#maybe then Nancy would try to talk to Mike about how he’s feeling
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mike wheeler is actually so gay. thinking about this on my s1 rewatch today. things between him & el weren't even remotely romantic until lucas brought it up. everything he knows about girls or a romantic relationship with a girl doesn't come naturally to him & he basically has to ask for advice whenever he has relationship issues.
in st4 he didn't even sign the letters "love, mike" which is absolutely crazy how we just brushed over that. it's not like he's el & might not know to sign letters with "love" yet he doesn't do it anyway. legit writing "love, [name]" was the first way i ever learned to sign a letter. & adding onto that EL EVEN KNOWS TO SIGN WITH "LOVE". ???
it baffles me how people like,,,, don't pick up on all this. legitimately. ALL of the other couples in stranger things paired together normally or had the relationship come normally, & when there's issues between the two, they can solve it without outsourcing for help all the time. because they truly understand the other person as well as the type of relationship they are in.
max & lucas? fell in love pretty naturally in a way that flowed & didn't feel forced. they are also portrayed in s3 to have "more" issues than el & mike, yet lucas always wins max back, & knows exactly how to. jonathan & nancy? not forced at all, came together naturally. when they have relationship issues, they understand each other enough & trust each other enough to get through it.
mike & el aren't the same way. they get along just fine, until they relationship turns romantic in some way. think about it--when el dumped mike's ass, sure they didn't talk for awhile, but they seemed to share a genuine connection of friendship. when they are in a relationship, everything seems strained.
i think i talked about maybe a year back about how el & mike were even showcased to be actively bringing out the worst in each other, especially in s3. this can be seen in s4 as well at rink-o-mania especially, when el portrays her whole life in california as a lie. they always seem to work better together when there isn't a romantic connotation on their relationship (all of the beginning of s1, until the bathtub).
all this to say that byler endgame, cause i was sitting last night listening to sad mgmt songs & trying not to think about the election & i just kept thinking about how mike & will were built for each other, like it would be so cruel for him to be friendzoned by the person he's loved for years, & yelled for whenever he was in the upside down. breaks my heart.
since that's such a shitty ending for him, & we know that will DOES have a happy ending, i don't see how in anyway byler doesn't end up together.
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 55
ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 52, part 53, part 54
Dustin wakes up with a cold sweat, panting. The early morning sun making its way through the window. Illuminating his room. He blinks away visions of broken glass on his floor, the body of his cat. The truth that his mother can never know, the secret he keeps from her.
He’s jealous of the people that have someone else in their house to talk to about this. Mike has Nancy, Lucas has Erica, Will and El have their entire house. Steve has Eddie, and Robin considering how much she stays over there. He has no one.
Something pounces on his bed, startling him. Tews coming up to bump her head into his arm, purring.
“Jesus,” he jumps. She continues to rub against his arm until he starts to scratch around her collar. “Be glad you’re cute.”
He gets out of bed, heading to the kitchen. Tews following beside him, probably wanting food. He pulls out the container from the pantry and fills her bowl, watching as she goes to eat it. A different scene flashes in his mind when he blinks. He wishes he could ignore it.
“Dustin,” Claudia’s voice comes from the doorway. “She didn’t wake you up, did she?”
“No, I was already up. Just needed some water,” he lies. He hates that he has to lie, but it’s better for her.
Claudia squeezes his shoulder, moving toward the cabinets to get him a glass. Filling it before filling up the coffee pot. He takes the glass, sitting down at the kitchen table. Knowing that he isn’t going to be able to go back to sleep.
“You ok, Dusty,” his mom asks. Coming over to place the back of her hand against his forehead. “You haven’t been acting the same.”
Dustin wishes he could tell her. Wishes that she could really know what’s going on. So maybe she could help. Have some sort of answer so he doesn’t have to find one. Some way to make him feel like he used to. But she has the blessing of not knowing, he needed her to keep it.
“I’m fine,” he lies. Mind racing to think of a quick excuse. “Just tired.”
She makes the face, the all knowing mother face. Her lips pinching in the way that shows she knows he’s lying, but cares enough to say it gently. She sits down across from him. “You’ve been through so much these past few years. With Will going missing, then the fire at the mall, now the earthquake. Seeing your friends get hurt. And knowing you, you wanted to do everything to fix it, and feel bad because you can’t figure out how.
“You might think you’re hiding it from me, but you’re not. I saw you go to that hospital day after day to check up on them. I see you when you come home and the smile drops. See the pain in your eyes. I’ve tried to be here for you in the ways that I can, but I’m not sure it’s enough.”
He didn’t know she knew. Stupidly, he thought he was hiding it. He thought he was putting up the right front to make sure she never knew.
“And I just,” she continues. “If you think you need to talk to someone, there are resources we can look into.”
If only it were that simple. If only he could go and talk to someone. But even then, he can’t share the full truth. He can’t share what really haunts him at night. All of it would still be laced with lies. The papers he signed kept the secrets in a closed group. Not allowing anyone to come in. He doesn’t know how he could sit with a therapist and talk about this while trying to make sure he wasn’t saying too much.
