#eddie is autistic
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karmathehalflander · 3 months ago
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Are we at a point in society where we’re ready to talk about how Eddie and Venom are both absolutely autistic and the movies double as a metaphor for nurodivergance as well as queerness and that we really don’t talk about it enough and also I need more fanfic of them being autistic?
Edit: I have now made and posted that in depth post about this if anyone is interested
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sabbathbloodysabbeth · 2 years ago
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Just Eddie getting the zoomies every night he’s downstairs at the Harrington’s house. He’s the one that locks the door and shuts all of the lights off, when he gets the last light off near the stair case he gets the zoomies and runs towards the light. Acting as if somethings behind him. You see this would be normal for what he’s been through but he also makes goblin noises and screams loudly. Steve has gotten used to it to the point where he doesn’t even look up from his book as he tells the other to do one more lap down the hall and back when Eddie seems a bit to fidgety. Because he knows his husband didn’t get all of the energy out. Eddie just listens and goes flying back and forth and then making more noises as he jumps in the bed like somethings going to grab his ankles if he doesn’t get there fast enough.
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redwolfstabs · 1 year ago
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Eddie is autistic and the first time Billy sees the downside of it he’s like “..what is happening?”
Because Eddie is having a meltdown because it was his night to do the dishes for Wayne and he touched something gross and Billy doesn’t know what to do to calm him down
However, Billy does take over doing the dishes while Eddie calms himself down, watching Billy do dishes
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year ago
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Eddie does this... thing. Steve isn't sure if there's a name for it. Or if it's just a thing. Robin always jokes that Eddie's autism is showing. And he just snorts at her and shakes his head, but he keeps doing it, his cheeks tinted pink.
He counts things.
They aren't always things everyone can see. About half the time Eddie is just counting in his head. But he mumbles the numbers outloud, barely audible. But Steve hears it. Steve can't hear much, most of the time, but he somehow always manages to hear Eddie counting. Or at least notices his lips moving, numbers rolling off them genlty.
It calms him down. Steve noticed that fast. Eddie would count his breathing during panic attacks and then when he helped Steve or Robin through their panic attacks, and somewhere along the line, Steve just started,  counting along with him.
Not outloud. And Eddie hadn't noticed him nodding along to the counting, not yet at least. But it never failed. Eddie would start counting and Steve's brain would follow along happily.
They're sitting on Eddie's couch. It's the middle of summer. The air outside is hot and sticky. The air in the trailer isn't much better. But Steve had brought over his personal air conditioner that had been sitting in the garage not being used for years. Eddie had protested but Steve refused to take it back.
The living room was cooler than it had been the last few days. The sun had just gone down. Eddie's thigh was pressed against his, like it normally was these days, heat or not. Eddie would sit himself next to Steve, their sides smooshed together. Steve hadn't moved away, not once, despite the heat.
Eddie was wearing a cut off shirt, Steve was in jean shorts and a lightweight yellow t-shirt. Some movie Steve had never seen was on the tv, but all Steve could focus on was the way Eddie was pressed against him. The warmth of his skin seeping into his ribs.
And then Eddie starts counting.
Steve smiles to himself. Following along. Glancing at Eddie carefully when his counting pauses, like he was searching for the next thing he was counting. Steve had never been brave enough to ask about it. Was just happy Eddie felt safe enough around him to let him hear it at all.
And then Eddie's fingers hit Steve's arm and he can't breathe. Eddie's finger tips walk up his arm, pressing genlty at certain points as they go. Steve's heart flutters when Eddie's fingers press up under his shirt, curl in the material and shove it up as Eddie mumbles,
"Can I just-" between numbers. He smiles when he gets Steve's sleeve up over his shoulder, his fingers poking at Steve's skin as he counts. And it clicks.
He's counting Steve's freckles.
His fingers dancing over his skin as he counts, whispering numbers as he turns on his couch cushion, his knee pressing hard into Steve's thigh. Steve doesn't care. Steve doesn't feel it.
All Steve can feel is Eddie's breath ghosting over his warm skin as he counts. His chilly fingertips, and warm breath, causing goosebumps to spead, making Steve shiver.
He swallows, hard, as Eddie's fingers poke the moles on his neck. Steve smiles when Eddie whispers to himself.
"Lil vampire bite." He says, moving one finger across them genlty. Steve clenches his fists, presses them into his thighs, tries to stay still. To let Eddie stay in this world he's in. Because he's lost right now. Steve knows he is. He's a touchy feely guy, but this, this is different.
He's lost in his counting. Lost in Steve. It's fucking intoxicating. Steve could live in this bubble forever, all of Eddie's attention on him like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
Steve reminds himself to breathe at the wrong moment. Eddie's fingers move over his cheek, he's almost reached thirty, and Steve honestly didn't know he had that many freckles and moles. But he learns new things about himself from Eddie everyday. He sucks in air as Eddie's fingers press into his cheek and Eddie startles.
His hand jerks back, his eyes flutter and then lock onto Steve's. Because he'd been watching Eddie. Watching Eddie look at him. And Eddie swallows hard, his fist clenching in the air before he pulls it to his chest. Holds it there with his other hand, his cheeks now a deep pink, Steve can see it crawling up to his ears.
"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Fuck." He breathes, looks into his lap. And Steve smiles. Can't help it. He reaches out, his fingers curling around Eddie's wrist.
Eddie's eyes snap to him, wide, and nervous, as he watches Steve move his hand back to his face. He presses Eddie's palm to his cheek, nuzzles into the touch.
"You can keep going. You were at... twenty seven, I think." Steve whispers, not wanting to break the quiet bubble they've settled into. Eddie blinks at him. Steve feels his fingers twitch against his face.
"Twenty....seven?" Eddie says it like a question. Unsure. Confused.
"You were counting again." Steve says, leans further into Eddie's hand. He hears Eddie's breath shutter.
"I was touching you." Eddie says, his brows furrowing, like he's still confused.
"I know. I liked it." Steve assures, nodding his head, letting Eddie feel it against his hand.
"Yeah?" He breathes.
"Yeah. Of course." Steve turns a little then, facing him more.
"I like when you count too." Steve admits. Finally. Eddie's nose scrunches, he snorts, and Steve lets him have his hand back. He lets his fall to Steve's shoulder, his fingers almost instantly tangling in the hair at the back of Steve's neck. They find their way there most nights Steve is here, his hand on the back of the couch always finding Steve somehow.
"No you don't. No one does. It annoys people. It's weird." Eddie shakes his head, but he's smiling, and blushing, and Steve wants to kiss his bright red cheeks, wants to feel their warmth against his lips.
"It's addicting." Steve counters. Eddie's eyes widen.
"Is it?" He sounds shocked. Steve nods.
"Yeah. I do it all the time now. Even when you aren't doing it. Or aren't even around. I just... count things. You were right. It's calming." Steve says, his hands finding Eddie's, moving his fingers across Eddie's rings.
"You said it was addicting." Eddie mumbled.
"What?"
"You said it was addicting. The counting." Eddie says, finally looking up from his lap. His eyes soft when they find Steve's.
"Oh. Guess I did yeah. Is that... is that bad?" Steve asks, turning one of Eddie's rings around his finger. Eddie shakes his head, once, the red tint crawling down his neck now. The hand Steve's not fiddling with finds its way to the back of Eddie's neck, he rubs the skin there and blinks a few times before looking into his lap again.
