#i promise it ends steddie

[formosusiniquis]

Argyle as Steve's bi realization, hear me out.

Steve is used to a certain amount of confusing feelings for people after a lot of close contact, high stress apocalypse stopping. There was the first time with Nancy (and wow Jonathan is actually a pretty cool dude, if he changed his hair a little, maybe stopped taking creep pictures in the woods he could be a really fun to hangout with).

And then there was the second time, and that hurt a little bit more cause Nancy is still just as great. Even when she's moving straight on to Jonathan, who really is just a great dude he's really come into his own and he's got kind eyes even if they are staring at Nancy all the time. It's probably just the residual heartache. Some weird things getting tied up with the only two not children that know about monsters too.

But then there's the third time with Robin. And Steve finally thinks he's figured out what's going on. It's like when you take a girl to a horror movie on the first date, only times a million. Your heart rate is up and your adrenaline is through the roof. Of course he's imprinted on any age appropriate person he's near. He probably did love Nancy, Robin is definitely the platonic love of his life, and that definitely explains all the weird feelings he still sometimes has when he's around Jon for too long. It's all just crossed wires in his traumatized, concussed brain.

By the fourth go around he's got it all figured out. Sure, Eddie is objectively, pretty attractive. Sure, he's great with kids which is like Steve's number one desirable trait he looks for. He's funny, he's got a great smile, he's constantly in Steve's space. But the swoopy feeling in his stomach, the dizzy light headedness. That's all adrenaline and blood loss. Robin isn't an option, he's already done this too many times with Nancy, his brain has found the default all that's left is Eddie Munson. But wow, big boy, that one is… something.

So when all is said and done; and Eddie has claimed to see angels and they all look like Steve Harrington -- he does giggle a little at that, feels the strange urge to kick his feet or twirl his hair. But he's just excited that he's got a new age appropriate friend and that they all made it out mostly unscathed. Any and all blush inducing thoughts and feelings can be easily explained away by the waning stress of a traumatic event and the lingering joy that fuck they really did make it out this time.

But then in the quiet, as the dust settles and they all do their best to find normal again. Jonathan has brought Argyle home to Hawkins.

Argyle who has the nicest hair Steve has ever seen. Whose first words to him are, "Dude, that is a righteous mane you're rocking, do you use oils in your routine cause I really think they'd take you to the next level." Argyle, who manages to convince Dustin 'picky eater' Henderson to try fruit on his pizza. Argyle, who made the best brownies Steve has ever eaten and helped him get high for the first time in nearly a year.

There's no adrenaline to blame this time, no lingering apocalypse.

"Robin, I need to talk to you."

He pulls her away from the rest of the older teen party as quick as he can. Nervous and confused and panicked and excited. For once in their friendship she lets herself be tugged along without complaint, understanding instinctively that this is about to be a bathroom conversation.

"You know how Vickie likes both, guys and girls."

"We do not know that, but I remember your theory."

"Well, she definitely does and I'm pretty sure I do too."

"Oh my god, Steve," she stretches his name out until it echoes, "really, I'm so proud of you. That's so great, wait , who was it? How'd you realize? Oh my gosh was it-"

"-Eddie." "Argyle." they say the names in sync.

"Argyle?" "Eddie?" In sync again even their confusion matches.

"Oh God, Eddie," and with a, mostly, clear head things do start making more sense. Eddie, who is co-parenting the kids with him. Eddie, who always makes sure Steve doesn't neglect his own needs in favor of the rest of the group. Eddie, who watched Steve and Lucas play a pickup game last weekend even though he clearly didn’t get the rules past ball in basket. Eddie, who has been reading Lord of the Rings to him over the phone when the nightmares keep them both awake and they can feel razored teeth and barbed tails clawing at their skin. Eddie, who still hasn't gotten his vest back because the thought of losing it makes something hot and tight clench in Steve's chest. "Robin, Eddie!"

Robin, for her part looks relieved, "Thank God, I did not know how to tell you that I'm pretty sure that Argyle was gonna be another partner Jonathan beat you out for."

And with that name comes another realization, "Oh my god, Robin I had a thing for Byers." He can see the laughter threatening to break through and as the giggles start he actually processes what she said, "wait, Jon and Argyle, really?"

She pushes down her laughter, "Yeah, pretty sure the two of them and Nancy are having a little ménage à trois, if you get my meaning."

"Yeah that French I do know."

Robin let's them sit on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, processing and just sharing each other's company. She let's Steve find just a moments peace before she says, "You know this means you've had a thing for everyone in that room, right?"

He lets her guide him into laughing, just like they laughed together in the Starcourt bathroom. It's easier than getting embarrassed. And anyway she's right, as always, and that feels like a crisis for after he's figured out what to do about his new Eddie problem.

[solarmorrigan]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

[rebelspykatie]

Part 2

Part 1

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.

“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”

“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.

“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”

“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.

“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”

“Are you going to trap me here?”

“Answer the question.”

“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”

“Steve, you’re not stupid.”

“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”

Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.

He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.

They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.

It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.

To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.

And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.

“Steve-”

“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”

With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.

And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.

But it haunts him.

If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.

But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.

And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.

He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.

Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.

And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie are the kind of couple that never does couples Halloween costumes.

Eddie cares far too much about Halloween and spends most of the year planning and haunting thrift stores around town waiting for the perfect piece of that year's costume to appear. He's going to be bloody and spooky and probably incredibly niche and nothing, not even his incredibly hot boyfriend, is going to change his Halloween rituals.

Steve on the other hand has never put too much thought in his costumes. For him, Halloween has always been more about the parties and while the dressing up is fun he usually just throws something together from his closet at the last minute. It isn't until Robin comes along that things change. She starts making him do yearly couples costumes with her, but they're always either the silly, cheap ones from Spirit Halloween or niche in the opposite direction of Eddie's choices.

After their first Halloween together they decide to do a costume reveal every year like a bride/groom reveal. They go about their Halloween traditions as usual but try to keep any shopping or conversations about the topic a secret. Both of them try and figure out what the other had planned but they're both very dedicated to the bit and hide their shit well. Robin, of course, is also in on it since she's conceiving most of Steve's costumes and tries to come up with something either extremely slutty or extremely goofy to fuck with Eddie.

Whatever gross make-out session she has to witness is worth it for the picture she gets of bloody Edward Scissor Hands stealing a sip out of Sparkly Slutty Ketchup Steve's solo cup at the end of the night.

[unclewaynemunson]

Something nameless is growing between Steve and Eddie. Steve wonders how long it'll take until this thing has a name, but for now, it's enough that it's just something. Something good. Something just for them. A secret of the most delicious kind.

He doesn't necessarily want to lie to Dustin, of course, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Not as long as this thing between him and Eddie is still nameless and Dustin is basically cornering him in the Hawkins High parking lot, way too enthusiastic about the fact that he's there to pick up Nancy.

'No, it's not a date, you little shrimp,' he repeats for what feels like the millionth time. And that statement couldn't be more true: he and Nancy are long past their weird post-breakup-end-of-the-world confusion. It's been good to reconnect with her and he's glad that they can truly be good friends, now.

Dustin shoots him an unimpressed glare and Steve groans in frustration when the boy opens his mouth to retort.

'I'm actually seeing someone else,' he says before Dustin can speak again. If he has to hear him say one more time that he should date either Nancy or Robin, he might actually punch him in the face. And he doesn't want to do that. Not really.

Dustin gasps.

'Why didn't you tell me?!'

'Because you're being annoying as shit about my love life,' Steve shoots back.

Dustin already opens his mouth for some smartass reply, but they get interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Steve whips his head only to find Eddie dramatically running towards them, limbs flailing and a huge grin on his face.

'Stevie!' he shouts out while crashing into Steve like a cannonball. Steve huffs, but is all too happy to catch him in his arms. He knows he shouldn't let his touch linger too long, not with Dustin right there, but it's really fucking difficult to pull back within an appropriate timeframe.

'What are you doing here?' Eddie looks hopeful, like he's suspecting that Steve came to the school for him.

'I'm meeting Nancy,' he admits, feeling almost guilty about it.

'He was just telling me about this girl he's seeing!' Dustin exclaims. 'Can you believe he didn't tell me? Did you know about this, Eddie?'

Eddie's smile falls off his face within a split second, and he takes a stumbling step backwards.

'You're seeing a girl?' His voice has gone cold. Betrayal shines from his big brown eyes.

'Eddie,' Steve starts, but he doesn't know what else to say – not with Dustin standing right there and hearing every word of their conversation.

'Go fuck yourself, Harrington.' He spits the words out and turns around, leaving Steve frozen and Dustin open-mouthed.

'Eddie, wait!' Steve calls out behind him, but Eddie only throws his arm up to flip him off, without looking back.

'Shit, fuck, damnit,' Steve mumbles under his breath as he runs after Eddie.

'Eddie, listen.' He grabs his leather-clad arm, but Eddie breaks himself free from Steve's grip with force. He finally looks at Steve again, tears in his eyes.

'I don't wanna hear it,' he says with a trembling voice as he reaches his van and climbs inside.

'But Dustin was–'

'Dustin was pretty damn clear.'

'No, it's all a –'

But Eddie slams the door shut while the word misunderstanding dies on Steve's tongue unheard. Steve watches helplessly how Eddie roughly wipes a hand over his face, puts his keys in the ignition as if he's stabbing someone, and drives off.

'Steve, what the fuck,' Dustin's voice says; when Steve looks to his right, he sees that Dustin has appeared next to him. 'He thought you were his friend! Why didn't you tell him about your girl?' It sounds accusatory, and Steve can't fucking deal with this right now.

'Why didn't you shut your goddamned big mouth for once in your life?' he snaps at him.

Dustin's eyes go wide with the surprise of Steve talking to him with that much venom in his voice; it's clear that he finally realizes he did something wrong.

'Steve, I – I didn't mean to – I didn't know he'd get mad!'

Steve sighs, long and heavy.

'Go home, Henderson,' he says stiffly.

He wishes that the genuinely apologetic look on Dustin's face would be enough to make it all good, but it isn't. Not as long as he still has the look in Eddie's eyes when he drove away burnt on his retina.

'I'm sorry, Steve.' And with slumped shoulders, Dustin turns around and trudges towards the bike racks.

Update: you can read pt2 here

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1 pt. 3

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:��･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part two)

(part one)

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 

He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.

Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 

Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 

“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”

“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 

So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 

“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 

Steve asks, “How much time?” 

The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 

Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.

“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  

Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 

He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 

Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 

“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 

“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 

“And us,” Erica adds as well. 

Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 

“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 

Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 

He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.

“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 

“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 

“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”

“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 

Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 

She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 

“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 

“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 

She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 

“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 

“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.

Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”

Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”

“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”

“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 

“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.

