#eddie's pov

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

Eddie Munson x Reader

Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(He preferred to be called Eddie).

(That’s why you called him Edward. It was his father’s name, too).

He was also your first heartbreak. And the worst one yet.

It started in Hawkins. All the bad things in your life had started there. You couldn’t have been more than five years old, and Edward was almost adorable back then. He was fun, had an amazing imagination, and loved playing with you. You loved him, too.

You slew dragons and fought in the name of Queen Buttons- your stuffed hippo- for years, so when his first actual battle came, you expected to be by his side.

He didn’t, apparently. His mom was gone and his father abandoned him. Eddie ended up living with his uncle in a place that held little resemblance to a castle.

Of course, he didn’t tell you any of that. Instead, he described the infinite garden he had in his new home; how it was full of adventures and characters out of a tale. He told you about the dangers he faced- the monsters in the hallway, the darkness wanting to take him, the fae that stole his lunch. He explained that the way to his abode was long and full of traps and risks. He didn’t want you to venture into such a dangerous path.

So you didn’t. With Eddie, imagination and reality were always too close to see the difference. Besides, he was just as energetic as always. He even gained some weight; it was easy to tell.

There were other changes, though. Ones that happened slowly. Seamlessly. His favorite color went from red to black. He said once it reminded him of his mom, and proceeded to ask what colors you liked best in the same breath. His childlike interest for shiny things evolved into a collection of chains. They started appearing clasped onto every pair of jeans he owned. His laugh was louder every time you said something even remotely funny.

And his eyes were weaker and weaker.

They used to have a wild spark. Two dark bonfires, the promise of well-intentioned mischief. But his laugh was a gush of wind, and every time he opened his mouth it was like blowing at the agonizing embers.

It was a dark spell, a silent curse that poisoned him- or so you thought. He bailed on you one time, and you forgave him instantly. Who woulnd’t? He said he was sorry. And did it again a couple weeks later. Nothing to worry about. He hadn’t bailed in literal years; you could cut him some slack. Until there weren’t any more sleepovers or playdates, no more walks to find treasures by the forest or cheap ice cream listening to his stories.

Then came the summer break, and Edward disappeared. Not really, of course. You saw him once with his uncle at the grocery store. Once. He was alive and healthy, as far as you could tell. Then where had he been? Why hadn’t he been with you, as usual? You didn’t even remember summers without him.

The last day of vacation, you found a silly little dragon ring. It was most definitely made out of plastic, but it was gold and has two fake diamonds as eyes. With a little bit of imagination, it could pass as a dragon rider’s ring. It was meant for Edward, of course. Who, if not him, would wear it with pride?

But he never wore it. Not even to try it on when you gave it to him.

It was the first day of school, and, after years of friendship, the first day you sat alone in class. Which was stupid because he also sat alone. His hair was gone, and his eyes looked even bigger. It just made it worse when he smiled and nodded as a thank you, because there was no light in them. The fire had gone out, at last.

You had tried, alright. Over and over. But if the princess didn’t let his hair fall, then there was no way for you to climb the tower and save him.

You made friends with other people, life went by. It never stopped for things like this.

That was the first time Edward Munson broke your heart. At least, that time he had the decency to do it slowly, carefully. A death by natural causes. He didn’t have the same consideration the next time.

A/N: new series!! A little old, actually, but new for you guys! Hopefully it's at least entertaining. Chapters will be short but bitter, just the way I like my writing ;)) If you want me to, I can make a taglist (I have one for Pure Imagination, but I don't know if anyone will be interested in being tagged for this one), just comment or send an ask and I'll add you. Have a nice week! ♥️

[cupcakeatsea]

Can we talk about how Buck is from Eddie’s perspective? He’s not silly or dumb or a himbo or any of the other things I actually love about Buck but make him a less serious character.

In each FaceTime Buck is competent, smart and reassuring. He’s making dinner at the station which means multitasking and good cooking skills. He’s available when Eddie calls which is reliable. He listens and offers good advice. He’s selfless and doesn’t take the opportunity to encourage Eddie home when we know he feels like he’s missing a limb without him. I’m not sure, but I think Buck even stutters less? He’s calm and confident, more sure of his advice and obviously doubts himself less.

Buck from Eddie’s perspective is everything Buck wants to be for the people he loves. Yes, Buck and Eddie also get to be silly together and we see that in Buck’s view, but how beautiful is it that he’s also this mature and stable partner?

[writingadjacent]

Robin knows Steve well. She basically knows what and when Steve is going to do and say. Not to say that he doesn't have free will but... well... Robin knows.

