few days later, Steve is the one that seeks Eddie out. He finds them in Gareth's garage, where they spend most days. He puts in his earplugs, taking a bit of the edge off, as he sits down to listen to Eddie and his band play. Eddie kicks open a cooler, an offer, and they don't really pay much attention to him after that.

They play. Steve listens, the sound slightly dampened by the earplugs. 

Corroded Coffin, the banner in the garage declares. 

When they wind down, sweaty and tired, Eddie comes over and plops down on the closed cooler lid.

"We play at The Hideout on Tuesday. Wanna come?"

Yeah, Steve thinks he does, actually. He nods, and the smile Eddie shoots him gives Steve unexpected butterflies in his stomach. 

"I'll be there," Steve agrees.

"Good, we need a roadie. It doesn't pay," Eddie says, and Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie cackles, slapping him on the knee. He's kidding. 

Steve knows he's kidding, now. He kind of wonders how much of Eddie Munson has always been misunderstood. Yes, he's abrasive. And kind of rude. But maybe some of it has just been for his own entertainment.

And if an Eddie that hates you is hard to shake, Steve's pretty sure an Eddie that likes you might be even worse.

To his shock, he's kind of interested in finding out.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the May Mayhem Bingo Event!

Notes: I know we all (myself included!) often tend to run with the idea that nobody worries about Steve, because Steve's not the squeaky wheel, begging for grease. But I thought, what happens if they ALL worry about him after the mall. 🥺

Fun fact: I originally wrote in after the fourth fireworks being illegal (not true in Indiana) and the illegal open container (also not true at the time in Indiana) before thinking to google those details. It was the wild west over in Hawkins. 🤣

[riality-check]

The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

“Ow, not so hard man.” Eddie seems to be absolutely fascinated with Steve’s leg hair. Which, okay, Steve kind of understands, Eddie has neither legs nor leg hair, so he gets why it would be weird. He kind of wishes Eddie wouldn’t tug quite so hard though.

Eddie’s just demolished a big bowl of green things, and Steve’s sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water where Eddie’s hovering, touching Steve’s skin with his slightly warmer than pool water temperature fingers. He’s scratching a little too, but it’s only a tiny bit, very gently, so Steve doesn’t mind. Eddie clearly doesn’t intend to harm him, and seems more fascinated with the thin white lines he’s leaving on Steve’s tanned skin.

Eddie gives a particularly vicious tug, Steve jerks, “Ow! Fuck. No, no more. Finished.” He sits up, pulling his legs clear of the water, waving Eddie away.

“Inied?”

“Yeah, finished. Ow. It hurts. You hurt me.”

Eddie tilts his head, swimming closer, “Steeee. Ow.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, ow. I’ll be back later.”

“I’m sure. Steve is the only one who feeds him, right?”

Steve and Robin both nod.

“Right, so, from his point of view, if he interpreted that as Robin trying to like, harm Steve, then his food supply would be jeopardized. He's just, resource guarding or whatever.”

“So...no play fighting within Eddie flopping distance?”

Dustin nods, “pretty much yeah, anything that could be interpreted as risk to Steve, I guess. Or, when Robin is here, she takes Eddie his food. Or anyone really, anytime anyone else is here. That way Eddie will start to see Steve isn’t his only resource.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s probably a good idea anyway,” Steve easily agrees, the now bare patches on his shins are still kind of stinging.

Robin returns with her bowl still full of veg, “he just won’t touch it. There’s still peas floating in the pool from last time.”

Steve sighs, “I really don’t know why he’s being like this.”

“Maybe he’s just pissed at me,” she shoves the bowl at Dustin, “you try.”

They all watch through the window as Dustin heads to the pool. They can tell from how he’s standing that Eddie’s at the end furthest away. Dustin kneels, tries offering things. It’s not long before he quits and comes back.

“How long did it take before he would eat? Maybe we just need to persevere?”

Robin disagrees, “once we figured what he would eat, it was pretty much straight away he was taking stuff from Steve.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s like, a trust thing, so if we stick this out long enough, eventually he will get hungry enough to give in, right?”

“We’re not doing that,” it just immediately strikes Steve as cruel, “he’s not put on enough weight yet for us to be fucking with his food supply.”

“Okay...okay yeah.”

Steve blinks awake. He’s not sure what woke him, but he’s almost certain he just heard something. He lies still straining to listen and yeah, he definitely heard something. Something or someone moving around downstairs. Steve quietly shifts, groping for the nail bat leaning against the wall as he slides out of bed, his heart feels like it's crawling up into his throat. He almost hopes it's a regular old burglary and not, like, monsters.

He creeps downstairs, luckily he was already sleeping in a tank top and shorts. He’s nearly to the bottom of the stairs when he hears it; a clunking noise and then, “Steee.”

