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lexirosewrites · 3 months ago

Note

That post about Steve getting bitched and still having a huge cock gave me brain rot so here's this. (This got so long my B)

After Steve gets bitched he is extremely self conscious about the size of his dick. His doctor said it was possible, but rare, for the penis not to retract to typical cocklet size after the transition. The doctor says surgery is an option, but it will take Steve years to save up for the procedure so he resigns himself to (still) being a little uncomfortable in his body for a little longer.

Steve doesn't have sex for almost six months after his transition. His hormones need time to balance, he's sore for almost a full month after, and he doesn't necessarily trust anyone around him that he's attracted to not to comment on his dick. The knot is gone, but he doesn't feel like he looks like a "proper" Omega still.

One night he goes out with Robin and meets a friend of a friend who's very pretty and who's aura and sent are incredibly calming. They flirt a little, Steve doesn't think he's ever met someone as chill as Argyle, and they head back to Argyle's place to have easy, fun sex. Argyle makes him feel confident, and he never coments on the size of Steve's dick like he's always worried people, and especially Alphas, will.

Afterward, Argyle says that Steve is "totally bodacious" and explains that him and his best friend (Jonathan) run a small but successful queer skin magazine, and would he be interested in doing some photos with them? At first Steve is shocked, even brings up the whole Giant Penis thing, doesn't really think many people would be into that, but Argyle gives him a comically sincere look and says "oh yeah my guy. People are gonna love it."

So Steve says fuck it. He doesn't have regular work right now and Argyles figure for the first shoot is more than fair. They hammer out details that night. Argyle doesn't date their subjects, which is a little disappointing but not heartbreaking for Steve. And Steve doesn't want his face to be published anywhere. He's also not sure about having sex, wants to focus on single person shots.

Steve figures he won't have much success, but to his surprise, the issues featuring Steve are the ones they sell the most copies of. He didn't know it at the time, but the first shoot be did with them ended up being used for the next month's cover page. It was a rather simple shot, more nude than he thought he'd get at a first shoot but Jonathan and Argyle made him feel very comfortable. He's standing in front of a dark, non descript couch, completely bare. His hands are clasped behind his back. He had been swaying forward and backward on the balls of his feet looking very much like a Good Boy eagerly waiting for direction from his Dom. And, of course, his pussy had been slicked up with artificial slick and a little bead of artificial precome was just being to slide down his length. Seeing the photo, Steve began to feel confident in his body for the first time in a long time.

So, he kept working with the studio, making good money on the side of his other gigs.

Photos of Steve in panties that do nothing to cover his dick. Photos of Steve from behind on his hands and knees, pussy slicked up and dick visible from between his legs. Eventually, a photo of Steve with just the tip of his cock in another Omega's pussy. They didn't really have sex, which was Aokay with Steve since it still felt uncomfortable with having sex someone for work purposes, but he was particularly fond of those photos, thought they turned out really well.

All the shoots were still artfully framed or cropped to omit Steve's face though.

Of course, unknown to Steve, local Alpha Eddie Munson has been hoarding his pictures like a greedy dragon. Eddie has been a long time subscriber to the magazine, but he's never come so hard in his life as he did to that first photo of Steve. The pretty pussy, the perfectly placed moles and freckles, the HUGE fucking cock. Eddie's never wanted an Omega to fuck him so bad in his life, or want to fuck one so hard for that mater. His absolute favorite is one of Steve's earlier pictures. It's simple, Steve reclined back on his elbows, knees bent and open to show off his panty clad pussy. There not just any panties though, they're female Omega/Beta panties. They cling to him like a second skin and barely cover the first two inches of his dick, making it look even bigger than it already is. Eddie buys five copies.

One day, they run into each other at the grocery store of all places. Eddie accidentally bumps into Steve, causing him to drop his basket and blow up his tomatoes. Eddie is already getting ready to apologize to the stranger when Steve turns around and Eddie is faced with the most beautiful Omega he's ever seen. He immediately starts tripping over himself to help him replace anything broken in his basket and once they get through check out asks if he can take Steve out after they drop their groceries off at home. Steve, absolutely charmed by this Alpha's looser energy and leathery sent says yes.

Yadayadayada they have a fantastic date and decide to take it back to Steve's place. Things are getting steamy but as soon as Steve gets his shirt and pants off Eddie immediately knows who he is and comes in his half unbuttoned pants like some kind of pavlova response because Holy Shit. He's so embraced for shooting off and also completely mortaphied at the prospect of telling Steve he's been hoarding his pictures like a creep that he panics and bolts without a work.

By the time he's back home Eddie is absolutely kicking himself because the man of his dreams was literally RIGHT THERE and he screwed it up! Steve, of course, is incredibly disappointed. He felt a real connection witn Eddie and because be didn't say anything, he's pretty sure Eddie got freaked out by his body and literally ran for the hills

Of course they find each other again and Eddie apologizes profusely and begs for the chance to court Steve. Steve is a little nervous but he says yes, especially once Eddie explains why he freaked out and assures him that he doesn't want Steve to stop. He even comes to a couple of the shoot, acting as an unintentional fluffer for Steve.

Eventually, Steve stops doing it as often as he finally finds a stable job as a climbing instructor in town that he loves, but he never stops completely. He loves the confidence it gives him and thinks it's fun! It doesn't hurt how much his mate loves his pictures too.

OMFG THIS IS SO HOT I CANT😩🥵😳🤯🫠��‍💨

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #anon asks

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kennahjune · 11 months ago

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Trauma bond? No. Bro bond.

Was having Steve and Lucas bro bond thoughts that accidentally turned into Steve whump.

…

Steve and Lucas bonding over sports more than anyone realized they ever would.

Like yeah, everyone knew Steve played basketball and was on the swim team in high school; that was practically his entire personality for a bit. But they never realized how much he actually /liked/ the sports.

Until he was geeking out with Lucas over a new play they’d thought of.

It was odd for them all to see Steve so excited. They watched on from their seats on the front porch steps. Eddie and Jonathan each had a beer, the both of them sharing a blunt with Argyle. Nancy and Robin sat on the steps below them, watching on while Steve and Lucas payed them no mind from the driveway.

It was almost comical— how the moment Lucas showed up on his bike Steve was up in an instant. After confirming it was indeed not a code red, Steve was quick to join Lucas. Especially after being told it was basketball related.

Steve had kicked his own beer over in his haste to get up.

