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subcultureblues · 2 days ago

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When I Feel That Something (I Want To Hold Your Hand)

T | Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson | tags : Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship | cw : Period-Typical Homophobia, Discussions of Homophobia

———

It’s late and it’s been a long but lazy day. Eddie and Steve decided to go to that one diner in town that’s open late.

Eddie was drumming along to a nonexistent tune, his fingertips tap tapping away on his lap. He looked over at Steve very studiously reading the menu.

“You’re actually getting something different?”

“Nah.” Steve said without looking up. Eddie grinned. He figured as much. Steve was a creature of habit. Eddie was pretty sure he’d anyurize if they came here one day and they were out of strawberry ice cream for his milkshake.

And then he felt it. The slick bastard…. Without taking his eyes off the menu Steve had slipped his hand onto Eddie’s lap and tangled up their fingers.

He’s tenacious. Eddie’ll give ‘im that. Of course one glance around the diner and Eddie was elbowing Steve between the ribs.

“Hey.” Steve held the same hand against where Eddie had jabbed him as if it actually hurt, the big baby. “What was that for -“

“Heya. I’m Mylene. What can I get y’all tonight?” Eddie gave Steve a fabulously vindicated, ‘I told you so’ look as their waitress materialized.

She must be new or something because Eddie’s never seen her working here before.

Eddie let Steve order for him, because he too, is a creature of habit and Steve knows what he likes. The waitress hadn’t seen anything, clearly - considering she’s definitely flirting with him.

She’s pretty too. Soft, delicate face. A real Miss Indiana.

Eddie pretends to study his rings and Steve pretends not to notice her overtures.

And that’s as good as it’s ever gonna get.

As soon as she walked away Eddie could feel Steve scooting closer.

“Sittin’ awful close there, Stevie.” Eddie teased, smiling casually and looking straight ahead.

“Yeah, yeah…” he heard Steve slide back a few inches down the seat. Eddie snuck a glance and chuckled.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty when you pout.” Eddie whispered, nonchalantly stretching to rest his arms over the back of the booth. For just a second, he let the tip of his thumb brush the back of Steve’s neck.

Softly, Eddie hummed that one song Steve put on when he was feeling corny. I wanna hold your hand-a-aand. I wanna hold your hand. Because Eddie did. Really did.

Steve smiled ruefully, but - He was smiling. As good that was ever gonna get either.

When they get their separate checks, and no she didn’t ask, Steve’s had a number scribbled on the bottom. Next to the waitresses name and a little heart. Eddie huffed dryly, like maybe it was funny.

Steve reached past him and crumpled it. Left it there with the discarded napkins as they got up to leave.

“Can you believe her?” Steve muttered after they had stepped out of the diner and into the dark and cold. Eddie shoved his fists in his pockets to keep them warm.

Steve looked back at Eddie expectantly.

“Can’t fault a gal for good taste.” He shrugged. She didn’t do anything untoward. Eddie knew that. Steve did too. Still he was high strung, his shoulders tensed as they walked up to the van.

“You gotta get your head in the game, man.” Eddie said, opening the driver side door.

“What are you talking about?” Steve said, pausing in front of the open passenger side to look up and bite the inside of his cheek. When they were both inside they closed the doors and locked out the night chill.

“Come on, Stevie.” And then more reluctantly, almost apologetic he said, “You know what I’m talking about…”

“Yeah.” Steve pouted. God, what an adorable, majestic labradoodle of a man. Eddie never stood a chance…

Steve crossed his arms, uncrossed them. Crossed them again. “This sucks.”

“Yeah.” Eddie shrugged. “Doesn’t matter though. No, I’m serious. Stop with the face. I’m not gonna risk you getting - “ Eddie huffed. Obviously, Eddie wasn’t upset with him. But honestly… would it so hard for Steve, just once in his life, to not be quite so brave and shining and true. Just once.

For Eddie’s sake if not his own.

“You.” He said, “Do not get to get hurt over this shit. Capiche?” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie saw Steve mouth the word Capiche back to himself. Eddie valiantly resisted the urge to roll his eyes back into his skull. The two of them actually do have to take turns being entirely juvenile or nothing ever gets done around here. “I’m not - fucking letting that happen, alright? It’s just not worth the risk. So yeah. It sucks. But you gotta stop - “

“What?” Steve raised a bitchy eyebrow.