“I—” he starts. Not sure how to tell her that it can’t work like that. Not sure how to communicate how much it meant to see him, and extend a helping hand.
“Just think about it,” she cuts him off. “And know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
He nods. “I will.”
She stands, walking over to him and cupping his face with her palm, before going about her normal morning routine. So innocent to the ways of this town.
But, what she said, he forgot that she was there too. That, when Will’s casket was lowered into the ground, it was her hand on his shoulder, giving support. It was her that was called to the hospital each time he got hurt. It was her he came home to, and faked being ok.
She knew, on some level, that he could never tell her what really happened. Maybe that’s not what matters. The past can’t change, or be shared, but the future can. The promise of brightness is still there, and he wants to bask in it. He wants to move forward, get better, grow.
He wants all of it, but can’t figure out how to untie the binds that wrap his feet.
For one of the last times, he guesses, he bikes his way to Steve’s house. The heat of August slowly rising with the sun. He hears the birds chirping as they fly around, sees the squirrels start to gather their nuts. A deer runs through the woods. The familiarity of early mornings comforting.
This town holds so many memories. Good, bad, downright ugly and frightening. But it was still his home. All of them sewn together to make a feeling that he can’t describe, but everyone has. No matter where he goes, or how much he grows, this town is still the reason he is who he is.
It is terrifying to think that he will always remember, that he will never forget. But maybe forgetting is more terrifying than remembering.
“You’re here early,” Wayne comments as Dustin bikes up the drive.
“I just—” He doesn’t know why he’s here, he realizes. Just got on his bike and went somewhere familiar. Somewhere he didn’t have to hide. “Wanted to come over, I guess.”
Wayne shrugs, unlocking the door. “Rough night?”
“Kinda, it’s hard to talk about.”
“Lot of things are. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
That was the whole problem. Dustin would talk about it, but there’s only so many people that he can. Those people were his friends, with their own issues. Why would Dustin ask to dump all of his stuff on top of theirs?
“Everyone keeps saying that. You, the guys, my mom.”
Wayne studies him for a moment, before nodding his head and leading him to the living room. “You know, there were a few buddies of mine that fought in ‘Nam. When they came back, something was different about them that no one else could understand. They just came back from a war they were forced to fight, not a lot of people can say that.”
Dustin sits on the couch, listening.
“They all had their own ways of coping. One of them drank, another was in and out of prison. But the one who’s still alive, he found a group of vets and talked about it. Found the people that understood and worked with them to live past what happened to him.”
“My mom thinks I should go to therapy,” Dustin says quietly. “But I can’t.”
Wayne nods. “I know. My buddy didn’t want to go to therapy either. Didn’t have the community that he wanted. That’s why he went to the group.”
An idea starts to form in Dustin’s mind.
“Point is,” Wayne continues, “is that I’ve spent the past few months surrounded by all of you. Seeing the way you act, and react. You’re so young and already seen so much. More than anyone would have ever asked you to see. I don’t want to see it kill you like it did to them.”
A support group. With scheduled meetings. People who understand. Not just bringing it up whenever you were going to break. Stopping it as the bend began.
Dustin would be willing to do it. It was just a matter of convincing everyone else.
“I got to go.” He stands up, abruptly, rushing toward the front door.
“Woah,” Eddie says as Dustin almost runs into him. “Where are you going?”
“Dustin,” Steve asks.
They were coming out of the hall where Eddie’s room was. Eddie was wearing Steve’s old basketball shirt. There wasn’t time for this.
“I’ll explain later,” Dustin rushes as he pushes on his shoes. “But I’m coming back to whatever is happening there,” he circles between Steve and Eddie with his hand. Watching as their faces flush as he runs out the door.
He mounts his bike and feels the familiar push on his pedals. Biking down the streets he knows by memory. Until he gets to Mirkwood and pedals through. Right up that rocky hill in the woods.
He thinks back to one of the first time he biked up this hill. How it forced the breath out of his lungs and cause him to stop. Take a few minutes to catch his breath before he could continue. Now, he can do it no problem. Keep traveling like that hill was the smallest in the world. He was stronger now, older.
He was different. So, so different from that kid he used to be. Different, but still sort of the same. He still loved science, he still loved his friends. Love the same movies. But there was so much that was different. He was taller, needed to get a whole new wardrobe of clothes. Had to get a new bike, outgrew the old one. His hair was longer, and he took better care of it now.
But when he smiled, when he laughed, it was all the same. And the outside, well, everyone changed as they grew up. He wanted so much to go back and do it all over, but can’t help but think that he’d still end up right here.
There were things that he’d never choose. Horrors that would be better off unseen. But Dustin was still Dustin if he let himself be.
He knocks furiously on the Byers’ door, a tired Will opening it.
“What are you doing here this early?” he asks
“I have an idea.”
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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores
#chills right to the marrow fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#dustin henderson#dustin pov#claudia henderson#wayne munson#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie
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more stobin nonsense from your resident trash goblin. feat. shitty harrington parents, lavender marriage, full party found family shenanigans, steddie flirting, steve&will bonding, and a severe lack of dialogue tags
rating: t wc: 5k ao3
“I knew it!”