Now Steve and Lucas were in the driveway, the garage door down (to prevent damage to the cars) and the Harrington’s basketball hoop out. Both were blissfully unaware of the eyes following them. Well, the eyes following /Steve/, it was more like.

Circling back the earlier thought; they’d never seen him to engaging in something. So excited. So…happy.

Which was really sad to think about.

“I’ve never seen him so excited over something,” Nancy said, speaking everyone’s thoughts.

Well. Except Argyle’s, it seems. “Nah, man. He gets like this anytime he starts talking about sports. We were watching a soccer game on TV last night and he was like— totally freaking out! Waving his hands around and talking a mile a minute.”

He took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Eddie, unaware of how he just tilted everyone’s worlds.

“Wait—“ Eddie took a drag and his voice was strained while he kept in the smoke “—he actually talks to you about that shit?”

Argyle hummed and looked at Eddie oddly. Eddie blew the smoke out and held Argyle’s eye.

“Yeah dude. All the time. Might help that I played volleyball back in Cali but— really, I just like hearing him talk. And I think he likes talking. He talks a lot.”

Argyle was getting extra talkative now, his sentences becoming shorter and more frequent. That’s how you knew he was high enough to not care.

“He’s never really been that talkative,” mumbled Robin, a sudden kind of dread settling uncomfortably in her chest.

Argyle shrugged. “Maybe you don’t talk about what he likes to talk about. He likes talking about sports. And romance books. He reads a lot of romance books.”

Well isn’t that something, Eddie thought. Steve Harrington likes to read.

(It brought up a distant memory from high school, from Steve’s sophomore year and Eddie’s junior year. Back before “King Steve” meant “jackass”.

“Well well, looky here, fellas! King Steve is gracing us peasants with his presence.” Eddie called mockingly to the young man sitting at the table in the library.

Steve— only 15 at the time, not 16 for another couple of months— looked up from his book with furrowed brows and a pout on his pretty pink lips. A pout that 21 year old Eddie would come to love.

Steve hadn’t done to much in the interaction. He more or less sat in silence while Eddie went on and on about something he couldn’t remember now.

When Steve had gotten up from the table, he doggy-eared his page (like a monster) and tucked the book under his arm. Eddie saw the title only briefly, “Forever Amber”.)

“Do we really never talk about his interests?” asked Jonathan to the sky, his head tilted up while he blew the smoke away.

They all startled when a series of shouts and laughs came from Lucas and Steve in the driveway. Eddie looked over in time to watch Steve pull Lucas in for a hug where they both patted each others backs aggressively. Eddie’s seen the guys do that at games. Some kind of weird bro-hug.

Eddie continued to watch when Steve bent down to pick up the rolling basketball. Eddie’s mind went other places quick enough when Steve pulled his shorts up a little higher. Robin smacked his calf.

“Seriously, you guys never talk to him about sports?” Argyle asked, flabbergasted. And I suppose he had every right to be. These were some of Steve’s closest friends. His boyfriend and his best friend! And they never got to listen to Steve rant about a particular basketball game from high school? About some specific swimming stroke and how it helped him win swim competitions?

They were seriously missing out.

Robin hung her head in shame and thought about it, her eyes misting over the more she realized that— yeah, she never talked to Steve about sports. Let alone his other interests. (Did he have other interests? That fact that she had to ask this question made her want to cry and hug Steve.)

Robin picked her head up and propped it in her hands. She looked on with everyone else as Steve and Lucas cheered about something or other.

Steve tossed Lucas the ball in the driveway. He bent himself at the knees and placed his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily.

“Alright, Sinclair. Hit me.” he smirked.

He and Lucas had been tossing the ball back and forth for close to an hour now, both excited to get this play right. Lucas dribbled the ball three times on the ground quickly before he set into motion.

Steve cut him off to the left, but Lucas swerved to the right so fast he nearly toppled himself over. Steve turned and jumped in front of him just in time to body slam him slightly. Not nearly as rough as he could’ve been, holding back because they were outside on concrete and Steve wasn’t going to be responsible for a concussion.

The ball rolled away into the grass, unnoticed while Steve gave Lucas a hand and pulled him up.

Lucas was taking heaving breaths, and for a scary moment Steve was worried he’d slammed him too hard and knocked his lungs around. It’s possible. That’s why Steve himself had an inhaler in the drawer closest to his bed.

But then Lucas was laughing, and soon Steve was to.

“Dude! How’d you do that? I’ve never seen anyone move like that man!” Lucas praised over his heavy breathing. Steve chuckled and took his own deep breaths.

He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, grabbed the ball, and steered him towards the porch. “Plant your feet next time.” He felt a ping of anger and sadness at the words, but tramped it down.

It was only when he’d reached the porch with Lucas that Steve realized they were alone outside. Had everyone gone inside? Did sports seriously bore them so much that they just up and left? The thought made something bitter churn in Steve’s gut.

Whatever.

He led Lucas through the door and dropped the basketball on the porch by the door. It was muddy and his floors were going to remain white for as long as possible thank you very much.

They both left their shoes by the door and traveled to the kitchen, Lucas talking about how fast he’d ducked and wanting to know what Steve meant by planting his feet. Steve agreed to another playing session the next day with a grin. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed what he did.

He tossed Lucas a bottle of water from the fridge and made sure the kid drank it all. They sat with each other at the counter for a minute, Steve idly sipping his water and listening to Lucas’ still heavy breaths.

“Damn, I still can’t catch my breath man.” Lucas laughed lightly.

Steve smiled and set his water down.

“Wait here, don’t do anything stupid.”

Lucas gave him a two finger salute as he walked off upstairs. Steve was sure to avoid the living room and was quick to grab the aforementioned inhaler from his drawer. He jogged back into the kitchen and sat next to Lucas one more.

“Ok, so I’m assuming you know what an inhaler is.”

Lucas nodded, staring at the inhaler in Steve’s hand oddly.

“I don’t have asthma,” Lucas said matter-of-factly.

Steve chuckled. “And neither do I. But there are times where you get knocked around too much or too hard, and it can rattle your lungs. I found that out the hard way when I was 14 and had my first asthma attack. My lungs had rattled so much they got trapped between my ribs and my mom had to take me to the hospital.”

Lucas winced. “Seriously? How the hell did you manage that?”

My dad got a little too rough, Steve thought. But decided against saying that, obviously. He smiled and shook his head. “Not important.”

Steve uncapped the inhaler and gave it a good shake. “Ok, I’m assuming you know at least a little about using one of these but one things for sure, you’ve gotta fix your posture.”