Eddie laughed, a bit startled at how just fond that look makes him feel. “Being cute.”

“Being cute?” Steve scoffed.

“Mmhmm.” Eddie said pulling out of the parking lot. “Cute.” He nodded definitively.

Steve rolled his eyes. He quietly waited for Eddie to finish fiddling with the radio, til he found a compromise worthy station, before speaking again.

“Ok, well.” Steve looked around. The roads were empty. It was dark. “What about, now….?”

Eddie lolled his head to look the opposite direction as Steve, biting his lip to hold back a ridiculously satisfied smile. Only then could he bare it - to glance at his boyfriend.

He was so sure Steve could see the big cartoon hearts in his eyes. It was annoying, when he was trying so hard to give Steve the ‘I told you to quit it’ eyes.

Steve put his hand over Eddie’s on the stick shift and locked their fingers together. Made a petulant noise, as if he was in active defiance.

“You’re one to talk about being obvious…”. Steve muttered

Eddie laughed. Steve had him dead to rights on that one.

“You know usually you’re meant to look at the road when you’re driving.”

Yeah usually. But then there was Steve in his car. Which, made it hard. And Eddie was a weak, weak man.

“God Steve Harrington... I love you so much sometimes it makes me sick.” He said smirking. Shaking his head at himself more than anything.

Sue him. He’s got Steve Harrington (yes that one) on his arm. He’s gonna be a little bit love struck for the rest of his life.

But now Steve was just slightly pink and biting his lip. Trying to contain himself, struggle against the upward tilt playing at the corner of his mouth. Still playing at mad while giving Eddie the ooiest, gooiest of eyes.

“Shut up…”

“Yeah. Because you fell in love with me for my strong but silent demeanor.”

“Yeah.” Steve looked out the window and huffed a laugh, squeezing his hand. “Something like that…”

Eddie still has no idea what about his ‘wet rat on the run from Johnny Law’ look had managed to charm Steve, but he refused to question it.

Eddie shifted the car in a higher gear, but Steve hand stayed right there on his. Didn’t move the rest of the way home.

When they got back to the trailer, they puttered around in easy silence. It was familiar. Eddie kind of loved it. That Steve didn’t even ask before raiding his pack of beers. That he had shirts in the dresser and a toothbrush next to Eddie’s and that he left his ridiculous shampoo here even though he knows Eddie’s been siphoning from it.

Hell, at this point he knew what drawer they kept the spatula. It was downright domestic.

That’s right folks. Eddie Munson had officially gone soft.

They were hanging out in his bedroom, Eddie playing his guitar at the head of the bed, one leg hanging off it and the other bent at the knee. Steve crisscross on the foot of the bed tossing a baseball of unknown origin up and down.

“I wish I could hold your hand.” He said, catching the ball just to stare at it.

“Steve.”

“No. It’s - I should be able to. It’s messed up.”

Eddie shrugged. Because such is life, amright? No point getting bent up out of shape about shit so, so very far out of your control.

Steve just sighed.

Because Eddie was used to the uh, - sociological blue balling. Whereas Steve, was not. Because Steve was new to all this.

“You can hold my hand now.” Eddie offered, but then he looked down at his guitar and thought about the riff he had almost perfected. “Ok, well not now.”

He stuck up his leg in the air and offered it in Steve’s direction.

“Here take this.” He said. Steve gave him an unimpressed face. Or maybe he could just smell Eddie’s socks and that look was judgement. Eddie wiggled his leg around in front of him a bit until Steve relented and pulled Eddie’s foot into his lap. Eddie grinned satisfactorily.

The baseball ended up rolling onto the floor and under the bed. Likely from whence it came. Steve barely even noticed. Still looking the wrong side of forlorn.

“Maybe I just don’t know what I’m missing out on.” Eddie shrugged, going back to running scales.