He sat on her bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling and Robin very much knew that whatever he said next was either going to be really insane or very important. Robin paid attention, not that she wouldn't have anyway.

"Do you think men are hot?"

Robin looked over at him. Apparently, Steve had chosen insanity. "No. that's what being a lesbian means, Steven."

"No, I mean, like, even though you're not like... gonna kiss them, they're just, objectively hot," Steve said, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"No?" Robin said, lying down next to Steve. He tilted his head to lean on her shoulder a bit. "Men just... look like men. I wouldn't find them hot or cute or whatever."

"Am I not cute?" Steve looked up at her with his big eyes, bugging them out like he does when he wants something from her. "Come on Rob-bob, am I not cute?"

She shrugged slightly, laughing and dodgeing when he tried to smack her pillow into her face. "God, yeah okay, you're cute, Steve. Tell me about the guy you found hot, though."

Steve laid back down, almost entirely ignoring her attempts at eye contact. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You wouldn't ask if you didn't find someone hot."

"Ugh," Steve said, hiding his head in his hands. "I didn't really... I mean, I guess I've always found guys hot-"

"Wait for real?" Robin asked, not judging, just interested.

"Yeah. And you know, I just thought all guys thought Tom Cruise was kind of hot and that Han Solo had really pretty hair. But then, I don't know, as I got older I realized they didn't and you know, I just didn't really want to deal with that..." Steve paused, his eyes on the ceiling as Robin rolled to curl into his side, her head on his shoulder. He brought his arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

"But then you met me?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah, basically. I guess I made my own way in the world and I stopped paying attention to what people thought of me and honestly, I just stopped paying attention to that part of myself for so long that I didn't notice it had come back until recently."

Robin nodded. That made sense. It was dumb but that made sense. "So which guy did you find hot enough recently for it to knock you back to yourself?"

Throwing his hand over his face, Steve muttered something that, despite her closeness to him, Robin had no idea what he'd said.

"What?"

"mmmmm Munson."

Robin blinked. She sat up and stared down at Steve. Blinked again.

"You know, you could absolutely have picked a worse guy but at the same time... Eddie?"

"He's kind of a loser."

"Yeah, very much so."

"It's really hot."

"You know what, Steve?"

"What?"

"You're allowed to think that..."

[hairmetal666]

"Is this always how they act?" Jonathan asks. He has to lean close and yell a little for Robin to hear him over the noise of the house party.

"Yup," she says.

She, Jonathan, and Argyle continue to stare at Eddie, sitting in an easy chair, Steve perched happily on his lap. Eddie has a whole bowl of bbq Lay's, and Steve will lean back for a chip, which Eddie feeds him with a smile.

"And they're definitely not dating?" Argyle asks when Steve leans back to whisper in Eddie's ear, mouth pressed close. It's deeply gratifying that they just got in from California and already they see it.

"Steve says no."

"You think he's lying?" Jonathan asks.

"I think he doesn't realize he likes Eddie yet."

Eddie tugs at Steve's hair, and Steve turns back, gives him a smile that's so intimate Robin can't stare directly at it. Instead, she turns to her friends, but Argyle is still watching Eddie and Steve. He's drumming his fingers against his chin, expression what Robin could only call mischievous.

"What are you planning?" Jonathan asks.

"Just helping some bros find true love."

Jonathan looks mildly concerned but before he can say anything, Nancy makes her appearance. And they're something, becoming something, and she cares about Eddie and Steve getting their shit together, but Nancy is smiling and she's so, so pretty. It's easy to get lost in the blue of her eyes and the sweep of her hair and forget about everything else.

---

A few hours later and they're all sitting around a coffee table in the basement, just the six of them. It's sort of funny, she thinks, how it always ends up being the six of them.

They're crossfaded already, but that hasn't stopped Eddie and Argyle from lighting another joint. Her thoughts have gone light and floaty, all that's holding her to earth the press Steve's leg and Nancy's hand against hers.

Argyle is sort of monologuing and she doesn't think any of them are paying much mind, but then he stops mid-sentence, grips Jonathan's shoulder tight enough that his knuckles go white. "Dudes. What if we played Truth or Dare?"

Nancy snorts. "Not on your life."

"I don't think I can move?" She says. She leans into Steve, sighing with contentment.

"I, for one, would love to see Buckley complete a dare," Eddie says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. "I've done plenty. Band kid, remember?"

"Ugh, curse the horny trumpeters." Eddie slumps on the coffee table in defeat.

"I'll have you know, they were very wholesome games."

Steve squints at her. "Wasn't there an orgy in someone's pool?"

She sniffs, looks away instead of answering, which makes everyone laugh.