Lucas immediately straightened his back.

Steve went on explaining about how curling into yourself like that basically compressed your lungs and made breathing harder.

He held the inhaler to Lucas’ mouth and instructed him to breathe in and hold it for as long as he felt he could before releasing slowly.

Lucas did as instructed, and after no more than two puffs Steve instructed him to simply keep his back straight and take deep breaths through his nose and to release slowly through his mouth.

Lucas left on his bike a few minutes later with a few snacks and an extra bottle of water in his bag. Steve told him to talk to his parents about getting him a medical inhaler if he planned to stick out basketball for all of high school. Steve knew how aggressive those kids could be, and while it wasn’t always necessary it was helpful.

When he closed the door behind Lucas he went straight to the living room.

Where apparently everyone had relocated.

“Uh.. hey?” Steve waved pathetically. He had really no idea what to do with the 5 pairs of eyes on him.

“Ok? Um— seriously why are you all looking at me like that? It’s fucking freaky.” Steve curled in on himself a little, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders.

Robin was the first to shoot out of her seat on the couch. Steve was given no warning before he was engulfed in a hug.

“Oh? Ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “What happened, Robs? You alright?” he asked from where his face was tucked into her neck.

She nodded, but it was obvious something was wrong.

When Robin let go she dragged Steve by the wrist to the couch and sat with him. He looked at everyone else settled in the living room and raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t like— an intervention or something, right?” he tried to joke. Argyle seemed to find it funny at least. Steve smiled at him where he sat on the floor by the coffee table.

Then there was an arm wrapping around his waist from the side Robin wasn’t pressed against and Steve wasted no time leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“What’s up with you guys, huh? You’re quiet and it’s scary. I don’t like it.” Steve muttered the last part under his breath and more to himself. But Eddie squeezed his hip reassuringly.

“Nothing’s up, baby. How was everything with Lucas?” Eddie asked. Steve barely gave himself time to pause before he answered, “Good. He’s been moving a lot faster lately.”

He bit his tongue against the slew of words he wanted to spill about everything they’d done in that hour they’d been outside. Instead he said,

“Sorry. Totally ditched you guys for the ball.” He chuckled, trying to take the weight of the words off some. Eddie tutted.

“Don’t apologize, Steve. You looked like you having fun.” Came Nancy’s unexpected reply. Steve’s head shot up to look at her before traveling back to Argyle, who gave him a vague “go on” gesture with his hand.

“Uh..” He pulled his eyes back to Nancy. “Yeah, had a lot of fun. Um— you guys alright?”

Jonathan groaned and Steve watched Nancy hit him on the arm. They had a whole argument with their eyes before Nancy deflated. What the hell?

“Steve.” Jonathan started. Steve flinched slightly and didn’t relax when Eddie squeezed his hip.

He braced himself for the laughs, the jeers. Them telling him they didn’t care that he had fun and that they had to go.

“We’re sorry.”

Steve blinked. You’d think an apology that sounded so heartfelt would lower his inner walls a bit, but it only served to raise them higher. Because—

“What the fuck? Why?”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and let Nancy take the lead this time.

“For brushing you off.”

Steve blinked, his inner walls no longer rising but not lowering either.

“For not showing that we cared whenever you started talking about your sports and things.” Was Robin’s add-on from beside him.

Steve flinched and made to get up but remembered he was kind of held down by both Robin and Eddie.

“So this is an intervention? Guys it’s fine, seriously—“

“No. It’s not. Stop talking for a second and let us be sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie’s grip tightened again and Steve tried to find comfort in it like he normally did, but he was so uncomfortable right now it was unbelievable.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been apologized to. Not like this. Not with such sincerity.

It scared him, honestly.

“We’re sorry we didn’t bother trying to show interest in anything you did even though you always made sure to show interest in ours,” was how Eddie finished.

“Even with all the teasing you add in.” Chuckled Jonathan.

Steve found a bit of the comfort he was searching for.

He cleared his throat. “Um ok— so—“

“Not done.” Demanded Nancy.

Steve shut up.

“We’re sorry that we made fun of your interests and maybe made you feel like you couldn’t share your thoughts and feelings with us in fear of getting ridiculed.”

And good God if that wasn’t right on the money.

Steve swallowed against the tears that threatened to mist over his vision.

He laughed quietly instead. And maybe he looked like he was going insane but Jesus Christ— he couldn’t take this right now. He was not expecting a fucking apology after an hour of playing basketball.

What the fuck has his life turned into?

“Ok— done now?” he asked. And when nobody spoke up against him he continued.

“So um— thanks? For the apology? I guess— I guess I just don’t understand. Why are you guys apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?”

That got him a chorus of groans that made him curl into himself more. He hung his head and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer, a nervous habit he’d developed in middle school.

“Steve.” Robin gently said. “We have every reason to apologize and fucking grovel.”

Steve wasn’t given a single moment to protest.

“Sweetheart, what did you do yesterday when I was talking about my campaign?”

Steve looked at Eddie funny. “Dude I don’t know— I think you started talking about it while I was cooking?”

Eddie nodded. “And then you told me to hold on while you put the lasagna in the oven so you could give me your full attention.”

Steve blinked dumbly, not quite getting it.

“That’s the bare minimum, Ed. You were talking about something you really liked so I made sure you knew I was listening.”

And oh wow. It just dawned on him.

“Exactly, honey. None of us— except Argyle, apparently— have been giving you the attention you deserve even though you give us yours no matter what.”

“Steve you listened to me drone about types of cameras and film last week for three hours and didn’t complain once. I know for a fact that shit was boring to listen to because I’ve been told so by both Will and El numerous times.”

Steve stared at Jonathan.

“Ok, sure. But I don’t see— I don’t get— I don’t care that you guys don’t listen to me. Sports are complicated and yeah sure it kind of hurts when you scoff as if it doesn’t mean shit—“

Eddie’s grip tightened considerably.

“—but it— I get it. You guys aren’t obligated to listen to my shit. I listen to you guys because I want to. Because I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like Nancy and that new article for the school paper about the different recipe for the meatloaf that makes it taste like dirt, apparently. Or how Polaroid cameras actually date all the way back to like— 1948. Or—“

“But that’s the thing, Steve.” Nancy cut him off. “You listen to these things and remember them because you want to. Because you’re a good friend and good friends listen. We—“ he waved her hand around to all of them “—have not been good friends.”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat while Nancy continued.