It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 

“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 

Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 

~ 

The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 

“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 

“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 

“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 

The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 

“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.

The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 

“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”

“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 

“So you guys joined the club, then?” 

This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.

At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 

“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 

Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 

“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 

Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 

Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 

“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 

“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 

And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.

(part three!)

taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

A continuation of Bad News First, Eddie. I am absolutely floored by the responses I received, and I will try my best to tag everyone who asked. I know it's not Eddie's part, but chronologically, Wayne's part felt right.

-

Of all the things Wayne’s been called, unobservant isn’t one of them. He’s lived in Hawkins his entire life. He knows who is who, what is what, and to keep his head down and believe there’s a cougar in the woods when he’s told.

So, when Nancy Wheeler shows up, asking questions, Wayne has answers. Is willing to give those answers because he remembers when little Will Byers went missing, and how Nancy and her friends had done more to try and find him than the entire police force of Hawkins. Nancy and her friends always seemed to be in the orbit of whatever terrible thing was happening in Hawkins these last few years.

So, foolishly, terribly, he doesn’t intervene. He thought they were like that Scooby Doo cartoon Eddie used to love; kids solving mysteries. If he’d known the true extent of the horror, he wouldn’t have let those kids go it alone. But he didn’t know then.

-

Still didn’t know the day he pretends to not know who Dustin Henderson is while swapping out Eddie’s missing poster. It’s easier than having to face someone who knows Eddie, someone who had been looking for him but failed to find him.

Until Dustin calls after him. Until Dustin speaks to him. Hands him Eddie’s necklace. Wayne can’t stand anymore, this breaks him. Dustin says he was with him, in the end. Calls Eddie a hero, said people would have loved him had they known him. It’s nothing Wayne doesn’t already know.

Eddie is his hero. He loves Eddie. And if he’d stepped in sooner, chased down these kids and asked just what the fuck was happening, maybe he could have changed the ending of this story.

-

Hawkins explodes into a hellscape days later and Wayne sets out to find Nancy Wheeler. If Eddie gave his life to protect these kids, then Wayne must strive to do no less.

Nancy’s got a good head on her shoulders, willing to accept any help offered. He can see how she’s survived this long. She gets in in touch with Hopper, who introduces him to Doctor Sam Owens and Lt Colonel Jack Sullivan.

-

He doesn’t think it’s fair that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old girl.

-

It’s Dustin who tells him the whole story, the night before the end. Either Eleven will win tomorrow, or she won’t, but the outcome gets decided then.

“I’m s-so sorry, Mr. M-Munson. We just… just left him there!” Dustin breaks down crying and Wayne reaches out to him, an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. If Wayne sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him?

“Doctor Owens, a word,” Wayne pulls the man aside after the kids have gone to bed. “Dustin said… my boy is just yards away from our trailer. He didn’t even get out of the park. I understand it’s an all hands on deck situation, but can anyone be spared? Can anyone bring my boy back? I’ll go myself if I have to.”

Doctor Owens, a genuinely kind man, Wayne can tell, has tears filling his eyes just at the request. “Mr. Munson, we will do everything in our power to bring your boy home.”

-

Doctor Owens pays for the headstone. Said it was the least he could do since his team failed. Wayne tries not to be bitter about it.

The graffiti starts up almost immediately. Wayne doesn’t understand why.

-

He thinks he’s caught someone in the act, grabs roughly at the perpetrator and yanks. The Harrington boy stumbles up and back, a little bit of fear in his eyes but no paint in hand. He’s holding a rag and small container of paint thinner. A quick look between Harrington and the grave, he can see the half-cleaned headstone.

He’s never spoken much with Harrington, but Dustin has nothing bad to say.

“You know my boy?” because he can’t bring himself to say ‘knew’ just yet.

Harrington looks just about as haunted as Wayne feels when he says, so quietly, “Not as well as I would have liked, sir.”

-

Wayne is observant, but even he can admit it takes longer than he thought to figure out Steve Harrington. That boy had put himself between those kids and danger again, and again, and again, and lived. Eddie did it once and… well, Wayne reckons Steve thinks it should have been him. He won’t say so out loud, but Wayne sees a lot of his younger self in Steve, knows him in much the same way he knows himself.

Steve lives with a guilt he shouldn’t; this was Eddie’s choice. His reckless, dangerous, courageous choice. And they’ve got to learn to live with it. Steve’s parents are absent, and Wayne’s nephew is gone. Without any conscious decision about it, they’ve adopted each other.

Steve wants to know everything about Eddie. Every little story Wayne can come up with. And he, well, he loves that someone wants to know. Wants to remember Eddie with him.

“Bad news. I regret not knowing him sooner,” Steve confesses to him one day as they scrub the headstone clean again.

“Good news. You know him now,” Wayne replies.

“Do I?”

Wayne can’t answer that. Not honestly one way or another. How well can you know someone from secondhand information? Steve spent a total of five days in his nephew’s company but he helps keep his memory alive. “I don’t know. What I do know is that Eddie Munson won’t be forgotten when I die. And that matters.”

-

He gets in an accident at the plant. He doesn’t remember what happened, not fully, but he knows that Steve never left his side. Demanded his come stay in his big empty house. Easier to move around in, with all the open space.

Wayne wasn’t really attached to his apartment anyway. If he was going to live the rest of his life in a home that had never known Eddie’s presence, it could at least be with someone who had known Eddie’s presence, however briefly.

-

Wayne wonders if he’s done the right thing sometimes. Indulging Steve’s need to know Eddie. At first, he thought it was fine, because learning about Eddie seemed to alleviate Steve’s guilt. But now.

He’s watching the boy fall in love with a ghost.

Helping it happen, even.

Robin and Steve aren’t nearly as quiet or subtle as they think, and Wayne’s observant. They seem to forget that Wayne’s just old, and not deaf and blind.

Or maybe, they’re comfortable enough that they don’t truly hide from him.

And it hurts his heart to think this (because he’s thinking it about his Eddie, wonderful, loving Eddie) but Steve deserves to love more than a ghost.

-

And then the kids graduate. Start to go to college. Steve acts fine, but he’s not. Wayne knows. It’s like he’s losing his purpose, but Wayne’s just as broken. Not strong enough to push Steve away. To make Steve go, too.

Honestly, he’s a little afraid that if he tried, then Steve would follow right after Eddie.

So, he doesn't. He decides he needs Steve, and perhaps even more so, Steve needs him.

-

Then, five years after Eddie’s death, the call happens. It’s about his piece of shit little brother, Wyatt. He’s gotta go, though. Because this is one last strand of Eddie. Eddie’s mother has been gone longer than Eddie, and fuck, Wyatt deserves to know. Wayne doesn’t claim to be a saint; if his brother wasn’t being released, he’d probably never tell him. He’d let him die in that prison believing his son is alive.

He doesn’t even know if Wyatt will care that Eddie’s gone. But he’s got to find out.

Steve drives him to the airport and no matter how many times Wayne says he’s coming back, Steve doesn’t seem to believe him.

-

But it’s not his shitty little brother waiting to greet him in Tennessee. It’s Eleven.

“Sorry for the lie, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I learned but Doctor Owens said that, this one time, we needed to be right before we could be honest.”

It’s Eddie. It’s Eddie Wyatt Munson, who looks at him shyly, almost as if afraid, from the apartment doorway Eleven takes him to. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

It’s five fucking years too late but he pulls Eddie in a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

-

Wayne learns.

They had found him, barely alive. It was better, they said, to take him away. Let the town cool down while Eddie healed, but he was catatonic for the better part of these last five years.

“Eddie woke up empty,” Eleven says softly, apropos nothing sitting next to Wayne as they watch Eddie discuss next steps with Owens. “He could be told to do things. Drink this. Eat that. His eyes never focused on anything. Doctor Owens called him a shell. I asked what that means. He said that Eddie’s body worked, but his mind did not because Eddie was not in his own mind anymore. But I knew he was in there. I had to get him back.” She reaches a hand out, waving in the general direction of Eddie’s head.

This surprises Wayne. “You brought him back?”

“Memory by memory,” Eleven says, picking at her pants leg. “Even the painful ones. Doctor Owens says every memory shapes who we are, even tough ones.”

Wayne looks at Eleven, a young woman of nineteen now, but remembers how scared and brave she’d been at fourteen.  “Words cannot express how thankful I am for you.”

“I did it for you. And maybe a little bit for me.”

Wayne makes a humming noise. Not truly questioning, but an acknowledgment of what she said. If she wants to share her reasons, he won’t stop her. He’s just not going to pry.

“I chose my friend. I chose Max.”

He knows. “You made the right choice.”

“I know. I am not guilty about it,” she frowns as she thinks about her words. “But Dustin is my friend, too, and I knew Eddie was his friend. But I cared more about Max. I had to do all I could to make it right. For you. For Dustin. For me.”

Wayne doesn’t have words, so he just pulls Eleven into a hug. It must convey all he needs because when she pulls back, she beams at him.

-

Wayne fills Eddie in on what has happened as best he can. It’s such a jarring difference, speaking to Eddie about Steve than it had been speaking to Steve about Eddie. Eddie just looks confused for most of it and doesn’t really ask followup questions, but Wayne understands. Eddie had known Steve for five days and he’s got time to really get to know Steve now. Steve thought all he’d ever have of Eddie is someone else’s memories.

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie breaths out, all wonder and awe and- Well, maybe Wayne isn’t as observant as he had always thought. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie stutters over his words, eyes wide and wild. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles and lies, as if he hadn’t just watched all the pieces slot together in this moment.

“So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington?” Eddie is blushing but he blows past Wayne’s question. “Will he… be okay with me being there?”

Steve’s been loving a ghost, is what Wayne thinks. Steve’s been in love with a ghost and this. This is a ghost story that can have a better ending. But he’s not going to make those declarations for Steve, so what he says is, “yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all.”

Eddie smiles to himself, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind.

If he hadn’t just figured it out two minutes ago, that would have been a dead giveaway that his boy might be a little bit in love with Steve.

-

He calls Steve. Tells him he’s coming home and bringing a guest. Steve says that’s fine, he’ll fix up Robin’s old room into a guest room.

-

“This isn’t the way to the Harrington house,” Eddie observes from the passenger seat of the rental car Doctor Owens had paid for, to get them from Indianapolis back to Hawkins.

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed.”

“The cemetery?”

Wayne shrugs, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once. Ah. See, there he is.” Wayne points and Eddie’s eyes follow.

Something akin to wonder passes over Eddie’s face and he all but falls out of the car before it’s even stopped.

Wayne thinks he’ll give them five or so minutes before following.

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable. Eddie had understood when Steve told him about Robin's agent and how it was helpful if there were at least rumors of the two dating even though it couldn't be farther from the truth. While they hadn't been super public with their relationship fans of both Steve and Eddie speculated in comments to pictures and stories the two posted but the boys never confirmed anything other than a few cheeky hearts here and there.