"Speaking of sex," Argyle says. "No one catch your eye tonight, Harrington?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"That's new," Jonathan says.

Steve laughs. "I'm tired of hooking up."

He's told her that too, countless times. She thinks the real reason he hasn't dated in months is sitting right next to him, drumming his fingers on the coffee table.

"Maybe you've just lost your touch," Argyle says.

"I have not!" Steve clutches a hand over his heart. "If I wanted to, I could pull any girl upstairs."

"C'mon, my dude, no way you're that good."

"I was!" He looks to Robin, Nancy, Jonathan. "I was, back me up!"

"I don't know, Scoops wasn't your best work," she says.

"No, no, we said Scoops doesn't count! It was the hat. The outfit! I did fine after!"

"I happened to think the sailor costume was very cute," Eddie says.

"Thank you," Steve preens. He shifts away from her to lean into Eddie, who grins.

"I don't think we can trust Eddie's judgement here," Nancy says.

Steve points at her. "Yes, and I remember you being totally uninterested."

She squeaks in indignation, Robin smothering her own giggles behind her hand. "It was--it was hormones!"

"Yeah, very uninterested in me." Jonathan chimes in. There's a little second where no one reacts--the fact that Nancy was technically still with Steve when that happened ringing unspoken between them--before Nancy and Steve start to giggle.

"I've hooked up with everyone I've ever tried to," Argyle chimes in, nonchalant.

"No way," the whole group says.

"I've got the touch."

"C'mon, that literally can't be true just by like...stats," Steve says.

"Don't know what to tell you, my dude." Argyle's smile is smug. "I'm really good."

"You're just jealous," she tells him. She nudges his shoulder so he knows she's joking.

"No! Jealousy has nothing to do with it."

They erupt at that, calling out the obvious lie.

"I'm not upset!" Steve shouts over them. "I'm just saying, it didn't happen. Sorry, Argyle. You have bizzaro charm, but there's no way it has a 100% success rate."

"Sounds like jealousy to me, Stevie." Eddie cocks his head with a smirk.

"Harrington, you're so cute when you're competitive," Argyle says. "Anyway, it worked on--"

"Don't say Jonathan," Nancy, Steve, and Robin all say.

"Hey! Why not me?'

"Well, it's just--" Nancy waves her hand in the air. "You're. I mean. It's not hard."

Jonathan groans, hides his face in his hands as they laugh.

"I'll prove it to you," Argyle says to Steve. "100% success rate."

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce you."

"Oh, shit," she says.

She knows what's going to happen even before Steve puts his hands on his hips, awkwardly cause they're sitting, cocks an eyebrow, and says, "Okay."

Eddie grumbles something she can't make out, but Steve shakes his head, laughs. "Nah, it's just for fun, right?"

"Until it works." Argyle tosses his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Gimme your best shot."

They rearrange around the table, Eddie and Argyle swapping places.

Everyone is quiet for a second, Steve reaches for his drink. "You got great hands, Harrington," Argyle says.

"I--oh, what?" Steve splutters. He goes a little pink, and Robin thinks it's the first time she's seen him this flustered by a compliment.

"Yeah." Argyle takes his hand, traces along his palm and knuckles. "Big. Strong. Like you could really take care of someone."

Eddie kicks the table, sending it rocking, scattering empty cups and chip bags. Steve is crimson, totally oblivious to Eddie's flailing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He doesn't pull his hand away. Robin, everyone, is riveted.

"No one's ever told you that?"

"No. No one."

"That's too bad. It's probably all about your hair and your eyes and your body."

Steve smiles and it's one she recognizes, flirty and a little wicked. "You noticed my body?"

Argyle laughs. "Oh, c'mon, you know everyone notices that."

"Would you believe it if I told you I don't get enough compliments?"

"Not on your life."

Steve leans into him, giggles. "Well, worth a shot, right?"

"Always. You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you?"

"Ass, right?"

"It was how much you love your friends but you hide it behind a facade of disapproval. Made me think maybe you weren't used to the love you want to give being reciprocated."

They're all locked in on Argyle and Steve, but she notices Eddie flinch, move like he's about to stand, Nancy reaching out to stop him. She thinks, then, for the first time, that maybe this is mean to him. He doesn't know it's not real.

"Oh," Steve says. His voice breaks, a little, and her heart breaks for him. "I--oh."

"Your ass was the second thing I noticed," Argyle quips and the tension around the table breaks, Steve giggling.

With smooth confidence she never would have expected him to possess, Argyle cards his fingers through Steve's hair. "Just had to touch it for myself." His voice is soft.