“The fact that you remember my exact words of calling the meatloaf dirt just proves that. Because we had that conversation, what? A month ago?”

“Three weeks ago.” Me mumbled uselessly.

Nancy sighed.

Robin sat up and took Steve’s face in her hands. “Stevie. We love you. So let us.”

And just like that, Steve was engulfed in a giant group hug.

He didn’t realize how much it’d affected him before now. How being scoffed at and made fun of— even if it was playful— hurt him so much that he’d just stopped talking about things.

When they pulled away Eddie kissed his forehead and Robin kissed his cheek. Steve giggled at the sudden affection.

…

Bonus:

The very next day, Steve saw the change.

Saw the change in how Eddie made sure to ask him about what he was cooking and then let Steve explain the process of a breakfast casserole. How Eddie simply smiled and even engaged with questions as if he was really interested. And maybe Steve didn’t completely believe he was interested, but that was ok. He’d come to his senses eventually.

Then at work Robin made a point to let him choose what they put on the TV for the day and didn’t even complain when he chose the Breakfast Club.

He was scared that they change would last no more than a week. That after some time they’d all go right back to how it was before.

But then a week passed. And two. And three. And then months we’re going by where Steve was allowed to rant and talk and argue about things like cooking and baking and basketball and soccer and volleyball and so much more because they would listen.

And then a year passed and it was April and it was his birthday and when he was surrounded by everyone— the kids, the older teens, even the adults— he opened a present and looked down at the book in his lap.

“Forever Amber”.

Steve will never admit to the tears that he cried that day.

…

Probably gonna do something like this with Lucas and the kids cause I love Lucas ❤️

Here’s that lol:

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rainylana · 2 years ago

Text

“Something you wanted.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.

Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!

“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.

“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”

You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.

“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”

“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”

Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.

“What are those for?”

You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”

“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”

“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.

“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”

Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.

“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.

Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.

“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.

Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”

He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.

“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.

“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”

“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”

“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”

You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.

“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.

“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”

“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”

Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”

“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.

Eddie hurried to catch up.

“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”

“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”

“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”

It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.

“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”

You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.

“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.

Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.

“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.

“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”

You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”

“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.

“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”

And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.

Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”

“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”

This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.

“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”

Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”

You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”

Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #soft eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie stranger things #eddie blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #christmas eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons

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loulovingho · 4 months ago

Note

Prompt: Tommy's first birthday with Evan and he's turning 40

I'm sorry this took so long I think about things too much!

Buck had asked when Tommy's birthday was when they first started dating, kept it held tight in his memory bank until he could write it in his calendar, and began planning before they'd even gone on more than four dates. His birthday was still months away at that point, but somehow Buck knew he was in it for the long haul.

Over those few months, as their relationship turned more into a partnership, Buck learned that Tommy never really had birthday parties growing up. His mom would buy him a donut that morning and put a candle in it, sing to him quietly in the kitchen while his dad was nursing a hangover in the living room, and then he'd unwrap a comic book that his mom would save up to buy.

Every birthday after seventeen was spent alone, or at work, and he never mentioned it to anyone.

That meant that his 40th birthday had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect from start to finish.

Tommy had told him he didn't expect or even want anything, but Buck had made him promise he'd request the day off.

Tommy rarely said no to anything Buck asked.

Buck made sure Bobby scheduled everyone off for that day as well.

What he didn't expect was that Jee would get sick, and give whatever flu bug she had to Maddie and Chimney.

Or that Denny would break his leg playing soccer and Hen would be spending the night in the hospital.

Or that Christopher would call Eddie and ask him to fly to El Paso and bring him home.

Bobby had to cancel too. A pipe burst in May's apartment and they had to go move her into a new place.

A couple of Tommy's friends had last minute things come up too, leaving Buck to cancel on the remaining few that could make it. It would have been really lame to do all he had planned with only four or five people present.

On the morning of Tommy's birthday, Buck rolled over to see Tommy sleeping soundly beside him. His hair was all ruffled up, mouth hanging slightly open. His chest rose and fell peacefully.

So damn cute, Buck thought.

He'd broken the news to him yesterday afternoon. All the surprises he had planned had to be cancelled on the count of him having the worst luck in the world. Tommy had laughed, his face scrunched in that adorable smile that Buck could never resist. He brought Buck close to him, promised him, “Evan, I don't need anything or anyone but you.”

Still, Buck knew he could make the day just as special without anyone else. He started by quietly slipping out of bed, pulling on his boxers before heading to the kitchen.

When Tommy woke up twenty minutes later, it was to the smell of pancakes and bacon, his favorite breakfast.

“What's all this?” Tommy asked, a smile on his face. His hair was still a mess, he had on basketball shorts that he had tossed off the night before, and a very tight white shirt on that was most definitely Buck's. Buck loved getting to see him like this. Loved that he wasn't always so put together like everyone else thought he was.

“It's birthday breakfast,” Buck answered, bringing a plate of pancakes to the table before walking over to Tommy and wrapping him in his arms. He pressed a kiss to his lips, tasting the minty mouthwash Tommy had just used. “Happy birthday, babe,” he whispered once they parted.

Another kiss, Tommy moaning a little “Mm” into it this time, the way he always did when he felt overwhelmed by Buck's love. “Thank you.”

Reluctantly, he let Buck go so he could go get the bacon. Coffee was already on the table, steam still rising from the cup. Tommy sat down a took a sip.

Just the way he liked it.

“You didn't have to do this for me, Evan,” he said once the bacon was at the table and Buck was seated beside him.

“I wanted to. Now, eat up. Busy day ahead.”

After breakfast they both went to get dressed, but ended up a bit distracted. Usually Buck would be beside himself being thirty minutes behind schedule. Especially when he had spent the entire previous day planning every moment on a clipboard he had found mysteriously hidden behind the couch.

Turns out, Tommy was very excited about his breakfast pancakes and Buck couldn't find it in him to care that they weren't going to be on time.

Once they finally got dressed and out the door, they headed to the zoo. Tommy had mentioned before that he'd never been, and Buck had been determined since that day to make sure he got in a visit.

After the zoo was The Getty. It was a bit of a drive, but that didn't matter. Buck had learned two months into their relationship that Tommy was an incredible artist. He didn't make much time for it, but when he did, he put his all into it. Even when Buck didn't quite understand what Tommy had painted, he loved it. It was beautiful, because it meant something to Tommy, and that's all that mattered.

There was a late lunch after that, at one of their favorite cafe's. They sat outside and enjoyed the breeze while they sipped on lemonade and shared sandwiches.

