#including the TA?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghosttotheparty · 2 years ago

Text

everything you need, anything you want

also on AO3 based on this post

So eighty-six wasn’t his year.

It’s not like Eddie’s never been wrong before.

He lives in the Harrington home. After the “earthquakes,” Steve’s parents move to Norfolk. They leave Steve in Hawkins. Not that he would have gone with them anyway, but an offer would have been nice.

They leave him the house. And enough money to get by. His mother leaves him a kiss on the cheek. He wipes it off when she’s gone.

Eddie stays in the guest room.

Steve’s parents’ old room remains empty, save for a bare mattress, a bed frame, two dressers and his mother’s vanity. Steve contemplates taking it all out back and having a bonfire.

When they found Eddie in the Upside Down, cowering in the shadows, no one thought he was real. Eddie didn’t think they were real either, after all the tricks the Upside Down has played on him. Robin said his name.

He hadn’t used his voice except to scream in the past year, so it was rough and scratchy and dry when he spoke.

You’re real?

They were.

Solid and breathing when they embraced him, and then he was crying, and for some reason it was Steve on the ground with him, his arms around Eddie tightly.

He’d been whispering to Eddie.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Eddie, I’m here now, I got you.

As if he’d known at all how much of Eddie’s mind he’d occupied the whole time he struggled to survive. As if he’d known that he was what kept Eddie warm at night. (Or, what Eddie assumes was night. Time seems to move differently in the Upside Down. Simultaneously slower and faster, five years passing in an hour, twenty minutes in three weeks.)

The reunion had to be put on pause. They’ve all gotten too good at stopping their emotions, at shifting gears at the blink of an eye.

It resumed in Steve’s house, late at night, after they’d all nursed their wounds and drank some water and showered off the Upside Down.

Eddie sat on the coffee table. He was wearing Steve’s clothes now, his own too ripped and worn and disgusting. (He threw them into a bag after dressing and told Steve to burn it all. Steve swore he would.) Steve’s sweatpants were warm, soft, and his hoodie was too big, the sleeves hanging down over Eddie’s hands. His hair was wet and cold against his skin, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease in his own body.

Except that everyone was staring at him like he was about to explode at any given second. Except Steve. Who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Dustin spoke first.

You died. I— I watched you die, I heard you stop breathing.

Eddie gripped the ends of the hoodie sleeves tightly.

I know.

Did you not?��Robin had asked weakly, like she was going to be sick. Did we just…

No, I did.

He did.

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows.

I died, but then I just…

All their eyes were wide. Confused. Sitting in an awful fucking silence that made Eddie want to rip his skin off.

I’m not the same. As I was. There’s something… Off about me.

What is it? Nancy asked. Her voice was quiet, almost just a breath but still audible in the silence.

He had squeezed his eyes shut, his legs drawn to his chest. How the fuck was he supposed to explain it? That he wasn’t quite human anymore? That he could smell all their blood, and then he wanted to consume it? That he was fucking starving?

He just shook his head, shivering, letting his head fall to his knees, and then Steve was touching him, sliding his hand over Eddie’s back in front of everything. Eddie could feel the heat of his skin through the hoodie. He spoke to the floor without lifting his head.

I’m a fucking vampire or something.

And the room was silent, until Nancy spoke again.

Explain?

So he explained.

It’s all fucking insane, but Eddie guesses in the grand scheme of things nothing is fucking insane anymore.

Steve stayed close to him the whole time, his hand on Eddie’s back, and after a while, Eddie reached for his other hand, taking it as he spoke. No one said anything about the way he held it for the rest of the time they were in the living room, playing with Steve’s fingers as he talked about the place he already knew he’d have nightmares about.

He stayed in Steve’s room that night. Neither of them said anything as they found their way toward each other, as Eddie held onto Steve’s arm, as Steve slowly pulled away so he could wrap his arm around Eddie, pull him against his chest.

I’m sorry, Eddie. I—I wanted to bring you back, but— but the gate was—

I know, Steve. ‘S okay.

It was probably better that he didn’t wake up in some morgue in town or something. Better that no one else (especially Steve) had to witness him discover that he’s not human, had to witness him learn how to kill creatures just to drink the blood from their still-warm bodies.

He woke up the next morning with his head on Steve’s chest. He could hear his heartbeat. Steve was playing with his hair, combing through his hair and untangling his curls gently. Eddie could hear some noise downstairs, clattering in the kitchen, steps in the hallway. And it was warm.

It was so, so warm.

There were tears on his skin before he even processed his eyes burning. He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face into Steve’s chest, and tried not to cry, but Steve could feel him shaking, could hear his soft breaths, and Steve slowly sat up, holding Eddie to himself.

It’s okay.

Eddie clutched at him. Gripped his shirt in tight fists, hid his face in his neck.

He sobbed.

Steve was crying too, his arms tight and firm around Eddie, listening and understand him even though his voice was cracking and weak.

It was so cold, Stevie, it was so— it was so cold.

You don’t have to be cold anymore, Eddie.

The sun was shining brightly in Steve’s room. Eddie could feel it on his skin. He’d missed the sun.

They spent almost the whole morning in bed, even though they can hear the others downstairs. Steve kept his arms around Eddie the whole time, until they both stopped crying, until Eddie just sat next to him, leaning against him. Eddie looks at home. Gazed at him. The sunlight hit his eyes in a way that made them glow, and his hair in a way that made strands of it look like golden thread. His eyelashes were clumped together with tears, and Eddie remembered why he always thought Steve had princess eyes.