"That all you want to touch?"

Argyle grins. "Not even a little bit."

She watches, stunned, as Steve leans in, face almost touching Argyle's. Eddie makes a noise, a pained cough, and Steve leaps to his feet.

"I can't kiss you!" He half-yells, stumbling.

"And why not?" Argyle asks. He's got a wild smile on his face.

"I'm in love with Eddie!" Steve's eyes are wide, panicked.

"I'm sorry," Steve says to him. "Eddie, I--"

But before he can get the words out, Eddie's climbing over the coffee table, sending drinks and snacks flying, the calls for him to get down ignored as he trips into Steve's arms.

"You love me?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I--got in my head about it and I--I hoped it didn't seem like I was leading you on because my words kept getting stuck, and--"

"Sweetheart." Eddie stops him. "I--" He breaks off, notices that the rest of them are raptly listening to the confession. "Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?"

They disappear upstairs, and she turns to Argyle in awe. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker. Are there more Doritos?"

---

Early in the morning, they're piled in Nancy's station wagon, Jonathan driving them home. She and Nancy are in the middle seat, Steve and Eddie in the back. Steve's curled against him, face pressed to his neck, hidden by a cloud of hair. She wants to ask what happened, how their conversation went, if they're official and how long Steve's known he's in love, but Nancy moves closer, head dropping to Robin's shoulder. Their fingers entwine and Robin closes her eyes, smiles.

"Tomorrow?" Nancy asks.

She nods. "Tomorrow."

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, holding the phone too close to his face: Hey guys, I just got a text from my husband and now I’m on my way to his school be- he’s a teacher!

Eddie: He’s a teacher. Not a student.

Eddje: I’m driving to his school right now because he accidentally brought our cat to work with him

[divorce-enjoyer]

eddie diaz is so funny. first thing you learn about him is that hes really really hot. second thing you learn about him is that he seems really really chill. third thing you learn about him is that hes a dad. fourth thing you learn about him is that he has about a million different barely concealed neuroses bubbling beneath the surface at all times. fifth thing you learn about him is that hes catholic

[carlthecloaked]

Wrong Number, Right Person

tried writing something after a while :3| 1.3k words | no cw |

|chapter 2|

Steve was pissed.

This date was not working out. At all.

He thought he was going out with this sweet guy from California. At least, that’s what his Tinder profile had made it seem like. But clearly, he had been very wrong.

Where would he even start?

First of all, the guy wouldn’t shut up about his ex.

Like, she sounded great and all, but maybe don’t talk about her the entire time we’re on a date?

Secondly, he wasn’t even listening to what Steve was saying. Half the time, he was scrolling through Instagram, looking at his ex's profile. Laughing at whatever post he was looking at, or he was texting someone else.

Third—and perhaps the worst part—the guy had the personality of a wet sock. Zero energy. No conversation skills. Just dull. Clearly not the charming, funny guy he’d seemed to be over text.

Steve sighed internally. Guess that was his fault for believing his Tinder profile was real.

And then, as if the date wasn’t already bad enough—

“So, are we going to your place or mine? "

Steve barely stopped himself from gaping. He forced a polite smile instead, setting down his drink.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is working out,” he said smoothly, placing his half of the bill on the table. “I have to go.”

The guy blinked, as if he hadn’t just bombed the entire date.

“But wait—”

Steve walked fast out of the cafe, he had to get out of there quickly.

“Ugh, that was the worst. I have to go tell Robin.”

While walking to the subway, he winced as he opened his backup phone. It wasn't as good as his currently broken phone. He totally didn't drop it in the toilet. Nope, that never happened.

He sighed, scrolling through his messages. He still hadn’t updated his contacts, so every number looked unfamiliar. Normally, he’d recognize Robin’s name instantly, but now? It was just random numbers.

He just figured he would text the most recent number, It'll probably be fine.

Steve: WORST date ever. like worst ever. robs i swear to god i wish i could turn back time and never swiped right on him at all. if you ever see me texting him again, throw a microwave at me

Unknown Number: any personal preference or do i just chuck it at you

Steve: chuck it

Steve: robbie i swear it was SO bad

Unknown Number: oh i didn't realize you'd actually think i was your friend

Unknown Number: uh yeah so this is not robbie

Oh. Steve blinked at his phone.

Huh.

That was… unexpected. But not bad, necessarily. Just—Huh.

He stared at the message for a second longer before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. This was fine. Totally fine.

Steve: oh god

Steve: i'm so sorry wrong number

Unknown Number: it's fine lol

Unknown Number: but how bad was it though, like on a scale of “awkward as hell” to “can the ground swallow me whole?”

