#hope watches stranger things

[solarmorrigan]

Silly idea I talked about ages ago with @azure7539arts, inspired by a similar event my workplace hosts every year. Would minors be allowed to participate in such an event? Probably not! But then again, it was the 80s, who can say for sure. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'll post nonsense if I want to <3

-

“I need you to buy me.”

Eddie looks up from his notebook, effectively jarred from his campaign-plotting fugue state by Steve’s declaration.

Steve is standing at the other end of the dining table, staring at him expectantly.

“Y’know, this is the part where someone usually follows up their completely bonkers demand with an explanation,” Eddie says slowly.

“At the charity auction,” Steve clarifies. “I need you to bid on me, and I need you to win.”

Ah, yes, that weird Rent-an-Athlete charity auction the school runs every year; anyone on any Hawkins High sports team could volunteer to be “auctioned” off in order to raise money for said sports team, to spend a day at the beck and call of the highest bidder (within reason, supposedly). It’s generally restricted to students, but occasionally, prominent alumni are invited to participate – and Steve certainly fits the bill, especially after the story the government spun about his heroism in the face of “serial killer” Henry Creel last spring.

“And what, deny all those pretty girls a chance to get at you?” Eddie asks drily (he’d never turned up at previous auctions himself, but you could hardly avoid gossip in a school their size; it had usually been some cheerleader bidding with daddy’s money who won a date– that is, a day with Steve Harrington).

“It wasn’t always a girl who won,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest. “One time it was Mrs. Dalton – you know, the lady on the school board who lives on my block? I just spent the day doing yard work for her. She gave me lemonade. That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eddie drawls. “And I’m sure she definitely didn’t sit outside and stare at your ass while you were working.”

“She did not– she– I mean she was on the porch, but, like– she wouldn’t have– she’s, like, seventy, Eddie,” Steve splutters, and it’s all Eddie can do not to laugh.

“Older gals have needs, too, Steve,” Eddie says, giving in to a smirk. “So she was checking you out from the porch, huh?”

Steve goes red. “Shut up, that isn’t the point. I’m trying to ask for your help.”

“Right, right, your absolutely reasonable request for me to buy you at market. Why, again?” Eddie asks.

“The kids are planning to bid on me,” Steve says gravely.

Eddie blinks at him. “Okay?” he says, when no further explanation is forthcoming. “You basically do most of what they ask, anyway, so…?”

“Okay, believe it or not, I actually say no to at least half of what they ask me to do. I would literally never get anything done if I gave in to all their demands.” Steve jabs a finger at Eddie, who holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, this is all Henderson’s fault.”

“It usually is,” Eddie agrees, nodding sagely.

“He decided that he was going to bid on me and then use that day to finally make me play your nerd game with you–” Eddie snorts, and Steve shoots him a look, “but Wheeler doesn’t want me to play, so he said he was going to bid against Dustin and make me do anything but sit in on a session with you guys.”

“So let Wheeler win.” Eddie shrugs.

“No! I can’t let fuckin’ Mike win, he’ll probably make me do something even more ridiculous!” Steve exclaims. "He’ll make me play chauffeur for him and El on a date, or something, and he’ll probably include the stupid hat.”

“Wait, I thought El broke up with him,” Eddie breaks in.

“No, they’re on again,” Steve says absently, shaking his head. “Which is why Max has been in a bad mood lately.”

Eddie bites back the reflexive need to ask “How can you tell?”, going instead with, “I thought she and Sinclair were on again.”

“No, they are. That’s why no one’s been actively murdered,” Steve says.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Eddie asks, squinting at Steve.

“It’s a natural skill. And we’re getting off track,” Steve says quickly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that worried, because Dustin regularly blows his savings on weird science gadgets or whatever, but then Lucas and Will started taking sides.”

“This is getting very involved,” Eddie says.

“So you see why I’m stressed!” Steve insists, smacking a hand to his forehead (personally, Eddie thinks Steve is stressed for many other reasons, but he figures pointing that out just now won’t be appreciated). “Lucas is on Dustin’s side, and that kid does odd jobs like nobody’s goddamn business; he actually has shit saved up. And usually I’d have faith in him being more, like, sensible than to spend it all on this, but the little shit is really fucking competitive.”

“Wonder who he got that from?” Eddie mutters.

“Okay, we do remember that I’m not actually biologically related to any of these idiots, right?” Steve snaps.

“Well now we’re just getting into nature versus nurture–”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry, continue.”

“Well, Will took Mike’s side–”

“Shocking.”