"No. Just... no one's ever called anything about me addicting before. Annoying? Yes. Addicting? Not so much. But you did. And you said it like-" Eddie's teeth dig into his bottom lip.
"Like what?" Steve nudges his knee into Eddie, fighting not to smile.
"Like it was a good thing. I guess?" Eddie shrugs. Steve reaches up then, lets go of Eddie's hand and cups his cheek instead, lifting his head so Eddie can see him.
"It is a good thing. The best thing. I could listen to you count all day." Steve smiles then, mirroring Eddie as he laughs a little.
"Oh yeah? You might regret that. I've actually been trying to hold back on it. I know I do it a lot." Eddie shakes his head, frowns a little. Steve moves, presses closer, shakes his head.
"Don't. Don't hold back. Count whatever you want. Whenever you want." He breathes between them.
"Okay." Eddie says, hesitant, he sounds nervous. Steve pulls back a bit, brows furrowed, and then Eddie darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's cheek.
"One." He says when he's settled back on his cushion. His cheeks even more red than before. Steve snorts, opens his mouth to say something but Eddie moves again. His lips hit next to Steve's eyebrow.
"Two."
He presses his lips close to Steve's ear.
"Three." Steve laughs. Eddie kissed his neck twice.
"Four. Five." He breathes, as Steve catches him, doesn't let him settle back down this time. Keeps him close. One hand on the back of Eddie's neck, one hand trailing his fingertips over Eddie's nose, and his cheeks.
"You've got them too ya know? Not like mine. But ... little ones. All over." Steve breathes, his fingers moving slowly over Eddie face until they linger on his lips. Just for a moment, before he cupped Eddie's cheek.
"You wanna count 'em?" Eddie asks, he sounds breathless, and Steve had barely touched him. They were both on their knees now. Their chests nearly pressed together.
"Maybe later. Got something better in mind right now." Steve breathes, eyes dropping to Eddie's mouth. He watches Eddie gulp and smiles.
"Oh yeah? L-like what?" Eddie stammers. His hands grabbing at Steve's waist to keep himself steady.
"Probably better if I just show you." Steve sighs, presses his forehead to Eddie's.
"Okay. Yeah. I'm- I'm definitely a learn by example kinda guy. So that's- that works for me." Eddie rambles, his mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve moves his nose along Eddie's and nods.
"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. I can do that." Steve agrees, not sure what he's really agreeing too, he just knows he wants to kiss this boy. His friend. Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad. Has for awhile now. He feels Eddie's hands, one of them moving to his shoulder where his sleeve is still pulled up, Eddie's palm is warm on his arm.
Eddie huffs a nervous laugh and that's all it takes.
Steve kisses him. Gently. Eddie's lips fumble against his for a moment. His inexperience making Steve's stomach flutter. His hands grab at Eddie, pull him closer. Eddie whines against his lips and Steve pulls back, doesn't want to overwhelm him too much.
Eddie drops his head to Steve's shoulder with a breathy laugh. Steve pets at his hair, curls his fingers into it like he's wanted to for ages and pulls genlty, so he can look at Eddie's face.
"You okay?" He asks. Eddie nods, smiles.
"Six." He says, his cheeks dimpling. Steve smiles back, shakes his head. Presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose.
"Seven." Eddie says, no hesitation. Steve swears he honest to god giggles, but would never admit it to anyone.
Eddie's eyes tint with a mix of mischief and seriousness that's all his own as his fingers curl around the hem of Steve shirt.
"Okay seriously though take this off, I wasn't done counting." His voice is completely serious. And Steve, feeling brave, decides to match it, and tugs his shirt up over his head, careful not to hit Eddie in the face. Eddie barks a manic sounding laugh as Steve falls back, pulling Eddie down too, so that he's stradling him.
"Go on then. Count away." Steve shoves his hands under his head, smiles up at Eddie as he looks wide eyed down at Steve. He's bright red, but then his eyes focus, and his hands move to gently touch the skin covering Steve's ribs. His finger tips press down, tickling a bit, as he whispers,
"Twenty eight." His eyes jump to Steve's face, he gives him an encouraging nod, and that's all Eddie needs apparently. Because he starts counting in earnest, his hands moving over Steve's freckles quickly. Numbers falling past his lips, his counting calming Steve the way almost nothing else does.
He gets to fifty and stops. Leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder.
"Eight." He whispers, and then keeps going. He kisses and counts his way across Steve's skin until he's laying on top of Steve, his hand in his hair. Pressing gentle kisses into Steve's neck as he smiles into Eddie's shoulder, the little voice in his head counting along, in sync with Eddie in a way he'd never expected to be, feeling content as Eddie's numbers become more garbled. Until they fade completely as Eddie drifts off, his breath heavy on Steve's neck.
Steve smiles, moves them a bit so they're settled on the couch a bit better. Eddie doesn't wake. Steve watches him sleep. Soothes his fingers over the crease in Eddie's eyebrows until it smooths out and he melts further into the couch. He smiles at him, closes his eyes as Eddie's arm squeezes around him, pulling him closer. Steve sighs, sinks deeper into the couch as he feels sleep dragging him under. But not before he mumbles, sleepy and soft,
"One." Making sure he marks this. The first time they fall asleep tangled together, the smile on his lips fading as he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of all the never ending numbers in their future.
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autisticbokutoenthusiast · 2 years ago
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for this autism awareness month i present a compilation of gregory from abbott elementary being an autistic coded king!!!
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blackwithenby · 1 year ago
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thinking about autistic eddie munson who doesn't always pick up on innuendos
he's talking really eagerly about guitar, and steve's watching him with a bit of a smirk. he goes, "oh, you must be pretty good with your fingers, then, huh? maybe you should show me later."
and eddie, blissfully oblivious, just lights up and responds with, "you wanna see my technique? i'm really proud of it, it's taken me years to perfect!"
and steve, horny though he is, just wills his dick to soften because he can't bring himself to pop eddie's bubble and risk losing that bright smile. he just nods and says, "yeah! yeah, i'd love to see."
(of course eddie realizes what he means hours after showing steve said finger technique, and lets out a loud, "ohhhh! he wanted me to finger him!" in the middle of the weekly movie night the party has)
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transmunsons · 1 year ago
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Eddie doing a deal with Steve at that picnic table after school. Eddie’s on his second senior year and pissed off about it. He’s trying to be cordial to Harrington, but he keeps remembering how the basketball team messes with his Hellfire kids.
So he up charges him, gets a little petty revenge; he’s sure Harrington can afford it anyway. The extra money can go toward Eddie’s T payments.
Something rustles in the woods and Harrington freezes, listening. Some kind of wet, furless animal jumps out of the trees in a blur.
Before Eddie can react, Harrington grabs his hand and pulls him up, heading to the closest sanctuary, the high school. Eddie’s freaking out. They run into the building, and Harrington pulls them into the janitors closet. He lunges to the back, reaching for a mop, but Eddie hears a wet skittering in the hallway and slams the door shut. Harrington whips around at the noise and the sudden darkness. Eddie holds his breath until the creature passes.
“What the fuck is out there?” He hisses at Harrington. The closet is cramped and the floor is littered with cleaning supplies. They're right up on top of one another in the small space. “This is crazy, this is so fucking crazy—”
“Calm down!” Harrington hisses back, closer than he expects, breath brushing against Eddie's cheek.