Steve hesitated.

He shouldn’t keep talking. He should just apologize again and move on.

But… what else was he doing today?

Steve: definitely “can the ground swallow me whole?” territory

Unknown Number: okay now i'm definitely invested. spill the tea

Steve: dude. he kept on going on and on about his ex, i swear it went on for 30 minutes. THIRTY. MINUTES.

Unknown Number: 🚩🚩🚩 IMMEDIATE red flag, redder than the color red

Steve: RIGHT??? and when he finally stopped he just kept scrolling on his phone

Steve: he was stalking her insta too 😭

Unknown Number: are you fr???

Steve: i wish i was lying but nope

Steve: then when i tried talking about literally anything else other than his ex he’d just respond with “yeah” or “whatever”

Unknown Number: what does that even mean??????

Steve: i have literally no idea

Steve: he even had the NERVE to ask if we would go to his place or mine

Unknown Number: the AUDACITY. the sheer unhinged delusion. did he think he was charming?????

Steve: LMAO stop i can't💀

Unknown Number: i bet he thought you 'd swoon bat your eyelashes and say “oh my god, yes! let's go to another place where you can pretend i'm not there!”

Steve lips curled at the stranger’s response before replying back

Steve: honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he thought that i should be grateful for his presence

Unknown Number: i can't believe you suffered through that

Unknown Number: no wait, you didn't suffer. you endured and you survived. for that you deserve an award. a dramatic opera performance

Steve: i hate how funny you are

Steve grins at his phone.

Unknown Number: you can repay me by continued conversation ;)

Steve: okay but you have to say who you are though

Steve: please don't tell me this is my professor🙏

Unknown Number: lol no definitely not your professor

Unknown Number: but i kinda want to keep it secret now, adds to my mysterious aura

Steve: no hints? :(

Unknown Number: i have hair

Steve: wow that really narrows it down. i totally know who you are.

Unknown Number: good luck finding it out ;)

Steve tilted his head, amused.

There was a pause.

Steve stared at his phone for a second, drumming his fingers against the back of it. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this felt… different. Not bad, just—unexpected.

He should probably just let it go. It wasn’t like it mattered who this guy was, right?

Still.

Steve: so are you gonna give me a real hint or do i just have to suffer

Unknown Number: hmm. suffer sounds fun

Steve let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. Great. Just his luck to end up texting someone who enjoyed messing with him.

And, okay. Maybe he didn’t mind that much.

The subway car jolted slightly as it began to slow, Steve barely looked up from his phone, used to the way the train moved as it went into the station. The train came to a stop, the doors opening with a mechanical chime, letting in the sound of city noise and passengers.

He stood up getting out and walking to his and Robin’s apartment nearby, glancing at his phone occasionally to check if the stranger texted again.

Steve barely had the door open before Robin’s voice rang out from the couch.

“Finally! What took you so long? Did the date go well?”

Steve groaned, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the couch next to her.

“You have no idea. I swear to God, worst date ever.”

Robin gasped dramatically, “Worse than the girl who ordered an expensive meal and made you pay?”

“Way worse”

“Way worse than the one who left you at the bar for three hours?”

“Robin.”

“Okay, okay tell me everything.”

Steve launched into the whole story, how the guy wouldn’t stop talking about his ex, stalking his ex’s instagram, the dry-ass responses and the sheer audacity of asking if they were going to his place or their shared apartment.

“That’s tragic Steve, how are you so unlucky at this?”

“I have no idea man, I guess I just attract weird people.”

“Why didn’t you text me?”

Steve suddenly sat up, remembering. “Oh, speaking of.”

Robin narrowed her eyes.

“So, uh I may or may not have accidentally texted a stranger about it.”

Robin grinned in amusement. “What?”

“I thought it was you!” Steve said defensively. “I haven’t updated my contacts on this phone yet, and I just picked the most recent number in the list.”

Robin stared. “Wait. Hold on. You had a whole conversation with a stranger instead of asking who they were like a normal person?”

Steve shrugged. “They were funny.”

Robin gasped again, dramatically. “Oh my god. You like them.”

“What? No. I dont even know who they are!”

“But you want to”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

Robin grinned, throwing a pillow at him. “You absolute idiot. We’re figuring this out right now.

Steve caught the pillow. “Fine. But if this turns into some embarrassing rom-com nonsense I’m blaming you.”

“Oh it’s already a rom-com, Stevie. You just don’t know it yet.”

Steve sighed, but smiled anyway.

Maybe he did want to know.

[stervrucht]

Eddie likes messing with his friends.

Call it a love language if you will.