Steve’s hair was longer than it was when Eddie died. Overgrown carelessly and pushed back, and Eddie’s eyes got caught before he reached up and pushed it up from where it had fallen over his ears. The side of his head was shaved.

Eddie’s eyes widened, and Steve was laughing even before Eddie was sitting up and manhandling Steve’s head to check the other side.

You cut your hair?

Yeah, I… I wanted something different.

…It suits you.

You think?

Eddie nodded. Ran a hand under the overgrown hair and over the shaved part, watched as Steve tilted his head up into the touch. They were quiet for a moment before Steve spoke again.

When my parents left, I… I kinda started acting out. They always cared about keeping appearances, so I… I don’t know. Kinda weird to have a rebellious phase at twenty one.

Is that why your walls look like Polluck paintings and the rest of house looks like a museum?

Robin helped.

I assumed.

Eddie had continued petting his hair. Steve had seemed to like it.

What else?

I, uhm. …You’re gonna laugh.

I won’t laugh.

Even if you say you won’t, you’re gonna.

Okay, I might, doesn’t matter. Tell me.

I… I started listening to, like. Metal and stuff.

Eddie laughed. Steve hit his chest.

How’d that happen?

…I missed you.

That had hurt.

Eddie exhaled and his hand fell from where it was pressed into Steve’s hair, falling to rest on his neck. He could feel Steve’s pulse. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He ignored the desire.

I, uhm… I remembered you mentioned Ozzy, so I went to a music store and asked about it, and…

You like it?

It keeps my head quiet.

Steve had directed him to the other side of his room, where his tapes and records were. Eddie looked through them while Steve watched. Ozzy, Metallica, Dio, Motörhead, Twisted Sister. Eddie’s face had hurt. He hadn’t smiled in a long time.

I kept your vest.

You did?

Yeah. Wore it sometimes when I missed you more than usual.

Eddie wanted to cry again.

Got some t-shirts and shit you might like.

Can I look?

‘Course.

Eddie looked. Carefully rifled through Steve’s shirt drawer. Looked at the worn, probably second-hand t-shirts. Grinned at the Judas Priest shirt and the AC/DC shirt.

You’re a regular punk, aren’t you, Stevie?

Maybe a little. …Maybe more than a little.

What’s that mean?

Steve paused, his cheeks flushing prettily as he shrugged. Eddie just raised his eyebrows, and Steve stared, his jaw working for a moment before he opened his mouth to reveal a metal stud at the centre of his tongue.

Eddie let out a loud What? and rushed across the room to see, dropping the AC/DC shirt, and Steve laughed. Eddie landed on the bed next to him, on his knees, and grabbed Steve’s chin.

Open up. Let me see.

He repressed the urge to tell him what a good boy he was when Steve immediately followed directions. The stud was black, shining. Eddie wanted to touch it. He wanted to spit on it.

Did it hurt?

They shoved a needle through my tongue, Eddie. Yeah, it hurt.

Alright, attitude. Very metal, Stevie.

Thanks.

So that was that.

Neither of them are the same anymore. Eddie’s teeth are a little sharper, his skin a little colder. Steve is a little more rough around the edges.

They figure everything out. It takes some time, but everything gets sorted. The fridge in the garage is stocked with blood at all times for nights that Eddie can’t go out and catch squirrels or deer. They sleep in separate rooms, but immediately find each other in the morning. Eddie leans on Steve’s back while Steve makes coffee in the kitchen. They sit with their legs locked between them under the table. Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s leg while they watch TV or movies together.

Eddie always ends up pulling Steve against himself. Steve always ends up falling asleep.

Steve doesn’t sleep often.

Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep much at night. He doesn’t either, plagued by nights and memories, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of a lamp that sits on the floor.

Steve leaves his bathroom light on night. When Eddie leaves his room to get water he can see the glow of it under Steve’s door, and he wonders what he thinks about late at night. If he stares at the the ceiling like Eddie does. If he sleeps with his blankets wrapped around him tightly. If he gets cold too.

•••••••••••••••Eddie rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket around him tighter. All of his bedding smells like the rest of the house, almost like Steve but not quite. (Steve smells better.)

Eddie hates nighttime. He likes that it’s quiet, that it’s calm, that nothing is really expected of him, but it’s too dark. Darkness is suffocating. Even with a lamp on.

He looks across the room when there’s a shuffle in the hall, looking over his shoulder. He holds his breath.

After a few moments there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Steve?” Eddie says quietly, and the door opens slowly. Steve is still holding the doorknob, his eyes shining, and he looks so tiny it makes Eddie ache. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Steve pauses, blinking at him and taking a breath. He’s wearing a Judas Priest shirt and some shorts, his hair tousled, looking sleepy and pretty. He also looks like he’s going to cry, which Eddie hates, but can’t deny that it also looks pretty. “Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks at him.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. “Are you? What’s happening?”

Steve continues to stare at him, his eyes tracing him almost desperately.

“I just— I had…”

He’s breathing hard, like he’s been running.

“You had a nightmare?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. Eddie pauses, looking at the anxious shine of his eyes, at the way his hands are trembling. “You wanna come over here?”

Steve just steps inside and shuts the door wordlessly, using both hands to make it quiet, like they’re keeping it a secret from the rest of the house. (Which feels like it’s watching them sometimes, if Eddie is honest.)

He sits on the edge of Eddie’s bed, facing the wall, his eyes blankly tracing the posters pinned to the wall. Eddie moves closer to him, watching his chest rise and fall quickly.