“Calm? Why are you calm, what's wrong with you?” Eddie's heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He can't breathe. “We just almost got attacked by some fuckin' thing!” He flutters his hands to emphasize 'thing' though Steve probably can't see it in the dark. He smacks a shelf.
“I've seen something like it before, it's some kind of demogorgon.” Harrington says. Eddie splutters. The king of Hawkins High just made a DnD reference.
“How do you—that is not a demogorgon, Harrington! Demogorgons don't exist and even if they did, they don't look like that!”
“Hey, you asked and I answered. And my name is Steve.” He reaches around Eddie and tries the door handle. He's practically hugging him.
Steve swears and flicks on the light switch, illuminating the closet. “It's stuck.”
Eddie can see Steve's face properly now in all its glory. The overhead bulb gleams off Steve's stupidly long eyelashes. He almost wants to turn the light back off. His breathing is still restricted.
“Guess we're trapped in here until somebody comes by.” Steve says.
Eddie balks at the thought of being stuck with Steve in close quarters for so long. “No we're not, just gimme a second.”
Eddie shoves a hand up under his Dio shirt so he can pull his bindings a little away from his chest.
“What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed. His eyes are wide.
“Don't get excited,” Eddie winks because apparently he has a death wish, “just need to breathe. Get me a flathead screwdriver. The door opens inward.”
Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Right, the hinges!” He turns around to rustle through the shelves, which Eddie, uh, doesn’t mind. Goddamn.
He faces Eddie again with a flathead in his hands and a triumphant look. Eddie grabs it with a ‘thanks’ and goes to work prying pins out of the hinges. He can feel Steve watching him. Eddie gets the door loose and shoves it open, catching it so it doesn’t make noise.
Steve stalks past him wielding a mop like a weapon.
“Where are you going?” Eddie stage whispers.
Steve looks over his shoulder at Eddie, hair artfully falling out of place. “I’ve gotta find that thing, I’m not gonna let it roam the school.”
Eddie looks at Steve, looks back at the exit, looks down at the tile floor.
“Shit.”
He follows.
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hotluncheddie · 9 months ago
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Hug.
wc: 3.4k | rated: T | cw: meltdown, burnout | tags: autistic eddie munson, hurt/comfort, pre relationship, pining, hugging | ao3
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Eddie Munson has a secret. 
He doesn’t know how to hug. 
Sure, he knows how in theory, and he has been hugged before, with mixed reactions. But it’s been a while. Been a long while actually. So long that embarrassingly, part of him, dreads the day he gets the urge to hug someone. Because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do it right. 
With Wayne they’re in a routine of shoulder pats or a side on squeeze. If Eddie’s having a really bad time he can curl near him on the ratty sofa and likes to rest his forehead on his uncles shoulder, Wayne’s work worn hands coming up to ruffle his hair, let him be for a while. 
But they don’t really hug. Not for real. Not really. 
And Eddie doesn’t mind, is the thing. He doesn’t need that from his uncle. 
With the hellfire boys it’s always been nudges and poking and a friendly kind of wrestled, headlock, type thing. That’s the line, that’s the boundary. And Eddie’s okay with that too, they’re friends, they’re guys, they’re good people but Eddie just doesn’t think he can show that part of himself to them. The part that doesn’t know, the part that sort of wants more but is too afraid to ask. 
Sometimes the thought or actuality of someone touching him makes him kind of queasy. Makes him twist his rings and pull his hair. He doesn’t want it. Not always.
He knows his Nana used to hug him, before she passed away, and his Mom probably did too, he just can’t really remember. But that was normal, that’s what Moms and Nana’s do. But he doesn’t get that now. That type of hugging. 
Then Eddie meets Steve, meets Steve in the upside down. A different Steve than he’d known of in school. A slightly different Steve again once they’re all out, all healed and patched and the horrors hidden away. 
He meets that Steve. And Eddie, Eddie thinks he wants to hug him. 
He knows he’s being a little weird about it. Fluttering in and out of Steve’s space, never quite letting himself touch, never more than a brush of fingers or a nudge of his hip. Never staying still enough to let Steve make a move on what he wants. 
But then the choice is sort of made for the both of them. Pushed together by fate, maybe, if you believe in that. 
All Eddie believes in, all Eddie knows, is that Steve’s house is so fucking loud. 
‘The walls Stevie they’re so, so white. And your fridge! It’s just, loud and and weird.’ Eddie had said, already frustrated when Steve came to pick him up, even more so once they arrived. 
And once he was inside, it was like everything doubled, tripled. Steve’s house was unbearable tonight. 
But Steve had just laughed and Eddie knew he would, knew from the way he’d said it, all loud and over the top - added inflections, a good DM. But, the thing is, he mentioned it because he meant it, for real. It’s too fucking loud, thrumming under his skin. 
Eddie’s curled up on the couch, everyone else over now too for a movie night. They’re usually enjoyable, seeing the kids, Robin, Nancy. It’s nice. 
But tonight, tonight it’s turned up loud and people are talking and it’s not a scary film but it kind of is. 
He’s biting the skin of his cuticles just to feel something other than itchy and floaty and dizzy with discomfort. His heart is beating too fast and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. overlapping with the films crashing and static and the rustling of snacks and the cars outside. 
His skin feels sweaty against his clothes, sticking to the sofa and ripping him apart. 
It’s loud and Eddie is scared. 
He mutters ‘bathroom’ and thinks Steve next to him probably heard, even with his head resting on Robins shoulder. Doesn’t stop to find out. Doesn’t really care. Just needs to get out. 
He walks quickly to the stairs and tries not to sprint up them, but takes them two at a time, breathing heavily though his nose. 
Eddie closes the door to Steve’s upstairs bathroom, tears prickling his eyes as he steps from one foot to the other, rocking. His hand migrate to his hair, gripping and pulling harshly. tug stop, pain ebb. 
But the noise still travels, it’s better than in would’ve been in the downstairs bathroom but Eddie shoves the heels of his palms against his ears. He’s panting now, vision blurring. Shoulders and neck tense. 
He pushes against his ears harder, wants nothing, wants quiet. Wants it to bite. 
Thing is, he used to love noise. Would seek it out, find it wherever he could. He’d push practice to run late and he’d hang out at the hideout after their set, just to feel that press of voices all around him. The hum of the amps alone used to fill him up something magic, set his bones alight. 
As a kid he used to crinkle paper by his ears, just to hear it crackle and rustle, like white noise static in his brain and skin. Used to beg Wayne to take him to the junkyard every weekend just so he could bang on the big old rusty metal with a stick. Hear the hum crash, bellow and die out. The different tones, the different dents and scrapes changing the sound. He used to spend hours scrabbling around, trying everything he could to make enough sound, make enough noise, to feel that feeling of everything being full and alive and awake and amazing. 
Now though, after. After those bats screams burrowed into him and made noice synonymous with fear and pain and blood red darkness. Now he’s scared of the stray cats that meow in the night, grates his teeth if someone drags him to the diner, the buzz of the fluorescents and scraping of plates making him want to scream. 
Noise used to be his safe space, now he can’t even be in a room full of his friends. Can't tonight, not like this. And see, he’s always been weird but now even that’s changed.
He doesn’t even recognise himself anymore. 
It’s that thought, that fear, that has Eddie dropping to a crouch, knees under his chin. He leans against the bathtub and tries to steady his breathing. But the tears are slipping out and he feel his lungs contract, he can’t breath, he can’t. 