“Right? But anyway, I don’t know if the kid has much saved up, but between him and Wheeler, they might be able to win.” Steve sighs, looking far more world-weary than Eddie feels the situation really warrants.

“You know you don’t actually have to do what they ask you to, right?” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If an auction winner complains to the school that the person they bid on didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain, they can get their money back. It’s a whole…” he waves his hand vaguely, “thing. Happened once when I was a sophomore; Deacon McNab. Lost a good chunk of change for the football team, and they vandalized the shit out of his car.”

“Ah, right. Forgot we went to school with literal psychopaths,” Eddie hums.

“So, I just need you to bid on me and win, so I’m not stuck wasting a Saturday on whatever the hell the kids are going to try to make me do. Or not do. Or– whatever,” Steve says.

“Okay, not that I don’t understand your predicament here, but I think you’re forgetting something kind of important, Steve,” Eddie drawls.

Steve’s brows draw together in question. “What?”

“I’m fucking poor.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t mean– no, I will give you the money, you don’t have to spend a dime, man, I just need you to get me out of this.”

“Why not have Buckley do it?” Eddie asks.

“That was Plan A, but she actually has a date that night, and it’s kind of a big deal, so I don’t want her to cancel,” Steve says. “But I assumed you wouldn’t be busy.”

“Wow, rude,” Eddie scoffs, and Steve sighs.

“Fine, sorry, I just really hoped you wouldn’t be busy.” Steve gives him the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes Eddie has ever seen, as if there had been any chance from the beginning that he’d be able to say no. “Please?”

Just for show, Eddie lets out a long sigh, falling against his chair and letting his head flop over the backrest like he’s deflating.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve groans, sounding so genuinely relieved that Eddie almost feels bad about how quickly his thoughts dip into the realms of the inappropriate. “Oh my god, I owe you.”

Eddie glances back up at Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips almost unconsciously. “You know I’m not as easy to appease as a couple of fifteen-year-olds, right?”

Steve’s eyes drop for just a second—maybe down to Eddie’s lips, maybe not; who can say?—before he looks back up, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “I think I can handle it.”

Slowly, Eddie grins. “We’ll see.”

[steveseddie]

full circle

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss

for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears” 

read on ao3 here

Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.  

Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case. 

“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground. 

“Don’t-” Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.  

Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.” 

Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.” 

(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go. 

He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.

Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)

“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them. 

Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”  

Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?” 

Oh crap. 

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”

Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.” 

They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?” 

“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds. 

“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?” 

“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?” 

Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.” 

“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”

“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” 

“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”

“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.

But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time. 

Well, shit.

“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.

He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.

But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.

“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!” 

He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them. 

“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?” 

Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?” 

Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?

He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on. 

Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.

He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.

“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice. 

Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son. 

Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.

Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly. 

It only grows as they start moving. 

“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness. 

Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.” 

Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.

“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.

As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.” 

Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”

Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.” 

“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”

To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.

“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper. 

“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”

He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence. 

Eddie peeks at him through one eye.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute. 

Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.

“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”

Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself. 

Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.

“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?” 

Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now. 

“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”

“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“With your friends?”

“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”

Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”

“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.” 

Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?” 

Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car. 

It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-” 

“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.” 

Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?

Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them. 

Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s. 

He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does. 

The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him. 

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”

“And how’s that working out for ya?” 

Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”

“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout. 

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.” 

Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.” 

Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-” 

Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business. 

“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.” 

Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?” 

“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.” 

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.” 

Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”

“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.

Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”

“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”

“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly. 

“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”

Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.

It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”

A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”

“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”

Oh. 

An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”

“Who says I want to?” 

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.” 

“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?

Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”

Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-

Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top. 

“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”

Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”

“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”

The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”

“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost. 

“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out. 

Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.” 

“Punch you for-”

The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back. 

It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing. 

(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)

When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else. 

“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”

A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”

“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”

“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”

“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”

“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”

“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”

Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.” 

They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom. 

They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car. 

Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway. 

But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”

“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”

“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin. 

“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”

“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”

“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them. 

“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”

Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”

(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)

(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)

[steddiehyperfixation]

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 

“Steve…” 

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 

Shit. 

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 

Fuck. 

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

(ao3 link)

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-four

324 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three

Tommy rolls his eyes, face slowly turning redder and redder as the lunch period goes on. “Munson needs someone to put him in his fucking place.”

“Dude, why?” Steve asks incredulously. No way Tommy is bothered simply from the - totally wrong - assumption that Eddie is paying him a little attention.