“Steve,” he says, sitting cross-legged, facing him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“You were gone,” Steve says quietly, his voice breathy and rough. “We— We were in the Upside Down, and we found—“ he cuts off, taking a small gasp, and Eddie leans closer, placing his hand on Steve’s back gently. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, his breath stuttering in his chest. “We found your body.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, running his hand over his back, catching the folds of the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’m right here.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, and Eddie’s chest clenches. He moves closer, carefully pushing his hand up Steve’s neck into his hair to run over the shaved part, furrowing his brows with Steve takes a gasping, stuttering breath.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “Stevie.” Steve opens his eyes, his expression so pained it makes Eddie’s bones ache. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”

“You died, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. “You were dead, you…”

“I’m alive, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, running his fingers through his hair. Steve just whines, his eyes closing as tears fall. “Hey, I got a heartbeat,” Eddie says quietly. Steve’s eyes open. “You wanna feel it?”

Steve takes a breath, turning to look at him, and he nods.

“Come here, gimme your hand.” He takes Steve’s trembling hand, pulls it toward himself so Steve shifts to face him, and presses it to his own chest, his fingers holding Steve’s hand tightly. He takes a deep breath, and Steve’s eyes watch his chest rise and fall.

“You feel it?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, when Steve’s breath has slowed, and Steve’s hand presses harder, his lips pursing as he frowns, almost pouting, and Eddie tilts his head fondly, almost smiling. Steve’s hand slides up after a moment, over the collar of Eddie’s sweater, until it’s sliding over Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when Steve’s fingers wrap around it, his fingertips pressing into his skin tightly. Steve is still panting, his eyelids fluttering. It takes a moment for Eddie to realise Steve’s fingers are pressing into his pulse.

Steve nods, closing his eyes, breathless.

“I feel it.”

Eddie nods. He can’t breathe. Steve’s hand is hot against Eddie’s skin, holding him tightly.

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, sliding his hand to rest on the side of Steve’s neck. Steve exhales shakily, his fingers tightening, and Eddie thinks he might pass out. His lips part, and his eyes flutter closed before he reaches for Steve’s wrist.

“Steve, you gotta stop.”

Steve’s eyes open and he looks up at Eddie, hurt snd worry shining in his eyes.

“‘S just—“ Eddie tries to fix, squeezing his wrist. “It— This… feels good.”

Steve’s eyes are glazed over, and his fingers shift. He doesn’t let go. His voice is slurred when he speaks.

“If it feels good, why would I stop?”

Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

“Just…” He squeezes Steve’s wrist again, tugs it away. “You had a nightmare, Stevie, you need…”

“Need this,” Steve mumbles, twisting his hand to hold Eddie’s. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s, like he’s trying to see into him.

“I just—“ Steve cuts off, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes shine with unshed tears again. “I just wanna feel your heartbeat, Eddie, please.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. Steve exhales as if in relief, his hand finding Eddie’s neck again, and Eddie wants to cry. “C’mere.”

Steve crawls closer, moving so he can lay against Eddie heavily, taking a shuddering breath.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs softly, wrapping an arm around him and laying down, pulling Steve with him so he lands on top of Eddie, his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Steve giggles softly, his hand tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie exhales sharply, closing his eyes.

“Are you still gonna be here in the morning?” Steve’s voice says quietly.

Eddie pulls him in tighter. He could be sarcastic. That they’re in his room, that he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. But Steve’s voice is so soft, so small and vulnerable, that he can’t.

“Of course.”

•••••••••••••••The others notice it too, that Steve isn’t entirely okay.

Steve insists he’s fine, that everything is under control.

Eddie does what he can to help, cooks and cleans and does everything he can to make sure Steve can relax at home, but it doesn’t really seem to help at all. Steve is always tense, fidgeting anxiously, picking at his skin and lips and nails until he’s bleeding. Eddie reaches over to take his hand, holding it gently to stop him.

Even Robin does it, laying across his lap and holding his hands in her own while they talk.

Eddie’s heart hurts. The skin around some of Steve’s nails is red and raw, his lips cracked.

“I’m just saying, Steve, maybe you should take a break,” Nancy says, watching him cross the room. He’s chewing on a nail, looking at her.

“From what?”

“Steve,” Eddie says softly. Steve shrugs at him, and Jonathan lowers his head to his knees. “Come on—“ He cuts off with a soft breath, stopping himself from saying sweetheart in front of everyone. Argyle looks at him. He can probably tell.

“You just gotta relax, man,” Argyle says, looking away from Eddie. “Smoke some weed or something.”

“I can’t walk around high twenty four-seven,” Steve says, frustrated. “I have— responsibilities, I gotta— I gotta take care of the kids, I’m…”

“Stevie,” Robin says, sitting up from where she’s laying on Eddie’s lap. “We don’t mean to move to Florida or something permanently, just… relax.”

“I’ve tried,” Steve says adamantly. He’s pacing. “I’ve— I’ve smoked, I’ve tried fucking reading books, and listening to music, and I’m—“ Steve cuts off, tossing his hands.

“I can try something,” Eddie says before he can even think, and everyone looks at him. His face burns.

“What?” Steve asks quietly, biting his nail again.

“I…” He looks up at Steve from the sofa, ignoring the others’ stares, and he takes a deep breath. “It��s gonna sound fucked, but there’s… this thing I do when I hunt, that’s…” Steve is staring at him intensely, his eyes shining. “It’s like putting them in a trance, it… calms them down.”