Messing with Steve is a special form of entertainment, but only because Eddie still hasn’t figured him out. With most people, he knows just how to push their buttons. 

Steve Harrington is different.

He’s a little too perfect maybe, with his good looks and his rich parents. And it’s totally unfair that Steve is actually a nice guy and a fucking badass to boot.

If there is a god, he sure wasn’t very fair with his Ability Scores on this one.

So yeah, Eddie doesn’t have a lot to work with and Steve is apparently hard to phase. Eddie teases him; is a little mean about it just to get a rise out of him. And really, it’s a form of endearment. He does it to everyone he likes well enough.

Only Steve doesn’t really respond all that much. The best Eddie can do so far is a little scoff, and he figures it’s probably Dustin’s fault—that kid has a serious mean streak. By now, Steve’s tongue is sharp like a sword on a wetstone. He can bounce insults back with the same energy with which they are received, and although Eddie is endlessly entertained by it, it doesn’t yield the desired results.

He wants Steve riled up. 

It isn’t until Eddie says something nice—something he actually means—that Steve is left speechless and flustered. 

He likes that much more than a snarky back-and-forth. 

And it clicks something in his brain—unleashes something much worse than Steve has seen of him before. 

Eddie can’t stop praising Steve. 

“You’re doing so well.”

“You’re so good for me.”

And Steve flushes that pretty pink color every time.

Yes, Eddie likes it much better this way. 

That Steve Harrington can’t take some praise without popping a boner.

[loveinhawkins]

“What happened to Steve?” Dustin asks.

He’s already shut the door so no-one can overhear, has left everyone else—almost everyone—in the living room. He can make out some sounds in the background: Robin, who’s still talking overly loud, valiantly trying to drown out the noise coming from the bathroom; from Nancy who’s locked herself in there, and the sound of running water only half covers up stifled, sobbing gasps—each one makes Dustin’s stomach drop.

And if he really concentrates, he can hear the quiet creak of Steve pacing in concern, and there, every other step or so, the movement stops abruptly. It’s barely a second before it starts up again, but Dustin knows when Steve’s bracing himself, knows when he’s in pain.

And there are way too many things he can’t solve—Nancy’s hidden, gut-wrenching cries are another unwelcome reminder of that fact.

So he asks again, “What happened to Steve?” because he knows, if nothing else, he can solve this.

Eddie jumps, confirming Dustin’s suspicions that he didn’t hear the question the first time. He’s sat hunched over on his bed, surrounded by scattered piles of tapes from their panicked search earlier. He looks up, blinks a couple times like his mind’s been somewhere else for a long while.

“What happened to—? Uh, why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Because, Dustin thinks, you can’t lie for shit.

He doesn’t say it, but maybe Eddie suspects something, because he mutters, “Sure, sure, okay,” under his breath and clears a spot for Dustin on the bed. He keeps dropping tapes, like his hands are too unsteady to keep a hold of them; there’s a crack in one of the plastic cases already.

Dustin sits, and then Eddie tells him. It’s not like he hadn’t guessed something kinda close to it, but the confirmation is good to have.

“So. Demobats,” Dustin says in summary, because Eddie had trailed off near the end, as if he was reliving the dive into The Upside Down all over again. He cracks a smile at the name, though.

“Cute.”

“And Steve… like, he a rode a bike and everything so he’s…?”

Dustin tries to make his thumbs up look as confident as possible. Eddie nods a little too slowly for his liking, but he’ll take it.

“Yeah, um. Hey, Dustin, does, uh, all of that…” Eddie waves a hand vaguely. “Does that, like, happen a lot? Historically?”

Dustin doesn’t need to ask what he means.

Several memories battle to reach the forefront, but what wins is Steve in the junkyard before anything had even happened, how he whistled, bat in his hands. And Dustin had firmly filed the whole thing under awesome which yeah, it was, and maybe if he keeps thinking about how awesome it was, he won’t have to think about—

“He just—he just needs someone to watch his back.”

It’s almost a non-answer because it’s true of everyone, a Party rule so obvious it goes without saying. Still, Eddie nods again, and when he rearranges the last of the tapes his hands don’t shake.

“That I can do,” Eddie says.

There’s a edge of self-deprecation to the words, like he’s saying it’s one of the few things he’s capable of, and Dustin wants to push back against it because it’s not fair. Eddie’s only at a disadvantage in that it’s like he’s joined a long-running D&D campaign mid-way through, missing pages and pages of notes, and all he’s got time to get is hastily thrown together bullet points.