He carefully puts the bat down immediately; figures Eddie got into the house somehow. Steve allows himself a moment to calm down, breathe deep and slow for a minute even as, in his head, he's calling Dustin a little shithead and blaming him for leaving the back door unlocked.

At the bottom of the stairs he can peer around the corner to see Eddie sitting in the hall. It’s light enough for Steve to make out that Eddie’s sitting quite tall, his tail curled into an ‘s’ shape underneath him. He has the phone from the hall side table held carefully next to his head, exactly like...well...like a regular person on the phone would, and while Steve is there, he says, “Steee,” uncertainly into the receiver.

For a moment, Steve is tempted to sneak up to the phone in his parents room and lift the receiver so he can answer Eddie, but quickly dismisses it; Eddie’s limited vocabulary makes it kind of pointless, anyway.

“Hey Eddie,” Steve steps off the bottom step.

“Stee!” Eddie turns to Steve, it's almost strange to see him without his sunglasses on now, and his eyes reflect what little light there is in a strange, silvery flash. He seems to remember then that he's holding something, forgotten for a second with the clear excitement of finding Steve, and he replaces the receiver on the cradle with surprising care; Steve wonders vaguely if he was just listening to the dial tone.

Eddie moves through the house, walking on his hands and using a unexpectedly efficient twist of his tail to push him along; he’s much more comfortable on land than Steve would have given him credit for. He stops and looks back, clearly waiting for Steve to follow him. Steve does. Dutifully following Eddie through the house, and it’s not until Steve’s at the door that he realizes it's not Dustin's fault at all – the spare key is in the lock. He doesn’t keep one out front – that’s just asking for trouble – but he keeps one out back. One that is only for absolute emergencies only, and it’s very specifically under the third plant pot along. Eddie must have seen Robin or one of the kids let themselves in and then just...worked it out for himself.

Well, huh, Steve thinks as he follows Eddie out into the yard and across the grass, past the pool and along to the tree line.

Steve wonders vaguely if Eddie actually does this often, getting out of the pool and exploring at night; he doesn’t seem to struggle, and he clearly knows where he’s going, passing through the tree line at the bottom of the yard and then a little further in.

Eddie comes to a stop, and when Steve gets there he sees what Eddie is looking at. It’s a bird. A pigeon probably, like a wood pigeon or something, if Steve’s very limited knowledge of birds is to be believed. It’s lying on the grass, clearly dead.

Steve crouches and watches as Eddie, very gently strokes the fluffy breast feathers of the bird, “Ow. Inied.”

Steve sighs he guesses finished is one way to put it, “yeah, yeah buddy. Uhm. Dead,” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand away, “dead. Don’t touch it. It’s dead.”

“Dead,” Eddie cocks his head.

“Yeah,” Steve yawns, getting sleepy again now the adrenaline’s died down and there’s clearly no danger, “come on, back to bed. Or, you know, the pool.”

Eddie’s reluctant to move at first, but then does when Steve gestures, sliding soundlessly back into the water.

“See you tomorrow buddy.”

“Budidy. Edidie.”

“Yeah, near enough.”

“Do you think he killed the bird?”

“Nah, there wasn’t any obvious like, injury or anything. And you should have seen how gentle he was with it Robs...it was like he felt bad, you know.”

She hums in agreement, “he must have seen someone at the lab use a phone, do you think?”

Steve figured the same, once he’d finished his night’s sleep and actually pondered on it. “Pretty sure he doesn’t know how to actually use it, he was just copying. But the fact that he worked out they were using it to talk to other people, that’s pretty smart, right?”

“Maybe we can teach him to use it?” Robin eats more waffle with her fingers, smearing the broken up bits through the cream. They’re sitting out on the pool chairs for breakfast.

“Dunno, numbers and stuff. A walkie though? I think he might be able to-”

“Steee! Steeee!” Eddie calls him from the water, arms resting on the sides. He’s smiling, looking happy, shades firmly in place today.

“What buddy?”

Eddie points confidently at the sky, “dead!”

Steve looks up; birds. There’s birds flying over.

“Oh no- birds. Eddie those are birds.”

He looks so confused, but Steve suddenly has an idea, “where you going dingus?”

“Be right back a second,” Steve heads into the lounge and runs his fingers along the lowest shelf of books, easily finding the thick children's encyclopedia he got for his birthday one year when he was little. He’s never even opened it, thought it was a shit present, but it’ll do for this.

He opens it on his way back to the pool, finding a page with a big colorful picture of loads of birds on it, sitting by the side of the pool where Eddie can see, “bird.”

“Buurd,” Eddie drags the word out, definitely making it more than a ‘u’ than an ‘i’ sound, but it’s definitely near enough.

“Yeah that’s right,” Steve lays the book out on the edge of the pool, “don’t get it too wet.”