“I wish you did…”

“You wish I knew what I was missing out on so I’d suffer the more for not having it?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “That’s pretty fucked up, Stevie.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

“I want - fuck, man… I wanna just kiss you whenever I feel like it. Put my arm around you when I feel like it. And you know what? Yeah, maybe I want you to know what it feels like to get shown off a little. You… you should be, deserve to get shown off, you know…”

Eddie looked up at Steve. He was staring into space looking wistful. Sad. His hand still vaguely holding Eddie’s ankle. Eddie gently set his Baby down on the floor, propped up against the nightstand. Refocused his attention on his other Baby. Steve turned his neck to face Eddie, head tilted against the wall.

“It sucks. When you’re sitting right there and it can’t be like how I want it to be.”

“How do you want it?” Eddie risked indulging the hypothetical.

“I want em to know you’re mine.” Steve shrugged, picking at loose thread on Eddie’s thread bare jeans.

Eddie flopped back onto the bed, head sinking deep into his pillow. Sometimes it was like Steve was trying to stop Eddie’s heart in its tracks. He glared at Steve down the bridge of his nose.

“I thought I told you to stop being cute.” He pretended to grouse.

Steve’s lip twitched up but it didn’t clear the upset on his face.

“Can’t help it I guess…” Steve said quietly. Distracted.

“No. I guess you can’t.” Eddie agreed. He outstretched his arms, raising them and leaving them suspended in the air. Beckoning for his sweet prince. Waiting for his Steve to come fall into them. “Come on.” He encouraged, with a begrudging tone -one he’s sure was deeply unconvincing.

Steve crawled up the bed, and sunk down on top of his chest. Christ, he was he heavy. And warm. Like the sexiest, most suffocating sleeping blanket to ever hit the market. The last blanket Eddie’d ever need.

Eddie really did love the way Steve used his chest as a pillow. Steve settled so he was mostly not crushing Eddie’s lungs. He snuggled his cheek against his usual spot. Right over where Eddie’s got that screaming face tatt, just getting comfortable.

Eddie ran a hand up and down his shoulder, hoping it did something to soothe this something in Steve. Squeezed his arms around him. Snuggled his own cheek against the top of Steve’s head.

“You think I wouldn’t be running around town screaming about, Steve Harrington, man of my dreams if I could.” He said eventually. He could hear Steve rolls his eyes. “Here ye, here ye! Thine King has the tightest, hottest, most fuckab-“

Steve pushed him away with a hand on his cheek.

“I’ll show you fuckable…” Steve mimicked, muttering nonsense. He looked up at Eddie from his chest. Eddie looked down at him, with a positively lecherous eyebrow.

A look that said, Oh baby. You already are.

And yet… Steve wasn’t preening. Usually he loved how Eddie could lighten the mood. Made light of things because sometimes it did start to make them feel lighter. Said it helped when he got too in his head. But Eddie got the distinct feeling Steve wanted to… talk.

Perhaps counterintuitively… Eddie’s not the best at that. He can never seem to shut the hell up, until something important comes along and his silver tongue leaves him like a filthy deserter.

“This comes with the territory of being little Missus Munson, hey stop it! Stop it! Hmph. Ow…”

Steve did stop trying to poke him to death with his pointer finger. Eddie sighed.

“It does though… It comes with the… me.”

“Eddie. S’not like it’s your fault.”

“Yeah… Doesn’t mean I can do anything to change it.” He said quietly. Staring at the ceiling so he didn’t have to look at Steve. “I remember you in highschool. You always had some girl on your arm.” He said, eyebrows raised and sounding detached.

Steve poked at him again which made Eddie wriggle but it didn’t shut him up.

“You’d be… holding hands in the hallway. Making out against your locker. Under the bleachers… In the lunchroom...”

“Eddie.” Steve frowned. Eddie shrugged the shoulder Steve wasn’t lying on, resigned.

“I - can’t give you that, Steve.” He said simply, though words rose like bile in his throat. “This is… You can take it or you can leave it. But if you ever want to just,” Eddie felt too big for his skin. Felt sick and warm. Felt like his heart suddenly forgot its easy, devil-may-care rhythm. Which is why he tried not to think about it. This. Not to dream of things so far out of his reach. His eyebrows drew together. “You ever want to just - hold hands and walk down the street again… I’m not the person for that. You’re gonna have to um, your gonna need to, uh, find someone else.”