Steve had learned about Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Steve hung back in the wings but became enamored with the man from afar. Later when they found themselves at the same 30 under 30 event Robin all but pushed Steve into Eddie to force him to finally talk to him. They pretty quickly fell into the rhythm of exclusivity and from there it was a short road to boyfriends.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

part four

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

(if you saw this version earlier when i forgot how i had these two fools meet, no you didn't)

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Eddie picks where they go Wednesday night, since they’re in his city, after all. He insists upon picking Steve up from the hotel, too, since it’s on the way to the Mockingbird from his place.

When he walks into the hotel, Steve is sitting on a sofa in the lobby, waiting for him. They smile at one another and Steve meets him halfway across the room.

“Hey,” Steve greets, biting at his lip and looking over Eddie. “You look nice.”

“You, too.” Eddie says, softly, reaching out to trail his fingers along the soft threading of the cardigan before hooking his arm under Steve’s. “Did you scope out the menu to see if you like anything?”

“I did. The Mockingbird is actually one of the places that popped up when I was trying to find a decent place for us to go tonight, but I wasn’t sure if it would be too hipster-y for you.” Steve admits as they walk out to Eddie’s Jeep.

“It’s a little on the hipster side, but it’s in a really cool part of the city. And it’s close enough to walk to part two of our date.” Eddie grins, opening the passenger door for Steve, who raises his eyebrows and grins.

“Already can’t enough enough of me, huh?” He teases, then waits until they’re both settled and moving out of the parking to follow up. “How is there already a part two when part one hasn’t happened yet?”

“Because while you may not have been paying attention, we’ve gotten really good at this whole ‘grabbing food and drinks’ together thing. So we’ve got to throw a little spice in to make it different.” Eddie says, glancing at Steve and sending him a wink before his eyes divert back to the road.

The ride gives Steve a moment to take everything in. Eddie’s leather jacket, gray button up and signature black jeans. The Jeep, which occurs to Steve is not a rental and is his personal, everyday use car, has a lot of personality. An opal charm hangs from around the rear view mirror, there’s a few guitar picks in the cup holders and a binder of CDs occupies the bin in the passenger door.

“Am I passing the inspection?” Eddie asks after a few street lights, a small smile on his face as Steve flushes. 

“I’m not inspecting anything, I’m just. Curious,” He admits, makes a show of looking around before looking back at Eddie and teasing, “it’s a lot cleaner than I expected for your car.” 

Eddie laughs out loud at that, shakes his head, and bites his lip before answering. “Jeff gave me shit about cleaning it out before you got in, but it wasn’t that much worse than this. I basically cleaned receipts and straw wrappers out the cup holders.” He explains, and both of them relax as Steve reaches over to rub at Eddie’s arm closest to him.

They’re in deep conversation across the table from one another as their meal arrives, and it feels exactly like every other time they’ve been out for dinner except that it’s not, somehow, and Steve can’t think of how to explain that it’s weird without being weird at all. Eddie’s all hand-gestures and wide eyes and grins as he explains what it’s been like recording the band’s newest music, and Steve gets lost in the other’s excitement. It’s easy to do, and it’s a place Steve doesn’t mind finding himself. Eddie is music; his laugh, a melody. While Steve’s decidedly not the musician among them, he makes his best efforts to keep the performance alive.

The conversation shifts to how Steve’s feeling, riding the high of his return to the ice. It’s still strange for him to think about, really, so he doesn’t have much to contribute other than that he’s processing.

“And I should thank you, by the way,” Steve says, reaching over the table to settle his hand over Eddie’s, thumb brushing over his knuckles softly. “I figure it’s your reaction that got everyone on their feet. Can’t say I’ll ever experience anything like that ever again, so. Thank you.”

Eddie flushes, bites at his lip and turns his hand over under Steve’s to wrap fingers gently around his wrist. “I think it had everything to do with you. I’m just happy you were able to get back to doing what you love.”

That warmth returns to Steve’s chest, and he squeezes Eddie’s wrist back, but decides they have to change the topic or he’ll either get too sentimental for a first date or teary; neither of which he’s hoping for tonight.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” He asks once their plates have been cleared away and the meal paid for. “I believe you mentioned a part two?”

Eddie grins and raises his eyebrow across the table.

“How do you feel about arcade games?”

~~~

“This is so much more than just arcade games, Eddie.” Steve laughs as they walk into a black brick building. It obviously used to be some kind of warehouse but it had been transformed into a massive barcade, with vintage games and pinball machines, indoor bocce ball courts, and even a bowling alley… and that’s just what Steve could see from the front door.

“Too much? We can just go mini-golfing, that’s right around the corner, too.” Eddie offers, looking sheepish. Steve wraps his arm through Eddie’s, pulling him closer as they walk further inside.

“If you think I’m not going to kick your ass at bowling, you’ve got another thing coming.” He teases, grinning wide when Eddie laughs and leads the way to get them shoes and a lane to play in. 

What Steve doesn’t expect, however, is for Eddie to bowl extraordinarily well.

“I feel like I’ve been manipulated into something here,” Steve accuses playfully, kicking a foot in Eddie’s direction without any real intent as the other scored another perfect strike.

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Stevie.” Eddie teases, sipping from his drink before he shrugs. “For example, bet you didn’t know that I was on the Hawkins High Bowling Team in 2008.”

“Hawkins had a bowling team?” Steve asks, honestly surprised, earning a bark of a laugh from Eddie. 

“Roane County Champs that year.” Eddie flops into his seat and gestures for Steve to take his turn. He manages a spare, and turns back to Eddie full of new curiosities.

“Just 2008? You were what, a freshman? That’s the only year you played?” He rapid fires through too many questions, unable to keep them inside himself. But Eddie just smiles, seemingly unfazed by the interrogation he’d brought on himself.

“I was a freshman, yeah.” Eddie nods, also racking up a spare before leaning over the score keeper to get a little closer to Steve while maintaining a safe amount of space between them. “Wayne thought it’d be good for me to join a sports team. Make friends. Wasn’t super athletic, and the alley in town had discount Tuesdays, so it was cheap to practice. Joined up, helped win the title. Then Principal Higgins rolled out a participation fee, and we couldn’t afford it anymore. Thus ended Eddie Munson’s athletic career.”

Steve listens intently, considering how different their worlds truly had been. No expense had been spared to make sure Steve had every opportunity available to him in the hockey world, not while he was young. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like if a participation fee had kept him from the hockey team. And here Eddie was, still weirdly good at bowling, having accepted that it was something he’d have to give up.

“I dunno, man, you’re pretty athletic. I’ve seen you jump and run around on stage, remember? I think that’s way more of a workout than my practices or games.” Steve counters, reaching over the score table to trace his fingers over Eddie’s tattooed forearms. The other just narrows his eyes a bit, before giving Steve a soft smile.

“You’re worrying about me missing out on something with bowling, aren’t you?” Eddie asks, reading Steve like a book, but doesn't wait for an answer before hooking his hand under Steve’s elbow to hold him close. “It wasn’t a dream I missed out on, you’re not looking at a would-be pro-bowler or anything. I was okay, and it was a way to pass the time after everything with my parents went down. I ended up using the half of the participation fee Wayne was able to save up to buy my first electric guitar, so. I think it all worked out as it was supposed to.” Eddie explains, and Steve felt a little lighter knowing the other’s perspective.

~~~

“Next time you’re in Nashville, we’ll go to Pins for Duckpin Bowling. Maybe I’ll have less of an advantage.” Eddie teases, then barks out a laugh as Steve grunts loudly.

“You’re eating this up, but I kicked your ass at skee ball and Mortal Combat.” Steve pokes his index finger into the center of Eddie’s chest, glaring at him through a smile.

“Not that you were counting.” Eddie teases, barking out a laugh when Steve rolls his eyes.

Once they’re out of the bar, where the crowd is growing by the moment, Eddie takes a chance and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist. Without a breath of hesitation, Steve leans into Eddie’s body. Eddie’s almost surprised to feel the weight and warmth of a hand at his own waist as Steve returns the gesture, and he can’t help but bite back a smile.

“I’m glad you’re planning on next time already,” Steve eventually says, and while it’s almost certainly meant to be teasing, it sounds soft and sincere.

“You planning on getting rid of me already?” Eddie asks, and finds his own voice to have the same tone. Steve tips his head to the side, meeting Eddie’s eye, before he smiles and shakes his head. 

“Not quite yet, no.” He whispers, then rests his head against Eddie’s arm, gives his waist a soft squeeze and Eddie feels himself float away, impossibly more gone for the man pressed against his side.

Over the ride back to the hotel, Steve and Eddie talk about what their schedules look like for the next few weeks. The Blackhawks have a slim chance at making a Wild Card appearance in the playoffs, which leaves a lot of uncertainty in Steve’s schedule. Eddie, however, is a clean slate until tour rehearsals start in early May. They make preliminary plans for Eddie to head out to the next round of home games in Chicago toward the end of next week, both eager to see one another again as soon as possible.

But then Eddie’s pulling into the hotel parking lot and he stops in the car port, giving Steve a little smile.

“I hate that tonight’s over.” He admits, quietly. Steve smiles back, reaching across the center console to brush a strand of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, out of his face.

“I hate that tonight’s over, too,” Steve says, softly, biting at his lip. “You have no idea how much I wish I didn’t have to fly out tomorrow afternoon. I feel like we just got here.”

Eddie reaches up to hold Steve’s hand by his face, lacing their fingers together. “Well, now you get to get me out on a date in Chicago next week.” 

“You bet your ass I’m doing that,” Steve mumbles back, before he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Got big shoes to fill, this was a pretty perfect first date.”

Eddie fights the blush threatening to fill out his cheeks as best as he can, in favor of pulling Steve’s hand in and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Good night, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, and Steve smiles back, returns the goodbye, then climbs out of the car and waves as he makes his way into the hotel lobby.

Once he gets home, Eddie fires off a text to Steve to let him know he’s home safe, then hops into the shower. As soon as he’s clean and mostly dry, he collapses into bed, grinning a little too wide, and falls asleep pretty quickly.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to his phone buzzing under his pillow. He answers without looking at it, and grumbles rather than offering a greeting.

“Uh, Eddie?”

It’s Steve’s voice that has him fishing the phone out, looking at the screen to find Steve looking back at him, amused. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks around a grin.

“Shut up,” Eddie huffs out a laugh, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand before physically rolling himself out of bed and taking his phone with him. “What time is it? I thought you were supposed to be flying out today.”

“I am. That’s not for a few hours, though. I wanted to call and say hello.” Steve explains, and Eddie stretches to crack his back, before he pauses in his walk to the bathroom. 