He pushes his hand harder into his ears, the blood rushing. Rocks so his back hits the tub, thud, thud thud. Remembers how horrible those weeks in hospital were, the bed sheets and the beeping and the smell. It would’ve been horrid anyway but after those days full of fear, that adrenaline he’d gone through but not processed. It was unbearable. 
And he’s still not back, not recovered. He’s so tired. Everything’s so tiring. He can only manage to leave the trailer maybe once a week, when he’s dragged out, taken to something by Steve or Wayne or Dustin. (They try for more but Eddie thinks that might actually make him loose it.) He goes out and tries to act normal, tries to keep the people around him from leaving. Goes out but it all feels different. 
He misses the weight and smell of his leather jacket, his jeans from before and wallet chain he used to fiddle with. Misses who he was when he had those things, who he thought he could be.  
Otherwise he’s in his room, trying to feel better. Sleeping a lot, listening to the same album over and over, eating the same thing just because anything else would be too much. Press too hard on his rips. Be an extra boulder stacked onto his already cracking shoulders. 
Eddie doesn’t hear the door open and close quietly, doesn’t hear Steve’s socks pad over the bathroom rug. 
But he feels his body heat and smells his cologne. Eddie still gasping for breath, too afraid to open his eyes or move his hands from his ears. But he feels body heat, Steve’s here. Eddie feels him. 
His still ragged breaths stutter for a moment when he feels Steves large, warm palm settle between his shoulder blades. He flinches at the contact but Steve doesn’t move, just stays there, touching lightly, in that one place, grounding. Bringing Eddie back to his body slowly. His lungs filling up with a little more air each time he breaths. 
He swallows thickly, coming back to himself slightly, but still scared to open his eyes, deeper breaths bracketed by sobs and hiccups. He hates when people see him cry. 
Eventually he moves his hands so they’re just cupped over his ears, instead of pushed tightly against. He can just make out the soft rumbling of Steve’s voice, too quiet to be heard before but Eddie can understand him now. 
‘That’s it, deep breaths. just like me, okay?’ Steve takes a deep breath. ‘That’s it Ed’s, in for two, out for two.’ He breaths out through his mouth, hand rubbing soothing circles over Eddie’s shoulders. 
Eddie follows, breathing deeper, filling his body with oxygen again. Breathing along with Steve. 
Eventually Eddie moves his hands, sniffing again and scrubbing his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He crosses his arms on his knees and buries his head there. 
He takes another deep breath, finally finding the courage to open his eyes and peek over at Steve. 
He’s backlit by the moonlight shining through the frosted window, the only other light in the room is the orange strip across the bottom of the closed bathroom door. 
Eddie can still hear everyone downstairs, the rumble of the tv, but it doesn’t feel so bad now, doesn’t make his skin crawl so much. He’s not ready to got back out there though. Not yet. 
‘Hi.’ Steve says, smiling at Eddie like it’s another normal day and not one where he just helped Eddie though a full on meltdown in his parents bathroom. 
Eddie snorts. God. He’s so embarrassed.
Swallowing Eddie has to force the words out of his chest, would like to not say anything but Steve is here and Steve is smiling at him and the least Eddie can do is speak a little, as uncomfortable as it is. 
‘Sorry.’ He lands on, voice rough and quiet. 
‘No, none of that Ed’s yeah? Remember, party rules?’ And Steve speaks just as quietly as Eddie did, like he knows, knows how fragile Eddie is right now. Eddie grunts, tears bubbling a slipping out again. 
Party rules are that Steve won’t ask twice if someone needs to come over or call, any time of night. If you need a ride to a members house or just to fall asleep with him on the line, he’s there. Eddie can’t count the number of times he’s seen Steve drop Lucas at Max's trailer late at night, Steve watching until he gets inside. If it isn’t too late he’s started coming to check on Eddie too. Sometimes Eddie’s able to see him, engage with him. Sometimes it’s too much, being a person, even in front of Steve. He leaves Wayne to tell him eddies fine, or as fine as Eddie can be, at the moment. 
‘What can I do?’ Steve asks, bringing Eddie back to the present, to Steve’s bathroom floor. 
Eddie screws his eyes up. He, ugh. ‘I don’t know how to, do, what I want.’ Eddie says, nonessential. But he just. He wants. Wants to feel Steve, imagines that warmth, and grounding, wants more. Too much. 
Steve’s eyebrows furrow slightly, but his face still seems kind, like always. Steve’s always kind. ‘What do you want?’ He asks. 
Eddie looks at the floor, there’s a loose thread on the edge of the rug, he stares at it. ‘A hug.’ He mumbles, cheeks flaming. 
‘Oh.’ Steve breaths. And then, like it’s simple, like it’s nothing. ‘Okay.’ he says and Eddie glances at him. 
Steve shifts so his back is flat against the tub, legs out in front of him and arms open. Waiting. 
‘Take your time, any way you want it.’ Steve says. 
Eddie wipes his face again, shifts onto his knees without really thinking, drawn towards Steve like always. But he falters, hands raised but fingers clenching and unfurling. He twitches his head to the left and few times, almost uncontrollably, he does it again. ‘I, ah, um.’ He doesn’t. He doesn’t know how. 
Because this is different still, from Wayne, from his Nana, from friends. This is Steve. 
But Steve just sits, waiting, looking at Eddie. ‘Take your time. Any way you want Ed’s.’ Steve says again softly, imploring. 
Eddie blinks hard and couple times, tugs at his hair again, focus, focus. He shuffles forward and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck a little awkwardly. His back bending to lean far enough, not sure how hard to squeeze, afraid to be too close, touch too much. 
Eddie’s breathing picks up again, he doesn’t, cant, doesn’t know how. He pulls away, scrubbing at his face again. 
‘Can I?’ Steve starts, moving toward Eddie but stops, waiting for a reply. Eddie nods mutely, cheeks flaming. 
Steve moves closer, Eddie knees up against his thigh. He pulls on Eddies leg, getting him to move it over top of Steve’s. Until he’s essentially sitting in his lap. Eddies eyes are wide, Steve is so close, so warm. 
He keeps going, slowly, bringing Eddie’s chest to his slowly, wrapping Eddie’s arms around his torso and then wrapping his own around Eddie. One big warm palm leading Eddie’s head into the crook of Steve’s neck, where it’s dark, smells strongly of citrus and musk. 
Eddie’s tense, muscles locked tight, but then Steve shifts one more time, getting comfortable and squeezes Eddie once. The pressure, it unlocks something inside him. Steve breaths out, like he’s relaxing too, like this is nice for Steve too. 
‘S’okay Eddie, relax for me.’ Steve prompts quietly, arms squeezing again. Everything soft and quiet and warm. 
Eddie tips over the edge. 
He empties his lungs, slow and stuttering, in and out. Relaxes. Slumping down onto Steve and lets go. ‘Oh.’ It feels so good to be held, to be wrapped up like this. Steve’s arms hold firm around him, pulling them impossibly closer. 
Eddie whimpers, let’s go fully, drifts. 
He thinks he might honestly fall asleep, so exhausted from his meltdown, the emotion and sensory, twist and release. 
He comes too with Steve stroking a hand over his hair and down his back, repeating the long slow motion over and over, like Eddie is some overgrown cat. 
He breaths deep one last time, steals himself for the cold of letting go. Sits back on his heels, extracting himself from Steve’s neck and unfurling his grip of Steve’s waist. 