Steve sighs. Listen, he knew the minute he opened his mouth that this was coming. There was always a zero percent chance Dustin was ever gonna let him get out the whole thing before bursting in with this exact interruption, but that doesn’t make it less annoying. If the little shithead would just let him finish--
"I knew you were perfect together, I can't believe you didn't tell us you were dating! How long have you been a thing? I have money to collect! Can I be your best man? Never mind, obviously I'm gonna be your best man. You so owe me for not telling me sooner! I cannot believe-"
"Henderson!"
"What?"
"We're not together like that."
In fairness, Dustin is not the only one to give them an incredulous look for that one.
"Steve. You literally just announced you and Robin are getting married. What is even the point of pretending you're not in love anymore? What are you still trying to prove? Just admit I was right the whole time!"
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and forces himself to take a deep breath, instead of wringing Dustin's weird little boneless neck. It's not his fault, he reminds himself. They haven't gotten to the second part of the announcement, so his assumptions are natural.
Now, it is Henderson's fault that they haven't managed to say the rest of what they came here to say, so maybe he can keep blaming him after all.
"Do you remember when we sat down and we asked you guys to let us say everything we were gonna say without interrupting?"
"Uh, yeah dude, it was like ten minutes ago. We're not stupid."
"Has it occurred to you that maybe we weren't done saying everything we were gonna say, considering I was halfway through a sentence when you jumped in?"
"I mean, I guess, but like, it's pretty obvious where you're going with this, Steve. You're not a complicated guy, no offense. Now, where did we land on the best man issue?"
Nancy must see the offense very much taken on his face, because before he can open his mouth and say something probably horrifically rude that would feel amazing in the moment and which he would immediately regret, she jumps to his rescue.
"Dustin, you're being very rude. Steve and Robin came here to talk to us, and we promised to listen. Let them finish."
It's nice of her to back Steve up, considering how weird this conversation must be for her. Hopefully it gets less awkward soon.
Henderson grumbles mutinously, but years of dealing with first Mike and then the rest of the little dickheads have left Nancy's control ironclad, and he waves sarcastically for Steve to continue.
This kid is spending too much time with Eddie, the attitude is getting out of hand.
"Right. Thanks, Nance. As I was saying, Robin and I are getting married, yes. But not because we're in love. I mean, I love her, obviously, but as a friend. Only a friend. Or, well, I guess a friend and soon a...friend...wife? Frife? Wend? You guys get it."
"We very much don't." Alright, well, fine, add Max to the shitlist.
He looks over at Robin, hoping for help, but she's stiff as a board and trembling all over.
He doesn't want to be the one to say the words for her. They agreed together to tell everyone the truth, it was her idea even, but the last thing he wants to do is steal that moment from her.
Maybe he can just…talk around it, until she feels up to it. And if not, he’ll just tell them his part of it and call it good.
“We’re getting lavender married.”
Okay, so that’s probably not like. A normal way to say that or whatever. Robin just used that term like fifty times last night, alright? She was really excited about the article she just read about it, something about how it was a thing in, like, olden times or whatever, and now it’s coming back because Reagan is a fucking tool, Steve’s not sure, he was only kind of listening. Regardless, now it’s stuck in his head. Sue him or whatever, geez.
Anyway, he isn’t sure how many people in this room will actually understand what that means, but Nancy’s mouth drops open in a perfect little O the way it only does when she’s genuinely surprised by something, and there’s a tiny gasp from over by the table that he thinks might have come from Will, and Max mutters to herself “Oh shit, that explains so much,” so it’s not none of them, which helps. No pitchforks yet, at least.
Jonathan is eyeing him speculatively, and Argyle is offering him an enthusiastic thumbs up, which is nice.
Unfortunately, the other boys and El are giving him blank, expectant stares, and Erica is eyeing him with both confusion and annoyance, so it looks like he still has some explaining to do.
“What the hell does your color scheme have to do with this? I’m not helping plan the wedding, dude, I don’t care that much.”
Steve mumbles a “Language,” on reflex, but his heart isn’t in it. This is somehow more nerve-wracking than evil Russians.
“Mike, that’s not what it means. Now shut up and listen, or I’ll tell Mom how that red sock ended up in her load of white delicates.”
“Oh come on, she’ll kill me!” When all he gets in return is a single raised eyebrow, he groans and slumps further into his seat, glaring at Steve.
“Right. Okay. So basically, last night, my parents--”
“I’m a lesbian!”
There’s a beat of dead silence, which in this group is more unsettling than just about anything else.
Steve keeps his eyes on Robin, who looks just about as shocked at her own outburst as everyone else in the room. He takes her hand, squeezing gently until she unfreezes a little and looks back over at him. She looks terrified, and it breaks his heart a little.
“You okay, babe?” He keeps his voice low, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear. He knows this moment is the opposite of private, but she needs him to pretend for a second, so that’s what he’s gonna do.
She nods, a little jerkily, but she grips his hand back and intentionally evens out her breathing. She’s so fucking brave. He would burn the world down for Robin Buckley, and he doesn’t care who knows it.
He can’t believe she’s willing to do this for him, but he’s so grateful he feels like he’s choking on it.