“He has issues, that’s why. Fucking freak has a staring problem.”

Steve had been amused by this misunderstanding up until now. It’s that word, it sobers him up every fucking time without fail, everytime he’s managed to forget that he and Tommy are not the same.

“I’m just saying-”

“And I’m just saying,” Steve cuts him off, “You need to calm down. Jesus.” Steve isn’t sure how the conversation has gotten so far out of his control. He rolls his eyes, trying to make up for the fact that he’s beginning to sweat. “I mean, you don’t have to sit there, Tommy.”

Steve actually planned on taking the seat for himself today, but when he’d finally made his way to the table, it was already claimed.

He’s honestly surprised Tommy hasn’t cracked sooner. He’d lasted longer than Steve would’ve bet on. It’s been, what? Over two weeks since Eddie started looking at their table?

If Steve hadn’t been so invested in working damage control, Eddie surely would have been acquainted with Tommy’s short temper by now - he’s always been quick to anger.

When Tommy’s only reaction is to narrow his eyes and clench his jaw, Steve decides he has to switch tactics. He rises from his seat and makes his way around the table. Grabbing Tommy by the shoulders, Steve urges him up and pushes him to the side, successfully taking his seat. Steve grins up at where Tommy hasn’t moved since Steve had let go of him. “Better? You know I don’t mind a little attention.”

Tommy grumbles as he takes the recently vacated seat, but he thankfully doesn’t bring Eddie up again.

twenty-five

tag list (closed)

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[leverage-ot3]

the found family trope is inherently queer and you can’t change my mind

[raeofgayshine]

Thinking again about the fact that when Eddie and Dustin finally convince Steve to play DnD with the party, all of them, but especially Eddie, quickly become exasperated with Steve who has extremely high charisma, and decides that he can fix almost any situation by flirting with whoever they were in conflict with. Especially the fucking monsters, this man is bound and determined to himself a monster boyfriend and until it happens, he will make every single person they come across fall in love with him. So naturally, this happens a lot:

Steve: I’m going to flirt with them

Eddie, exasperated: Steve, you can’t date this monster, he’s trying to kill you-

Steve: Hot.

Steve: I’ll flirt with them harder then

[jonathanbyersphd]

Sighing in Steve & El have never interacted onscreen together so how exactly is he her big brother

Meanwhile, her ACTUAL big brother performed emergency surgery in a mall food court and drove across 3 states trying to find her

But y'all don't like him.

[apocalyptic-byler]

IF BYLER’S FIRST KISS ISNT LIKE JANCY’S FIRST KISS THEN I DONT WANT IT

[tightjeansjavi]

hey Joseph Quinn girlies (gn) is it a canon event to fall in love with Eddie Munson that your tik tok algorithm starts showing you edits of him, and suddenly your search history on AO3 is Eddie Munson (and steddie) bc I fear that this is a canon event 😩💀

[fruity-cleric]

TADAAA.. Byler Hercules AU 🙏🙏

Mike as Megara cuz hes just as cunty

and Will as Herc ofc

[thelosers-club]

If i just ..

I get the cooler, FUNNIER version

[chirpsythismorning]

My ST5 DNA Board is finally here!

It’s more of a bingo card, featuring over 200 movies that I think have the potential to be used for inspiration in s5, though I know for a fact most won’t make their final board.

I still wanted to have some fun with this because there are so many movies out there with interesting elements that I could totally see play out in the final season.

Now we just wait and hope we’ll get the official one soon (ST day?? 😩)

[qquokkari]

this is so dumb and probably doesn’t make a lot of sense but i’ve been thinking about stranger things a lot for the past few days and i feel like part of the reason a lot of people don’t like mike after s2 is because he’s reacting to trauma in a way they don’t feel is justified.

objectively he hasn’t been through as much as the other party members have because he hasn’t been possessed or Plagued With Visions or turned into a human weapon. he’s the third party to a lot of traumatizing events (which can be, in itself, traumatizing) but everything that directly happens to him doesn’t feel as major as the crazy supernatural things going on. he was bullied as a kid, his parents are dismissive and emotionally absent, and he’s very clearly depressed—he has behavioral issues at school and his grades are slipping, something the counselor cites as being a sign of max’s depression. there’s also a lot of subtext/hints about him having issues with food and body image things.

the problems that directly affect him are all ostensibly very normal in the face of monsters and human experimentation, and his reactions are very normal too. he’s self-isolating, he lashes out at people, he puts himself in danger, he can’t express his emotions in the “right” way. but in a universe where supernatural things are always happening around him, his problems seem insignificant. people don’t like that his behavior and personality changed as a result of trauma and other issues because they don’t think he has earned it.