Last was a hike. Nothing strenuous. It was more of an excuse to walk side by side, holding hands and chatting. Buck loved doing that. Loved that Tommy didn't shy away from affection. Loved how their hands fit together just perfectly, swinging between them with each step.

After that, they headed home for a movie night. Love, Actually was first, with whatever else Tommy wanted after that.

“Evan,” Tommy stopped him as they entered their house.

“Yeah?” Buck asked, turning to him.

Tommy lifted a hand to Buck's face, his thumb stroking his cheek gently. “Today was incredible.”

“You sure? I know it wasn't-”

“Ev. Incredible,” Tommy repeated.

Buck smiled, relief washing over his face. “It was, wasn't it?”

Tommy pulled him in for a kiss, stepping back until Buck was pressed up against the door.

Before it could get too heated, Buck patted his chest and Tommy reluctantly pulled away.

“There's something else for you,” he said, sliding away from Tommy and heading into the kitchen.

“Hun, I don't need anything else. You already did too much.”

“Just one more thing.” Buck got a rectangular, white box out of the fridge. Tommy wasn't sure how he'd hid it, but it was the first he'd seen of it. He walked closer, standing across the counter from Buck as he set the cake box down.

“You got me a cake, too?!” Tommy asked, his voice filled with something Buck could only describe as child-like glee.

“Of course I did.” He lifted the lid to show Tommy a beautifully decorated chocolate and vanilla marble cake, with 'Happy 40th Birthday, Tommy' written on it. “It was too late to cancel and order a smaller one,” he said as Tommy stared down at it in wonder, “so it feeds thirty people, but we can freeze it.”

“It's perfect,” Tommy said softly. He looked up at Buck, eyes wide and wet, “This whole day... perfect."

Evan walked around the counter and pulled Tommy close, resting his head in the crook of Tommy's neck, pressing a kiss there. “I love you, Tommy.”

Tommy ran his hands up and down Buck's back, a happy sigh escaping him. “I love you, Evan.”

*****

They were both very pleasantly surprised one week later when, thinking they were going to Bobby and Athena's for a simple dinner, they opened the door to be greeted with a beautifully decorated house. Tons of balloons and streamers all around. All their friends and family there, shouting surprise as they stood under a huge 'HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TOMMY' sign. A cake was rolled out with forty candles, and written on it was 'Someone call a firefighter!'

Tommy had to fight back the tears in his eyes. In one week he'd gone from never having a birthday cake in his life, to having two.

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #i get to the prompts eventually i just suck at writing and letting them go #sorry for the delay!

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augustjustice · 10 months ago

Text

Chemistry, History, and Shared Trauma

AO3 Link

The day Eddie’s released from the hospital, he’s packed up into Steve’s BMW and driven straight to the Harrington mansion.

The government agents are still in the process of doing the whole song-and-dance routine required to clear Eddie’s name, so laying low is ideal. There hasn’t been time to relocate Wayne to a new trailer–something Owen promises is happening, though Eddie will believe it when he sees it–and a hotel room isn’t really a great place to recover, especially considering the state Eddie finds himself in.

When the question of where exactly he was going to go had come up, Steve had volunteered all too quickly.

“You can stay with me,” he had said, easy as pie, like it was nothing. “My parents aren’t home, and, besides…it’s not like anybody’s going to be looking for you there.”

Though Eddie had tried to protest, quick to say that he didn’t want to put Steve out, his jock savior wouldn’t hear a word of it.

So, the next day, Steve had shown up to the hospital early, signed all the appropriate paperwork, and then wheeled Eddie out into the parking lot whistling some upbeat, poppy tune Eddie didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of recognizing–but still found oddly endearing, in spite of himself.

And that had been that, Steve hauling Eddie’s cane out for him under one arm and his bag of meds in the other once they pull up in front of the Harringtons’ house, ready to put Eddie up in the guest room next to his like he’d belonged there all along.

Eddie’s mobility is still pretty limited–hence the cane and the wheelchair now sitting in the Harrington’s den–but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bold (and stupid) enough to try to make his way up the stairs on his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve scolds, catching Eddie around the waist as he wavers on his feet a little, clearly being careful of the open wounds on his stomach and torso. “Hold on, just…hold on, man.”

“You got me, big boy?” Eddie teases.

The flirtatious call back is a diversion, an attempt to cover up the embarrassment of having to be this damn reliant on…well, literally everyone around him, but Steve in particular from here on out.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you,” Steve says, tone nothing less than perfectly sincere.

Eddie deliberately ignores the way his stomach gives a little swoop in response.

So he leans on Steve heavily as they make their way to the next story of the house, close enough to get a faint whiff of Steve’s cologne, a surprisingly sweet mix of amber, vanilla, and something a little fruity tickling his nose. Once they’re finally inside, though, Eddie does manage to hold himself upright long enough for a quick look around, taking in the digs he’s going to be sleeping in.

The room itself is almost sterile in its cleanliness–neat military precious corners on the bed, devoid of the usual clutter Eddie associates with home. The blue floral pattern that covers the walls is bizarrely identical to the fabric of the curtains, the repetition almost comical, when he thinks about the uniformity of all the houses that line the street. It’s the kind of detail that would be called too ‘on the nose,’ if written into a book.

Eddie’s surprised to find a few exceptions to the cold tidiness, however, and even more surprised those exceptions come in the form of a stack of fantasy novels stashed inside the bedside table and a couple of action figures tossed in one corner.

Following his gaze, Steve turns from where he’s ‘tidying up’ what can only be an imaginary mess perceptible to the eyes of babysitting monster hunters and babysitting monster hunters alone, Eddie guesses. He gives Eddie a wry look.

“Dustin stays over sometimes,” he explains, “the other rugrats, too, but it’s still mostly his stuff that winds up here. Leaves his shit all over the place.”

There’s a fondness to Steve’s smile that undercuts the annoyance in his words.

Eddie thinks back to the months and months Dustin spent talking Steve up to him. How even then it never really occurred to him just how close they might be. It’s strange to think, now, that though Eddie’s spent nearly a whole school year as DM for Steve’s nerdy band of babysitting charges, their paths had rarely ever crossed, beyond glimpses and a handful of long forgotten words exchanged, before that nightmare of a Spring Break. Almost like their lives have been running in some kind of strange parallel, fated to collide, without either of them even noticing it.

Eddie’s not exactly sure how to phrase the feeling that comes over him at the thought, so instead he says, “I can’t believe we’re best friends with a fourteen year old, man.”