“Like hypnotising them?” Nancy says, and Eddie looks at her. Steve keeps staring at Eddie.

“I guess, but it’s—“ He rubs his cheek anxiously. “It doesn’t have to be weird. It just calms them down so they don’t run away, and it kinda makes me feel better because they’re not scared when they die, but, I mean… Obviously I’m not gonna kill you,” he adds, looking at Steve again, who stares. “But it might… help.”

“Okay.”

Eddie blinks.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Steve says almost breathlessly. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s. “Please.”

“…Okay,” Eddie says softly. “Uhm.”

He stands slowly, standing in front of Steve, his cheeks hot as everyone stares. Steve’s hand lowers from his mouth, and he looks at Eddie anxiously. He looks the same way he looked when he spent the night with Eddie: small and vulnerable and scared, and Eddie’s chest hurts.

“If you… change your mind,” Eddie says softly. “Tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve breathes.

“Okay.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“…Relax, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and his shoulders slump, and then he’s falling.

“Woah.” Eddie catches him as the others shout, and he falls to his knees, holding Steve, looking at his face desperately. “Steve?”

“Oh my god,” Nancy says, standing as Argyle sits up.

Steve exhales heavily, his head rolling as Eddie tugs him carefully into his lap. Robin kneels next to Steve, touching his face worriedly, saying his name.

“Stevie?” Eddie says softly as Nancy and Jonathan look over his shoulder.

“‘M fine,” Steve mumbles without opening his eyes.

“Steve,” Eddie says, finding his hand and holding it. “Can you open your eyes?”

Steve lets out a soft noise that makes Eddie’s breath catch in his throat.

“Steve, open your eyes.”

Steve’s eyes open, and it takes a moment for them to find Eddie above him. They’re glassy and glazed over.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Feel good.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” Robin says quietly, looking up at Nancy, who frowns with a soft, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Argyle agrees. “He’s, like, super vulnerable right now.”

“Yeah, we should go,” Jonathan says when Steve blinks blearily up at Eddie, his fingers shifting on Eddie’s.

“Okay,” Eddie says softly, gazing down at him. Robin gets up and leans down to rustle Eddie’s hair affectionately.

“Take care of him, Eds.”

“‘Course.”

They all leave quietly, Jonathan and Argyle patting Eddie’s back gently as they pass.

“You feel okay, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs when they’re gone. Steve hums a soft mhmm. “Use your words, honey.”

Steve swallows, taking a breath, looking at Eddie with glassy eyes.

“I feel okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I feel so okay.”

Eddie smiles softly, letting go of Steve’s hand and reaching to gently push his hair back.

Steve’s eyes close again, and he’s smiling, his face more relaxed than Eddie’s ever seen him. He traces his fingertips over Steve’s face, over his eyebrows and cheekbones and jawline and the bridge of his nose and his lips. Steve’s lips part as Eddie’s fingertip is trailing over them, and Eddie scoffs, moving to hold his chin.

“You wanna stay here for a while?”

“Please.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

“Mm.”

Eddie moves, letting Steve lift his head off his lap so he can shift to lay on the floor next to him, his arm bent under his head.

“Hi.”

Steve just exhales, blinking at him, smiling softly.

“‘S it okay if I touch you?” Steve lets out a short hum. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Touch me,” Steve breathes. “Please.”

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, moving closer. He reaches out and touches Steve’s face again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he trails his fingertips over his cheek. “Pretty boy.”

He waits for a moment, pushing Steve’s hair back, petting the shaved part gently.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just exhaling and tilting his head so it presses into Eddie’s hand.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, hesitating. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“So good,” Steve says softly. “‘S so quiet.”

“What is?”

“…My head.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” It almost sounds like a moan. “Wanna stay here.”

“Where?” Eddie whispers.

“The clouds.”

Eddie can’t fight his smile, and he carefully drags his nails over Steve’s skin, watching Steve shiver.

“You can stay here for a while.”

Steve closes his eyes.

Eddie can tell that he’s not asleep. He knows what Steve’s breathing sounds like when he’s sleeping, which maybe could be weird, but he doesn’t worry about it.

He keeps trailing his fingers over his hair lightly, gazing at him, tracing his moles with his eyes like he’s stargazing.

He lets him float. Waits for him.

Until Steve sighs, and slowly opens his eyes, blinking at Eddie like he’s waking up.

“Welcome back,” Eddie says quietly.

“Sorry,” Steve says.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie whispers. “Was it nice?”

“Yes,” Steve says without hesitation. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Steve looks like he might cry.

“We can do it again sometime.”

“Can we?”

“Yeah, Stevie.”

“Okay.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Where are the others?”

“They left a little while ago,” Eddie says quietly. “Wanted to give you some privacy.”

“Oh.”

Steve closes his eyes again. Presses his hand up against Eddie’s, holding it to himself.

“Are you comfortable here?” Eddie asks softly. “The floor isn’t too bad?”

“No, ‘s fine.”

“You wanna…” Eddie pauses. “You wanna come closer?”

Steve smiles, and he moves closer, sighing as Eddie lifts his arm to set around him. He tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie almost shivers when he feels Steve’s breath on his skin.

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Like it when you call me that.”

“‘S good, I like calling you that.”

Steve nuzzles into his neck, his hands tucking against Eddie’s chest.

•••••••••••••••They talk about it the next day. Eddie asks if it was okay. If he took anything too far, if Steve was uncomfortable with anything. Steve just smiles. And hugs him.