his problems are too normal, or what traumatized him didn’t directly happen to him (like, his best friend went missing and was believed to be dead and came back and was possessed and mike felt like he was the only one who cared and he was there for it all), so he shouldn’t get to be angry and depressed and emotionally distant. he needs to go through something worse before he’s allowed to show that he’s been affected by the events of his life.

this isn’t all to say that i think he hasn’t been an asshole. rather, i think knowing why he’s been an asshole is necessary for viewing him as a sympathetic character, and a lot of people don’t think he deserves that because his ‘why’ isn’t good enough.

anyway mike wheeler they’ll never make me hate you

[steddiehyperfixation]

how to stay with you (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 29: future, and also inspired by this post i saw ages ago

1474 words | rated t | cw: unhappy ending

When Steve and Eddie first got together, they had been young and in love and that’s all that had mattered. At 19 and 20 the realities of the future seemed so far away, so caught up in each other in each present moment that it almost felt like they would never grow up, like time would never pass and they would never have anything to worry about. Conversations of ‘what ifs’ and potential issues were brushed aside, anything that wasn’t an immediate problem dismissed with a kiss and a carefree “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” There was no need for premature concern when surely nothing would ever be so big as to come between them. Because they were it for each other, weren’t they? They were forever, and forever seemed so easy when forever was young.

But the time did pass and they did grow up, and now the bridges they thought they’d never come to are looming before them, fast approaching.

At 25 and 26, they sit at the dinner table in the one-bedroom apartment they’ve lived in for years and Eddie tells Steve about the life-changing phone call he just received. The Hollywood music producer he’s been in sporadic contact with finally wants to finalize a plan and work with Eddie’s band officially, and Eddie is so excited he’s practically vibrating as he rambles to Steve about the album he’ll make and the tours he might go on and how they’re gonna have to start looking for places in LA soon because they have to be local and the producer wants to get started on this by the end of next month. He expects Steve to be excited too, to match his grin and maybe hold hands and bounce around the kitchen with him, but his boyfriend’s expression only falls further and further into a frown with every word Eddie speaks.

“Eddie-” Steve interrupts him, his voice far too serious. “I don’t want to move to LA.”

Eddie’s buzzing energy freezes, stopping short. “What?”

Steve repeats, “I don’t want to move to LA.”

“But-” Eddie frowns. “I was always going to move to LA, that was always my plan. You knew that.”

“Yeah, I-I know. But we always said we’d just cross that bridge when we came to it.”

“Well, we’re coming to it now. So, why don’t you want to move?”

“I don’t want to uproot our life here. And I don’t want to end up having to wait around in a strange city while you’re off on tours all the time.”

“You wouldn’t, you’d come with me.”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t live like that. And what about when we have kids? That’s no way to-”

“Wait, Steve-” It’s Eddie’s turn to interrupt, all trace of his previous excitement gone, having dropped like a stone into his gut instead. “I don’t want kids. Like, ever.”

Something fractures in Steve’s eyes as he stares at him, almost hurt. “What? Why did you never say anything? You knew- I’ve always wanted kids, Eddie, you’ve always known that.”

“Yeah, I know, I just-” Eddie’s mouth feels too dry and his tongue too heavy as he wets his lips and shrugs guiltily. “I mean, we always said we’d just cr-”

“-cross that bridge when we came to it, yeah,” Steve sighs, a dejected sort of exhale that slouches in his shoulder as if the full weight of this conversation has suddenly settled upon them.

Eddie feels it too, feels them sinking somewhere they can’t come back from. “Is that, uh- is that a dealbreaker for you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Steve admits, and he looks at Eddie like it devastates him to do so, emotion swimming in his eyes and straining his voice. “Is me not wanting to move to LA a dealbreaker for you?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Would you ever change your mind?” Steve asks, a last ditch hope. “About kids, or any of it?”

“No,” Eddie says; though he hates to watch the last of the light drain from Steve’s face, he can’t lie to him. “Would you?”

“No,” Steve answers in a barely managed whisper.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and it shakes. His vision blurs. He says, “Then this isn’t going to work, is it?”

Steve stares at him with glassy eyes, like he’s watching Eddie become a ghost right in front of him. His voice breaks as he speaks, “You mean we’re not going to work.”