Eddie tilts his head, “et.”

Steve slaps the water, “wet. Uhm.” Tapping the book, Steve says, “finished.”

Eddie looks at his hands, frowning.

“Right, wait,” Steve goes and grabs a towel, left forgotten on a pool chair, and brings it to the edge, “here,” Eddie’s close enough for Steve to take his hands easily, “wet,” after a moment of ruffling Eddie’s hands with the towel, Steve tells him, “dry.” Then he taps the book, “dry. Wet finished.”

He waits to see what Eddie will do, but he holds his hands carefully out of the water before he lifts himself to touch the book.

Steve turns to a page at random, showing Eddie a page with all sorts of big cats on it, lions and tigers and stuff like that, “go on, you do it.”

Steve gestures at Eddie, and, cautiously as he lets his elbows take his weight, Eddie carefully turns the page.

Part five

[fandoms-in-law]

Muddy Letters - The Re-Beginning

Authors Note: I have 2 possible summaries for this fic and neither really work for posting it all in one story. Instead both the summary I want to use and the story is in 3 parts: The Re-Beginning (you are here), The Beginnging, The Conclusion

Contrary to normal expectations, I suggest reading the Re-beginning first.

Summary: It begins again with Dustin helping Steve pack up his room.

/\/\

Dustin hadn’t been snooping. He Hadn’t! He’d been helping Steve pack his room up, going through the drawers just like he’d been asked to, barely even looking at the bank statement, photo albums, love letters never given to Nancy and, okay, maybe he was using helping as an excuse to snoop.

This discovery was one he wouldn’t have been able to ignore even if he wasn’t snooping.

Why would Steve keep a bundle of muddy envelopes? Also why would he have wrapped it in a velvet black ribbon?

Just the appearance of the bundle had Dustin confounded and curious.

He was going to read whatever letters were in the envelopes and had already undone the ribbon when Steve returned with cookies and drinks for them. “Where’d you find those? I’ve been looking for them.” He asked, immediately taking the letters away, almost before the tray was set down.

“Middle drawer. What are they?” He asked, trying to take one back.

Steve glared, pulling them further away. “Private. And letters from a childhood friend.”

“Come on, you can trust me.” Dustin tried to coax only to freeze when the glare deepened.

“Not with secrets that aren’t mine to share.” The words were final and hung in the air for a moment until Steve handed one of the cookies to Dustin and stood, taking the letters out of the room with him.

~

The muddy letters stayed on Dustin’s mind as he finished packing the drawers and helped Steve pack his clothes into 3 suitcases and a charity donations bag. By the time they paused for lunch, he wanted to know more again.

“Does Robin know about the letters?” He asked, certain she was the only person possible closer to Steve than he was.

“No, but she’d agree with me keeping the secrets in them.” The reply was barely thought about as a knock came on the door.

Letting himself in, Eddie greeted them, leaning close to Steve, “You look tense, Stevie. Has Dustin been that annoying?”

With a heavy breath, Steve relaxed, “Not really, just found something I thought I’d lost.”

“Sounds mysterious. Can I know what?” Dustin perked up at the questions, hoping he’d also get answers over the letters now.

Instead Steve stood, “I’ll show you. Just don’t take them from me?” He asked, glancing over sharply when Dustin moved to follow them. “Dustin, stay here and eat your lunch or I’ll take you home right now.”

He groaned, sitting down again. “It’s not fair to leave me out of this.” He called after them before focusing on hearing everything he could without leaving the kitchen.

There wasn’t much he could hear at first, indistinct voices as they chatted until Eddie exclaimed “That was you?”

Silence fell then and if Dustin had been less concerned over Steve’s unexpected strictness, he’d have gone to find them, ask what was Steve and if it explained anything about the muddy bundle.

~

It felt like forever before Steve and Eddie returned and he was glaring as soon as he could hear their footsteps. “So I can’t see them, but you immediately tell Eddie what they are?”

“Didn’t need to. All I told him was that I have them.” Steve countered, “And you don’t know, or need to know, everything about my life.”

Dustin frowned, slouching in his seat, “Can you at least tell me why they’re covered in mud?”

“I was an outdoorsy kid.” The sentence didn’t explain anything so far as Dustin was concerned and he was set on reading those letters now.

“Eurgh, why are you being so secretive.” He complained, hoping that would get Steve to realise this was a jerk move.

Eddie laughed, expression clearly seeing what he was trying and knowing it would fail when Dustin looked over at him, recognising a moment after that it had been the condescending laugh he used for royal NPCs. “King’s can have their secrets courtiers aren’t informed of, Dusty. Drop the interrogation before it stops being amusing.”

“Fine,” He pouted before brightening as an idea came to mind, “You’re going to need help unpacking in your new place, right Steve?”