“God, tell me about it.”

Eddie takes a few stumbling steps forward and sits down on the bed, honestly a bit proud of himself he manages it with as much grace as he does. As he settles in, he catches sight of a small stack of photos splayed out on the bedside, sitting atop what looks to be a photo album.

Though it’s only a brief glimpse, the two visible pictures alone hint at the whole life story no doubt tucked away between glossy pages.

Theres’s Dustin, several years younger than he is now, in a suit shooting the camera his gummy smile and with a hairdo that looks suspiciously like Steve’s own. And a polaroid shows Robin sprawled out on the counter at Scoops Ahoy, company policy be damned and a book in her hand, Steve’s head just in frame as she flips off the camera.

While Steve fusses over him, fluffing his pillows and insisting he go get Eddie something to drink, Eddie can’t help but think he'd sorta like to hear it sometime–Steve Harrington’s life story. Be regaled with tales, from the photos and beyond, now that they’re here together, after the almost end of the world.

He hopes that, maybe, if he’s lucky, Steve will want to tell him some day.

---

The bloodcurdling scream wakes Steve.

He’s out of his room and down the hall in a flash, nail bat quickly snatched out of its hiding place underneath his bed with ease after years of practice.

Even with his heart racing, he’s quiet when he opens the guest bedroom door, not wanting to scare Eddie or alert…anything else that might be lurking inside.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out, whisper soft as he approaches the bed. When he repeats it, it’s a little harsher, more of a hiss, trying to get Eddie’s attention. “Eddie!”

As he draws closer, Steve can see that Eddie is sweating, large droplets visible where they’ve beaded on his forehead, and he’s writhing hard enough in the sheets Steve’s worried he’s going to pop a stitch if he doesn’t stop him soon.

There’s really only one option ahead Steve sees for himself.

So he gets a knee on the mattress and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie to still him. Even as he does it, Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious Eddie might fight against the restriction and inadvertently make the situation worse.

But then huge brown eyes fly open, Eddie’s terror reflected plainly as he stares up at Steve.

“Jeez–Christ!” Eddie manages to get out, stuttered and slurred, cutting off when Steve makes a soft shushing sound.

“Hey, man,” Steve murmurs, trying to keep his tone soothing as he gives him a tentative smile, “it’s me. It’s just me. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He brushes Eddie’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead, a gesture that would be too intimate in any other circumstances, and then just keeps trying to murmur reassuring shit to him, voice low and gentle.

“I’m here, Eds. I’m here.”

Eddie is shaking against him, but he isn’t squirming or trying to buck him off, which Steve takes as a good sign–as ideal, really, as Steve could hope for in this situation. One of Eddie’s hands comes up to run down his face, his curls shifting against the pillow as he shakes his head fervently.

“Shit, Harrington, I thought–I mean, what I saw–” he trails off, lip trembling.

“I get it, man. Trust me, I get it.”

Though Eddie had squeezed his eyes firmly shut through the come down, he blinks them open again, looking at Steve through the darkness.

“Yeah, uh. Guess you would, wouldn’t you? Probably better than anybody.”

Steve can only nod his agreement.

“I mean, not just me. All of us get them,” he whispers, compelled to say it quietly, as he’s not sure if that truth is a comfort or a burden. “The nightmares, you know? Nance, Dustin, Robin–me.”

“Well, can I just say, they truly and royally suck.”

“Yeah…can’t really argue with you there, man.”

Eddie seems to register, then, that Steve has curled his body around him. His steadily loosening posture goes stiff again, much to Steve’s disappointment, and his eyes dart over nervously to catch Steve’s as he sucks in his bottom lip.

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry, dude. I totally didn’t mean to wake you up with my–terror-filled screams.”

The smile he shoots Steve is self-deprecating, tentative.

Steve’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t pull away, still pressed against Eddie’s side.

“Hey,” Steve coaxed, “you don’t need to do that, Eds. Like I said, we all fucking get them. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I–just wanna help when I can.”

The quirk of Eddie’s lips looks more genuine, now, some of the tension draining away.

“You know, Harrington, it’s kinda annoying how much I know you mean that.”

“Better get used to it, Munson. Cuz I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve gives Eddie one final quick squeeze around his shoulders, wondering if the gesture somehow crosses the line of casual, friendly touch Steve has gotten used to doling out to Eddie since all the Upside Down shit started, the jocular back pats and hair ruffling he’d justified as just typical guy stuff.

With that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Steve pulls away, albeit reluctantly. That said, he really doesn’t want to go back immediately on his word by slinking off to his bedroom, abandoning Eddie to fight off whatever images linger alone in the dark.

Especially not when he hears the almost imperceptible noise Eddie lets out as he stands.

Steve eyes the floor speculatively, an idea already taking root in his head.

“Speaking of, why don’t I just–stay here tonight. Yeah?” he suggests, already tossing the pillow and throw from the chair in the corner on the ground, making himself a pallet.

Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sleeping position ever, but between chairs in the Wheelers’ basement and the cold, hard floor of a Russian elevator, Steve’s done a lot worse.

“C’mon, man–you don’t have to do that,” Eddie tries to protest.

Like Steve can’t clearly see how haggard he looks, peering down at Steve through the curtain of his hair, the end of one strand damp where he’s pulled it up to his mouth and chewed on it.

Steve waves him off. “It’s not a problem. I already told you, dude, Henderson stays over all the time–you think I’ve never had to have a floor sleepover when he was around? Get real.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him.

“...Something tells me you’re not going anywhere even if I pull out my magnificent rhetorical skills from years of DMing and try to argue with you, huh?”

Steve thinks that really Eddie’s just proved his point, the fact that, since Steve mentioned staying, he’s recovered himself enough to be teasing all the more reason sticking around is clearly a good thing.

“Nope,” he answers, voice chipper as he shoots a finger gun at Eddie.

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, didn’t think so.”

Without further ado, Steve flops himself gracelessly onto his makeshift bed for the night, the thick carpet beneath softening his landing.

“Night, Eddie.”

“Yeah. Yeah, night, Steve.”

Several long moments pass, and Steve listens, waiting to hear Eddie’s breathing evening out. It’s a sound he has become well acquainted with after many nights spent at the hospital, fitfully trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Eddie’s bedside. When he fails to hear that telltale signal, Steve can’t help but stay tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Eddie breaks the silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls out, voice wavering. “Could you–fuck, man, I just need…”

He trails off, becoming muffled as he probably buries his face in his hands again. Even in the darkness, as Steve sits up, he can see the way Eddie’s shoulders hitch with his uneven breathing.