“Yeah…” Eddie confirms, and it shatters his heart. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” He reaches for Steve’s hands across the table. “I love you more than anything, I really do, but I won’t give up on my dream, and I can’t ask you to give up on yours either.”

“No you’re right.” Steve breath shudders. His eyes fall to their joined hands and he blinks rapidly, the way he does when he’s trying hard not to cry. He squeezes Eddie’s hands tight, desperate for something to hold on to even as he agrees, “We want different things, incompatible things. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Exactly…I don’t want to hold you back,” Eddie echoes in barely more than a whisper, afraid if he tries to speak any louder he’ll break into tears.

Steve does break then, a sob escaping from his throat as if it’d clawed its way free, tears spilling from his eyes. Such a cry activates an instinct in Eddie that sends him leaping to his feet and pulling Steve into a hug within seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. His chest aches and he really wishes this wasn’t happening, hates that he knows that it has to.

“Me too,” Steve manages, head buried in Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no bitterness in it, only heavy acceptance. He knows it too.

They both know there’s no solving this, no compromise they could find that wouldn’t inevitably fester into resentment and regret. Because Steve wants to settle down and Eddie wants to fly - but Eddie isn’t built for the ground, nor is Steve for the sky, and there’s no common place left between them where they could both survive. It’s over.

So they mourn together while they still have each other to take comfort in, clinging tight to what they’re losing, just one last time. Eddie's crying now too, his tears streaming silently down his cheeks in counterbalance to Steve’s sniffly mumbling.

“I don't want to lose you,” Steve mutters. “Are you sure? Are you sure?”

And Eddie cries quietly into the crook of his neck that he doesn't want to lose him either, and he's sorry, so sorry.

When the worst of their sobs subside, they reach the bargaining stage of their grief, and they pull apart just enough to talk properly while still holding onto each other. Eddie swears he'll keep in touch, says he still wants to be a part of Steve's life. Steve makes him promise to send him postcards of all the amazing places he'll go to on tours and to invite him to shows whenever he's nearby. Eddie tells him to invite him to the wedding when - when, he emphasizes as Steve starts to shake his head - Steve falls in love again and finds someone who can give him the life he wants.

At that, Steve sniffles out a laugh, wet and humorless. “That would be cruel,” he says.

“I never said I’d actually show up,” Eddie clarifies, giving an equally complicated smile and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “I just want to know. I want to know that you're happy, even if it can't be with me.”

Steve closes his eyes - another tear or two leaks out - and turns his face into Eddie's hand. In a whisper, he agrees, “Okay.”

They decide it would be best for Eddie to leave as soon as possible. Since they've already concluded they won't last, there's no reason for them to stay in the same apartment even just one more night. It would only hurt more in the end.

With a sort of dissociated detachment, Eddie packs up his things, separating his life from Steve’s one piece of clothing and decorations at a time. It's all he can do not to start crying again.

As Eddie turns to leave for the last time, Steve grabs his arm, impulsive, desperate, and begs him for one more kiss. So Eddie turns around and indulges him. He tastes the salt of their tears on their lips, clutching at Steve's waist and tangling a hand in his hair as they both kiss each other like they know they never will again. Eddie savors every bitter taste, memorizes every sweet feeling.

And then they’re out of time and Eddie's out the door, his whole future ahead of him and his heart cracked right in half.

[libraryofgage]

SpiderPool Steddie Part 3

Part One | Part Two

Welcome back to Steddie secret identity shenanigans ;)

This part is kinda long, but it's helping set up stuff for future parts lmao

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

It's a beautiful day in the city: the birds are chirping, a nice breeze is blowing the smell of coffee over the streets instead of trash, and there are just enough clouds to create consistent patches of shade as they block the sun.

It's the perfect day for being out and about, the perfect day for Steve to meet Eddie at a coffee shop and flirt his way to lunch as well.

He just wishes Vecna hadn't gotten the fucking memo, too. And, if he had to get the memo, Vecna could have at least had the decency to cause problems in the evening. Seriously, it's just basic manners to not cause chaos and mayhem the same day Steve has a date.

Of course, to make it all worse, Vecna chose to let his demobats attack while Steve was on the way to said date. Not even the 30-minute buffer from leaving his apartment early will help him here, not when he has to knock the demobats out with his nail-bat, keep citizens safe, and not get himself eaten at the same time.

Maybe the worst part, though, is that Steve didn't get the chance to text Eddie that he'd be late before hastily ducking into an alley, haphazardly shoving his clothes into his backpack while tugging his mask over his head, and securely webbing his bag to the underside of a fire escape.