“I can’t take you with me in there, give me a second.” He mumbles, making Steve laugh again before he puts the phone down on his dresser and takes a quick bathroom break. He’s still drying his hands on his pajama pants when he walks back into frame, but looks a little more coherent as he picks the phone back up. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning phone call?”

“Is 10 o’clock considered early morning?” Steve retorts, just as the door bell rings through Eddie’s house.

“I swear to god, if Gareth forgot his key, he’s lucky you called before he rang that.” Eddie says, redirecting his course of travel from back to his bed to the stairs then the front door.

Steve immediately starts teasing. “It’s cute that you’re so grumpy in the morning. I feel like we’ve definitely talked before 10 and I don’t think you’ve ever been this grumpy.” 

“In my defense, I don’t think you’ve ever woken me up before.” Eddie responds, pulling open his front door and freezing as he’s met with Steve in person before him, chewing at his lip. “Oh. Uh. Hey?”

“Hi,” Steve laughs, hanging up the FaceTime. Eddie’s confused for a moment longer, before he pushes the door open further and invites Steve inside.

“You can, uh, come in. If you have time? I can show you around, if you want. I just… wasn’t expecting you.”

“Kinda the point of a surprise.” Steve smiles, stepping around Eddie and waiting until he’s closed the door to take a step closer. “I have a little bit of time, but I mostly couldn’t get on the plane to leave without…”

Steve pauses and it’s just long enough for Eddie to register that he stopped talking. He turns to look at Steve to make sure he’s okay, just as Steve steps toward him. Hands find his hips, turning Eddie’s body so they’re facing one another, and then Steve’s lips are on his and it feels like time has stopped around them.

Eddie’s reaction is a little delayed, which he’s blaming entirely on his having just woke up, but once he’s with the program again, his left hand slides around to cup the back of Steve’s head, holding him in place while his right hand settles at Steve’s hip. Their mouths work together for a long moment, before Steve pulls back slowly and lets out a heavy breath, licking over his lips and meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

“How long do you have before you have to be at the airport? I can drive you.” Eddie whispers, but his eyes are locked on Steve’s mouth, which makes the other laugh and nod.

“I’ve got, like, three hours.” He assures, and Eddie grins.

“Perfect, that’s plenty of time.” And with that, Eddie’s leaning back in to press another kiss to smiling lips.

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[afewproblems]

Prompt 53. "I'm flirting with you!" Part Two

A follow up to This Post

@happymediummm I promise the answer to your ask will be up soon in part three!!

Eddie stews in his room for three days following the incident at Steve's house. 

Wayne attempts to coax him out with food and coffee, even opening up the pack of bacon they'd been saving in the freezer, anything to try and get Eddie to talk to him. 

"I'm just worried s'all," he says softly from Eddie's doorway on the third day, his expression pinched in that way Eddie hates, "you should go out, do something, come on".

Wayne claps his hands together and disappears for a moment only to return with a tape case from the living room.

"Wayne, no--"

"It's overdue Eds, just bring it back for me would ya?"

Eddie groans into his hands at the triumphant expression on his uncle's face as he gets up from his bed and tugs on his leather jacket. 

"Since your friends work there," Wayne says brightly, gesturing with the tape as he hands it over to Eddie, "you should see if they waive the late fee for us". 

"I agreed to take it back, not talk to people," Eddie grumbles under his breath as Wayne shakes his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"At least you won't be growing mold anymore, sitting there in the dark," Wayne says with a wink, ignoring the indignant scoff Eddie makes.

"Store closes in a half hour kid, you better hurry!"

Shit.

Eddie grumbless petulantly as he hurries out the door, ignoring the way Wayne compares his groans to a haunted house door.

He doesn't smile at the jib, and it doesn't make him laugh for the first time in days as he gets into the van, it doesn't!

The parking lot of Family Video is empty, but what did he really expect on a Wednesday at half past eight in the evening. 

The Open sign is still on at least but the low lights in the building and the bright copper glare of the sunset make it so much more difficult to see who is working tonight. 

He could just toss the tape into the return slot and wait out the late fees, he's sure another video store will eventually open up in Hawkins, they can take their business there.

Eddie sighs heavily as he shuts off the van and yanks out the key, "dammit Wayne," he mutters under his breath as he gets out and makes his way to the door. 

Eddie winces at the sharp jingle of the bell above the door and looks around, his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of Steve and his big, stupid, hair.

Robin waves from the counter as Eddie spots her, she's grinning at him with a sly look on her face as she leans against the counter, the multiple buttons and pins on her vest clink against the glass surface.

"There he is," Robin crows, drumming the counter, "I was beginning to think Steve had kidnapped you or something, were you allowed out for good behavior?"

She seems to realize what she had just implied and winces, shaking her head as Eddie snorts mirthlessly. 

"Uh, no, I just came to return this for my uncle," Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes level with the counter rather than Robin's eyes. 

She frowns at him, taking the tape he slides across the counter and scanning it without dropping her gaze. 

"What's with you?" She says suspiciously. 

Robin drums her fingers lightly against the counter, as the large computer beeps acknowledging the return.

"Nothing, tired," Eddie shrugs, he's not about to tell Robin about what happened, though it is weird that she doesn't already know? 

Maybe she wasn't in on it, he can't imagine that Buckley would approve of a prank like that on another 'friend of Dorothy' but she was Steve's best friend first and foremost.

A song comes on over the small Family Video speakers, humming in the background. 

'All I wanna do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes

Rosanna, Rosanna…'

Robin wrinkles her nose, her eyes traveling towards one of the large speakers in the corner before looking back to Eddie, a large grin in place.

"God this sappy shit, I told Steve not to put this one on the tape, you must hate Toto".

Eddie shrugs again, glaring at the floor, wishing he could burn a hole into it that he could escape through. 

"He did play it…didn't he?" Robin asks quietly, a small trace of anxiety in her voice as she leans away from the counter.

Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes; if he was being honest, the tape was a nice touch --really sold the whole prank, honestly.

He looks back up to find Robin staring at him, and sighs heavily, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," he huffs, taking a step back towards the front door, Robin's eyes follow his path in confusion, "I wasn't much of a fan of the choices".

"But it's fine right," Eddie scoffs, "he can use his little tape on someone his shit will actually work on next time".

"What?" Robin says incredulously, her face scrunches into a frown as Eddie laughs.

"You know Buckley, I'm surprised you were on board with this?" 

"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Robin hisses, shrill and loud, as she finally walks around the counter towards him.

"Oh don't give me that, he's your best friend, you're going to tell me he didn't tell you about his plan?" Eddie shakes his head as a high pitched laugh bubbles up out of his chest.

"I don't know what plan you're talking about Eddie," she says in a low voice, her eyes wide and angry, "the only thing Steve was going to do that night was tell you how he felt about you". 

"Yeah right, Steve Harrington, wants me? And that's not a fucking joke?"

She sucks her teeth, letting her eyes roam over his face, "this was such a mistake, okay, get out". 

Eddie sneers sharply, "a mistake?"

"Yeah, I never should have gotten his hopes up". 

Robin crosses to the window behind the counter and shuts off the second neon open sign before breezing past Eddie to pull the cord on the other sign, nearly hard enough to yank it down. 

No, no, no, no, it's not true, she's just saving face, she has to be…

Robin stands beside the door, a furious glare aimed at Eddie, "we're closed, get out, I need to go check on Steve". 

Unbelievable, Eddie does roll his eyes at this and heads towards her for the door, he takes the push bar in his hands and leans on it to swing the exit open before turning to Robin one last time, he wants so badly to have the last word it hurts.

"Better go check on King-Steve, I'm sure he's devastated," Eddie snarls, the furious fire from before burns bright in his chest as he watches Robin stiffen in the doorway.

"I haven't talked to him since Sunday Munson, until just now, I thought he was with you!"

Robin reaches out to grab both doors in her hands.

"Asshole," she scoffs, her eyes never leaving his as she locks the doors in his face. 

***

1980, Hawkins, Indiana

Eddie sniffles as he walks home, he can feel blood trickle down his chin from the split lip Paul gave him while his knee aches from where he hit the ground. 

He's not even sure what he did.

Paul had been so nice recently, talking with Eddie almost every day, eventually taking him under his wing. Paul was a year above Eddie at their Middle school, and when he had told Eddie to meet him under the bleachers after school, how could Eddie say no? 

It didn't help that Paul had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the nicest laugh Eddie had ever heard.

What Eddie hadn't been expecting was Randy and David, also in Paul's grade, to be waiting for him. 

He breathes out a wet sob and keeps walking, scrubbing his face harshly as their trailer in Forest Hills comes into view, almost home.

Eddie reaches into his pocket and winces when he realizes his keys are gone, alongside his backpack.

They must have fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.

The backpack was a different story.

He limps up the steps of their porch, wincing as the fabric of his jeans pulls at the drying blood on his knee, and knocks on the front door.

"Comin," Wayne calls from inside, "coming, wasn't expectin' anyone-- Ed?" 

Wayne's face goes through a series of expressions, from surprise, to anger, before settling on concern. 

He leans down and brings his hands up to Eddie's face, turning it gently to see the damage.

"Who did this," Wayne says quietly, he stands up to his full height, looking around the trailer park behind Eddie while tucking him closer.

"It was at school," Eddie sniffles again, his voice growing tight, "I'm okay". 

Wayne looks down at him for a moment before shaking his head and moving out of the door to pull Eddie inside.

"Hurt anywhere else?" Wayne asks as he walks Eddie to the kitchen, one arm around his shoulder as though afraid the fourteen year old will collapse at any moment.

"I fell, my knee hurts," Eddie mumbles as he sits at the kitchen table in the corner while Wayne crosses to the cabinets and busies himself with grabbing two clean wash clothes and peroxide from the cupboard above their stove.

It's quiet for a moment while Wayne wets one of the clothes at the sink and makes his way back to Eddie.

He kneels on the floor, balancing his weight on his good knee while the other remains bent at a more comfortable ninety degree angle. His joints creak slightly as he gets comfortable but he still smiles at Eddie all the same.

"Won't you be sore after this?" Eddie sighs, wishing Wayne would just let him go to the washroom now to clean himself up. 

"You let me worry about that," Wayne grumbles as he reaches up to wipe the blood and dirt from Eddie's face with the wet cloth. It's warm from the water and Wayne's gentle hand.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Wayne asks softly, as he reaches for the bottle of peroxide and tips it into the second cloth. He tilts Eddie's face to dab gently at the now dirt free cuts.

Eddie sucks his teeth at the sting and closes his eyes.

He doesn't even know where to really start. 

Paul hadn't been the one to push him off his feet, that had been Randy, but that hadn't stopped Paul from laughing and calling Eddie a fairy. 