Tell him that it was perfect, Eds.

They don’t talk about it again.

They don’t really need to.

The others seem to just pick up on it, how something has shifted between them, without anyone saying anything about it. Steve sits closer to Eddie than he used to, leans against him and holds his hand wordlessly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The others all see it. Eddie’s face flushes with heat every time.

He’s started kissing him. His cheeks, his forehead, the top of his head, every time Steve floats away, every time he rests against Eddie and hides his face in Eddie’s neck. It makes Steve smile. The first time Eddie does it, he tucks Steve’s hair back and presses his lips to his cheek, just under his eye, and Steve’s face turns pink even though his eyes are glazed over and he’s swaying.

So Eddie does it every chance he gets. Of course.

He’s not sure what they are.

Eddie’s never even come out to him, and Steve’s never mentioned liking men, but somehow Eddie doesn’t worry about it.

They sleep together more often than not, usually in Steve’s room. Eddie steals Steve’s clothes to wear during the day while he’s gone, and Steve sleeps in Eddie’s t-shirts and sweaters. He leans against Eddie’s back while Eddie plays guitar, humming along, listening.

It seems to get easier for Steve.

It makes Eddie happy, getting to see him relax, getting to see him smile and sigh and laugh at Eddie’s stupid jokes and puns. He still has days, days where he just comes home and curls up on the sofa, hiding his face and staying silent when Eddie tries to talk to him. And he has other days where he comes home and just won’t stop, cleaning and cooking and rambling until Eddie stops him.

Sometimes while he’s floating he holds Eddie’s neck, feeling his heartbeat. It’s nice.

•••••••••••••••“Hey, sweetheart.”

Steve just responds w a soft groan, falling against Eddie’s back. Eddie laughs lightly, looking over his shoulder, pausing with the dishes.

“Long day?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he sighs, and his arms wrap around Eddie’s torso. It makes Eddie’s cheeks heat up.

“Scars have been hurting all day.” He presses his face to Eddie’s shoulder, squeezes, squishing his cheek and muffling his voice. “‘Nd my head hurt for a while at work, ‘n just… nothing was working for me. ‘M tired.”

Eddie finishes with the dishes, leaving a pot full of water so he doesn’t jostle Steve while he cleans it, and he shuts the water off, reaching for the dish towel and drying his hands before he turns around.

Steve hugs him before he can say anything, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulling him close, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, hugging him back tightly. Steve slumps against him. Eddie kisses his temple.

“Alright?”

“Can you put me under?” Steve asks softly, lifting his head.

Eddie kisses his cheek.

“‘Course. Want you to eat some dinner first, though.”

“Okay.”

They eat together at the table, D&D materials pushed out of the way for their plates. Steve tells him more about his day. Eddie admires him across the table. He sits with his legs crossed on his chair, leaning over them so he doesn’t spill anything. (Steve once said he was never allowed to sit like this as a kid.)

Steve changes while Eddie finishes cleaning up. He wants to help, but Eddie refuses to let him.

“How do you wanna do it?” Eddie asks when he’s finished, when Steve is back, wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a Sabbath shirt that Eddie thinks might be his.

“Wanna sit on your lap,” Steve says, his voice already a little slurred. Eddie grins.

“Sofa?”

“Mm.”

Eddie leads him to the living room, their fingers hooked together. Steve gently pushes Eddie to the sofa, and Eddie looks up at him, smiling, but Steve doesn’t sit across his lap the way Eddie expects. Instead, he lowers himself to Eddie’s lap with his knees on either side of his hips. Eddie’s cheeks flush with heat.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly as Steve settles, setting his hands on Steve’s hips gently.

“Hi.”

“This okay?”

Steve’s hands find their places on Eddie’s shoulders, holding him.

“…Take a deep breath for me..” Steve’s eyes flutter shut for a moment as he inhales, his hands loosening on Eddie’s shoulders. “Good boy, one more.”

Steve smiles as he does it again, his cheeks pink.

“There you go,” Eddie murmurs, his thumbs brushing back and forth over his hips. “Do your scars still hurt?”

There’s a moment before Steve shakes his head.

“Your head?”

Another shake.

“Everything’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, his eyes half shut. “I feel good.”

Eddie smiles, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to Steve’s wrist.

“Can I do something?” Steve asks quietly, his eyes glazed.

“Anything.”

Steve smiles softly, his hand sliding from Eddie’s shoulder to his neck, where his fingers wrap gently around his throat. Eddie inhales, his head falling back. Steve’s smile grows, and his fingers tighten.

Eddie’s hands grip Steve’s hips, his eyes locked with Steve’s, and Steve releases him, watching him intently.

“Does that feel good?” he asks quietly, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “It feels good.”

Steve smiles brightly, his fingers tightening again. Eddie exhales sharply, smiling.

“Thought I was supposed to be putting you under,” he mutters. Steve giggles, shifting closer, his fingers loosening, and Eddie bites his lip as heat flushes his cheeks. “What are you smiling at?”

“I can feel your heartbeat.”

“Ah.” He swallows, feeling Steve’s fingers press and rub at his neck. “So you know I’m dying.”

Steve just grins lazily at him, tilting his head almost curiously, his fingers lifting to trace Eddie’s jaw lightly. Eddie slides his hands up his waist, catching the thin fabric of Steve’s (Eddie’s? Their wardrobes are starting to combine.) shirt, and Steve hums.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods, his eyes closing.