Steve thinks of his phone tucked into his backpack as he sends a demobat flying before it can attack a civilian trying to run away. He waves to the woman, returns the fist bump the toddler in her arms offers, and then dashes to catch up with the main swarm of the demobats. He shoots a web at a streetlamp and tugs sharply, using the momentum to send himself into the air. Once Steve is off the ground, he uses his webs to swing from building to building.

Fighting demobats is always the same routine: aggressively flapping wings, unholy screeching, claws and fangs tearing at Steve's suit as he tries to balance swinging past buildings and swinging his nail-bat. With each swipe of talons across Steve's suit, he tries to think of a plausible explanation he can give Eddie when he finally gets to the coffee shop.

A demobat dives into his face, resulting in a sharp pain across the bridge of his nose, and Steve is trying to figure out if walking into a doorway is a plausible excuse when he hears a familiar voice shout, "Yo, Spidey!"

Steve blinks, completely messes up the timing to web the next building, and suddenly starts to free-fall as demobats continue to swarm around him. He curses under his breath, catching himself on a streetlamp and wincing at the harsh yank to his shoulders.

"Oh, shit, sorry!"

Yep, definitely the person he thought it was. Steve swings off the streetlamp, landing in a crouch in front of Eddie. He spins around as he pops up, swinging at a pair of demobats that dove after him. "Hey, man, you should get outta here. You don't wanna get hurt," he says, glancing over his shoulder to look at Eddie.

Eddie just flashes a grin and shrugs. "I won't get hurt, remember?" he asks, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers. Steve blinks, recalling the super-fast healing of Eddie's hand after he stuck a few nails through it.

"Right," Steve says, frowning slightly under the mask. He hears a shout a few feet away and doesn't think twice before sprinting toward it. There's a group of kids huddled together, trying to use their backpacks to smack away the demobats currently dive-bombing them. None of them look older than twelve, and the worst part is that Steve recognizes one of them as Dustin. He pushes himself to run faster, trying to ignore the guilt he feels at letting the demobats get near Dustin and his friends in the first place.

That guilt is for later when he can curl up under his blanket and try to tell himself that he's just doing his best and he's only one person and...man, being a hero is tough.

Dustin happens to look over as Steve is about to reach them. Despite the situation, he lights up, relief visibly washing over him. "Spider-Man!" he shouts, forgetting about keeping the bats away with his bag long enough to wave erratically like Steve hasn't already seen him.

"Hang tight!" Steve tells him, sliding behind the group and crawling up the side of the building there. He sticks to the side and takes note of the trees on either side of the kids, a vague plan starting to form in his mind. He just needs to get the bats to leave the kids alone long enough for it to work.

Just as Steve is about to throw himself into the fray as bait, he notices Eddie scramble up one of the trees by the kids, scoot out along one of the sturdier branches, and pull the guitar case off his back. He grins at the kids, winking at Dustin before swinging the guitar case like a bat. He's got a much wider range than Steve's nail-bat, and he manages to sweep most of the demobats away in two swings.

Steve sighs with relief; this is much better than the plan he had half-formed in his brain. He jumps off the building and lands next to the group of kids. "Don't just stand there!" he says, gaining their attention as he herds them toward an alley that lets out onto a street that isn't swarming with demobats.

And then, because Steve can't fucking help himself when Dustin walks by, he leans down and whispers, "Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

Dustin blinks. "We get attacked by demobats, and that's the first thing you ask?"

"Don't avoid the question, Henderson. I will tell your mother," Steve hisses, more upset that Dustin encountered danger in the first place.

His tension must be more obvious than he thought because Dustin sighs and raises his hand in surrender. "Geez, fine, we wanted pizza for lunch. But we'll head back now, okay? I'll even text you a picture of the school when we get there," he promises, flashing a grin from the edge of the alley before running to catch up with his friends.

It will have to be good enough. Besides, Steve doesn't exactly have time for arguing; his spider senses start screaming not a second later. He whips around in time to see the demobats attack Eddie and his branch. Steve feels his heart drop into his stomach as he runs back to the trees.

The branch breaks when he's a few feet away, and without thinking, he shoots a web at Eddie and yanks as hard as he can.

Later, Steve will look back on this moment and realize he might, in fact, be just a tiny bit dumb. If he took even a second to review the facts, he'd have realized Eddie 1) wasn't even ten feet off the ground and 2) could heal himself at an exponentially faster rate than Steve.