David had been the one to take his bag, dumping everything out into the dirt and ripping it until the zipper broke. 

Luckily all of his school books were still in his locker, but all of the campaign notes from his most recent D&D game had been in there, along with the worn copy of the Hobbit his mother had given him. 

All of it was still sitting in the mud and grass by the bleachers, stomped into the ground by David's white sneakers.

Eddie shrugs as Wayne leans back slightly. He takes Eddie's leg and slowly bends the knee at the joint, his eyes search Eddies for any sign of strain. The only sting comes from the way the jean material pulls at the drying blood from his scrapes.

Wayne breathes out and scrubs a hand over his tired face, his fingers catch on the grey stubble as they slide down and drop into Wayne's lap.

"I'll make an appointment on Monday with the principal," Wayne says as he stands up with a stifled groan, turning away from Eddie who shakes his head like a wet dog. 

"Wayne you can't--"

"Edward, what do you expect me to do? You come home lookin' like hell and you won't tell me what happened?" 

Eddie bites his split lip hard enough for the faint taste of copper to stain his tongue once more, how could he tell Wayne just what those boys had yelled at him as he sat in the dirt cradling his head, wishing he'd just gone home.

Wayne sighs loudly as he raises his face towards the ceiling, his lips move slightly but Eddie can't make out what he's saying before he looks back at Eddie, his expression worn.

"Okay, okay," Wayne murmurs, walking back towards Eddie, he pulls one of the other mismatched chairs towards himself and sits down, "I won't call, but you have to meet me halfway, alright?" 

Eddie hesitates, swallowing roughly, maybe there was a way to tell Wayne without telling him everything.

"There were some boys at school, um," Eddie picks at one of the holes in his blue jeans, pulling at the frayed thread absently, "I guess just, one at first but…".

His eyes burn suddenly as the words rip through him once again.

"He told me to come to the bleachers and then," Eddie's voice wobbles this time as his throat tightens, "there were more of them and they…called me--" 

Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down to hide his shining eyes, he doesn't notice Wayne coming closer until he feels a hand in his hair and the dam finally breaks.

Six years later, Eddie can still remember what his uncle told him that day as he cried in his arms.

"People can be cruel, especially when they don't understand, and sometimes that means being careful of who you open yourself up to. But you can tell me anything Ed, and I'll love ya no matter what. You always have home to come back to". 

Eddie knew people like Steve Harrington. He'd been around them his whole life. 

Sometimes they went by Paul, sometimes by Jason, or Billy.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous, any less capable of inflicting hurt on people that were different. 

So, Robin could say that Steve wasn't like that until she was blue in the face, because she was…wrong…

Wasn't she?

Taglist: @ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality

Part Three now up!

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 8

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Ao3

My unending gratitude to @azure7539arts for talking through this chapter and the next one with me, and helping to untangle all my thoughts!

-

Eddie spends the next week walking on air. He thinks that if his younger self could see him now, just smiling at random throughout the day, practically mooning over a boy—over Steve Harrington—he’d be horrified, but Eddie absolutely does not give a shit. 

He’s happy. He’s hopeful. 

He has no idea what the etiquette is for calling someone after a date, if there’s a certain amount of time that you’re supposed to wait so that you don’t seem like a desperate loser, but he figures he wouldn’t adhere to it even if he did know the rule. He calls Steve the very next day and they talk for an hour. 

He calls the next day, pushing his luck just a little, but Steve is on his way out the door to work and only has a few minutes of time to spare for Eddie. 

A couple of days later, Steve reaches out to him, calling the trailer and this time catching Eddie on the wrong side of a shift. Eddie is tempted to say “fuck it” and just be late to work, but, employing a strength of will he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he recognizes that getting fired wouldn’t help anything. He promises to call Steve back, and he’s at the phone almost as soon as he’s gotten through the door after work that evening. 

“So,” Eddie drawls into the phone between hasty bites of a peanut butter sandwich he’d slapped together before calling, trying not to chew in Steve’s ear, “not that playing phone tag with you isn’t fun, but do you think I could see you again?” 

“You mean like a date?” Steve teases. 

“Exactly like a date,” Eddie replies, not even bothering to quash his smile. 

He thinks he can hear Steve’s own smile when he answers, “I’d like that. And I’m actually free this Friday, if you wanted to take advantage of that.” 

“Perfect. Why don’t we meet here, at my place?” Eddie offers, and Steve gives a little laugh. 

“What happened to waiting until the third date?” he asks. “Trying to seduce me into your bed already?” 

“While you are very much worthy of seducing, I’m afraid I have different plans for the evening,” Eddie says. “So, meet me here? About six?” 

“Sure, Eddie,” Steve agrees, voice still warm with mirth. “I’ll be there.” 

And so, Friday evening finds Eddie on the front steps of his trailer, eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet and watching as Steve pulls up in front. He doesn’t even wait for Steve to fully exit his car before he’s crossing the distance with a few long strides; the moment Steve has straightened up and shut the door, Eddie is right there, leaning into his space the way he hasn’t been able to in what feels like too long. 

He’d like to drape himself over Steve’s back, wrap his arms around his waist, casual and easy like it had been before, but, apart from being in public, Eddie doesn’t want to push Steve too far. He keeps a small cushion of air between them instead, and leans up to murmur in Steve’s ear, “Goooood evening, sweetheart.” 

Steve laughs, nudging Eddie back with his elbow, but the fond look on his face says it’s not because he wants Eddie away from him so much as he just wants a little room to move. “You’re excited tonight,” he says, still smiling as he turns around. 

“Any night I get to see you is a very exciting night, indeed,” Eddie declares, just a little theatrical about it, grinning as Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. 

“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” He’s trying to sound unimpressed, but Eddie clocks the pleased, pink flush starting to gather at the tops of his cheeks. 

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s true and I’ll say it. Now c’mon.” 

Eddie waves for Steve to follow as he sets off walking towards the entrance to Forest Hills, and Steve glances, confused, between Eddie and the trailer. 

“We’re not staying here?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says again. He keeps walking and, as expected, Steve heaves a sigh and jogs to catch up. 

“Then why did you tell me to meet you here?” he asks, falling in step with Eddie. 

“Because, I wanted it to be a–” 

“–surprise,” Steve finishes in tandem with him, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, you liked the last one, didn’t you?” Eddie asks, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Steve’s. 

Biting his lip around a smile, Steve glances over at Eddie. “Yeah,” he admits, bumping Eddie’s shoulder back. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Then hold onto a little of that faith,” Eddie says. 

“I’d have a little more faith if you’d told me we’d be outside again,” Steve grumbles, mostly for show. “I would’ve brought a heavier jacket, it’s almost November.” 

“Steve, you run like a furnace,” Eddie deadpans. “Besides, it’s actually nice out. We should enjoy the last of it before winter descends and we spend the next four months freezing our asses off.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got on two jackets,” Steve says, nodding towards the battle jacket Eddie has pulled on over his leather one. 

“Are you actually cold, or do you just feel like complaining?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shoots him a look. “You’ll know when I’m cold.” 

Smirking, Eddie shakes his head. “I’m sure I will,” he says. “But we’re not going to be out here long enough for you to freeze your precious bits off, anyway – we’re just about there.” 

“We are?” Steve glances around, confused, and Eddie doesn’t blame him; there really isn’t much in this direction until you hit town, which is a longer walk than just ten minutes. 

In fact, the only thing around is just coming into view as the trees fall away and a stretch of cleared land begins at the roadside. 

“Here we are!” Eddie declares, taking a turn and ambling into the cracked and pitted parking lot of the diner. 

“You… brought us here,” Steve doesn’t quite ask. “To the diner?” 

“Yeah, c’mon.” Eddie reaches out and takes Steve by the hand, tugging him along until they get close enough to the building that he has to drop it again. 

Truthfully, Eddie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the diner since Steve brought it up last weekend – specifically, that night at the diner. 

The more he dwells on it, the more he feels cheated, in a way; like he’d robbed himself of the opportunity to experience his time with Steve the way Steve himself had seen it. And the way Steve had described that night, so full of warmth and potential – Eddie wants that. He wants to see it that way, too. 

“I figured we haven’t been here since– well, we haven’t been here in a while. At least, I haven’t. I don’t know if you…?” Eddie glances at Steve for confirmation as they walk through the door, and Steve just shakes his head, brows furrowed. “And I also thought, y’know, it might be nice. If we could both look at a time here as special.” 

The frown on Steve’s face doesn’t clear up at that, much to Eddie’s disappointment. He doesn’t look displeased, exactly, but he also sure as hell isn’t giving Eddie that same smile he’d given him last weekend. 

Steve’s just opened his mouth to say something when a voice cuts across the noise of the diner, sharp and pleased. 

“Boys!” Both Eddie and Steve look up to see Dottie heading towards them with a smile. 

If they have anything like a regular waitress at the diner, it’s Dottie – a woman at least in her late fifties with curly hair dyed a violent ginger-red, bejeweled cat’s eye glasses, and heavy, colorful eyeshadow that never seems to dare smudge past her lids. She loves nothing more than trying to feed the both of them until they pop, as far as Eddie can tell, and she always snaps them up when they visit on her shift. 

“I thought you’d forgotten all about me. Maybe found some fancier establishment to take your business to,” she says as she reaches the front. 

“Are you kidding, Dottie?” Steve asks, suddenly all charm and earnest smiles, his previous mood apparently forgotten. “We wouldn’t go anywhere else. You can’t beat the service here.” 

Dottie rolls her eyes, but gives Steve a pleased smile and a pat on the cheek. She grabs two menus and leads them back to a corner booth, past handfuls of regulars, families out for dinner with their kids, and groups of teenagers milking a single order of fries for as long as it will get them a table. 

“So where did you two go?” She drops the menus on the table and moves to the side as Eddie and Steve settle in. “Seems like you dropped off the face of the Earth for weeks.” 

“Uh… we were just taking a bit of a break,” Eddie says, at the same time Steve tells her, “We were busy.” 

Glancing between the two of them, Dottie gives a slow nod. “Uh huh. Well, it’s nice to see you back from your busy break. Two Cokes?” 

“You know us so well, Dottie,” Eddie sighs, batting his eyelashes up at her, which earns him an eyeroll and a pat on the cheek, too, before Dottie walks off the get their drinks. 

When Eddie looks back over, Steve is looking down, studying the menu even though they both have their favorites memorized by now. 

“Is… everything okay?” Eddie asks, sliding his own menu over just for something to do with his hands. 

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Steve says, and he almost sounds convincing – Eddie might really have believed him if he’d actually looked up at Eddie when he said it. 

Eddie sighs, glancing over the laminated plastic pictures of burgers and pancakes, trying to decide what he’s in the mood for. 