Someone like Mylene, Eddie thought numbly.

“Eddie.” Steve’s head rose from his chest. His face all twisted up. With that unconscionably cute pissed off little frown of his, the one he puts on when he gets all serious. The one for which Eddie had no earthly defense.

God, Eddie hated when his heart did this. Ached.

“Stop it. Don’t - I want to hold your hand. Show you off. Kiss you. Kiss you whenever I feel like it.” He scoffed. “Not just like for the fuck of it. What’s the point if it’s anybody but you, stupid.”

Eddie managed to smile. It was small and sad and he still couldn’t look at him. But it was there - and a lot more earnest than Eddie lets himself be a lot of the time.

Steve moved up his body and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s temple. Grounded them both at that point of contact.

“Hey.” Steve whispered. Eddie did finally face him. Prayed his eyes looked less scared than he felt. Steve put a warm open palm on the side of his neck. Slid it up to rest on his cheek. Stroking his thumb back and forth purposefully. He nosed at Eddie’s other cheek. “Hey. I love you. I really - I really need this. You.” He could feel the warmth of his breath in the shape of the words. Eddie dragged his nose down the bridge of Steve’s. He loved the way their skin on skin felt. Loved the way it made him feel, how it transported him somewhere simple and safe.

Like those ruby slippers from Wizard of Oz. Press them together, and suddenly… you’re home again.

Like magic.

“It kind of scares the shit out of me when you talk like that.” Steve said, quiet and pretending it hurts less than it really does.

Eddie closed his eyes and squeezed Steve in his arms.

“M’sorry.” Eddie mumbled into his neck. “…You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Right?”

“I better be.” Steve ribbed gently.

“We’ll uh,” he cleared his throat, but it still felt like there were like, rocks stuck in there or something. He tried again. “You won’t ever be able to get married… can’t have kids - s’illegal and all.”

“So what? Ya know? So what. I get to have… this, right?” He grinned, reverently running a hand through Eddie’s mess of hair. Scratching his fingernails softly into the back of his neck. “And I’d like to see them try and take that from me. I have a pretty scary bat, you know.”

“I heard about that.” Eddie murmured.

“Yeah? It’s all covered in like, nails and demon blood and everything.” He laughed softly, pressing his face into Eddie’s hair.

“You’re very metal, baby.” Eddie said, placing a kiss on his neck.

“And don’t think I won’t use it.” Now it Steve trying to unsuccessfully lighten the mood.

Eddie uncurled and laid back, just staring at the ceiling.

“You want it though. You’ve always wanted that…”

“Well. Yeah…”

Eddie’s eyes start to sting and somewhere in the back of his head his dad’s voice is there telling him to stop being a pussy, that he’s being a real baby about this, that he’s always been a fucking idiot. He’s too loose limbed and sedated to bother toughen up. Too tired to be impenetrable.

Steve kissed him. On the cheek, softer than anything else in Eddie’s life.

Eddie’s been slowly trying to wisen up to the fact that uh. When he and Steve are all pretzeled up like this, their whole bodies a tangle. When it’s dark and quiet and just them. It’s actually fine to feel like a pussy, and a total baby, and a fucking idiot. It just makes Steve kiss him like that. Squeeze a little tighter. Makes him want to stay folded up like this longer, as long as they can. Even when Steve like really, really has to pee.

Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do with himself when he looses this too. Steve nuzzles up against him, make a small sound. If, he tried to remind himself. If he looses it.

Pretty please, Jesus fucking Christ - Please be an if.

“I wanna marry you Eddie.”

“Ok.” Eddie shrugged, disaffected. He wants to marry Steve too.

He also wants a million dollars, a 84’ Flying V, to be trapped in an elevator with Gary Gygax for like 30 minutes, because he’s got some serious ideas about the rules alright?

He wants to be a rock star. He wants Wayne to be able to retire.

The wanting is the problem. It’s an indulgence that doesn’t do anyone much good. That just precedes a dull, drawn out ache.

Steve sat up very suddenly, straddling Eddie’s hips. And God, if Eddie’s not a boy because he’s way too easily distracted by Steve sitting on his dick. Steve stretches an arm out to reach over Eddie. He puts his hands on Steve’s hips to steady him as he goes to grab something off the nightstand.