“Your hands feel…”

Eddie hums questioningly, squeezing gently as Steve puts his hand back on his throat, his other hand holding the side of his neck lightly, his fingertips in Eddie’s hair.

“Good.”

He squeezes, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He closes his eyes.

He can hear his own heart pounding, can hear Steve’s soft breaths. Steve is heavy on his lap, his weight almost grounding as Eddie’s head fills with clouds. A soft noise escapes Eddie, a weak choked off moan, and Steve giggles again.

And then he’s kissing him, and Eddie thinks he might die.

He doesn’t even open his eyes, just exhales and reaches up to push his fingers into Steve’s soft hair. His head tilts, and his other hand tightens on Steve’s waist, but just as his lips begin to part, Steve pulls away sharply.

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up at him to find him wide-eyed and red-faced.

“‘S wrong?” Eddie asks softly, his hand shifting to Steve’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, his voice heavy. “I didn’t ask, I—“

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay.”

Steve blinks at him, looking like he might cry, and Eddie’s chest tightens.

“You can kiss me,” he breathes. “If you want.”

“I can?” Steve asks in a small voice. Eddie nods, smiling.

Steve stares, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s, and Eddie exhales, leaning up and lifting his chin to kiss him softly. Steve’s breath stutters in his chest, and Eddie holds his face, pulling him closer.

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s neck, and he raises up on his knees as he kisses back desperately, and Eddie’s whole body aches. Eddie’s lips part as he grins, and Steve’s tongue slides between them, tracing his teeth. Eddie clutches at him, his hands gripping his t-shirt and his hips before they find his thighs, squeezing and slipping under the hem of his shorts.

Steve pulls away for a gasp of air, tilting his head and kissing him again so hard their teeth clash. Eddie’s brows furrow, and he sits up straight, his head falling back.

Steve lowers back down to Eddie’s lap, and one of Eddie’s hands slides to the small of his back, tugging him closer as Steve’s teeth catch Eddie’s lip. A whimper escapes Eddie, and his face burns.

One of Steve’s hands slides into Eddie’s hair, gripping it like he’s holding Eddie in place, and Eddie exhales sharply, his jaw dropping enough for Steve to lick into his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasps. His voice is embarrassingly high, breathy and soft, and Steve pulls away. His eyes are shining, his lips red.

“What?”

“I, uhm.” Eddie closes his eyes, breathing hard. “I forgot about your piercing.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses, holding Eddie’s head in his hands. “Should I take it out?”

“No,” Eddie says quickly. “No, don’t, it’s… It’s nice.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. “Okay.”

“Come here.”

Steve kisses him again, catching Eddie’s lip between his own for a moment before he pulls away and looks at him. Eddie encourages him with a gentle tug at his back, and Steve leans back down again.

Eddie relaxes against the sofa when Steve’s hand finds his neck again. He isn’t squeezing, isn’t choking, just holding him almost mindlessly, like it’s where his hand belongs.

Eddie’s brows furrow again, listening to the soft sounds of Steve sucking on his lip, the soft sounds that escape Steve’s throat. He’s almost shivering, chills hovering over his skin like there’s static in the air, and he’s breathing so hard he might start hyperventilating.

“Stevie,” he chokes when Steve releases his lip. (It’s sore. Eddie loves it.) Steve just whines in response, squeezing his neck gently. “I…” He stares, his eyes burning as he looks at Steve’s flushed cheeks, his shiny lips.

“Eddie, please,” Steve chokes, taking short, stuttering breathes. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

“‘S okay,” Eddie breathes, lifting a hand to Steve’s head, pushing his fingers into his hair. “I got you.”

“Please,” Steve whimpers. “Please, please, Eddie, please, I—“

“C’mere,” Eddie mutters, pulling him down and kissing him desperately, biting his lip. “It’s okay, baby, I got you.”

“Please—“ Steve whimpers, his fingers tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie gasps. “Please, I need—“

“Take it,” Eddie says breathlessly, squeezing his leg and letting his head fall back as Steve leans close enough that Eddie is swallowing his breath. “Take what you need, baby, it’s okay.”

He expects Steve to start rolling his hips, or to tear his or Eddie’s shirt off, or to lean in and slide his tongue back into Eddie’s shirt, but Steve just squeezes his neck, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Deep breath, sweetheart.”

Steve inhales deeply, his other hand holding the back of Eddie’s head gently, his fingers wound in his curls.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs. “It’s okay.”

“My parents—“ Steve starts, taking a short breath. Eddie rubs his leg gently, his other hand pressed firmly against his back. “My parents always talked about— about queers.”

Eddie looks into his eyes. They’re swimming with tears.

“About how—“ He cuts off to swallow. “How disgusting they are, and how— how sinful they are, and—“

“Steve,” Eddie whispers. He’s heard the same things. Of course he has. He’s never understood it.

How somehow could hate something as beautiful as love.

“But this…” Steve holds Eddie’s face between his hands. He wipes a tear that Eddie didn’t notice falling from his eye. “I’ve never felt like— like there’s anything wrong with this.”

“There isn’t,” Eddie chokes. “There’s nothing wrong with this, baby.” Steve exhales, his thumbs brushing over Eddie’s cheeks. “Come here.”

Steve leans in and kisses him softly before he pulls away just enough that their lips brush when he whispers.

“I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes open slowly, and pulls away to look at him, his hands holding him.

“…Really?”

Steve swallows, his hands falling to hold the collar of Eddie’s shirt, resting on his shoulders, and he nods. Eddie blinks tears back, letting out a soft laugh.

“Oh.”