“Look, I just thought since we haven’t been here in a while, it’d be nice,” he says finally, voice pitched low, so it doesn’t carry past their table. “I know it’s not a candlelit dinner in the park, or whatever–” 

“That’s not it,” Steve cuts in. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just– it’s fine.” 

Anything Eddie might have come up with to say to that is cut off by Dottie’s reappearance with their drinks. 

“You boys ready to order?” she asks, pulling her order pad out and holding her pen at the ready. 

“Yeah?” Steve half-asks, glancing up and meeting Eddie’s eyes, and Eddie can’t see anything there but the question of whether or not he’s ready, so he nods, and Steve looks back to Dottie. “Yeah. Can I get a patty melt, please? And fries.” 

“You got it,” Dottie scribbles his order down and looks to Eddie, who teeters on the edge of getting a waffle before deciding on the club sandwich and his own order of fries (he’s not entirely sure how well Steve will tolerate his being stolen tonight). “Alright, I’ll get those in for you. Wave me down if you need anything, alright?” 

They thank her and she sashays off again, leaving Steve and Eddie to themselves. 

The quiet that falls over them isn’t comfortable. It isn’t like the contentment of simply sitting in one another’s company that they used to have, nor even a natural pause in conversation like they’d had at dinner last week; it’s simply an awkward lack of knowing what to say, how to keep things rolling. 

Something is off with Steve, but he refuses to say what, and Eddie is desperate to distract from it. He reaches for the first thing he can think of. 

“So I didn’t know you and Jeff were, like… friends,” he ventures, thinking back to the way they’d acted familiarly around one another on Eddie’s last visit to the video store. 

Steve looks up at him, face scrunched a bit in confusion, and Eddie rushes to clarify. 

“I mean, not that I thought you disliked each other, I just didn’t know you were hanging out.” 

Wait, no, now it sounds like Eddie is jealous, like he’s trying to keep tabs on Steve, who is still staring at him like he’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. 

“Not that you can’t hang out! That’s fine, I just – thought maybe that was a recent development.” Eddie bites down on the inside of his cheek, trying very hard to shut up. 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve finally says. “I ran into him at Melvald’s one night a couple of weeks ago and he invited me to come over to watch a game sometime, since we weren’t really seeing each other at… the usual places anymore.” 

“Ah. Right. Right.” Eddie nods. “You know, you… could come to the usual places, if you wanted to. You’re always welcome. In fact, I think your presence as a spectator at Hellfire meetings has been sorely missed.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve nods, but he sounds distant about it at best. 

“Did you wanna know what you’ve missed so far? I know we were kind of in the middle of the adventure when we, uh–” Eddie shrugs. “You always say you like hearing the story.” 

“Henderson’s been telling me,” Steve says shortly. He grabs his soda to take a sip, but now he actively seems irritated. 

Eddie does his best to tamp down his frustration. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong; he has no idea where the night went south, but he’s hopeful he can salvage it. 

They sit for a little while longer in mostly awkward silence. Steve folds his paper straw wrapper over and over on itself until it’s a tight little square, then drops it on the table and watches it expand in a little puddle of condensation from his glass. He asks how Wayne is doing. Eddie tries to return the favor, before realizing that the only people in Steve’s life that he doesn’t regularly see are his parents (off-limits if he wants Steve in a better mood) and Robin (who may or may not still want to kill Eddie). He glances around the diner instead, and perks up when his attention lights on the back wall. 

“Hey, you got any dimes?” he asks Steve, who sits up a little at the unexpected question. 

“Maybe?” he says, shifting in his seat so he can reach into his pocket. “Why?” 

Eddie jams his own hand down into his pocket and emerges victorious with a small handful of change. “Never mind, I’ve got some. Be right back.” 

He hops out of the booth and heads towards the back, where the behemoth of a jukebox squats, waiting to be fed coins and spit out songs that no one even remembers. 

Steve had been right when he’d said most of the music sucks; there isn’t anything more recent than mid-70s, and almost nothing in there had ever been what you would call a chart-topper. Sometimes Eddie and Steve waste their spare change having a contest over who can find the worst song to play, until the waitresses start glaring at them and they slink guiltily back to their table. 

This time, though, Eddie flips through for one of the few good songs he knows is in there. He clicks to make his selection and grins as the quick-paced strum of a guitar pours out of the speakers, followed by the crooning of none other than Elvis Presley. 

You can always count on The King to pick things up. 

“There we go,” Eddie says as he returns to the booth. “Had to set the mood.” 

Or maybe you can’t always count on The King, because Steve actually looks kind of pissed. 

“What is it?” Eddie asks, any confidence the music had given him draining away. 

Steve stares at him for a moment longer, unnervingly intense, before he blinks and looks away. “Nothing. It’s– never mind.” 

“No, what’s–” 

“Here we are,” Dottie announces, appearing at the side of their table with plates in hand. “Patty melt for Steve, club for Eddie, ketchup for your fries. How’s that look?” 

“It looks great, thanks,” Steve says, smiling up at Dottie as though he hadn’t just been glaring offended daggers at Eddie; he’s always been good at that in a way Eddie hates – putting on that shallow, easy-going mask at the drop of a hat. 

“Anything else I can bring for you?” Dottie asks. 

Eddie is about to say no when he scans the table and realizes the one thing he’d forgotten. “Oh, actually – could I order a vanilla shake, too?” 

And that is apparently the wrong thing to say. 

Steve’s smile falls away, and he’s giving Eddie a look that sits somewhere between angry and hurt that Eddie doesn’t fucking understand. 

“Actually,” Steve says sharply, “I just realized that I have to go. I’m – there’s somewhere else I’m supposed to be, sorry.” 

He slides out of the booth around a shocked Dottie and pulls enough money from his wallet to cover his meal and a tip, pressing it into her hand before turning to leave. 

“Honey, did you want a box for all this?” Dottie asks, helplessly gesturing towards his untouched meal. 

“No, I – sorry, I just have to go,” Steve says, already halfway to the door. 

“Shit,” Eddie swears lowly, shimmying out of the booth to give chase. 

“Eddie!” Dottie calls out sharply, gesturing to his untouched meal when he turns back to look at her. 

“I’m not – I’m not leaving, I swear, I’ll be right back, I just have to–” He glances up frantically when he hears the bell over the door jingle, signifying that Steve is slipping away. “I just have to– Steve. I need to– I will be right back.” 

Dottie sighs and nods, and Eddie is off like a shot. He catches up to Steve at the end of the parking lot, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s shoulder when he doesn’t respond to Eddie’s calls. 

“Let me go,” Steve snaps, jerking out from under Eddie’s touch, but Eddie isn’t deterred this time, grabbing Steve around the arm and halting him in his tracks. 

“No. Not until you tell me what the fuck I did to piss you off!” Eddie says. 

Steve wheels around, shooting an incredulous look at him. “Seriously? I have to tell you?” he demands. “How could you think that any of that was okay?” 

“I don’t– You like the diner! Or you did!” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to know you suddenly hate it there?” 

“It’s not the diner,” Steve huffs, and Eddie finally lets him go, if only to throw his hands up in the air, trying to toss some of his frustration off. 

“Then what? I’m not psychic, Steve! How am I supposed to fix my mistakes if you won’t even tell me when I’m upsetting you?” 

“You can’t just rewrite the past, Eddie!” The look on Steve’s face is thunderous, until it slides away like he’s too tired to keep it up, exhaustion following in its wake. “You can’t just – you can’t.” 

The chill Eddie feels has absolutely nothing to do with crisp October night that had descended while they were inside. “What? No, Steve, that’s not what I was trying to do. Why would I–” 

“So what, then? I tell you about the night I thought of as our first date and you decide to just throw it back in my face? Show me what it could have been if you’d just fucking looked at me?” Steve asks. 

And suddenly it clicks – everything Eddie had done tonight, almost beat for beat, entirely unintentionally, had damned him. 

Maybe if he’d waited a while between Steve’s confession and his decision to take them to the diner, it might have been okay, but for a musician, Eddie’s timing had sucked. 

“No, that’s not what this was,” Eddie insists. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Then we’re back to you just trying to– to fucking recreate something we already did, so you can try to make it better!” Steve says. 

In his floundering, a little of Eddie’s frustration boils over. “Well you’re the one who said you wanted to just go back to doing what we were doing!” 

“I also said I wanted to go forward with more awareness! Not go back and do the same shit over again!” Steve snaps. “I’ve spent the last few weeks just– going over and over everything we did together, looking at everywhere I fucked up, everywhere I misinterpreted you, realizing that everything I was looking at as us wasn’t– it wasn’t the same for you. And I was getting used to that, I was… making my peace, or whatever, thinking we’d just move on, and then you go and– and do this.” 

“I–” Any of Eddie’s frustration, any anger, it all dries up, leaving behind a cold, rasping desperation. “Steve, I’m sorry.” 

Steve opens his mouth, but the sound of the bell over the diner’s door sounds off again, and another man’s stern voice cuts into the silence. 

“Young man, you need to come pay your bill.” 

“Oh, Herb, he’s a regular, he’s not going to just run out!” Dottie’s voice comes on the heels of the man’s, equally stern. “Just give them a minute.” 

“I gave them a minute, Dorothy,” the man—Herb, Eddie guesses—snaps. “I won’t have delinquents doing any kind of dine and dash nonsense.” 

“Well, he didn’t even dine, so get back inside. And he isn’t a delinquent. Honestly,” Dottie is practically scolding, but Herb won’t be deterred. 

“You’d better go take care of that.” Steve nods back towards the diner, before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and turning to walk off. 

“Wait,” Eddie calls out. “Just wait a minute, please don’t–” 

“Young man,” Herb barks out again, and Eddie hisses out a string of swears. 

He jerks back around towards the diner, yanking out his wallet and trying to count bills as he walks. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I tried to tell him,” Dottie says, genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine, it’s– fine.” He offers her a weak smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” 

Herb—the manager, if Eddie had to guess by his ugly, front-creased slacks and lack of apron—is unmoved. 

“Come with me to the register,” he says, opening the door and gesturing for Eddie to go in. 

“Dude, I know how much I owe you, can’t I just give you the money here?” Eddie asks, trying not to squirm with the antsy need to go running after Steve. 

“And how much do you owe me?” Herb asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“It’s, like, ten dollars for the meal, and then tip. Here.” Eddie holds out a handful of bills, but Herb refuses to take them. 

“Like ten dollars isn’t an exact amount. Inside,” Herb demands. 

Eddie is half tempted to just throw the bills at him and run, but even as Dottie squawks at the man that he’s being unreasonable, Eddie knows she won’t be enough to sway the guy from trying to ban him—or worse—so he follows Herb in and begrudgingly pays his bill at the register. He makes sure to hand the tip directly to Dottie, making spiteful eye contact with Herb as he does, and then he’s back out the door. 