Sweet. So they’re gonna fuck it out. Eddie won’t complain about that. Simple ecstasy? A carnal pleasure? That’s the #1 Munson Recomended method to treat self pitying bouts of despair, baby.

He was great with the words that didn’t matter, really not so much with the ones that did. And Steve always was and would be a man of action. And ok, maybe Eddie was even a little relieved to forget this conversation, this hole in his chest. Just, not have to think about it.

But then Steve didn’t present Eddie with a bottle of lube. Instead he was carefully holding one of Eddie’s rings pinched between two fingers. Eddie had slipped them off and put them on the nightstand (because as cool as they make him look on stage they’re clunky and obtrusive and practicing with them on his fingers gets on his nerves.)

“Marry me.” Steve said, presenting Eddie’s very own ring to him.

“Uh - “ His eyes crossed looking at it held up in front of his face.

Steve huffed.

“Fine. I Steve Harrington, ask thee, Eddie Munson, for your hand in marriage.” Steve said, gently picking up one of Eddie’s hands. He was just staring at Steve trying to figure out the punchline.

“Maybe not today, alright? But like, someday, right? There’s gotta be a a someday. And then I’m gonna marry you. First day they’ll legally let me do it.”

“Sure. We’ll probably be like, a hundred.”

“Ok.” He shrugged. Like for Steve it was that simple. It came that easy for him. “Would you want…?”

“Fuck you. Fuck you, man.” Eddie rolled them over so he was curled on top of Steve. Steve put up a struggle, slowly suffocating under him.

“I want it so bad it’s like a bullet to the chest.” He said, holding the love of his life down in an illegal wrestling move.

“You’f suz a drauma queen.” Steve mumbled under him. Eddie rested his weight his on his forearms, one on either side of Steve’s head, releasing the petulant creature from it’s confines. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And you’re… something else, Harrington.”

“It’ll be Munson won’t it.” And there’s a second round, a clean shot to the heart. He hides his face in Steve’s neck, pretending he’s not squealing on the inside like a teenage girl with a bad case of Beatle-mania.

“Fuck off.” He sighs. “You’re gonna kill me one day, Steve Harrington.”

“Steve Munson.” He sputtered a little, mouth open like he was trying to get a stray hair out of it.

Eddie made a sound like he’s dying.

“God that sounds awful actually.” Eddie said, as if he’s not gonna be writing it in little hearts in the margins of his notebooks. “Just. Does not roll off the tongue. Like at all.”

Steve’s fingers were trailing featherlight up and down his spine. “Yeah.” He agreed. And Eddie could hear the smile on the bastards face.

“Robin can be our incubator.”

“She agreed to that?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Steve snorted. “But I’ll wear’er down. She’s a total sap.”

Eddie snorted. She was a god awful hopeless romantic.

“You’re gonna force that poor lesbian to pump out 4 little Harrington’s?”

“Little Munsones. Munsonses?”

“Munsons?” Eddie raised a condescending eyebrow.

“Besides I don’t need 4, I’ll already have one giant fucking baby waiting for me at home.” He digs his nose into Eddie’s cheek accusatorially.

“You get one.”

“Three.” Steve bargained, eyes squinting in challenge.

“Two.” Eddie said, grinning widely.

“And a dog.”

“You get a hamster.” Eddie said, feeling warm all over. “Final offer.”

Two little tikes running around the house, screaming like banshees. He could read them The Hobbit when they’re all tuckered out and tucked in, to put them to sleep. Use all his silly voices.

He could teach them D&D and they could all giggle and create chaos together as a family, sat around the dining room table.

They could play princes and princesses and Eddie could be the big mean dragon - that they then vanquish in glorious combat. He would fall to his knees and ‘die’ oh so dramatically. He knows he would.

When they’re real little, he could bounce them on his knee like a cowboy. Do stupid shit like play peek-a-boo and blow raspberries on their tummy’s til they barfed themselves laughing. All the stuff he doesn’t remember but had wanted anyways.

He pictures himself up at 2 am with Steve standing behind him, pressed against his back. Having finally gotten the wailing little beast in his arms to fall back asleep; and he gets to hold something small and fragile and full of so much living potential and do it better this time around.