But Steve stops him getting too far. One hand on the back in eddies neck, one at his hip. It’s almost too much, makes Eddie think about more than friends, about skin on skin. About being held like this, only different. 
‘Sorry, um, thanks.’ He says, afraid to look Steve in the eye, staring at the collar of his polo instead, reaching up to fiddle with one of the little shiny buttons. 
Steve just squeezes Eddie’s neck, letting go to move around slightly now that Eddie’s whole weight isn’t on him anymore. ‘For someone who says they don’t know how to hug, that was pretty nice.’ Steve says once he’s settled, hands back on Eddie hips. 
That makes Eddie glance up, flick his eyes to Steve’s and back down. Just enough time to take in his soft smile and kind gaze, down tuned and sleepy. He looks relaxed, happy. 
Eddie’s heart clenches. But he just huffs, ‘yeah, sure.’ Only he can’t help smiling a little, half believing. Half believing the ridiculousness, That Steve would enjoy this too. 
But Steve reaches up and tucks some hair behind Eddie’s ear, so soft and caring. ‘Hey, I mean it. And if you ever want, ever need this again. I’m here.’ He says, voice still a whisper. 
Eddie feels tears prickle again, how could, how is Steve even real? ‘Careful Stevie.’ He jokes. ‘Say any more and you’ll never get rid of me.’ Eddie doesn’t to want to go, Eddie wants to stay right here forever. But he knows he can’t. Can’t do that. 
‘I mean it Ed’s, any time you want. How-however you want.’ And Steve looks up at him, cheeks pink in the moonlight and eyes wide. Like he’s said too much, like he’s scared too. 
Eddie wants to kiss him. 
Wants to bury his head back in Steve’s neck and never come out. Wants to slip his tongue past the seam of Steve’s lips and grind his hips down just to see what noises he’ll get. Wants to hear him and touch him and taste him all over. Wants to curl up in bed next to him and bring him over to have dinner with Wayne. Wants to share his food and listen to his heartbeat and let Steve in. Let him see more. More of Eddie. 
But not now. Not when there’s salt tracks in his face and phlegm in his throat. When he needs a glass of water and a, like, nine hour nap. ‘Kay.’ He settles on, voice wet but happy, he’s so happy, to have Steve now, even if it’s hard and he’s so tired and so scared. He has Steve. He has Wayne and his friends and he has Steve. ‘Thank you.’ Eddie whispers, feeling held by the dark bathroom. Space and time on pause. He feels brave, feels exposed and covered head to toe in all his past and all his present. Feels here, feels now. 
Eddie leans forward and places the softest of kisses on Steve’s cheek. The first he’s ever given, and how nice, that it’s Steve. How nice, to feel his warmth and hear his little intake of breath. 
Eddie blushes, scrubs at his cheeks again. Slipping off of Steve’s thighs to sit back next to him, shoulder to shoulder, on the little bathroom rug. 
‘Do you want to go back down? Or um, I can take you home?’ Steve asks, sounds unsure but his voice is soft, steady. Eddie bites his thumb, rubs his knuckles against his teeth. 
He doesn’t know what he wants. Wishes they could stay here forever. But there’s a room full of people and this is Steve’s house, he can’t just leave them, can’t just stay here, with Eddie, in his parents bathroom. 
‘I’ll uhm, I’ll just wait here a little longer, until the movie finishes. You go down, be a good host.’ And Eddie smiles, but he doesn’t feel it in his eyes, can’t face the light and noise again just yet, the questions or glances that might come his way. 
‘I’ll go check on them then, take some back and then you can go last. Or, or stay, if you, if you want.’ 
Eddie’s heart clenches again. He wants to, to stay. But he also wants his bed, familiar and inviting. Wants to smell Wayne in the air and have his tape on to fall asleep. Wants normal, after tonight. Needs it. 
But one day. When he feels better. When that spark he had sometimes comes back, the one that believed he could be a rockstar or a writer. That would dream up campaigns and have the energy to write them down. When that part of him comes back, when he’s not so tired. Then he’ll go to Steve, offer himself up, ask for more, ask to stay. 
But tonight he’s too close to breaking, too flayed open and rubbed pink. ‘A lift home later would be nice, just us?’ He asks, it’s so much, fills him up. It’s everything he wants, in this moment. 
Steve nods, bumping their knees together. 
He’s so good, Eddie marvels, for the hundredth time. 
‘Course. I’ll bring you some water.’ And Steve shifts to stand, using Eddie to help him up. It’s so nice, to be this close, a barrier broken, new rules to be made. 
‘You can wait in my room, if you want? It might be more comfortable.’ Steve says, hand on the doorknob. Eddie just nods, blushes, not even sure why. But Steve smiles, pretty and boyish and small.  
He slips out and turns off the light on the landing, the whole floor bathed in darkness. Eddie didn’t even ask, he didn’t even have to. He feels tears well again, laughing a little at it all. At the Steve of it all. 
He stays curled up on the bathroom rug a little longer, in the new quiet memory of Steve and warmth and darkness. Until he’s ready. Knows Steve will be waiting. 
.𖥔˚
Tag List (open) : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots
also.. @spectrum-spectre @babydollbaron @flowercrowngods just bc :)
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symbiotic-slime · 7 months ago
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eddie freaking out over his neighbour’s music will always be peak overstimulation rep to me
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like this is literally how it feels
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karmathehalflander · 2 months ago
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Why both Eddie and Venom are autistic and how the movies are actually a metaphor for neurodivergence
Includes some of my personal headcanons and concepts that I’ve been thinking about and need to share.
BE WARNED!!! This post is a bit long (and also a cringy, rambling, nonsensical mess) full thing under cut.
Some quick notes before we begin: when I have one of their names at the beginning of a section it means anything in that section only applies to one of them. (Idk, I couldn’t figure out how to organize this, you’ll see what I mean)
I don’t know much comic lore, all of this is based off of the movies. Though the movies are a different universe so I don’t think it will matter too much.
Also I use He/They/It pronouns for Venom.
In the end, Im just one guy with a hyper fixation please take everything I say with a grain of salt and feel free to add on or correct me about stuff. Especially if I say anything stereotypical or offensive about nurodivergance/autism a lot of this is based on some personal experience and I absolutely make mistakes and generalizations.
Alright enough of my yapping let’s get to it.
Overall big picture stuff
Applies to Both of them
the whole concept of them being “losers” together is kind of autistic coded. Autistic people are often viewed as incompetent or childish or useless. And I like to think they are connecting over that shared experience.
Noise sensitivity!!! Both of them have noise sensitivity! I probably don’t need to elaborate that much but that one scene in their apartment was some of the best overstimulation representation I’ve ever seen overstimulation guitar scene
Venom
Venom comes across as unfeeling because they don’t emote in a “normal” way.
They’re very blunt and literal.
Venom sometimes has a slightly higher-pitched voice when excited or angry. Which I’m going to attribute to him masking. He wants to appear tougher and scarier. This is important to its species and Venom, who is already perceived as weak by their peers, intentionally deepens his voice a bit to blend in. (This is definitely a headcanon but I love this concept so I don’t care that the real reason is that the voice modifier they use does silly things)
This is also why I think it’s so concerned about Eddie and him “looking bad” Looking weak was dangerous and they trained themself to hide “weakness”
It’s always “How does Venom affect people” and never “What does Venom need and how do other people��s actions affect them”
Venom prefers to express its thoughts and feelings through mental connection with its host and then have that person relay the information to whomever they are “speaking” to. Nonverbal communication!