The creak of Steve’s footsteps suddenly gets louder before there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Come on in, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve opens the door. “What’re you doing?” he says casually, but Dustin can tell he’d been worried; his eyes flicker around the room as if he’s checking it’s still safe.

“Oh, just getting Henderson to work on his tone.”

A millisecond ago, Dustin had been all for whatever excuse Eddie could come up with. But now…

“My what?”

Steve laughs like this is all very funny. Dustin keeps his eyes sharp even in his indignation, takes note of how Steve holds himself as he leans against the doorway: not relaxed by any stretch, but there’s no longer the awful sense that he’s holding his breath in pain. And the bandages wrapped around him are dry, Dustin double-checks to be sure. It’s not ideal—none of this is—but he can work with it.

Meanwhile, one thing he can’t work with is baseless slander.

“I don’t have a tone, what the hell.”

Eddie heaves a sigh. “That’s exactly what someone with a tone would say.”

Dustin kicks him.

And in the middle of Eddie pretending to be mortally wounded, he sobers abruptly—must notice the same thing just ahead of Dustin, that the water in the bathroom’s stopped running.

Eddie catches Steve’s eye. “Wheeler?” he mouths.

Steve pauses. “She’s okay,” he mouths back, and then mimes with his hand, five minutes, which is absolutely not the whole story, but it’s the one they’re getting for now.

And if she needs some more time, Dustin can find plenty more sources of distraction. What he settles on is a double take that would put Drama Club to shame.

“Wow, Steve, that’s a cool vest, where’d you get it?”

He dodges Eddie’s kick.

“Tone, dickhead,” Steve returns easily, and he grins, glances over to Eddie with a wry shake of the head.

The bathroom door clicks open, and Dustin hears Robin warmly greet Nancy in the living room. Steve looks relieved, pats the doorframe a couple times before he beckons for him to be followed out.

Dustin hesitates the tiniest bit so he can keep an eye on how Steve walks. He turns back to Eddie with one last questioning thumbs up; Eddie, still a little pink in the face, smiles back and gives a reassuring wink.

[steddielations]

Eddie stumbles into his queer awakening because he starts obsessing over why none of the girls Steve hooks up with actually want to date him. Eddie doesn’t even know what "perfect boyfriend material" is, but he knows it’s Steve.

Steve is confident but not full of himself like Eddie once thought. He’s romance novel level protective. Girls love that shit right? And he surprisingly has a goofy side, a sassy one too, and it’s all wrapped in charm that makes it work.

Sometimes Eddie even feels like Steve is flirting with him… Smiling at him when he comes to the video store, leaning over the counter close to him, looking at his lips even when he’s not talking. 

It flusters Eddie, makes his heart beat funny and puts a strange warmth in his stomach. The way he imagines any girl in Steve’s beamer feels when he kisses her while some radio love song plays, but Eddie assumes Steve has that effect on everyone. Right? Eddie doesn’t get a lot of attention like that, he can never tell when he has a crush or he’s just happy a girl gave him a look that wasn’t annoyed.

Then once, Eddie’s renting a movie and Steve asks to join him later, but he frames it like he’s asking Eddie on a date, giving Eddie that look that makes his stomach flutter and Eddie just can’t take it anymore.

Eddie blurts out, “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It hits him all at once as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

Oh.

Part 2

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

It was awful for Eddie.

He’d always known he was a little different from everybody else. At least from everybody else in this stupid town. But to the small, enthusiast, kindergarten version of you, that was fantastic. You somehow endured his never-ending energy, and your imagination was able to stretch as much as his: to the infinite. His games weren’t complicated: to you, they were the most entertaining thing ever. He’s never known someone who understood him quite like you did. Ever. He had someone who could see the world the way he did.

And then everything came crushing down. Suddenly, he wasn’t going on quests to stay away from a house that was falling down, but to try and find it again. Surely, if he was the bravest knight in the land, his father would have to come back, right? And, after slaying dragons, finding a cure for his mother’s absence couldn’t be that hard.

Except it was.

He had moved into a moldy trailer, on the far side of town, with an uncle that didn’t quite know what to do with him. At least he was trying, which was more than he could say about his father.

But he couldn’t let you, Queen of Wonders, see the fall of Eddie the Great. Your eyes were the only place where he was still someone; not a chore, a regrettable past or a problem to solve. You looked at him and saw just him.

But it was harder and harder to be the same person he had always been when he wasn’t that Eddie anymore. He had to take a break. Sometimes he couldn’t stop crying on time to walk to your house. It was okay, you wouldn’t get mad if he didn’t show up once. His smile grew heavier and heavier, and to wear it was an effort he didn’t always have the energy to accomplish.