“Henderdork will literally never shut up and let you live it down if we do this and he doesn’t know the truth. Not even for a single second for the rest of forever, and I, for one, am not putting up with that shit until death or legal marriage reforms do us part, Dingus.”
It was a solid point last night when they came up with the plan, curled on her bed while she stroked his hair and generously pretended he hadn’t soaked the shoulder of her shirt with his sobs, all his worldly possessions packed into a duffel on her bedroom floor, but he knows her insistence was more about knowing how much he hates lying to the kids than it was about protecting herself from irritating teenagers.
He doesn’t think there’s enough room on the whole planet to hold all the love he feels for her, even if you count the Upside Down and any other weirdo dimensions floating around out there waiting to ruin his day.
“I’m okay, bubba. Don’t let go?” Her hand is shaking in his, but he just squeezes harder.
“Never.” He turns back to the room, eyes hard as he scans the faces of their family for any hostility. He wouldn’t have agreed to this part of the plan if he thought any of them would be a problem, but he’s not taking anything for granted with Robbie’s safety. Not now, not ever. "Everyone's gonna be cool about that, right?"
"Of course we are, right, guys?" From the pained grunt that follows her words, Steve assumes Max has dug her elbow into Mike's ribs.
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"I suppose this makes you slightly less lame, Buckley. It's definitely better than when I thought you liked this loser." Wow, okay, thank you Erica.
"Yeah totally! Thanks for trusting us, Robin." Lucas is a sweetheart, he really is. He's also glancing surreptitiously at Will while he nods enthusiastically, who is still staring open-mouthed at Robin with wide, shiny eyes.
"Yes, thank you for trusting us, Robin." Nancy is smiling kindly, but she's got that glint in her eye that Steve knows means she just came up with more questions and is waiting for the right moment to strike. Fair enough, at least she's letting Robs have her moment first.
He finally drags his eyes back to Dustin, who he doesn't really want to admit, even to himself, he's a little worried about. Not that he'll be shitty about it, necessarily, but there's nothing that brings out Henderson's bitchy side like being wrong, and he's been so fucking wrong this entire time. It's bound to upset him.
And maybe Steve will never say this out loud where the other kids might hear, but the truth is that Dustin's opinion matters to him more than just about everyone else's. Dustin was the first person in the whole world who saw Steve, the real Steve, and decided he was worth keeping around. If Henderson can't accept this part of Robin, it means he can't accept this part of Steve, and if that happens...if that happens Steve isn't sure he'll be able to come back from it.
So he's...not worried, okay? Worried is not the right word. Anxious, maybe. Concerned.
Okay fine fuck off he's worried.
Dustin...looks like he's about to cry. Shit.
"Did you think you couldn't trust me?" His voice is so small. Steve doesn't think he's ever heard it so small. It feels wrong. Henderson's voice should fill every room he's in, always. "You didn't have to lie. You could have told me the truth."
Aw, fuck.
"Buddy,--"
"It's not that simple, little man."
Steve whips back around to look at Robin. Are you sure you’re up for this? She purses her lips and narrows her eyes. Yeah, Dingus, this is my mess. Let me clean it up. Put the lance down, White Knight. Well, alright then. He waves for her to continue, ignoring the looks the others always shoot them when they do their silent conversation thing. Not his fault they can’t read each other as well, it’s not like it’s hard.
"Before today, Steve was the only person in the world who knew about me. And honestly, I don't know if I would have told him if we weren't both coming off torture and truth serum. I've worked hard to hide it my whole life, baby Dingus, that's not an easy thing to stop doing. It's scary."
"But we're your friends. We're your family! We saved the world together! You should trust your family, right?"
Aw, jeez. Steve forgets, sometimes, how young they are. They've been through horrific supernatural trauma, but they're still the kind of kids who think life is a story with a happy ending, like their little dragon game.
"Yeah, bud, you should, but it's not always that easy. There can be really serious consequences for telling the wrong person. Like, last night my parents found out I'm bisexual by accident and now I...well. Now I don't have parents anymore." Oof, okay, little blunter than he meant to be, but Robbie's getting anxious again so he has to take the focus back.
There's an eruption of sound, as every voice in the Party starts shouting all at once, turning the Wheeler's basement into Steve's own personal migraine generator.
"Did they kick you out?"
"You're bisexual?!"
"What's bisexual?"
"They can't just do that!"
"Does this mean we have to find somewhere else for Hellfire nights?"
That last one earns Erica several Looks, but she doesn't flinch. "What? I'm just being practical."
He wishes Eddie was here. The gremlins actually listen to him, unlike Steve, on account of as their Hellfire DM, he has leverage they care about to threaten them with. Well, most of them, but it's definitely a help when he's around.
Sadly he and Wayne are at some kind of Munson family reunion down in West Virginia this week, so Steve is gonna have to do this whole spiel over again when he gets back. He and Robin thought about waiting until he got back and the whole Party could be together, but the kids would definitely notice him not living in Loch Nora anymore pretty much immediately. And Steve hates the idea of telling him over the phone, so double coming out/engagement announcement it is.
"Alright, Jesus Christ, enough! One at a goddamn time, you animals."