He doesn’t see Steve out on the road. He doesn’t see Steve at the entrance to the trailer park. He doesn’t see Steve’s car in front of his place when he finally gets back, winded from running at least halfway there. 

Bastard probably took a shortcut through the woods. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie hauls off and kicks one of the tires on his van, the nearest available object, which does nothing but hurt his foot and make him a little more miserable. 

When the jittering swell of anger and disappointment has receded a bit, no longer clogging his throat and giving him room to think a little more clearly, he considers his options. 

Like last time, he could give Steve room to cool off. To lick his wounds in peace and then maybe come back to Eddie, ready to talk again. 

Or. 

Or he could get in his van, go find Steve, and show him that he’s willing to face his mistakes and make them better, whatever that takes. That he wants Steve to tell him what’s really wrong, so they can address it and move forward. That he’s willing to fight for Steve. 

He’s already pulling out of his parking space before he even realizes he’s made his decision.

Part 9

-

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[rebelspykatie]

Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never thought about kissing another guy. He rarely thinks about kissing anybody. For the longest time, he was convinced that no one would ever want to kiss him, so he never saw the point in dwelling on it. 

But maybe that was unusual. He might have mistaken his apathy for normalcy when really he’s the freak. The average person probably thinks about kissing an awful lot. He’s listened to Jeff talk about asking out Lacy from his calculus class and Gareth go on and on about how unfair it is that he can’t make out with his boyfriend behind the bleachers to know that the average high schooler is pretty horny. 

Yet, Eddie’s childhood wasn’t littered with school yard crushes. There aren’t fond memories of girls that he imagined sneaking off with during lunch period or recess. There’s just…nothing. A part of that was his rocky childhood and jumping from his parents, to just his dad, to Wayne. But a lot of it was pure disinterest in the hottest girl in their grade growing breasts before all the other girls, or how tenth grade Mandy would make out with anyone with the right incentive. 

He’s never thought about it long enough for anything to stick. He figured, one day, when he was old enough to escape Hawkins and all the small minded bigots who think he’s a devil worshiper, that he would find a girl that appreciated his specific eccentricities. That he’d settle down somewhere quiet, a little closer to the city than Hawkins, and find some blue collar job and start a family. That’s just what everyone does, right?

He knows that’s not true, though. That everyone doesn’t follow that path. He knows people like Gareth and Robin, and apparently Steve, don’t get to just walk into happily ever after. There’s no white picket fence in their future, and Eddie’s never had to confront that reality so head on before. He knows what it’s like to be different. To have a target on your back. But, it’s nothing like the ostracization of being gay. 

Thinking about kissing Steve scares him. When he closes his eyes, it’s a looping replay of that day. Steve’s soft lips on his unmoving ones. Big hands cradling his face. He can perfectly recall the terror and confusion. It’s seeped into his bones now, because he’s realized something about himself and he doesn’t know what to do with the information. 

He can do nothing. He can move forward and pretend that he doesn’t wake up panting, picturing Steve on top of him pressing him into the mattress with their faces attached. He doesn’t ever have to acknowledge that for the first time in twenty years of living, he’s having honest to god wet dreams that involve another person. And that person he’s envisioning is a guy. Everything can just be swept under the rug.

But he’s pretty sure it scares him more to know that he can’t. It’s eating away at him. Eddie feels trapped in his own skin. The truth is clawing its way to the surface, wanting to break free, even if Eddie’s shutting down as it tries to spill out. He knows it’s inevitable, that overflow. The dam breaking. 

It takes an intervention to set everything in motion. Wayne’s been fussing over him for weeks. He’s been doing that worried parent thing that he thinks Eddie doesn’t know about, where he stands outside Eddie’s closed bedroom door like he wants to knock and say something, but doesn’t. He’s studying Eddie over their morning cereal like the little floating letters are going to spell out why Eddie’s been holed up in his room almost mute. 

But the final straw is when Wayne comes home from work to Eddie painting figurines on the stairs of their new trailer while pretending that he’s not watching Steve help Max fold laundry next door. There’s this polite distance between them and Eddie that didn’t exist before, this wide expanse where before Eddie would’ve been sitting on the picnic table in front of Max’s trailer teasing both of them, or maybe helping if it was a low pain day. 

Instead, he’s sat like a toddler in timeout, taking furtive peaks over the little paint brushes and praying that Max’s sharp intuition about situations like this is dulled by her literal lack of being able to see Eddie from over there. Steve can see him, though, and Eddie’s feigning that it doesn’t bother him. What a grave he’s dug for himself here. 

“Boy, don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” Wayne sighs as he climbs out of his truck, this world-weary, too knowledgeable sigh that makes Eddie squirm. 

“I don’t know what you mean, old man.” Better to just play ignorant. Even though Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t escape Wayne’s withering gaze. He hasn’t in over ten years, so he likely won’t be starting now. 

Wayne just stares at him. A raised eyebrow and crossed arms that tell Eddie he means business. He’s not getting out of this. 

Eddie’s jaw shifts and he looks down at the figure in his hands. “I don’t really know what to do, Wayne.” 

“Move over,” Wayne says, settling down beside Eddie until they’re shoulder to shoulder, barely waiting for the little shuffle Eddie does to make room. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just stares across the yard in the same direction Eddie was moments before, a contemplative look on his face. “This about that boy?”

Eddie follows his gaze over to Steve. His silence goes on a little too long before he softly says, “yeah.” 

Wayne hums, still looking at Steve. “You know, you always were a late bloomer.”

That grabs Eddie’s attention. He turns towards Wayne, who takes that as his cue to continue, and sets down the figure behind them. 

“Nothing ever happened when I thought it would when you were a boy. Lizzy said you took forever to walk and talk. I kept waiting for you to come to me about the birds and the bees, but you didn’t. Not sure if that was a good thing to let go, but I knew you weren’t getting yourself into trouble. Probably wasn’t much I could offer you that public school wasn’t already teaching you.” 

Eddie wonders briefly if he should’ve hidden the condoms in his room better, but maybe that’s what gave Wayne the confidence to leave Eddie to his business. Even if they were collecting dust before they became dust that day the trailer cracked open.

“You never brought anyone around.” He nods in the direction of Steve. “Not until him.” 

The conversation with Steve is distantly replaying in his head. How he went over their every interaction with Robin and they came to this same conclusion. Maybe Eddie really is an idiot. 

“It wasn’t intentional,” Eddie adds. “I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

“I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing, son. That’s part of life.” He pats Eddie on the back. “It’s ‘specially a part of being in love.” 

Eddie’s not sure he’s willing to start that train of thought, yet. He’s grateful for the quiet, unspoken acceptance, but he’s not ready to think about labeling it something as profound as love. He flounders for a second before saying, “I think I’ve missed my chance there,” as he looks back over at Steve. 

“Are you dead and I don’t know it?” He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder. “Seem pretty real to me.” He whacks Eddie’s head gently. “Ain’t nothing missed if you’re still alive to make things right.” 

“Hey!” Eddie laughs, mock offended at the attack, rubbing the back of his head and leaning away from Wayne. “Isn’t it socially unacceptable to joke about someone that was legally dead for almost three minutes?”

“I think I get leeway as the one that kept you alive for ten years by myself.” Wayne wrangles him into a side hug, pulling him to his chest with an arm around his neck. “Just cause things are broken, doesn’t mean you can’t fix ‘em, son.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello hello - please feel free to ignore if it's not your jam but I'm in love with future fic rockstar eddie/ non famous steve being sickeningly in love - especially outsiders getting jealous when eddie only has eyes for steve!

I got two rock star Eddie requests in a row so I had to break them up a little. I love the idea of Steve like surviving some of the worst shit to happen and then absolutely not able to deal with the crowd at a concert. He is clearly traumatized by what happened, and has to face his fears a bit, and it doesn't go so well. This could have been kind of a time skip thing, but I decided to make Steve suffer more because I'm suffering and that's just how the world turns. Thank you for this one! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Steve’s favorite part of going on tour with Eddie was being able to watch soundcheck.

Eddie always put on a great show, and Steve watched from the side of the stage as often as he could, but he went to soundcheck because it felt more intimate.

He could stare openly, not hide the fact that he was one hip thrust away from drooling all over the floor.

The guys in the band just rolled their eyes, used to it for the last several years since Steve started coming with them.

They were all perpetually single, hooking up in some cities, but mostly just enjoying the ride as a group.

Steve could admit though, he was hesitant to go to actual shows, and that was the main reason he never missed soundcheck.

About a year ago, Steve was front row at a show, trying his best to just blend in. It was easier that way. But sometimes blending in wasn’t good enough, not for the hardcore groupies.

They recognized him, and while they didn’t know he was Eddie’s boyfriend, they knew he was special to the band in some way. They quickly got too close, much too close for Steve’s comfort, even for general admission at a metal concert. They crowded him.

He really thought they were just being overly friendly, trying to get backstage, tried to just suck it up and deal with it for the remainder of the show.

But then Eddie did his song. The song he wrote for Steve. He always sang to Steve, in the subtlest way he possibly could, which wasn’t very subtle at all.

He looked towards Steve the entire time. He would smile at him, sometimes even find his way to the side of the stage and blow him a kiss. With a crowd around, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to know who he was blowing a kiss to.

But for this particular show, the groupies surrounding him were almost completely blocking his view. If Eddie wasn’t elevated on stage, he wouldn’t have even been able to see the top of his head.

He knew Eddie must have seen him in the group, must have noticed his predicament.

The music stopped. Dead silence in a metal concert was never a good sign.

“Everyone take a step away from the person you’re closest to. Everyone’s pushing too much.”

Some people listened, but not the groupies surrounding Steve.

“If everyone in the front doesn’t take a couple steps back, I leave. Security will clear this place out, and we never come back. Got it?”

Steve felt the groupies to his left start inching away, and hoped the rest would follow.

Eddie was now standing right in front of Steve. He looked concerned, and Steve knew he probably looked a bit panicked.

“Stevie, give me a thumbs up if you’re good.”

Steve wanted to, he wanted the show to go on, and make this just a distant memory of one of his least favorite Corroded Coffin shows.

But the group around him didn’t seem to like the attention on Steve. Not when they wanted attention on them.

Plus, his arms were pretty much glued to his sides from how close everyone was to him, so even if he was feeling okay with the situation, he had no way to put his thumb up.

“Alright, sorry everyone. Some of you can’t listen, now all of you suffer, just like school. I need security to the front, my left now.”

The crowd was pissed, but once Steve was pulled from the crowd by security and set up on the stage, Eddie pulling him backstage, the rest of the guys following, almost as concerned.

Eddie never stopped a show, never canceled one, never postponed one, never gave less than 150% on stage every night. If he was doing this, it was for a good reason.