Venom not understanding humans (social interaction, conventions, etc.) is kind of autistic coded.
Eddie
Edie kind of disregards a lot of social conventions. Still hangs out with his ex-fiancé AND her boyfriend. He also doesn’t seem to mind talking to Venom out loud.
Eddies is just kind of anxious in general.
Eddie struggles to find full time employment.
On that vein, he also struggles to maintain relationships.
Eddie's sense of justice. Eddie has a strong sense of justice and morals that often don’t align with generally accepted values and he follows this view of justice and morality to an absurd degree and it often gets him in trouble. Aka, the entire plot of the first movie is because Eddie has autism.
He wears the same clothes all the time.
Specific moments that I think about
Venom
Venom chewing on the tire swing (they both have oral stims btw)
Sand between his toes. Idk I just thought it was cute and chose to believe they like the sensation.
Say it with me. Tater tots are a safe food!!!
Venom rocks back and forth a lot.
This is a stretch but when Venom is like “look at all these weirdos, my kind of people” it’s a metaphor for him being queer but I’d argue it also kind of fits with neurodivergence. Neurodivergent people often connect with “weirdos” (other neurodivergent people)
Likes organization “Pile of bodies, pile of heads”
Eddie
I’ve been told Eddie chews on his necklace at the beginning of the movie but I can’t find the clip and can’t do a rewatch right now so take that with a grain of salt… (I chose to believe this happened though. Also his bracelets are stim heaven)
When he says “Oh, I have a parasite” to Mrs. Chen he had no clue what to say here. He just said the first thing that came to mind and panicked instead of explaining.
Also the way he says things funny. Ex: “✨It’s a treeeee✨” supa, supa, fhasstt” “Heee…. has. one. up. hi’s. Ass toooooo” “ET. Phone home. Aliens? 😃” I chose to believe they are vocal stims (I also attempted to find a compilation but I couldn’t find any. Maybe I’ll make one sometime)
Eddie also makes sound effects a lot.
Eddie writes notes on pen and paper instead of digitally.
He apologizes an excessive amount. Like he says “I’m sorry” to people actively trying to kill him. Which is so real.
“I just bit that guys head off” “I, uhhh, yea I’ve been there it’s not fun” 😕
Eddie also rocks back and forth. Which can be seen in this scene
Quick segment into why I think Venom was rejected by other Klyntar (it’s because he has autism)
Venom doesn’t adapt as quickly or as efficiently as other Klyntar. It doesn’t handle change well.
All of the normal Klyntar weaknesses are turned up to 1000 with them. Instead of just certain frequencies, the range that hurts him is larger and is also affected by loud noises. As shown by: “Venom” car alarm scene
instead of just fire, heat also bothers it. Also doesn’t adapt to light well. (Just a headcanon)
Can’t create weapons out of their body like other Klyntar. struggles with “simple” skills.
Much more emotional than other Klyntar and develop attachments (also purely a headcanon)
Just overall didn’t fit well into their society.
Just headcanons
Venom and Eddie are so compatible because their brains work the same way.
“I wish I could just mentally project my thoughts and feelings directly into your brain. Oh wait, we can do that!”
Venom also has temperature sensitivities. He gets hot.
Venom likes to stim to low key music, mainly jazz and lo-fi. Does the one song on repeat for three hours to wring all the happy chemicals out of it like a dish rag thing.
Venom also absolutely loves cheesy pop music (unrelated to anything here but I’m right and I needed to include it)
Venom functions as a weighted blanket for Eddie when he’s anxious. Maybe even hides under his shirt and stuff and becomes an extra weight.
Eddie stims with his jewelry.
Venom likes to sit in the freezer. Sometimes they visit Mrs. Chen's walk in just to chill (lol)
Purely my opinion but I think Venom also has some light sensitivity for a bit because it’s not used to being in such a bright environment. He gets used to it eventually but every once in awhile he finds the city lights overstimulating.
They are both very tactile. Touching things. Love a good texture.
Venom is super particular about food for someone who eats out the garbage but certain textures and flavors drive them crazy.
Venom hates vegetables. (Except for celery because it likes the crunchy and stringyness of it)
How all of this makes for a great metaphor!
Feeling like an alien in the world is probably the most relatable thing for a lot of nurodivergent people. Like there’s a manual for being human you don’t have. And just the concept of a literal alien showing up and struggling to navigate in a world not made for it is so relatable!
The way they both immediately connect to each other because they have the same weird brain stuff and weren’t accepted by their respective societies is so adorable and wholesome.
“We’re not so different, you and I” This line lives rent-free in my mind at all times. It’s my favorite quote. I think it perfectly encapsulates their relationship and why it’s special. They have autism and are bonding because the other is the first person who truly understands them! (Cries, screams, throws up)
In conclusion
They are in love and have autism. And they cling to each other because they are the first people to truly understand each other. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
Also I listened to UFO by Smith and Thell on loop while writing this. It’s very autistic symbrock coded so give it a listen if you’re a fan of inde-pop.
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stevesbipanic · 2 years ago
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Eddie sometimes went quiet.
Wayne noticed it after Eddie moved in. He didn't do it as much when he was little and Mary would bring him round, but here he was at ten years old completely silent. When Eddie was little Wayne assumed the boy was just shy, but now that he lived with Eddie he knew that sometimes a whole week would pass with not a peep from the young boy. M
The doctor said it might be a trauma response, might just be something he would do from time to time, either way, Eddie Munson, one of the loudest and dramatic kids Wayne had ever met would still be him, just nonverbal. They worked with a notebook but sometimes Eddie would get frustrated he wasn't being answered fast enough and they were running out of paper.
It was Wayne's buddy from work that presented a solution. "Have you tried sign language? My son was born deaf and Susan and I went to night classes so we could talk to the kid." So that's exactly what Wayne did, he moved his shifts to the day and spent his nights at the school learning to talk to his boy. On his days off he'd show Eddie what he'd learnt and slowly they were able to bridge the gap that the silence presented.
The silent days didn't stop as he grew older, his teachers didn't really understand and sometimes he'd end up in detention with a note saying he was being disrespectful. His friends understood though and enthusiastically asked Eddie to teach them sign language, they'd use it even when Eddie was happily chatting with them, they liked that they shared a 'secret' language from the bullies.
He hadn't had any silent days since Vecna, which Eddie thought was a miracle in itself given the circumstances. However, he woke up a couple months after spring break knowing what kind of day it was going to be. He felt frustrated with himself, he was supposed to be hanging out with Steve and Robin today and was worried with how they'd take it, especially Steve. They'd been dancing around each other's feelings lately and he didn't want to ruin everything before it even started. Resigned he grabbed a notebook and pen and headed to Family Video.
He'd spent ten minutes psyching himself up in the parking lot before heading inside, note written and ready explaining that no it wasn't anything Upside Down related, he just wouldn't be speaking today. The door's bell rings in his ear as he stops suddenly staring at the scene before him. Steve and Robin were, quite rapidly, signing at each other. Steve turns at the bell, smiling at Eddie.
"Eddie!"
Still in a bit of shock, Eddie signs on instinct, "You know sign?"
Steve has the same look of shock now, before his face breaks into an even bigger smile and signs back, "You know sign! You know sign, how, why?"