He looks back at Dustin, who's definitely crying now. "Yeah, buddy, they kicked me out, but I'm okay. I'm staying with the Buckleys for now, and Rob and I have been saving up to move in together soon anyway, so all this did is move up our timeline. I'm safe and I'm fine, okay? I promise."
Dustin plasters himself to Steve's front, squeezing like he's worried Steve is going to shatter into pieces and he can hold him together by sheer force of will. It's very sweet, even if it's crushing his lungs a little.
"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me." The words are muffled in Steve's chest, he's not sure anyone else heard him.
"Aw, kid, it's okay. I trust you, alright? Always. You die, I die, remember? I was just...figuring my shit out, that's all."
"Your parents are mouthbreathers." Steve chuckles a little at the mutinous glare on El's face, not pausing his hand where he's stroking Dustin's hair.
"You're not wrong, Supergirl. But it's fine, honestly. They've always been dicks, I've been planning to move out for a long time. They just...gave me the final push, is all." He's definitely leaving out the part where he broke down sobbing in Robbie's bed last night, asking her over and over why he was so broken that his own parents couldn't love him, but the kids don't need to hear that part of the story.
"Does this have something to do with your whirlwind engagement?" There she is, ace reporter Nancy Wheeler. Observant as always.
"Yeah, pretty much. They disinherited me, but they're still legally my next of kin."
"And Dingus has had far too much head trauma for me to trust he's not gonna end up back in the hospital for something at some point, and the last thing we need is Mr. and Mrs. von Child Neglect getting that call. And I was just reading about gay men and women who are marrying each other so they can have someone allowed in to see in them in the hospital, because of the virus, you know? And I thought, hey that's not a half bad idea! We're gonna be living together anyway, and it's not like I'm marrying anyone else, and it'll be good for both of us to have someone who knows about, y'know, monsters and all that jazz, to do our power of attorney stuff, so, voila! Mr. and Mrs. Bucklington!"
"We are not changing our name to Bucklington."
"Well Harringley is worse, so suck it up, buttercup."
"I'm not interested in keeping the Harrington name, Bobs, I'd rather just be a Buckley."
"Aw, bubba, you're gonna make me cry!"
"You should both become Hendersons! Then we'd really be brothers!"
Steve erupts into laughter, the tension effectively broken by Dustin's wide, toothy grin. "What d'ya say, Bobbie? Steve and Robin Henderson?"
"Would we get access to Claudia's lasagna recipe? Because if so, I'm behind this plan one hundred percent.”
"By 'we' you do mean me, right? Because I love you more than life, Bobs, but I'm not letting you anywhere near a casserole dish. I've learned that lesson."
"It was one time!"
"It took me three days to get all the cheese off the ceiling! There's still a stain!"
"Well good! Ceiling grease stains can be the Harrington's problem now, anyway. They deserve it!"
Argyle is nodding sagely from on top of the incredibly deflated bean bag he's sharing with Jonathan. "I do like Bucklington, it makes you sound like a fancy butler. But family is important, brochachos, and so is lasagna. I vote Henderson."
This spurs impassioned arguments from all corners, which Steve is more than happy to relax into the couch cushions and let wash over him.
There's a light, bubbly feeling in his chest. For the first time since his dad walked in unannounced yesterday, interrupting his phone call with Robin at the worst possible moment, the knot of fear and grief in his stomach starts to loosen.
Robin smiles at him, and he grins helplessly back. Who needs parents when he's got a soulmate? They're together, they're safe, they're surrounded by their family. Steve holds Dustin tighter to his side and lets himself feel loved.
He takes advantage of a lull in the Last Name Wars to get out the last of the speech he'd planned. "Anyway, we decided to tell all of you the truth when we came up with this plan last night, because we do trust you and we didn't want to lie to you, and also because we knew you shitheads would never shut up about us being in love if we didn't and that sounded awful."
He laughs delightedly at the chorus of indignant outbursts this gets him before continuing.
"It's really important that you don't tell anyone outside the Party the truth, alright? We're gonna tell Eddie when he gets back, and we might tell Joyce and Hop eventually, but that needs to be our choice to do. You can't do it for us, and you absolutely can't tell anyone else. The whole point of this is to keep us safe by keeping people from finding out the truth, okay?"
El looks vaguely uncomfortable, but not upset. "Will you tell my Dad soon?"
Steve glances at Robbie, who's looking anxious again, and then over at Will. His shoulders are tense, hunched up around his ears, and he's staring intently at the table in front of him.
Steve isn't sure if anyone else knows what he thinks he knows about Will, but he's pretty sure he recognizes the specific flavor of isolation he can see Will struggling with sometimes, and he's definitely sure he recognizes the looks Will shoots at Mike whenever Wheeler isn't looking. Tommy used to look at him like that.
Either way, he knows the kind of fear the kid must be suffering, just like he knows how terrifying today was for Robin. For Steve, the worst case scenario has already happened, so he has a lot less left to lose. He can afford to smooth the way a little, to test the waters and make sure they're safe for everyone else.