Once everything was explained, Eddie had security find out who it was near Steve, and make sure they got banned from all of his shows.

But they were long gone, and Steve obviously didn’t know their names, barely could have picked them out of a lineup.

He decided to stop watching shows from anywhere but backstage, and then it became only watching soundcheck.

But he and Eddie kind of loved that, loved having their moments without having to hide.

The guys would roll their eyes and complain, but they didn’t mean it. They were just happy to have some decent food waiting in leftover containers for them when they got back to the buses or hotels because Steve cooked while they performed.

Eddie would run through a few of the songs, always including Steve’s song even though he didn’t have to.

The venue for tonight was smaller than most of the rest of this tour, intended to be that way so they could go back to their “roots” and have a more intimate setting with fans.

Eddie asked if Steve would want to watch this one, maybe hang out by security at the front of the stage.

Initially, he said no. But Eddie seemed disappointed, even though he insisted he understood and he didn’t want Steve to be uncomfortable, and Steve didn’t want him to be disappointed.

So the day of the show, while watching soundcheck from a chair on stage, he yelled, “Got a ticket for me, big boy?”

He could do this for Eddie. It wouldn’t even be that many people in the crowd, and the chances of the same thing happening again were slim to none.

He’d been through worse.

The way Eddie’s face lit up at his words, his excited bouncing causing his guitar to sway around him.

‘I always got a ticket for you, sweetheart.”

One hour before the show, the guys usually ignored visitors, choosing to use their time to get hydrated and snack, sometimes smoke a bit if they weren’t focused right.

Steve was rarely part of this, even he knew this was a band thing he shouldn’t force himself into.

But tonight, Eddie used the hour before the show to make sure he was taken to a good spot by the stage with security, had a water bottle and granola bar so he wouldn’t have to leave.

Since there was no one but security there, Eddie planted a quick kiss to his forehead before walking away.

“Enjoy the show, Stevie!”

“Always do, Eds!”

The crowd started trickling in only a few minutes later, excitedly getting up to the barricade, talking amongst themselves about the set list. A few people were next to him, but there was enough space that he didn’t feel worried.

He relaxed a bit, taking a few sips of water and smiling at the security guard.

As more people came in, they crowded behind him and next to him. He was somewhat pushed further to the side, but he didn’t mind. He wanted fans to get a great experience, and if that meant he only saw some of the stage, he could live with that.

The lights went down, and he felt a few people crowd in closer to him.

It was fine.

Until the guys took the stage, Eddie immediately bouncing over to his microphone stand and starting on the first song.

The crowd moved in more.

It couldn’t be possible that he was being shoved between people, but he was.

The room was closing in, literally, around him, and he had no idea what to do. The security guard was watching the front row closest to the band, not paying attention to the way Steve had been drawn into the crowd.

He took a deep breath.

Then someone yelled in his ear.

“Hey! You’re Steve right? Like, with the band?”

He managed to nod, but he didn’t want to have a conversation. This was a concert, a loud one. It wasn’t really the time to talk.

But the guy didn’t stop.

“Are you like an assistant? Or a tech guy?”

Steve shook his head.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Well, you go to all the shows right? What do you do?”

He wasn’t going to stop. Steve had to leave.

But there were now a few people in front of him, and he was completely surrounded by people having the time of their lives.

He just needed the security guard to look his way, he could signal him, and he’d be out.

“They stopped that show for you before. People kind of hated you for a while.”

Okay, Steve was done. He knew people kind of hated him for a while, he hated himself for a while. Hated that his reaction caused a whole 2500 people to miss out on half of a show they paid for.

But he reminded himself, the same way Eddie had for weeks, that it was Eddie’s call to end the show.

Any fans that wanted to blame Steve, could take their blind idolization somewhere else.

“I was there. Actually, right next to you. I doubt you remember me.”

He got that right, he didn’t remember him.

“I told everyone you and Eddie must have something going on if he’s willing to stop a show for you. No one believed me.”

Steve remained silent, his breath coming in short pants. He could see Eddie singing to a group on the opposite end of the stage.

“But that’s what it is, right? You two are together and he’s so whipped he ended a show because you can’t handle a crowd?”

Steve had to go.

The guy was touching him in most places, half of it out of necessity, but some of it not. His hand was wrapped around Steve’s wrist, much too tight for it to be accidental or just to get him to move.

“Let go,” Steve managed to say, loud enough to be heard, but his voice was shaking.

The guy did let go, but he didn’t give him any space.

“My friend fucked him once you know.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie had slept with two people before he met Steve, and he didn’t even remember their names. One was a guy at the bar in Indy he frequented, celebrating his 18th birthday in a way he regretted the next morning. The other was a girl, admittedly a test of his sexuality and she probably knew it from the way he fumbled around the entire time.

So whichever one of those people was this guy’s friend, clearly they were telling whatever story got them attention from other fans.

“Good for them,” he said, trying to focus on Eddie.

If he focused on Eddie, he’d be okay.

“Eddie promised to call him and never did. Kind of sucks to be left like that.”

Steve knew that too. That in Eddie’s somewhat drunken stupor, he’d gotten his number and said he would call him, but lost the paper at some point and never went back to the bar.

“Happens to the best of us.”

“Yeah, but not to you apparently.”

Steve started pushing forward, desperate to leave.

Eddie was talking to the crowd now, introducing the guys like he always did after the first two songs.

“You’re not even into this music. Why does he like you?”

Well, that’s certainly a question Steve asked himself often. Couldn’t help it, really.

Eddie, especially now, could have anyone he wanted. Any famous person would probably drop whoever they were currently with to have even a moment of Eddie’s attention.

Steve loved Corroded Coffin’s music, he loved the passion they all put into creating it and performing it, loved listening to Eddie at two in the morning furiously scratching down lyric ideas. He loved hearing some of their influences over the years, even going to some shows for Metallica because he knew it meant a lot to Eddie.

But it’s true he wasn’t a huge fan of this kind of music. He liked pop, he liked stuff you heard on any standard radio station driving down the road. He liked being able to dance along to it when he was cooking.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t belong here just the same as anyone else. He did. Anyone could enjoy this band, just as anyone could enjoy any band, even if it didn’t mesh well with their other interests. That’s regardless of the relationship status between them and the lead singer.

So Steve kept pushing forward, doing his best to get out of the crowd, away from this guy who was much larger than he was.

“Where you going? Can’t handle people knowing you aren’t worth his time?”

Steve’s heart was beating fast, so many sweaty bodies pushing against his on his way to the security guard who looked like he was finally noticing what was going on.

“Can’t believe he wrote a song for someone who doesn’t even watch his shows!”

That one hit Steve in the chest, hard.

This guy was why he couldn’t watch Eddie. He wanted to. He would be at every single show if he could.

But clearly that wasn’t in the cards for him.

He could feel bad about that later.

His focus was entirely on getting backstage for now, ignoring the shouts of everyone he was pushing through.

“Dude, you can’t just push to the front!”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Should’ve been here earlier if you wanted front row!”

Steve’s heart was racing, but he was trying to get to the security guard who was coming towards the barricade.

He reached him, but got shoved hard into the barricade.

The guy from earlier had managed to follow him through the crowd and just pushed him. If there were less people around, he would’ve fallen on his face.

He felt the edge of the barricade dig into his ribs, but it was a minor pain compared to things he’s felt before. He just wanted to go.

He stood up straight, took the biggest breath he could, and let the security guard lift him over the barricade.

Somehow Eddie must have seen it, and he immediately stopped playing.

“What’s going on? Stevie?”

Steve held his thumb up, hoping Eddie would continue and he could sneak out back without causing any more of a scene.

But Eddie must have seen the way Steve was hunched over, holding his rib where he’d been pushed into the barricade.

He was immediately on the edge of the stage, asking the security guard to help lift Steve while he pulled him up.

He was honestly too far into a sudden panic attack to even resist.

Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks as soon as he was sitting on the stage, his wide eyes looking over everywhere. The rest of the guys had all come over to see what was going on.

“Stevie, what happened, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Who did this?” He turned to the guys before Steve could even try to answer. “We’re done. Send everyone home.”

Steve was shaking his head. He didn’t want this to happen again, not because of him.

“People will hate me,” he managed to say.

“What? Sweetheart, no they won’t. You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. Just let me go backstage.”

Eddie was watching him, trying to figure out if he was faking being okay.

He was, and he knew Eddie would see it, and he would cancel the show, and even more people would hate him.

“We’re done. If people hate you for it, they can hate me too.”

The guys all agreed, because they’re the best, and they know they can’t put on a real show without Eddie anyway.

Steve focused on the way Eddie’s hands felt on his face, his neck, his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, managing to calm down enough to see the lights come on and the tech guys come out to start breaking down.

“Think you can walk or do you need me to carry you? Where does it hurt, love?”

“I’m okay.”

“That doesn’t answer my questions, sweetheart.”

Oh. Guess not.

“I can walk. It’s just my ribs. Not broken.”

“Who did this?”

Steve knew he could probably still find him in the crowd, had managed to glimpse enough of his clothing and face to point him out if he was still inside.

But it wasn’t worth it.

This would continue to happen. As long as people loved Eddie the way they did, as long as they didn’t like Steve, this would happen.

And Steve was okay with it, he had to be. He knew Eddie would take this harder than he did, maybe even the rest of the guys would too.

“Just a guy. He didn’t like that you never called his friend.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“You remember your 18th birthday?”

“Are you kidding me?”

Steve nodded.

“Fuck them. Seriously, fuck him for seriously thinking a one night stand was gonna go anywhere. Jesus Christ.”

Eddie kissed Steve’s forehead, forgetting that there was still a crowd of disappointed fans, though pretty much everything that had just happened made it pretty clear Steve was his boyfriend.

“Let’s go back to the bus, get on our way home. Wayne’s baking you a cake for the birthday you had to celebrate with us. Said there’s no way the cake we got you was as good as his homemade butter cake.”

“He’s right,” Steve smiled.

This is what it came down to, in the end.

Eddie loved him, loved him enough to come out on stage just to make sure he was okay. Eddie loved him enough to bring him home to his family whenever they could, knew Steve needed to see the kids, see Wayne and Robin whenever possible. Eddie loved him enough to make sure he had a special spot for every soundcheck, sang his song to him every time so he could get his own personal show.

Steve loved him enough to deal with the fans hating him, for some fans to hate them all for supporting Eddie despite the fact that he was queer. Steve loved him enough to let Eddie baby him even though he hated it, especially in front of others. Steve loved him enough to watch every soundcheck like it was a sold out arena show.

[teddywesworl]

posting restrictions on bb teams are lifted let's GO

So excited to share this one with you all, and to work with beloved mutual @grimweathers for @steddiebang2024!! I was a little nervous putting my tags, CWs, and summary together for this one tbh, but I knew it would find its people.