Even as Steve and Eddie focused on discussing this move, Dustin was thinking about the letters and how he’d find a way to read them.

~

“Did you know Steve and Eddie have secrets, Robin?” Dustin asked, hurrying over as soon as he entered Family Video and didn’t see Steve anywhere.

She looked over at him, uninterested, “Yeah. They’ve mentioned it.”

“And you aren’t asking more?” He exclaimed, astounded by her lack of interest.

“Nope.” She straightened only to shrug. “They’ve told me enough and invoked Scoops. I’m not pushing for those secrets.”

Dustin frowned. If it was Erica invoking Scoops meant ice cream. If he did it to Steve, it was usually either wanting back up or to remind Steve he’s important. He’d never considered what invoking Scoops meant between Steve and Robin because it hadn’t happened before. It wasn’t nice to discover that it meant secrets stay secret.

“I’m going to find out what they’re hiding.” He resolved and left without the film he’d meant to rent.

[stevie-petey]

i just know steve was buggin the hell out of bug while dustin was away at summer camp… like however miserable y’all think he was… he was acting like it was a zillion times worse and i just know bug was over his ass

hi and ur absolutely right that he was INSUFFERABLE

enjoy <3

"the house just isnt the same without him."

"you dont live here."

"its just so quiet now, so empty."

"again, you dont live here."

steve slumps further onto the couch, groaning as if in physical pain. "god i miss his laugh."

"dustin left yesterday," you hit the back of his head, annoyed, and its forceful enough to cut off his incessant groaning. "and im begging you, please shut up."

steve grabs your hand before you can hit him again. he tugs just enough to offset your balance, sending you stumbling onto his waiting body. he tries to hide his pleased smile in your neck, continuing his groveling act with a faux pout. "but i miss your brother."

"you cant stand him most days." you argue, nose hitting steves cheek as you talk. youre angled awkwardly and yet his arms still feel like home.

steve hums, drawing circles in your back. "yeah, but now i miss him."

"how ever will you survive a whole month without dustin henderson?" your fingers tug at his hair, teasing.

"im serious, angel. i miss that shithead. i mean, sure he can be really annoying and i think he stole money out of my wallet the other day-"

you poke his cheek. "unconfirmed."

he swats your hand away playfully. "anyways, regardless of his concerning pickpocketing ways, dustins actually endearing when he wants to be."

"henderson charm," you smile wide. "its hard to hate us."

through the cream curtains the afternoon june sun creeps into the living room in fragmented rays. a rare day where you arent at the bookstore and steve isnt at scoops. just the two of you alone in your childhood home, hiding from the heat and welcoming the delicate sun.

the beams of sunlight streak across your face and dance in your smile lines. eyes alight, steves fingers gently skim the crest of your cheekbones in a childish experiment to make sure youre real.

"yeah," he says softly, voice dripping honey. "annoyingly hard to hate."

the tenderness in his eyes knocks what little air remains in your lungs. youre always left breathless around him. a byproduct of his beauty and kind heart.

"well," you turn your head, unable to hold steves almost lovesick gaze. its too soon. too much. not yet. you lay back down and listen to his heartbeat instead. "looks like its just you and me for the summer."

his fingers dig into the exposed skin of your waist. "oh no," he sighs out. "what a nightmare."

you pinch his side lightly, eliciting a clear laugh and affectionate squeeze, encasing you in his arms. steves laughter settles as you settle against his body. his fingers play with your hair. your lips press against his neck.

a comfortable silence takes over

what a nightmare indeed.

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[mugloversonly]

I'm Coming Out

@genderthings Eddie’s gender week day 3 prompt “tie/trans” | rating: G | transwoman Eddie Munson summary: Eddie comes out to the party. AO3

Eddie took a deep breath as Robin put the finishing touches on her hair. She took her black bandanna and tied it into a cute headband bow, pulling pieces of Eddie’s curls down to frame her face. Today she wanted to look perfect; she was coming out to the party today. She’s been out to Robin for nearly a year. She smiled at her girlfriend when she remembered that conversation. She’d been so nervous.

~~~

It was the first time Robin came over to the trailer alone, but Eddie couldn’t do this in front of an audience. She wanted to tell Robin first since she knew about her sexuality. Eddie hoped the solidarity would give her confidence.

“Robin. I need to tell you something.” She began. “It’s kind of hard to say.” Robin grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you. You’re my best friend.” She smiled. Eddie nodded and took a deep breath.

“I’m trans.” She mumbled. Robin furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m actually a girl. Is that okay?” Robin didn’t answer for a minute and Eddie panicked. She stood and began pacing around the living room. “I’m sorry. I know that maybe that does change things between us but I really needed you to know because you’re my best friend and I couldn’t hide this from you anymore and I have a huge crush on you and I know that maybe that doesn’t matter because of what’s downstairs but I still thought you should know. Robin please say something.” Eddie rambled before she froze and stared at the other girl. Robin slowly stood, took Eddie’s hand again, and led her to sit down.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me. I’m really proud of you, this doesn’t change anything between us.” Robin said. Eddie sighed in relief. “Good.” She hugged the other girl.

Robin helped Eddie find her style and she was free to be her real self around her. A few months after she came out, Robin asked her out on a date.

“Really? Even though I have a…” She trailed off and curled into herself.

“I will admit, I don’t know my way around one,” Robin began. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn. You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met and you’re my best friend so I know we’ll click personality wise.” Eddie giggled and nodded.