Without a word, he abandons the pillow and blanket on the floor to climb back onto the bed. Eddie doesn’t even look up when Steve’s weight dips the mattress.

“Hey, man,” Steve hipchecks him, nudging him over gently, “move over.”

“Harrington…” Eddie drawls slowly, looking completely lost even as he does as requested. His eyes widen further when Steve climbs into the empty space he left behind. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans back onto the pillows, getting comfortable.

“I know what it looks like, I just need some reassurance I’m not just hallucinating from blood loss or something here, man. Maybe you didn’t actually pull me, barely alive, out of that hellhole, and everything since then has all just been a really, really elaborate dream.”

Steve laughs, jostling his shoulder slightly.

“You’re not hallucinating.”

Eddie continues to stare at him in silent disbelief, causing Steve to sigh and sit up.

“Look, man, I–I get it, okay? All this, afterwards…sometimes it helps, just…being together. Close by, you know?”

Steve had had Nancy and the pretense of normalcy after the first go around, though that had all quickly gone to hell.

And the second time, when the kids truly were still kids, not the tiny adults they were fast becoming, there had been Dustin. The night after their second showdown, they’d slept side-by-side on their own makeshift palate on Joyce Byers’ living room floor, the other munchkins all scattered around them and Steve’s hand ruffled in Dustin’s hair, just the reassurance that he was there safe and comforting.

It was the best Steve had slept in almost a year.

And then, after the third time, there had been Robin. Filling up his parents’ empty house with laughter, movie marathons and impromptu sleepovers. Robin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night because she didn’t want to sleep alone in the echoing walls of Casa de Harrington, the two of them kicking each other like two giggling preteens until they fell asleep.

So, yeah. Together, in Steve’s many years of experience, was undeniably better.

“Besides, this way I can check and make sure you don’t actually bleed out in the middle of the night.”

“...If you say so,” Eddie says dubiously, but he doesn’t argue any further, which Steve counts as a win. He’s learned to take them where he can get them, these days.

But even after his agreement, Eddie’s restlessness is transparent. He fidgets beside Steve–drumming his fingers, squirming in the sheets as though trying to get comfortable, and eventually rolling half onto his side so that he’s facing away from Steve entirely. As Steve peers curiously at the outline of his shoulders, he realizes Eddie is still trembling, just a little.

His heart gives a painful kick in his chest.

“Here, just–” Steve turns until he’s lined up along Eddie’s back and then wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him back against him.

Eddie’s fidgeting stops immediately as he freezes in Steve’s arms.

“How’s that?” he asks into the waves of Eddie’s hair brushing against his face. “Better?”

“Uh.”

The hesitation in Eddie’s voice makes Steve really wish he could see his face, get a better read on the situation. Eddie’s so damn expressive, he might as well be the poster boy for “heart on his sleeve” as a phrase.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you totally weirded out?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice casual. “If you want me to, like, stop, you can just…tell me, you know.”

“No,” Eddie laughs, his head dipping downwards, “no, man, it’s…it’s definitely not that. I’m just trying to reconcile several shifting pieces of my world outlook into place all at once.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Eddie turns, then, tipping over onto his back again so he can stare at Steve in disbelief. Steve doesn’t loosen his hold on his waist.

“Steve Harrington. Is in my bed. Spooning me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “None of that strikes you as weird?”

“I’m not spooning you now,” Steve points out. “You turned around.”

“Dude!” Eddie smacks his shoulder, shaking his head, laughter in his voice. They’re close enough his hair tickles Steve’s face as it whips around them.

“And, no, not really,” Steve shrugs. “Probably doesn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things I’ve done in the past three years.”

“I mean…after the shit I’ve seen? I don’t doubt that, dude.”

But Eddie stares at him for a long beat after he admits it, eyes bright and brows drawn. There’s an expression, on his face, like he’d like to crack Steve open and see how his gears work, understand him from the inside out.

Plenty of people have looked at Steve like they wanted him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like this before, though.

The comforter has fallen down around Eddie’s waist, the shirt Steve had lent him riding up, exposing the pale line of his stomach. The worst of the wounds are still covered in bandages, the stitching hidden underneath them, but a patch of fresh, purple scarring spills out from the stark white gauze.

That’s the only real explanation that Steve has, for what he decides to break the sudden, loaded silence with.

(Plus maybe, just maybe, it’s one way of giving Eddie a part of himself, one jigsaw piece in the puzzle those bright brown eyes seem eager to solve.)

“You know, Nancy has a scar on her palm.”

When Eddie’s face turns towards his on the pillow, shooting him a puzzled look, he keeps going.

“Here, like this,” Steve tries to sound nonchalant as he takes Eddie’s hand, drags a finger gently across it. He’s not sure how much he’s succeeded, seeing the way the furrow of Eddie’s brow deepens in the low light. “And it’s…from the first time, with the demogorgon? Nancy and Jonathan, they–they lured it out together, and they’ve got the matching scars to prove it. She explained it to me, later, what happened.”

“I mean…that sounds like a gnarly war wound,” Eddie observes hesitantly. Then, his lips tug into a lopsided smile. “Not as impressive as a missing nipple, of course, but, you know–not everybody can be as badass as me.”

“Shut up, dude,” Steve scoffs, trying to bite back his own smile as he very gently jostles Eddie’s arm.

“What I’m trying to say, Harrington, is–I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this now?”

“I was getting to it, Eds. Sheesh, when it comes to patience, you're as bad as the munchkins.”

Eddie inclines his head for Steve to continue, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You have my sincerest apologies for interrupting, Stevie. Please–carry on, my liege.”

“Thank you,” Steve says snippily, partially out of habit, and partially because returning to the topic at hand is making him a little nervous. “So, like I was saying–Jonathan and Nance, they’ve got these matching marks on their hands, right? And, after they got back together–not to sound like a stalker, or anything, for the record this was when we would hang out sometimes–but more than once I would…I would catch them, just. Doing this thing where they pressed their palms together, like this.”

He demonstrates, spreading his hand out so his and Eddie’s hands line up together perfectly, Steve’s own longer fingers inching out over the tips of Eddie’s own.

“I don’t think they ever realized I noticed. But I always knew, when they did it, they were comparing their–what did you call them?–their matching war wounds. Like they carried this secret little thing that would always tie them together, no matter what happened. And I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t jealous, at first, but even then, I always thought it was…nice. The thought of having somebody who would always be connected to you, that way, where you could never really erase what you’d been through together.”