Steve realizes none of that in the moment, though. So what he gets is Eddie crashing right into him, his guitar case digging painfully into Steve's stomach and his elbow jabbing the side of Steve's neck and his boot just two centimeters from neutering Steve free of charge.

He lands roughly on the concrete, a dull pulse of pain beginning to radiate from his tailbone. Steve winces, groaning as Eddie rolls off him and hurriedly says, "Holy fuck, sorry, Spidey. Are you okay?"

Steve groans again, trying to shake off his disorientation. "Yep, all good, totally fine, quick question," Steve says, taking the hand Eddie offers to help him up, "What the hell were you thinking jumping in like that?"

"That some kids needed saving? I don't know, man, I didn't really think. It's not like they could really hurt me," Eddie replies, shrugging as he glances over at the trees again.

His subsequent frown makes Steve realize that, oh yeah, there are fucking demobats. He tenses and follows Eddie's gaze only to find absolutely nothing there. Steve blinks, wondering if he's hallucinating somehow, and walks over to the trees.

Broken branch? Check. Webs that will dissolve in a few hours? Check. Splatters of demobat blood on the concrete? Check.

The demobats themselves? Nowhere to be fucking seen.

"Where'd they go?" Eddie asks, looking at Steve like he'll somehow know, and Steve has to suppress the urge to reply with something snarky. Snark for the sake of being mean isn't nearly as fun as snark for the sake of banter.

Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Not sure. I'll patrol the area and surrounding blocks," he says, trying to hide how confused he is. It's not like the demobats to fly away before Steve has lowered their numbers by at least half. Something feels wrong, but he has no clue what the actual problem might be.

"Right," Eddie says, sliding a foot back and smiling apologetically at Steve. "Well, I gotta run. Got that coffee date with Stevie. But share all the fun details about your patrol the next time you're on the roof!"

And with that, Eddie rushes off, absolutely clueless that he's about to get a text from Steve apologizing for running so late that at least an hour will pass before he can make it to the coffee shop.

Steve sighs, pushes down the guilt that builds in his stomach for a completely different reason now, and scales the side of a nearby building so he can start swinging through the surrounding blocks.

----

Steve really did spend an hour looking for any sign of the demobats before swinging back to where he stashed his bag. Thankfully, Steve has become an expert at changing into regular clothes in mere seconds. There aren't too many wrinkles in his polo or his jeans, and his high-tops aren't bent, which is even more of a relief.

Once he's changed, Steve swings his bag onto his back and dashes toward the coffee shop. Eddie might have texted back after Steve's first message that he was okay with waiting, but that doesn't mean Steve is going to make him wait any longer than necessary. Plus, he can't shake the anxiety that Eddie might decide Steve isn't worth waiting for and leave.

At least he had plenty of time to come up with a believable lie.

Steve practically rams into the door of the coffee shop, catching himself just in time to yank it open instead. He tries to get control of his breathing, his heart pounding against his chest as he looks around the shop before seeing Eddie waving at him from a corner table, his guitar case slung across the back of his chair.

A wave of relief surges through Steve, and he walks toward Eddie with a grin. "Hey," he says, barely holding back a grimace at how breathy he sounds, "sorry for taking so long."

Eddie waves his hand dismissively before gesturing to the seat across from him. "Don't worry about it, Stevie. Is that--" Eddie gestures once again, this time pointing at Steve's face "--what held you up?"

Steve blinks as he sits, raising a hand to his cheek. He winces slightly at the burst of pain. Right. The demobats had managed to get a few hits in, not to mention Eddie crashing into him at the end. "It's, uh, kind of a funny story, actually," Steve says. He drops his hand to the table, only then noticing the iced coffees in front of him and Eddie. "How long ago did you order?"

"The coffees just got here," Eddie replies, nudging the one in front of Steve toward him once he's sat.

Their fingers brush together when Steve reaches out to take the cup, and he can't help noticing how Eddie's rings are surprisingly warm, like he's been fiddling with them. He also can't help noticing a speck of dried blood at the base of Eddie's thumb. He frowns slightly, forgetting about the drink to gently rub at the spot. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asks.

He misses Eddie's grin but not how Eddie twists his hand so he can grab Steve's, boldly lacing their fingers together. "How about this, sweetheart," he says, leaning forward to prop his chin in his free palm, "You tell that funny story, and I'll tell you about how I heroically helped save a bunch of kids."

Steve already knows about that, though, and he's flustered enough over their hands to almost say it.

Almost.