It's not that different from his normal role in this group anyway, just a different kind of monster. He's always been good at taking hits so the others don't have to-- this is just another threat to step in front of.
"Tell you what, Ellie, I'll talk to Hop and Joyce this weekend, that way you won't have to keep secrets from him for too long. I'll just tell him about me, though, at first, okay? That way we'll know if it's safe for Robbie." Or anyone else, he doesn't say.
Jonathan hears it, at the very least, and shoots him a look that's equal parts surprised and grateful. Maybe Will has someone else in his corner after all, then.
El nods happily, satisfied with that.
Before anyone else can jump in, there's a clattering on the basement stairs. None of them have time to tense up too badly before the door bursts open and Eddie comes tumbling through it in a flurry of dark curls and frayed denim.
"Fear not, my wayward wastrels, for I have returned from far off lands, bearing tidings and the promise of libations!"
Steve only recognizes, like, four of those words, but seeing Eddie gives him the same happy, fizzy feeling in his gut that it always does these days, so he grins.
"You're back early, Eds, everything ok?"
Eddie blinks at him, then around the room, looking surprised to see it so packed.
"Yeah, my cousin Clarence accidentally broke my MeeMaw's pasture fencing and set all the goats loose in the hills, and if we stuck around we were gonna have to help round them back up, so Wayne and I snuck out early. I was coming to invite the gremlins out for pizza to tell you all about it, but this is more people than I was expecting. Y'all having a family meeting? Without little old moi?"
Steve valiantly suppresses the shiver that the twang in Eddie's voice triggers. Steve's not sure if Eddie notices the way his accent gets stronger when he's been talking to family, but he's had to work very hard to make sure he doesn't notice the way it affects Steve.
Steve has barely tested the flirting waters with Eddie since admitting his crush to Robin, he's definitely not jumping right in with 'It makes me tingly all over when you start talking with a drawl, wanna call me darlin' and see what happens?'
Luckily Bobbie notices his inner struggle and comes to his rescue.
"It was kind of a time sensitive issue- not a life or death one! Or like. Not a monster one, anyway. But shit went down last night and we needed to brief everyone before the geek squad figured out something was funky and came beating down the door. Steve wanted to tell you in person so we were gonna wait til you got back, but here you are!"
Eddie's looking at Robin with an amused smile on his face, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirked in a lopsided grin that is, frankly, unreasonably attractive. "Here I am indeed, my fair Lady of Feathers. So what's the scoop?"
He plops down next to Jonathan and Argyle on the beanbags, nearly sending them all toppling before Argyle hooks both of them around the waists and drags them practically into his lap.
Steve is not seething with jealousy. He's not.
A half a dozen voices chime out all at once.
"Robin's gay!"
"Steve's homeless."
"Robin and Steve are getting married!"
“Purple married.”
“It’s lavender, dummy.”
“Lavender’s a kind of purple!”
"They're gonna be Hendersons!"
"No they aren't, weirdo, they're gonna be Buckleys."
"Bucklington is clearly the superior choice, even if Argyle was right about the butler thing."
“Bucklington my ass, y’all dumb as hell if you think Mom and Dad aren’t gonna try and make him a Sinclair after this.”
"Mama and Papa Harrington didn't like that Stevie boy has double the love to give. Totally bogus. Bi bros for life, man."
"I still call Steve's best man!"
Eddie blinks a little when everyone quiets down, looking vaguely shellshocked. "That was. A lot of information to get in thirty seconds."
And, listen, Steve is like, 97% sure Eddie's cool. More than cool, even. He moves that bandana to the same pocket every time he changes his jeans, no matter what outfit he's wearing. There's no way that's an accident. But if Steve is being totally honest, which he's trying to do more these days, at least inside his own brain, this is maybe not the way he'd have chosen to come out to his crush. It's somehow way more nerve-wracking when he didn't even get to say it himself.
Oh well, it's out there now. It's fine, probably.
Still, there’s a definite feeling of relief when Eddie turns that megawatt grin on him again.
"Man, I wish I'd known there were other queers in Hawkins, I might have listened sooner when Henderson told me how cool you guys were!"
Steve laughs, only a little hysterically. "Dude, if you thought you were the only one, what the hell have you been wearing that hanky for? Who are you hoping will see it?"
It's a little gratifying to see Eddie go flaming tomato red in seconds. "I am not talking about that in mixed company, Steven. There are children here!"
"Ugh, we're literally teenagers."
"Tiny baby infants! If you're so curious, you can ask me again later."
"Promise?" Steve can't stop himself from grinning wolfishly.
Eddie tugs his hair in front of his face to hide, and the frantic little giggle and the quiet "Oh my god," he lets out both sound more than a little strangled. Steve's having the time of his life right now.
"Gross." Ugh, rude. He glares at Robin for ruining his fun. She sticks her tongue out at him.
Before they can devolve into the inevitable slapfight, Nancy cuts in again.
"Alright, unless anyone else has anything to share in private, I think we should take Eddie's suggestion and get something to eat." Good thinking, Nance. "To celebrate the happy couple, of course," she adds with a smirk. Yeah, that makes more sense.