Damn.

He was crying, wasn’t he?

He just noticed. Steve had noticed too. He was quietly kissing up Eddie’s jawline, into his temple. Running those magical hands through his hair in a way that made him want to pur like a cat.

“Eddie?” He spoke softly.

Eddie sniffed. He grabbed at the fist Steve was still holding the ring in. “Gimme.” He said, frowning.

“Hey.” Steve warned. He took Eddie’s left hand by the wrist, slowly coaxed his fingers open. Carefully slid the ring on. Stared at it on Eddie’s hand. Smiling just, way too smugly.

Eddie flexed his fingers, testing his grip. It’s literally the ring he wears on his left ring finger almost every single day.

And isn’t that something. The way Steve can take something that should be entirely mundane. And make it mean everything to Eddie, make it mean the fucking world.

A very serious expression crossed Eddie’s face, then he reached over to the night stand and grabbed a handful of the rest of his rings.

He opened his palm and sorted through them by size. “What are you doing?” Steve asked. Eddie shushed him. Steve clicked his tongue but he went easily when Eddie reached out to grab his left hand.

“Oh.” Steve said, as Eddie went about trying a few different rings on his fingers. Steve’s hands were a lot meatier than Eddie’s. Steve was a fit guy, you see. Even his hands were bigger, more muscular. Eddie had slender guitar player hands. But eventually he found one, a simple silver band with a fleur-de-lis that fit like Cinderella’s glass slipper.

“Mine.” Eddie said, hugging Steve’s forearm tightly and trapping it possesively against his own chest. Steve looked at the ring on his finger. He turned his hand around in Eddie’s grip to press it flat against Eddie’s heartbeat. Then Steve kissed him, rested their foreheads together.

“You’re such a brute, you know that?” Steve said, kissing him again.

“I’ll show you a brute.” Eddie raised his eyebrows suggestively. They kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Have you heard about what’s going on in New York? And like San Francisco and stuff.”

“The big gay revolution? Sure.” Eddie shrugged. Kissed him again. Lots of tongue.

Does it still count as premarital sex after whatever that was? Eddie’s gotta be honest, he’s a little disappointed at the idea of their sex life getting even the slightest bit less actively sinful.

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm? It’s a nice dream. I’ll give em that.” Steve gave him a look. Eddie scoffed.

“I want to… I can’t just sit here, man.” Steve said. Because Steve was a man of action. Because when Steve sees a monster he just starts swinging. He held Eddie’s hand in his own, looking at the ring that was next to meaningless 10 minutes ago and it just wasn’t anymore. “I’m not kidding. I am gonna marry you. I want to be out there. Doing that. Until they have to let me.”

“I dunno, man…. I’m more of a rebel without a cause.” Eddie said, because activism’s an idealist’s game.

“Oh, come ooon. Fighting the power. Sticking it to The Man. Riots in the streets. You gotta admi-t. Pretty metal….” He grinned, knowing each and every one of Eddie’s weaknesses and exactly how to tempt him.

“Yeah. Ok, yeah it kinda is.”

It would be nice. Knowing there’s others people like them is different from actuating knowing other people who are like them. It’s crazy just how much Eddie’s life changed from having two people in the world who could get him the way Steve and Robin got him. They could drag her out there with them. Hit up the lesbian bars, ‘find her Eddie’ as she and Steve refer to it sometimes.

The music scene there is actually… existent. Unlike here. Eddie could… he try and make a name for himself.

They could… it sounds like a fucking pipe dream. That things could ever change. That people could ever change. That some day people like them wouldn’t have to be afraid.

But… fuck if Steve’s optimistic smile wasn’t convincing him of something. Convincing Eddie that hey, it’s at least worth a try, right?

“I wanna hold your hand.” Steve said quietly, even thought he was already holding it.

“That’s not very metal at all.” Eddie teased.

“I dunno… Feels pretty metal to me.” He said, absently playing with Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie huffed a laugh.

“Yeah… Yeah I guess it really is.”

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #Steve Harrington #steddie ficlet #I’m not joking when I say Period Typical Homophobia #mine

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