~~~

They’ve been together ever since and Robin was Eddie’s biggest support. The only other person in the group who knew about Eddie was Steve. It was partially an accident. Robin made a comment about the two of them dating and confused the shit out of poor Steve. He showed up in the middle of the night to break the news to her that Robin was a lesbian and was probably using Eddie as a beard. His heart was in the right place but the warning was ultimately unnecessary.

The knock on the door broke Eddie out of her thoughts.

“It’ll be okay, babe. And if not, you’ll still have me and Steve.” She promised. Eddie nodded and let the party into the trailer.

“Come in, sit down.” Eddie gestured to her small living room. The group piled in and Eddie gulped at the handful of weird looks she got for her outfit. She hadn’t wanted to startle the group, but she didn’t want to hide either. She wore a simple summer dress, her legs were freshly shaved. Once everyone settled, Eddie stood in front of the TV to address the whole room.

“Um…” She began. Her hands shook. Suddenly, she wanted to run and hide under her covers. Steve gave her a thumbs up and Robin smiled encouragingly.

“Man, what are wearing?” Mike chimed in, bordering on disgust.

“What does it look like, shithead?” Steve growled.

“Guys!” Argyle yelled before there could be anymore comments. “Let him continue.” Eddie flinched at the words even as she appreciated the sentiment.

“I’m not…” She took a deep breath but couldn’t continue. Steve clocked the helplessness in her face and stood to wrap her up in a hug.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Dustin asked. The annoyance at being left out of the loop, clear in his tone.

“Take your time.” Steve whispered. Since he knew the truth, Steve has been her biggest cheerleader aside from Robin. He fought someone at the queer bar the other day for saying shit to her, and he actually won!

She felt another body pressed to her back and smiled when she realized it was Robin. She grasped her girlfriend’s hands and absorbed their warmth.

“Can I tell them like this?” She whispered. Steve nodded and crab walked them around until Eddie’s head peaked out from the middle of the hug circle.

“I’m transgender.” She admitted quietly. The group burst into loud questions from left to right.

“One at at time.” Robin spat.

“What’s transgender?” Lucas asked.

“You cannot be that dumb.” Erica raised her eyebrows at her brother. He pushed her shoulder. She pushed back and the two entered into a slap fight until Jonathon put a stop to it.

“It means you were born in the wrong body, right?” Nancy asked. Eddie nodded.

“Where’s the right body?” El asked innocently.

“I’ll explain that one to you later, okay?” Jonathon promised.

“That’s why you’re wearing a dress, man?” Mike sneered. Eddie shrunk in on herself just a bit. Max smacked him on the back of the head.

“I think she looks beautiful.” She said with a harsh glare at the boy. Eddie’s cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Yeah, yellow really is your color. Who woulda thought with the way you normally dress.” Erica interjected.

Dustin stared at her in contemplation, like she was a hard jigsaw puzzle.

“You told Steve before you told me?” He asked, poorly disguised hurt bleeding through. “I thought you trusted me.” Eddie pulled out of the hug and went to sit next to him.

“It’s not about that. I planned on telling everyone at the same time but I needed to tell Steve before because…” She trailed off. She didn’t know if Robin wanted to keep it a secret but before she could ask, another question popped up.

“Wait, are you dating Steve?” Will whispered. Robin and Steve gasped but for different reasons.

“Um, no! She’s my girlfriend thank you.” Robin blurted out. Eddie whipped around to look at her in shock and laughed when she saw Steve’s hand pressed to Robin’s mouth.

“Eddie already came out once today!” He exclaimed.

“So you’re a lesbian?” Erica asked. Robin nodded since Steve’s hand still blocked her mouth.

“That’s why you never wanted to date Steve.” Dustin threw his hands in the air like that explained everything. And to Dustin, maybe it did.

Eddie answered a few more questions from the group before Steve suggested they move the party to his house so they could all watch a movie and have a sleep over. Max asked to ride over alone with Eddie and she could never say no to the little gremlin. She pressed a soft kiss to Robin’s cheek before they went toward their separate rides.