He gave up. Eddie figured he’d be forever frozen in your mind, in a time when things weren’t actually good, but less bad than this. You’d loved that version of him even more than he did; you had a right to keep him. He told himself you’d take care of him, maintain him alive. Eddie hoped so, because he couldn’t.

He had made a habit of running away. It was easier. Better. So he hid from you in the hallways, ignored your pleading looks (hardest thing he’d ever had to do) and tried to build a life without you.

He failed.

Miserably.

Yeah, he got new friends. His relationship with Wayne improved, they worked as a team now. His band started sounding actually good, and he found enough people to start his very own D&D club.

And it was all pointless because he didn’t have his old friend. You weren’t there to listen to his music or fix his lyrics, and you and your beautiful mind weren’t giving him show-stopping characters to use in his campaigns.

Instead, you had friends of your own- he wasn’t on that list-, who shared your table with you at lunch. You didn’t talk to him anymore- which he couldn’t blame you for: it had been years, and not everyone could be a yearning idiot like he was- or even look at him that much.

To no one’s surprise, really. Certainly not his. You were always incredibly easygoing. Empathetic, funny, honest. Smart. There probably wasn’t a single soul in Hawkins that could say they didn’t like you. It also helped that you were insanely pretty. The margins of his notebooks could attest to that, full of doodles of your eyes and profile.

So what if he wanted to have your attention a little too much? Yeah, maybe he couldn’t go back- not being the mess he was. That didn’t stop him from wanting. You didn’t have to find out how bitter he had become. How cynical, what a coward he was. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to put up an act.

So he took the liberty of crafting this character for you. A misfit who gave grand speeches to highschoolers, who didn’t care about his place in the food chain. Someone who wasn’t invited to parties but was welcome anyway. The town’s Freak. He had made a name for himself and everything. He hoped you were proud. He hoped little Eddie, back in kindergarten, would have been proud if he saw him now.

Also, he enjoyed it way too much. The chance of being this person. The curated version of himself was way more interesting than the one inside his head, that’s for sure.

You’d always been one to enjoy being on the other side. You loved reading novels and watching movies, and listening to his stories. You always had time to analyze all the references and details.

That’s why he panicked when he saw your name in the list of Hellfire.

You weren’t supposed to be there. You were supposed to watch him yell in the cafeteria, the most perfect and distant audience. To walk past him, to know he was there without looking too closely or interacting. He was a good actor, amazing, even, but an actor still. And if you got too close, you’d see the cracks. The truth festering inside him, the rotten corpse of the person he had been- the person he should be.

The only solution was for him to make sure you wouldn’t get too close. He had distanced himself once, he could do it again.

It was easier, actually.

He just had to show you how life had been without you. Eddie was going to meet you all over again, except this time you were being introduced to the character.

Hii!! I'm so happy to finally be able to post this! I love the change in povs, and I think it'll help me learn how to write more complex texts. I hope you guys like it.

On a side note, it's my birthday today! I'll celebrate with my friends, so I probably won't be here much, but I programmed this post so you wouldn't have to wait any longer <3

Masterlist

Taglist: @am0iur , @arabellagreenleaf , @stylesxmunson , @exploding-bonbon , @ainelantv

[kitchen-spoon]

Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.

He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.

When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.

That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.

Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?

Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?

“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”

“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.

All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”

Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”

[milesfingers]

I hope no one has done it yet

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[morganbritton132]

Wayne is picking up some groceries from Melvald’s when he sees a kid slumped in the passenger seat of the chief’s truck. He’s got a black eye and a sour look on his face, and he’s parked right next to him.

Wayne puts his groceries in his truck and then taps on the window, “What’ya in for?”

“Living my life.”

Wayne laughs to himself at that before asking, “Didn’t get that black eye putting someone in the hospital?”

The kid snorts, “Hardly. Dickhead sucker punched me when I told him to stop messing with a bunch of kids. Didn’t have the chance to even hit back before Hopper’s on my ass.”

Wayne takes that into consideration and looks back at the store where Hopper is leaned over the check out counter, talking to Joyce Byers. He tilts his head back and decides, “Wanna get out of here?”

“What?”

“Prison break?” Wayne suggests, tilts his head towards his truck. “I’ll be the getaway driver.”

“Seriously?”

He gets a real smile out of a kid and his eyes light up the way Eddie’s does when he thinks he’s getting away with something. Wayne ends up taking the kid back to his house to hide out since he has a friend in Forest Hills, meets Max Mayfield, and has the best breakfast for dinner he’s ever experienced.

When Eddie finally exits his bedroom into this apparent alternate universe, he asks, “…why is Steve Harrington in our kitchen?”