Steve hesitates, holding onto Eddie’s shirt, looking across his face.

“Is that okay?”

Eddie laughs again, a tear falling from his eye, and he nods.

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “Yeah, it’s okay, Stevie, oh my god.”

“Oh,” Steve says, relaxing, smiling. “Okay.”

“I love you too,” Eddie says, his chest tight, sliding a hand up to hold the side of Steve’s neck, his thumb resting on his jaw.

“Oh,” Steve says lightly. “That’s…”

Eddie laughs softly, leaning in and letting his head fall against Steve’s chest.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, tugging his hair gently. Eddie hums softly, pressing his hand against the small of his back. “Wanna kiss.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, holding his tighter, and he lifts his head, pressing kisses to Steve’s neck. He can hear his heartbeat, can smell his blood beneath his skin, can almost taste it as he drags his tongue over his pulse.

Steve whimpers, his hand tightening his Eddie’s hair, and then he tugs sharply, pulling Eddie away and leaning down to kiss him so hard it almost hurts.

Eddie groans quietly, slipping his hand under Steve’s shirt to the warmth of his skin, and Steve licks Eddie’s mouth open, breathing hard. Eddie shivers when their tongues slide together, and Steve grins, sliding a hand to Eddie’s throat.

He squeezes gently when he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, and Eddie thinks he might die, letting out a strangled whimper at the pressure, at the smooth slide of the metal stud of Steve’s piercing against the underside of his tongue. There’s a string of spit connecting them when he pulls away, and Eddie is panting, and Steve is grinning.

“Christ, Steve.”

Steve giggles softly, tears still in his eyes, and his fingers tighten gently. Eddie takes a breath, his head falling back.

“Okay?” Steve asks softly.

“Harder.”

Steve squeezes harder, his head tilting curiously as Eddie’s breath catches and he whimpers, letting his eyes close. Steve’s hand is warm, but Eddie shivers anyway. He taps Steve’s back gently after a few moments, and Steve releases him.

“God.”

Steve smiles, his finger brushing up and down his neck so gently it almost tickles.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Eddie is breathing hard, his eyes still closed, and Steve leans down to kiss him, licking into his mouth and sucking on his lip even though Eddie can’t kiss back.

Steve drags his lips across Eddie’s cheek, trailing wet kisses over his skin, until he’s kissing his jaw and just under his ear.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, tilting his head, listening to the wet sounds of Steve’s lips on his skin. He rubs his hand across the small of Steve’s back. Steve hums softly, his lips finding Eddie’s earlobe.

“Should get your ears pierced,” Steve whispers, his breath against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie shivers again, chills running down his spine.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sucks on his earlobe softly, his piercing running across it, and Eddie bites his lip, furrowing his brows. “Would sound so pretty, don’t you think?”

Eddie agrees, tensing as he imagines the soft clicking of Steve’s tongue stud against his earring.

“Shit.” He can feel Steve smile against his skin. “How do you know me so well?” he wonders out loud, his head tilting so Steve can kiss down his neck sloppily, leaving spit and bruises in his path. “Like you know every fuckin’ button I have.”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn, and Steve’s teeth close on his skin gently, nibbling between puffs of hot breath. Eddie slides a hand into Steve’s hair, holding the back of his head gently.

“‘M in love with you too,” Eddie murmurs.

“Fuck.”

Steve licks across his neck, dragging his piercing over his skin, sucking a bruise into his skin before he pulls away and tilts his head to switch sides.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, his hand slipping to Steve’s hip and pulling him closer. Steve hums softly, his teeth digging into Eddie’s skin.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his work, tracing the bruises with a light finger before he falls forward and his forehead presses to Eddie’s.

Eddie closes his eyes, holding him close, breathing him in. He smells masculine and warm, like something Eddie would like to eat. Like home.

“Who would’ve thought?” Eddie murmurs when Steve nudges their faces together. Steve pulls away to look at him, and Eddie gazes at him, admiring the flush of his cheeks, his kissed-red lips. “Ste-e-eve Harrington.”

“Surprised?” Steve whispers, holding Eddie’s face.

“Hm.” Eddie takes a deep breath, gazing up at him. “Honestly, not really.”

“No?”

Eddie reaches up, touching Steve’s face, holding his chin.

“We cuddle almost every night, sweetheart.”

“‘S true.”

Steve holds his hand to his face.

“So you’re my boyfriend?” he asks almost shyly. Eddie smiles, pausing to swallow before he speaks.

“If you want me to be.”

“Yes, please.”

Eddie leans up and kisses him softly.

“You already act like my boyfriend,” Steve says quietly when they part.

“How so?”

Steve leans back, looking at him, his cheeks pink.

“You take care of me,” he says softly, averting his gaze, down to where his legs rest on either side of Eddie’s hips. “Make me feel safe. Make me feel beautiful,” he adds, his voice almost just a breath.

“Come here.”

Eddie kisses him chastely before he wraps his arms around his waist, sighing as Steve hugs him, relaxing against him. Steve tucks his face back into his neck, his breath warm against Eddie’s skin.

They fall asleep on the sofa, after moving to lay down, wrapped completely around each other, with Eddie’s pulse against Steve’s fingertips.

It’s bright when Eddie wakes up, his face covered by Steve’s hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, sighing heavily, moving his hands. They’re resting on Steve’s back as Steve lays on top on his, between his legs.

There’s noise in the kitchen.

Clatter of dishes and soft voices and the scrape of a chair over the tile floor, and Eddie blinks his eyes open, looking up at the ceiling.