"Onward then, my noble companions, to pizza and to paradise!" Eddie vaults off the beanbag, sending Jonathan and Argyle tumbling. Argyle laughs and accepts Eddie's hand up, while Jonathan just rolls his eyes good-naturedly.
Eddie slings an arm around Robin's shoulders as they head for the basement door. "So, Birdie, what's this I hear about a wedding? I need context."
As the kids go thundering up the stairs, arguing about who gets to drive in which car, Steve lingers. He noticed Will hanging back from the others, and now they're the last ones left, Will still slowly packing up the pens and notebooks he seems to carry around with him everywhere. Jonathan is hovering anxiously in the doorway, so Steve sends him a nod and waves him off. He's got this.
"You ready to go, kid?"
Will fidgets with the zipper on his bag for another few seconds before looking up at Steve through his, frankly tragic, fringe. "I'm sorry your parents suck."
"Yeah, man, me too." Steve shoots him a wry little smile. "It's alright though, sometimes we're better off without them. I've got plenty of family here that love me, I'll survive without Richard and Diane."
Will studies him for a minute. Steve's not sure what he's looking for, but he hopes he finds it.
"That's what Jonathan says about Lonnie." Steve nods, trying not to wince at the memory of the things he spat at Jonathan that day in '83 when everything changed. "I used to think it was my fault he left, but Jonathan says he was just a bastard, and it's better he's gone anyway."
"I didn't know Lonnie," he's careful not to say your dad, "but from what I've heard, Jonathan's probably right. And he's definitely right that it's not your fault."
"Like it's not your fault your parents kicked you out?"
"Yeah, exactly like that. If it was my fault, that would mean I did something wrong. The only thing I did was exist, and be different than they thought I would be. If they can't love the kid they had, then they shouldn't have had a kid at all. That's their problem, not mine. There's nothing wrong with me."
It doesn't matter if he heard all of these things from Robin first, if he's still trying to learn to believe them. Will needs to hear them like they're true, the same way Steve does.
"Are you sure?" Will's voice is trembling now. He's looking at the floor, but Steve can tell there are tears coming. "How can you be sure this is how you're supposed to be? Wouldn't you rather be normal?"
Oh, kid. "I mean, yeah, maybe it would be easier if I only liked girls, but I don't. I tried for a long time to pretend that I did, but it didn't make it true. And yeah, part of me wants to hate myself, because that's what they taught me to think, and I still kinda wish doing that would make them love me, but it won't. But honestly, you wanna know the biggest thing?" Will nods.
"I can't hate that part of myself without hating Robin, and there's no universe where I could hate Robin. Robin's perfect. She's the best person in the world, and she's gay, so being gay can't be bad. It's impossible. So whenever that voice in my head starts saying shitty things to me, I just think about how much I love Robin and tell it to shut up."
There's a beat where Will seems to be absorbing this.
"How did you know it would be safe? To tell us the truth?"
"I didn't."
Will stares at him in shock.
"Not a hundred percent, anyway. I was pretty sure, but it's never a guarantee with stuff like this, you know? But the other option was never telling anyone, and that...it gets tiring, you know? Always having to hide. Always having to check yourself. Lying when people ask the wrong questions. It wears you down. And I've fought monsters with you guys. I've been tortured by spies with you guys. If I can't trust this group to have my back, I can't trust anyone, can I? And I didn't want to live a life of not trusting anyone. I didn't want Bobbie to live a life like that. So, we took a chance. And it paid off, because all of you are the people we thought you were, and we were right to trust you. But it was a leap of faith, dude. It always is."
"What if I'm not ready?" Fucking shit, this kid. He's been through more than any of them, except maybe El, and he's still so goddamn brave. Steve would have crumpled like a tin can in his place.
"Then you're not ready. It's not a test, Will. There's no right or wrong answers. But I will say that every single person out there loves you, and they'll keep loving you no matter what you do. They're not like my parents, or Lonnie. Our friends aren't broken inside the way they are. Their love isn't conditional. You won't chase them away. You couldn't if you tried."
Will lets out a shaky breath, clearly fighting back tears. Steve leans against the table and keeps his head down, offering the kid the illusion of privacy while he pulls himself together. After a few minutes he speaks up again.
"You ready to go, you think?"
Will nods. He goes to walk past Steve to the stairs before hesitating and, to Steve's surprise, wrapping his gangly arms around him in an awkward hug.
"Thanks, Steve," he mumbles into Steve's shoulder.
Steve runs a hand down his back uncertainly. "Anytime, kid."
He keeps his arm around Will's shoulders tentative, but when the kid doesn't shrug him off or move away, he lets it settle more firmly, tugging him closer.
“Come on Baby Byers, let's go get some pizza. You think I can milk the disownment thing to get Eddie to pay for extra toppings?"
Will snorts. "I think Eddie would pay for as many toppings as you want as long as you do that little eyelash thing at him again."