As the two got into Eddie’s van to drive to Steve’s, Max stared at her hands. Something was on her mind, but Eddie knew better than to ask.

“Fuck Mike Wheeler.” She mumbled. Eddie snorted at the deadpan delivery even though she agreed. “He shouldn’t have acted like that.”

“Well, Mike Wheeler is a notorious shithead so, I expected worse.” She admitted.

“What Nancy said, about being born in the wrong body.” Max continued. “Can that go the other way?”

Eddie’s eyes widened but she tried to remain calm. She was about to have her first queer mentor moment.

“Like can a girl feel like she was supposed to be born as a boy?” Eddie asked just to clarify. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Max’s nod.

“Yeah. It can go the other way. Do you...know someone who might feel that way?” Eddie didn’t want to force Max to confess anything, but she wasn’t about to slam the door in her face.

“Sometimes...I do.” Max whispered. Eddie took another deep breath and pulled over to the side of the road.

“Thank you for sharing that.” Eddie turned to face Max. “If you feel that way, sometimes or all the time, it’s real. You can talk to me about this stuff, okay? I promise I won’t think of you any differently.” Max nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes so Eddie started back to the Harrington house. As the parked outside, Max’s hand paused on the car door handle.

“Hey Eddie? I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said you look great in that dress.” Max smiled and popped out of the car.

Eddie sat in the driver’s seat for a few more minutes lost in thought. Did she just gain another little brother?

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[lovebugism]

Hiii can i request shy reader whos anxious about different things? I have weird anxiety lol that makes it hard for me to eat in front of people until im comfortable around them. Can i request reader x Steve who have been dating for a while and she tries to avoid eating around him, but she finally gets comfortable and Steve is just so happy, thank you!!

hope you like it angel :D — steve takes care of his anxious gf at a family barbecue (established relationship, hurt/comfort ish, cw for mentions of anxiety and unexplained issues with food | 1.1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The picnic table in Steve’s backyard is hardly big enough for all of you. Even when Max and El agree to lay out on a blanket together some feet away — and when Lucas and Erica spontaneously decide to race each other to the pool — it’s still an achingly tight fit. 

You, in particular, are sandwiched between two bodies much larger than yours. Eddie sits to your right, lacking any real concept of personal space, and Steve is off to your left. The latter keeps a strong arm around your back, hugging you closer to his chest every time the wild-haired boy accidentally knocks into you.

“Okay, me and Nance are getting something to eat,” Robin announces, standing suddenly from the table, visibly overstimulated from the constant conversation. Her eyes flit to your cowering form and then to Steve’s protective one. “You guys have fun with… this.”

It takes all of ten seconds for the others to follow behind them. Dustin and Eddie file through the Harrington family barbecue together, filling their decorative paper plates like they’re at an actual buffet. Mike and Will walk on pale, lanky legs around the yard — stopping once to talk to Max and El, then again by the pool with Lucas and Erica.

You and Steve are the only ones still sitting, but he hugs you to him like you aren’t. 

You can feel the early summer breeze on your skin now, without the crowd of teenagers suffocating you. You can hear the whispering wind, and the gentle humming of his pool, and the sounds of quieter conversation in the distance. You can breathe again. Almost. Still slightly strangled by a distant worry that Steve can read from here.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders cautiously, ‘cause he knows how you are about food. You haven’t let him in on the extent of it yet, but he knows it’s there, so he’s obscenely patient with you accordingly.

You glance once over your shoulder — at the tables of grilled meat and food cooked with love. Your stomach rolls with a distant ache, an empty one. You turn back to Steve and shrink under the weight of his honey-eyed stare. “Um… Kinda,” you confess in a mousy voice, shifting on the wooden bench.

His eyes widen in a soft look of surprise. You usually take a little more coaxing than that. 

“Want me to make you a plate?” he offers, squeezing your shoulder with a gentle hand. His pink lips quirk in a sympathetic smile. “We can take it up to my room if you want— get away from all these freaks.”

Your chest warms at his efforts to accommodate you. The way he loves you makes you brave. 

“That’s okay,” you shrug, trying to be cool even though your voice trembles. “We can... We can stay down here.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. It bubbles up like sunshine until he’s beaming with it. 

It took you months to feel comfortable enough to eat in front of just him. And here you are now, utterly adored and finally brave enough to eat with all the rest of his shithead friends around.

“Yeah?” he hums, still smiling.

“Yeah,” you nod, gaze averted to your hands, which are wringing something fierce in your lap. You force a small laugh. “But it wouldn’t be, like, totally lame if I asked you to come with me, would it?”

Steve scoffs. “Like you even have to. I’m not let you get to the corndogs before me,” he jokes and rises from the creaking bench. “We’ll be lucky if Robin and Henderson don’t eat ‘em all first.”