He stops himself at the last second, grateful that his blush can still be attributed to Eddie, and clears his throat. He picks up his coffee, takes an experimental sip, and relaxes some as vanilla and coffee coat his mouth. "I had to babysit last night and into this morning. One of the single moms on my floor, Carla, had an emergency shift, so I had her toddler, Miguel, until this morning. Carla was running almost an hour late to pick him up, so I started playing with Miguel to keep him occupied. And then he threw one of his Hot Wheels at my face and it cut my nose," he explains, gesturing to the slash across the bridge of his nose.

"Was it at least one of the cool ones?" Eddie asks, amusement obvious in his voice.

Steve snorts. "They're all cool, I'll have you know," he says, shaking their hands and hoping Eddie doesn't notice how sweaty his palm is becoming. "Anyway, Miguel apparently thinks my pain is the funniest thing ever because he starts giggling so hard he falls over. And once he finally stops laughing, he throws more of his Hot Wheels at me!

"So there I am, stuck in a Hot Wheels fight with a toddler and losing, when Carla finally comes to pick him up. She takes one look at the cuts on my face and immediately starts apologizing and trying to convince me Vix will somehow make them heal faster while trying to shove like three twenty-dollar bills into my pocket, even though I'd already told her she didn't need to pay me."

Eddie's grin widens, and he leans in closer, the ends of his hair brushing against the table. Steve has to fight the urge to tuck the strands behind Eddie's ear, which he does by taking another sip of his coffee. "What, did Carla somehow cop a feel?" Eddie asks, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve barks out a laugh, almost choking on his coffee. "She almost did," he admits, "but she managed to get the money in my pocket first. I slipped it back, of course."

"Of course," Eddie says, nodding once.

"Anyway, I finally get them to go, but then they keep coming back because Miguel keeps realizing he left one of his Hot Wheels behind. Between finding, like, 30 Hot Wheels and trying to get ready to meet you and Carla being chismosa, as she calls it, I didn't manage to leave my apartment for another hour and a half."

Eddie hums softly, his smile having gotten soft while Steve was talking. "You know, I had a feeling you were good with kids," he says, and the statement would have caught Steve off-guard if he hadn't already heard it from behind his mask earlier.

"What gave you that idea?" he asks.

"Just something about you."

Steve finds himself wondering what, exactly, about him gives off that vibe, but he doesn't ask for now. "What about you?" he asks like he doesn't already know, "What's this heroic story?"

Eddie practically lights up, and Steve wonders how long he's been crafting the perfect retelling of the story in his head. "Well, first of all, how do you feel about Spider-Man?" Eddie asks.

"Uh, he's cool, I guess," Steve says, a little thrown by the sudden question. Though, when he thinks about the story Eddie is about to tell, the question does make sense. "He does a lot for the city, and his web shooters are really cool, but I don't follow him super closely."

"Well, yours truly helped Spider-Man save a group of kids from a demobat attack today," Eddie says, his chest puffing out slightly and his expression practically begging for Steve to look impressed.

And the image is so endearing that Steve can't help playing along. He widens his eyes, perks up a little in his seat, and says, "Seriously?! Wasn't that, like, dangerous?"

"Danger is my middle name, Stevie. I mean, it kinda comes with the whole heavy metal thing," Eddie explains, winking at Steve.

Steve raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, you should definitely explain that next, but what about Spider-Man?" he asks.

That gets Eddie back on track, and Steve finds himself relaxing as Eddie talks. He plays along to the story, gasping in the appropriate places, looking awed when Eddie tells him about beating away the demobats with his guitar case, and laughing when Eddie plays up the comedy of crashing into Spider-Man.

And it's easy once Steve stops overthinking. Being with Eddie, laughing at his jokes and flirting back and holding his hand the whole time is wonderfully, blissfully, incredibly easy.

He could get used to this.

----

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@soaringornithopter, @suikatto, @murdblurdock, @starman-jpg, @somegirlsomewhere, @heaven428, @vacantwatchers, @sidebarre, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @imjust-that-shy, @spookednsaucy, @7shrewsinatrenchcoat, @fanshipper4ever, @amrice, @spectrum-spectre,

[markscherz]

If you were to find and describe more species belonging to the genus mini, would their names also be built like that? Do you have ideas for that or would that come to you when finding a new species and you'd be like "ah yes this seems like a Mini Van" or something?

If it were me in charge, then yes, absolutely they would be more puns.

I am intentionally mum on the topic of what a future potential species would be named. But if someone at BMW wants to sponsor my research in exchange for a species being named after the Mini Cooper, I would sell out in a heartbeat.