Steve makes a quiet noise under him, a sleepy noise that’s rough in his throat, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair. He sits up heavily, pushing himself up over Eddie and looking down at him. His hair falls around their face like a a curtain, blocking the sunlight out, and Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Is that Robin?” Steve grumbles. Eddie pauses, listening, and he hears Robin’s voice, speaking indistinctly, and a soft laugh from Nancy.

“Sounds like it,” he says quietly.

“What are they doing in my house?” Steve mumbles, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s forehead before he gets up, groaning as he stretches.

Eddie follows him to the kitchen, rubbing his face and squinting as sunlight reflects off the white walls. Robin is sitting on a counter, talking as Nancy makes coffee. Argyle is sitting on the dining table, following a joint while Jonathan watches. Nancy sees them first, looking over as they walk in.

“Morning, sleepyheads— Holy shit.”

Robin looks around her and bursts into laughter as Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion. Jonathon looks up at them, his eyes scanning both of them vaguely, unimpressed, and Argyle grins at them.

“Jesus, Steve,” Robin says. “I thought Eddie was the vampire.”

Oh.

Eddie’s face burns as he looks at Steve, whose face is red.

“Shut up,” Steve snaps at Robin, who cackles, and he goes over to smack the back of her head as he reaches into the cabinet behind her to get his medication.

Eddie hesitates in the doorway, watching Steve pop the pills into his mouth and sip from the faucet while trying to avoid Robin’s kicking feet. He pushes his hair back, stepping to Nancy and asking quietly for a hair tie. She’s grinning as she stirs her coffee and she just holds her wrist up for him to take it. He kisses her hand when he does.

After tying his hair up, he goes to sit on the table behind where Jonathan is sitting backwards on a chair, using Jonathan’s head to hoist itself up, and Jonathan laughs lightly.

“Morning, fellas.”

“It’s past noon,” Jonathan says dryly.

“Oh, perfect, ‘s not too early to smoke.”

“It’s never too early, my friend,” Argyle says, handing a joint out to Eddie, who takes it with a smile.

Eddie watches while Steve pours coffee into two mugs, while he scoops the perfect amount of sugar and pours the perfect amount of cream into one of them. He watches while Steve banters with Robin, his cheeks still red, while he dodges her hand that’s reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Steve brings the coffee over to him, greeting Jonathan and standing next to Eddie as he sets the coffee down. Eddie lifts his chin, pulling the joint away from his lips as Steve leans down, and Steve smiles, leaning in until his lips brush Eddie’s.

Eddie blows smoke into his mouth slowly, smiling, and he kisses him before he pulls away. Steve blows the smoke into his face.

Eddie turns to find Argyle gazing at them as he lifts his mug to sip his coffee.

“Dude.”

“I love love,” Argyle says simply, and Jonathan snorts.

“Yeah, me too, man,” Eddie says, lifting his mug.

Steve cooks while Robin and Nancy drink their coffee, and Eddie follows him, sitting on the counter. He watches Robin mindlessly play with the ends of Nancy’s hair while Nancy takes a drag from Argyle’s joint.

Eddie cleans the dishes after they eat, and Steve takes his place on the counter, and Eddie leans against it, between his legs. Steve sets his arms over Eddie’s shoulders while Eddie watches the others laugh and talk across the table. Argyle is telling some story, and Jonathan is hiding his face behind his shirt as he laughs.

“Alright?” Steve asks quietly, leaning down so his mouth is right by his ear. Eddie tilts his head, relaxing against his chest.

“Mhmm.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, his hand moving to trace soft lines over Eddie’s neck for a moment before it stops and presses into a spot that’s no doubt bruised red or purple. Eddie bites his lip, his cheeks flushing as it hurts, and he wants to let Steve do it harder, but he smacks his hand away, and Steve giggles.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Eddie shakes his head fondly, looking back at him as Steve leans forward and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Eddie says softly. Steve’s fingers run over the back of his exposed neck before he hugs him.

“I love you too.”

Steve buries his face in Eddie’s neck, kissing him gently, and Eddie’s hands find Steve’s forearms, holding him and smiling, his eyes fluttering shut before Robin’s voice says loudly, “Oh my god.”

Steve laughs without lifting his head, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie opens his eyes, laughing when he finds her staring at them.

“You guys were already insufferable with the PDA.”

Steve laughs again, looking up and setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to deal with it, Buckley,” Eddie says dryly. “I’ve got a hot boyfriend, I’m not gonna keep my hands off him.”

She just gives him an immense eye-roll, and Nancy grins, her eyes sparkling as Steve hides his face back in Eddie’s neck.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Argyle says, giving them a nod of approval.

“Thanks, Argyle.”

“Wait, does this mean your guest room is up for grabs now?” Robin asks, leaning so she can see them both around Nancy.

“Uh.” Steve hums a soft mhmm into his neck, and Eddie grins. “Let me take my posters and shit and yeah.”

“Nice.”

She moves in the next week. She often joins Steve in napping on Eddie.

tagging: @allbimyself26 @th3-r4t-k1ng @marvelmwah @papermachedragons @symbioticsimplicity @hereissananxiousmess @telidina @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @messrs-weasley @suikatto @fandemonium-takes-its-toll thank you all sm <3

and just bc i thought everyone might wanna know, the person that tweeted the post that inspired this also wrote something based on it too!! you can find it here :)

#ta da #i already have another wip for them #not including the ficlet series thing i’m doing #:)#steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

353 notes · View notes