He gets you laughing so you don’t think twice about meandering across the yard with him — about the eyes that are or are not watching you, or the weird way you are or are not walking. 

And because he keeps you laughing (and largely unthinking), you end up stacking your plate with more food than Steve’s ever seen you eat in public before. He almost mentions it. Almost. But he opts to keep his pride to himself, instead, lest he ruin the moment.

You return to the picnic table with all his friends, noticeably less anxious about being so squished together than before. 

And maybe it’s because Dustin and Eddie can’t eat anything without being sloppy — or maybe it’s because Will’s keeping you distracted with talks of his newest D&D campaign — but you down your food with more ease than Steve’s ever seen from you. Unworried about the crumbs sticking to your fingers and the very corner of your mouth. Completely and utterly comfortable here with him, and with everyone else around you.

The sight makes his heart swell. 

It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

He catches you alone for the first time when you’re tossing empty plates. It’s not exactly the most ideal spot to steal a kiss from you — by the deck, next to the garbage bins — but it’s the first either of you have been out of sight from prying eyes all day. 

So, Steve takes the opportunity and grabs it. Literally. He cradles your wrist in a gentle hand and ushers you closer towards him. Your feet stumble in the tall grass. The tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours, and you flinch. 

“I taste like cheeseburger,” you laugh.

“I don’t care,” Steve shrugs, face screwed, visibly mourning your mouth. “I taste like barbecue. Who gives a shit?”

He ducks down to kiss you again. And this time, you let him. 

He kisses you harder than you anticipated — a long and languid peck that takes your breath away. He tastes faintly of all the food he’d eaten before, something savory and strawberry sweet. It leaves you dizzy when he pulls away, lips smacking softly as they part.

“What was that for?” you wonder breathlessly a moment later.

Steve bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His kissed lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Nothin’. I’m just… I’m just proud of you, I guess.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further. He doesn’t have to. You cower at the notion of being perceived and scrunch your nose in disdain. “For being a normal person?” you joke with a cynical scoff. “For once?”

“No. For doing something that was hard for you,” Steve argues, still smiling. His hands rest warm and wide on the outside of your elbows. His thumbs rub softly along the skin there. “And for lookin’ real cute while you were doing it, too.”

You squint, trying hard not to smile at his smiling. 

“Stop flirting with me,” you grouse.

The boy’s pink lips jut in a playful pout. “But why?” he whines. “That’s, like, my favorite pastime.”

[harringroveobsessed]

For @harringrovewinterbingo prompt: A1 -Accidental Kiss.

“Mmm, thanks baby,” Steve hums, leaning into Billy’s space to press a soft kiss against his lips as he gratefully accepts the glass of water he’s handed.

Steve pulls back an inch, confused when his usual warm, perpetual cuddlebug during a movie Billy morphs before his eyes into a stiff, eyes wide open with terror Billy. He twists to follow Billy’s horrified gaze which is landing somewhere over Steve’s shoulder and… oh fuck.

Steve has been told he’s an idiot more times than he can count at this point, but he’s really gone and earned the title this time. Shit, Billy is going to kill him. Steve’s dead, deader than dead, there isn’t a word in the English language for how dead he’s going to be.

“Oh my god, you call him baby?” Max groans in disgust, her cheeks glowing as red as her hair, “You guys are so fucking gross.”

Steve can barely hear her over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. It was an accident; Jesus Christ he forgot the kids were even here. In his defence, Steve was barely awake, the kids put freaking Star Wars on for the hundredth time this month and he’s yet to make it through one of those movies awake. And the little shits were so quiet for once, all draped out of sight on the floor and Steve was comfy and sleepy and just… shit it was an accident, Billy can’t kill him over an accident!

Swallowing nervously Steve hazards a glance in Billy’s direction hating what he finds there, Billy looks more terrified now than he ever looked facing down the Mindflayer. Steve feels a little sick at the look on his boyfriend’s face and a lot sick that he’s the one that put it there. A year, a whole damn year of being so careful and he’s blown it with one stupid accidental kiss.

Nobody knows about them besides Robin – who is also wide eyed on Billy’s left and gripping his arm so tight that Steve can see the white marks blooming around her fingertips – and that’s only because she was the one who finally got tired of their “gay yearning bullshit” and told them to make a move before she dies of old age. It’s not that Steve doesn’t trust the kids, he knows they can keep a secret but they both thought it wise to keep a lid on it until they finally got out of Hawkins at least. But now. Well the lids blown right off.

It's coming on to just over two minutes of silence (Steve’s secretly impressed the shitheads lasted this long) when he realises he’s not said anything, Billy hasn’t said anything, nobody has said anything.