His hands are faster than his brain as he explains how he goes quiet sometimes, and Wayne and night classes and Hellfire before asking Steve how he and Robin know sign.
Steve looks bashful as he signs back, "Um, after Starcourt my hearing started to go, so Robin, ever the linguist, insisted we learn, which was actually very smart of her. I can still kinda hear but I get by mainly on lip reading."
Things started to make sense now to Eddie, how sometimes Steve seemed to just nod and smile at whatever the kids were saying, or would need things repeated to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me about going nonverbal? Robbie has days like that too."
"Didn't want you to think I was weird."
"I like that you're weird, I like you, Eds."
Eddie blushes at what he interprets is his sign name from Steve, the letter E and the sign for love combined.
"I like you too, Stevie." Eddie signs, the letter S mixed with the sign for heart.
Eddie may still have his silent days, but now he shares them with Steve, and they can sign the things he's not allowed to say out loud, making sure they both know they're loved.
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jasontoddsmommyissues · 11 months ago
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Eddie Munson as Text Posts 36/?
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 years ago
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Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
He's not.
They're just... he happened to notice them, once, when Eddie was listening to Dustin talk through how he might want to make his first DM campaign play out.
Steve wasn't even really paying attention at first, just reading some comic he'd found lying in Eddie's room. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen it. Movement.
Eddie and Dustin were sitting at the small kitchen table, Dustin talking about puzzles and traps and monsters and Eddie was smiling, nodding encouragingly, looking more and more exicted. But it wasn't the movement of his head that drew Steve's attention.
It was his hands.
They were resting on the sides of his legs, tapping.
Steve could only see one hand really, but he could see Eddie's other arm jumping the same way, his hands moving faster and faster the more excited he got, until they were just hovering near his legs, flapping in the air beside him as he smiled widely at Dustin. He suggested a few things, to Dustin, Steve's pretty sure that's what he was saying anyway, his ears weren't great anymore if he wasn't focused, and right now, all of his focus was on Eddie's hands.
Dustin slapped his hand on the table, pointed at Eddie and then started scribbling as Eddie laughed, Steve always managed to hear Eddie's laugh, his hands flapping harder, slapping at his thighs.
Steve vaguely hears his name, cocks his head to the side, but doesn't respond, his eyes still locked on Eddie's flapping hands, and then they stop moving. Both of them freezing, the one Steve can see clamps down on Eddie's thigh, fingers pressing into his jeans.
Steve blinks. Tears his eyes away. Looks at Eddie.
He's staring at Steve, his cheeks tinted pink. Steve swallows, gives him a little smile before Dustin has his attention, chatting at him about what he and Eddie had just come up with.
Steve hears about half of it. Nodding when he thinks he should, trying his best to sound interested. It's enough for Dustin. The barely there commitment. And usually Steve is better at engaging with him, even though he has no clue what he's talking about.
But he's distracted. His eyes keep wandering to Eddie's hands. But they don't move again the whole time he's there, Eddie's knuckles turn white as Steve's eyes linger on his hand. His fingers still pressing into his thigh, they drum a quick beat here and there, but his hands don't move.
Steve sighs, drags his eyes away, and tries to keep them off Eddie. Somehow feeling like Eddie is embarrassed, or upset, that Steve had seen... whatever it was he'd seen.
~°~
It keeps happening.
Eddie's flapping hands.
Steve's eyes on them.
But he's careful now. He doesn't stare. Just steals glances when the movements draw his eye. And Eddie always has his hands under tables, or tucked close to his sides, when it happens. Like he's trying to hide it.
Steve doesn't understand why. He likes it. Every time he sees Eddie's hands moving excitedly it makes his chest flutter. Like he's so happy that Eddie's happy it just fills him with warmth.
But it happens other times too.
Not only when he's happy.
It happens when he's nervous.
Happens when he's scared.
The movements are more erratic when he's nervous or scared. His hands flap, shake, clench, and unclench at his sides.
Every time, Steve wants to reach out and touch. To take his hands, hold them in his and tell him he's okay. That whatever it is. Steve will help.
But he hides it. Behind distracting smiles, and under tables, and behind his back, sometimes. But Steve sees him, watches him, and he wants.
Wants to ask. Wants to touch. Wants to be touched.
Wants to feel Eddie's shaking, flapping, hands against him. Wants to be the reason they flap happily at his sides sometimes. Wants to feel them flap happily against his sides. Wonders if Eddie would do that against his back if he kissed him.
Or if he'd do it lying underneath Steve, clutching at his shirt before his hands just taptaptaptapped against his back as Steve pressed him into his matress.
Or maybe he'd hold Eddie's hands, up above his head. Feel his fingers tapping against his hands as Steve kissed him, nice and slow. Eddie would just tap faster, if he was happy, if he wanted that, with Steve.
Steve sighed, deeply, and glanced at Eddie's hands, his left one resting in his lap, thumb twisting at his ring. His right one, hanging down by his leg, shaking happily as he listened to Will and Dustin make plans for their new campaign, and wished he could reach out and touch him. Even just settle his hand against Eddie's, just to feel the joy shake out of his body.
~°~
The first time Steve reaches out and takes Eddie's shaking hand, is at the summer carnival.
It's hot. And crowded. And loud. And they're waiting in line for some ride the kids want to drag them on. People laughing and screaming and crowding around, jostling them and bumping their shoulders.
And Eddie had gone quiet about five minutes ago. Steve keeps glancing down, watching his hands. It takes three more minutes. But they start to shake, flapping at his sides before he grabs at his jeans, wipes his palms, lets them shake again.
Steve leans forward, tells Dustin they'll be over by the benches, and he grabs Eddie's hand, gently slides his hand into Eddie's. Eddie looks at him, blinking rapidly.
"You wanna come with me? Get outta here?" Steve asks, jerks his head to the side. Eddie nods immediately, his fingers clamping down on Steve's hand, hard. But Steve doesn't care, because Eddie's hand shakes, just once or twice, and then it stops. And his hand is warm, and strong, inside Steve's as he leads them to the benches and sits Eddie down.
He gives him a drink of his lemon shake up, snorts when Eddie makes a face at the sour taste, and then sits next to him.
Eddie takes a few deep breaths, his eyes closed. He takes his hand out of Steve's, leaving him aching for his touch. Steve just lets him go, rests his hand in his lap instead.
"Thanks." Eddie sighs, after a long moment, his eyes finally opening, they don't land on Steve. Stay locked on his lap.
"Anytime." He says, and he means it. Deep in his chest he means it, he'd do anything for Eddie. Always. Eddie smiles, finally looking at him.
"Can't believe you tried to kill me with that though." Eddie huffs, kicks Steve's shoe with his own and nods at the cup sitting between them.
Steve laughs, watches Eddie smile, his fingers twitching in his lap, his wrist twitches once, Steve's pretty sure it counts.
~°~
The second time he touches Eddie's hands, Eddie's just made them grilled cheese, his signature dish. And he's stitting in front of Steve, his chin resting in one hand, his other hand hidden under the table. He's watching as Steve chews his first bite.
"Weeeell?" He asks, impatient, as always. Steve makes a show of chewing slower, his eyes lifting to the ceiling as he hums, thinking. Eddie kicks at his shin under the table, his socked foot not hurting at all. Steve snorts, kicks back, and says,
"It's good. Really good. Best grilled cheese I ever had." He's serious, knows he sounds like he's teasing.