A long beat of silence passes between them, him and Eddie staring at each other in the moonlight. Steve hopes, desperately, that maybe some part of what he’s trying to work up to saying is getting through.

“That is…incredibly morbid. Especially for you, Harrington,” Eddie notes finally, a corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement.

Steve huffs out a breath, beginning to pull his hand away, “Whatever, man, if you’re just gonna make fun, forget I said any–”

“Shit, no no no, dude!” Eddie’s arm flies out, gripping Steve tightly around the wrist, not letting him slink away. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I–that’s not what I meant. I do, I do get what you’re saying. Like you said, scars like that–they work like a symbol, that you’ve been through some tough shit together, side by side, and made it out the other end alive. I totally fucking get it, dude. And against all instincts, I do think it’s pretty romantic, in an absolutely metal sorta way. That’s why I said it like that. Just didn’t expect your romantic side to come with so much edge, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve lets out a dry huff, “almost dying about a hundred times will do that to a person.”

“Yeah, I guess it will. I’m, uh. Still not completely clear about what Wheeler and Byers’ big epic love story has to do with us, though?” Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Unless…you’re here to wallow? In which case–I mean, fair enough. Wallow away, my good sir. You’ve more than earned it.”

“It’s not that,” Steve insists, even as he shrugs his shoulders, slightly conceding the point. “I mean, sure, with Nancy…I really thought she was it for me, once upon a time. And so when I saw what she had, with Jonathan–it hurt. Because it was her, of course, but also…because I wanted that with someone, as twisted as it maybe sounds. I’d gone through hell and back, too, and all I got was that nail bat and a bunch of mouthy kids to look out for.”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, and Steve grins back at him.

“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. I mean, I got Robin, too, and I don’t know what I’d do without her, or the hellions, for that matter. But, I–”

Deliberately, he tugs up his own shirt, shifting until he’s pressing carefully against Eddie’s side. Their matching bandages brush, an identical swath of white in the darkness, tangled scars seeming to almost curl together. It’s hard, in that moment, to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

“I just–never thought I’d have anybody else to match with. That’s all.”

“But–now you do?” Eddie says slowly, something cautious in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a tentative half-smile. “Now I’ve got you.”

“...You got me,” Eddie agrees quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak that part out loud. “Dragged me out of hell and everything, Harrington. No return receipt after all that so…don’t really think there’s any getting rid of me now, even if you wanted to.”

“Good,” Steve says curtly, with a sharp, certain nod of his head, leaving no room for any creeping doubts. “Like I said, Munson, I’ve been waiting on this for a while, so you don’t get to run out on me now.”

Eddie shakes his head again, lips curling in bemusement.

“You are something else entirely, Steve Harrington,” he admits. “Full of surprises.”

“Good ones?” Steve asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Eddie tilts his head back and forth, as though he’s considering.

(Later, he will tease Steve about it mercilessly.

“Was that the infamous Harrington charm at work? Bet you tell that one to all the boys you lure into your bed, seduce them with tales of matching battle wounds connecting you like a pair of fated lovers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Eds,” Steve will counter with that same sincerity that always sends Eddie blushing, “cuz I’ve never said anything like that before. Not to anybody. Not before you.”)

But, for now, it takes only a moment for Eddie’s face to dissolve into a warm smile. Reaching over, he tangles his fingers with Steve’s again, tugging their interlaced hands up to rest against one of the scarred patches stretching across his belly.

The skin feels smooth under Steve’s hand. For a moment, he wonders how it would feel, to press his lips there.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes sparkling with so many promises of the future, for now left unsaid. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good so far.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #my stuff #my things #me coming at you with yet another spin on an established steddie trope? it's more likely than you think

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goggles-mcgee · 2 years ago

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Steve Harrington being absolutely pissed/terrified at the Upside-Down and all it's monsters and being a Petty Betty and reading everything he can about DnD monsters and how best to kill them because the UD monsters seem to have a pattern and the kids relate the monsters to those in their game. Steve absolutely wanting to be as prepared as he can and reading up on any and all creatures, mythical, magical, cryptid, horror just in case they run into the Upside-down equivalent. Steve especially doing this during season 3.

Eddie Munson of course works at the mall too, at the record store across from Scoop's and may or may not have the biggest crush on Steve Harrington who he can sometimes see through the shop's windows when the customers are low, but he and Steve don't properly interact till season 4. Not until he adopts his merry band of little sheep. Steve and he somewhat talking when he picks them up from Hellfire. It's not until Steve arrives a bit to early for pickup and sits down to wait for them in the clubroom that they actual start talking more than a handful of words.

Steve is over the moon to actually be making a friend around his own age. Eddie is in-between wanting to scream in frustration for actually liking Steve more after they continue to get to know each other or just kiss his stupidly pretty lips. The rest of Hellfire are apprehensive but after seeing how Steve interacts with the kids, with Eddie's blatant flirting (Steve though is oblivious) and how Steve seems to be friends with that chicken Robin in band, they mostly just ignore him or even ask how his day was.

It's during one session that Steve purposefully came early so he could hang out that Steve's knowledge is revealed. He's just chilling on the club room's donated sofa and reading Batman Annual #8 that Lucas lent him after ranting about the art and story for so long that Steve gave in and asked to borrow it. Lucas liked to joke that they had to give Steve an activity otherwise he'd fall asleep so Lucas would bring him a comic and Dustin usually had a snack his mom packed for Steve. So Steve is just snacking, reading, minding his own business when he hears the kids arguing about how best to take down Gray Ooze and Steve just mindlessly remembering all his studying just blurts, "It's immune to cold and fire, I don't know what weapons you have on hand or your spell things but anything besides cold and fire should work."

He's still reading the comic and snacking on some almonds so he misses when all heads turn to look at him in bafflement, or complete heart-eyes in Eddie's case. He does not miss when Dustin, Mike and Lucas start yelling at him and demanding how he knew that.

Eddie is wondering how soon is too soon to get Steve a promise ring.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dnd knowledge is the way to Eddie's heart #among other things #lucas is a batman fan because i say so #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #steve just wants to protect his nuggets okay?#if that means reading and cramming as much information into his brain cell as he can #so be it

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steviewashere · 7 months ago

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If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts.

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #3+1 #humor and hijinks #humor #or at least an attempt at humor #mild hurt/comfort

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