His hand has all but seized up around the glass he’s still holding and the silence is stifling, Steve isn’t quite sure how to play this off. Could he get away with hauling Billy off the sofa, into his car and fleeing the country? Maybe…he and Billy are faster than the kids after all. Or perhaps he could convince all six of them they had some kind of shared hallucination, tell them he’s heard whispers there is some psycho going around Melvald’s putting psychedelics into the soda. It wouldn’t be terribly out of left field but… shit no. Joyce works there doesn’t she, Will would know if that was true.

Steve is forcibly drawn out of his increasingly wild thoughts by an odd, spluttering sound from down on the carpet. Are one of the kids choking? Shit, he’s killed one of his kids, kids who faced down monsters from another dimension, killed by the image of Steve kissing his boyfriend. How is he going to explain this to Hopper or fuck, in court?!

Suddenly the sound filters its way into his brain and Steve realises someone isn’t choking, El is giggling.

The sound has Steve finally lifting his gaze from where it’s been burning a hole into his mom’s pristine carpet. El has set off a chain reaction it seems, now all six of the little shits are laughing, Dustin is crying as he cackles like a loon.

“The fuck is so fuckin’ funny?” Billy grunts.

Dustin has to catch his breath, wheezing through another howling laugh, “You guys are sooo bad at this, oh my god!”

Lucas snorts so loudly that Steve’s neighbours probably heard which dissolves the group into another bout of hysterical laughter. Steve turns to Billy and Robin for help and while Billy’s glare has only turned more murderous, Robin is laughing right along with them, only laughs louder when she catches Steve’s frown.

“They know Steve.” Robin chuckles.

“W- wait, what. You guys... you guys know about me and Billy. How?”

“Don’t you mean your baby?” Max chokes out setting off another ripple of hysterical giggles, “We’ve known for like forever, the heart eyes when you’re around each other are less than subtle.”

Steve feels himself flushing with embarrassment and when Billy leans in to get a closer look at the kids his cheeks are also painted a pretty pink.

While Billy still looks cautious, he’s smirking now as he reaches to clasp Steve’s hand in his own. Steve slumps against him dazed and still confused but he can’t help but smile back at Billy in relief. People found out and it’s fine, the world is still turning, and the kids are just making fun of them as usual.

Will, always the peacemaker grins at them both in turn, “We were waiting for you to tell us, we’re all fine with it obviously, but we didn’t want to make you guys uncomfortable. You hadn’t told us for a reason I guess.”

“I mean you could have just said something instead of starting to basically make out in front of us.” Mike shudders pointing an accusatory finger in Steve’s direction.

Scowling down at the kid in faux outrage Steve whines, “It was an ACCIDENT!”

He feels a tug at his side and all of a sudden Steve is hauled onto Billy’s lap. Billy is grinning wolfishly now; all teeth and tongue, Steve is so beyond relieved to see the familiar expression replace the mask of terror it was before.

“You haven’t seen making out yet Wheeler, try and stop me now I know I don’t gotta hold back.” Billy teases. “C’mere Bambi.”

Steve ducks down to meet Billy’s lips and to the sound of the party screaming in horror as the background, Steve kisses his boyfriend.

And this time, it was on purpose.

[steveseddie]

sweet as pumpkin pie

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin” 

read on ao3

Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise. 

Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder. 

So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–

“Dustin?”  

“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.

His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?” 

“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral. 

He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap. 

“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.

“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”

“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.

“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”

“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”

“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty. 

“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!” 

Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”

Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”

“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”

“I need you to bake me something, duh.”

Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”

Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”

“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“It’s the same thing!”

Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”

“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”

“I can do it.”

Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?” 

“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid. 

Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?” 

“Yup.”

Steve finds himself asking, “How?” 

Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”

Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing. 

“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”

“Uh, pumpkin?”

Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”

“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.

“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”

“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.

“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.” 

Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”

Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”

Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van. 

He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.

“Wait– we?”

***

Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need. 

Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”

“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape. 

Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead. 

“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix. 

Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust. 

Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.

And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it. 

Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna. 

Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him. 

For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–

He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.

Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.” 

“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them. 

“Where’s Henderson?”

“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door. 

“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”

Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”

The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together. 

Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck. 

Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”

“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.

From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?” 

Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing. 

***

Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust. 

Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”

“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s. 

Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin. 

“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it. 

“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead. 

Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time. 

“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter. 

Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips. 

And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen. 

“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. 

Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two. 

Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. 

Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.

“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven. 

“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long. 

His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room. 

***

“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”

Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”

“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly. 

“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”

Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course, buddy.”

“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder. 

“You better.”

With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts. 

And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back. 

He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here. 

He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!” 

Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”

He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it. 

Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve. 

Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”

Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks. 

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”

Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”

Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. 

“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow. 

He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–

But then he hesitates.

His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him. 

Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips. 

He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside. 

He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.

It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie. 

They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other. 

Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?” 

“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine. 

“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together. 

Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try.