"Yeah? You like it? I didn't burn it? I mean I know you said you like them crispy but I thought maybe I got it too dark. Might have burnt it." Eddie rambles, and Steve just smiles, shakes his head.
"It's perfect, actually. You're a grilled cheese wizard. Or a... grilled cheese... bard. No I don't think that's a thing. Wizard applies more here, pretty sure." Steve says, waving off his own words like they're nonsense, looking toward the ceiling again to avoid Eddie's, no doubt, exasperated look.
But that's when he sees it.
His eyes are on their way to the ceiling when he sees Eddie's hand, flapping next to his thigh. Steve looks back to him, sees him beaming, and can't help himself when he reaches out and grabs Eddie's shaking hand.
But it's a mistake. He didn't know it would be. Didn't think. Had forgotten about that first day when Eddie had caught him staring and froze.
The smile drops off Eddie's face and he tugs his hand quickly away from Steve, hiding it in his lap, scooting back in his chair, away from Steve, his eyes on the table.
"Sorry. I can't- sorry." He stammers, shaking his head, his cheeks are red, his eyes darting around the table top as he curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach protectively.
"What are you sorry for? You don't have to be sorry." Steve says, his voice soft, just a breath between them really. Eddie frowns, shakes his head again.
"No. It's annoying. I know it is. It just happens. I can't help it." Eddie's voice is firm, his words sound rehearsed, like he's said them a thousand times. It makes Steve's chest ache, with pain for Eddie, and with anger for whoever told him that any part of himself was annoying. Especially this part, a part of him that Steve is sure is pure joy, made visible, made tangible and expressive.
"It's not annoying." Steve says, and he sounds... mad? A little. But not at Eddie. Eddie's eyes snap up, lock on Steve's face, he doesn't blink.
"It's not." Steve reaffirms, one shake of his head. He moves his hand, slides it across the table top slowly, towards Eddie, and then turns it, palm up, waiting.
Eddie's eyes twitch from his face to his hand and back again. Steve smiles, small, and wiggles his fingers, gives Eddie a nod.
"C'mon. It's okay." He nods his head again, eyes dropping to his hand and then back to Eddie's face. Eddie swallows, sits a little straighter, unwraps his arms from his stomach. Steve sees his arms flex, knows Eddie is squeezing his thigh under the table, nervous. But then he moves, slowly brings his hand up, and places it in Steve's.
He sighs, the contact he's been waiting for finally made, Eddie's breathing is shakey as he watches Steve curl his fingers around his hand, pull it closer across the table.
"It's not annoying Eddie it's-" Steve pauses. Eddie frowns, a grimace really.
"Hey. No. I mean it. I like it." Steve says, and Eddie looks at him, his eyes moving back to their tangled hands over and over.
"You do?" He asks, and he sounds so fucking small. So unsure. So Steve does the only thing he can think of, he stands, drags Eddie to his feet as well, and then presses a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"I do. I really do. That's why I was staring." Steve says, breathes it against Eddie's hand, smiles when Eddie's fingers twitch against him.
"I'm sorry it made you uncomfortable. But it wasn't because I was annoyed. I promise you that. You believe me?" Steve ducks his head a little, tries to get Eddie to look at him, he's got his free hand up by his mouth, his nail worrying between his teeth. And Steve has to smile, can see Eddie thinking, trying to make sure he does, believe Steve. One moment more and Eddie nods, presses his lips together, and looks at Steve.
"I believe you." He says, teeth worrying into his lip.
"Good. So you- I mean you don't have to hide it. Around me. If you don't want. Cuz I meant what I said. I like it. A lot." Steve feels heat rush into his cheeks and closes his eyes, breathes against Eddie's knuckles for a moment before he looks back up to see Eddie smiling at him. Looking a little in awe. A little breathless.
"You like it that much?" His nose scrunches and Steve just want to fucking kiss him. He nods instead.
"Yeah. I really do. It's like you've got... I don't know... happy little bat wings. Just flapping around you when you're having a good time. I love it. I love-" Steve stops, the words caught in his throat, because that's too much. Maybe. For right now. But he feels it. Has felt it for Eddie for awhile now, the warmth of it humming beneath his skin when Eddie's near him.
Eddie's beaming at him now, tears shining in his eyes, he hides behind his hair, for just a second, before he darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's, a quick press, and then he's gone again, and the space between them is small but still too much.
"Sorry. I've never done that before." Eddie breathes. Steve watches something that could be fear, or regret, pass over Eddie's features like a shadow, and refuses to let it stay there, not even a second longer.
He drops Eddie's hand and cradles Eddie's neck, draws him closer, til their sharing breath.
"Stop apologizing. I want this. You." Steve whispers, pressing his forehead to Eddie's.
"I want you t-"
And Steve kissing him. Slow. Sweet. His hands holding Eddie close. Steve moves his tongue along Eddie's bottom lip, smiles into Eddie's mouth when he gasps, and then deepens the kiss, just so, tilting Eddie's head a little for a better angle. Eddie moans into his mouth, his hands scrambling to grab at Steve's back, clenching in his shirt and unclenching as Steve tilts his world on it's axis.
And then Steve feels it, Eddie's hands, tapping against his back, like he'd thought about since that first day, like he'd dreamed about, on several occasions. Too many to count.
Steve hums into Eddie's mouth, smiles against his lips, their teeth clicking together as Eddie smiles too, laughs into Steve's mouth, his breath filling Steve's lungs as they cling to each other.
See, Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
He just knew they'd feel perfect tapping out happy rhythms against his skin.
And for once, in his traumatic, full of bullshit life, Steve was right.
He's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.
But he does love them.
The way they move, and shake, and show all of Eddie's joys, wild, and uncontrolled.
And his to hold.
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fortnightdjo · 20 days ago
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I drew steddie bats!!!
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marymarvels-blog · 3 months ago
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Chim: omg Buck you started dating someone?
Buch: ehh no?
Chim, holding his phone: then who is “my princess”?
Buck: ..no one..
Chim: okaay.. *proceeds to call*
Buck: WAIT NO
Eddie, on the other side of line: hey babe, how are you doing?
Chim:..
Buck: ..
Hen: ..
Chim: okay, I learned my lesson
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steventhusiast · 7 months ago
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Steve and Eddie both being autistic and not finding out until one of their kids gets diagnosed autistic in the late 2000s.
Turns out when you grow up not knowing you're processing things differently to everyone else, the alarm bells don't go off when your kids do the same. Not for them anyway. Not until a teacher called them to set up a meeting and gently suggested they get their kid assessed.
And while they're at the appointment, after making a few too many comments like "but that's normal right, I did that?" about different things, they end up leaving with a phone number for another doctor. Everything slots into place, they just don’t really know how to start unlearning their masks.
But they try. If not for themselves, for their kid, who they don’t want to grow up learning to detach themself and hide away from the world.
So they figure out how to help each other. They remind each other that stimming is okay and normal, try to set a good example for their kid of letting themselves self-regulate that way. They put time into figuring out everyone in their family's individual sensory sensitivities, and adjust their environments accordingly. They consciously try to be more direct with each other and their kids to avoid pointless misunderstandings. They try to work through the shame they feel when being their true selves around other people.
And they’re not always successful. But they do understand themselves a little better every day.
Plus, seeing their kid be able to grow up unmasked? To be authentically themself, without shame? It's healing. They never got to have that (may never truly have that), but they're gonna make damn sure their kid does.
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