Steve throws his head back and laughs, long and loud from his belly. Yeah, it's gonna be a good night.
my head hurts too much to keep writing this but please know that the pizza parlor engagement party involves plenty of arguing about roles in the wedding party, resulting in MOH erica/best man dustin (scoops troop babeyy), flower girl team lumax (max demanded the role bc her wheelchair means she can carry extra baskets of petals, and lucas will be pushing the chair so her hands are free. he's just excited to be there.) nancy/el bridesmaids and byler groomsmen (mike grumbles and groans but he's secretly thrilled). jonathan does the pictures and it turns out argyle got ordained back in cali as a joke so he officiates. eddie plays crimson and clover for robin’s wedding march. there’s a bit of a kerfuffle when claudia and the sinclairs both try to claim steve as their son, but after someone makes the argument that charles and sue have two kids to carry their name while claudia only has one, they end up hyphenating and becoming the buckley-hendersons. yes, claudia cries. yes, they get the lasagna recipe.
(at the pizza place, eddie asks what his role will be and steve says he doesn't know yet, but he'll save him a dance regardless. eddie has to hide in the bathroom to stop blushing.)
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#platonic stobin#dustin henderson#will byers#eddie munson#appalachian eddie munson#the party#not tagging everyone bc i don't want to clog character tags but the gang's all here#inklings of steddie#for what it’s worth i’m firmly in the camp of ‘will is out to el so she knows about gay people’#the stobin lavender marriage fic#almost#the pre-stobin lavender marriage fic is more accurate#this is mostly a coming out to the party fic#idk i had fun with it#but my head hurts and tags are hard#happy reading i'm going to sleep#my writing
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no reason to hide
written for @steddie-week day 1 | prompt: secret relationship
rated: t | wc: 4.5k | tags: Max POV, Max & Eddie friendship, Max & Steve Friendship, Steve and Eddie are keeping secrets, coming out, post Vecna, everybody lives | complete fic on ao3
The first time she notices something strange is going on between Eddie and Steve, is when Max wakes up in the middle of the night from one of those ghastly dreams that have been haunting her since the whole Vecna fiasco went down.
She does what she always does when she can’t fall back asleep - goes to sit on the steps outside of her home to listen to the familiar sounds of the trailer park, looking at the sky, the stars and the moon, reminding herself that she’s back in the real world. That the Upside Down and all its monsters are a memory of the past.
It’s been almost a year and things have finally gone back to how they were. Well, mostly.
Sure, those nights where the monsters come crawling back into her subconscious are draining sometimes, but after everything that happened to her, nightmares, a walking stick, and glasses are a small price to pay. She could’ve paid a much higher one, could’ve lost it all. She’s fine. And at least the nightmares are a burden they all share.
Her friends have them too, those restless nights. And even if that doesn’t make it better, the fact that they are in this together makes it easier, at least.
Max knows she can always count on them – her now-again-boyfriend Lucas and the stupid but lovable dorks Dustin and Mike. Even El and Will, who went back to California, are always just one phone call away.
She has Steve, who – while Nancy and Robin went off to college – didn’t leave.
He’s still here, still taking care of them in his annoyingly loving way, even though they don’t need him to be their protector anymore, technically.
She’d never say it out loud, would rather eat her own tongue than to admit it, but to know that he’s part of her life is kind of... comforting. Because he’s graduated from babysitter to friend long ago, has proven time and again that he’s a good guy with a big heart. Max likes him a lot, can understand why Dustin was always so drawn to him.
And then, there’s Eddie.
Before being caught in a war against evil and nearly walking into the light at the end of the tunnel together, she never really cared much for him at all. (And no, she did not have a very stupid, very tiny crush on him when she learned about him playing guitar in this awesome band. Anyone who suggests otherwise can talk it out with her fist, okay?!)
She had often wondered how much truth was behind all the rumours, the Satanic Freak allegations. Because while he obviously liked to cause trouble every now and then, he always seemed... nice. A little boisterous, maybe, but never violent or evil.
And then she got to know him when they were trying to prove his innocence while being caught in their final battle against evil, and realised how much they had in common.
How Eddie, like her, wears a mask to protect his vulnerable pieces inside. Carrying the burden of a broken home and too much pent-up anger on his shoulders.
Max sees a version of herself in Eddie, and seeing how far he’s come – even if he himself doesn’t think he has – is encouraging, in a way.
She never told anyone, but out of everyone, Eddie might have played the biggest part in her recovery.
When she opened her eyes for the first time after being in a coma, the first blurry face she saw wasn’t Lucas or Steve or even her own mother.
No. It was Eddie.
Half his body in bandages, leaning heavy on his crutches holding him upright where he was standing beside her hospital bed, smiling down at her, which looked painful because of the stitches on his left cheek, but it was warm and friendly and honest.
And in that moment, when the memories came back and the world came crushing down, Max was glad it was him that watched her fall apart. Because with Eddie, she didn’t feel the need to pretend that she was fine. He let her cry and wince in pain without commenting on it, just took her hand – no words of pity, no promises of false hopes, just a tight squeeze of her hand in silent support.
Their friendship evolved from there, got even stronger when they were both fighting their way through physical therapy, from frustrating setbacks to miraculous accomplishments.
He’s annoying sometimes, like a brother, but he’s the kind of friend that you love to fight with because you know they’ll never hold a grudge; Eddie's friendship is unconditional and Max cherishes that more than she'd ever tell him.
Eddie, like her, finds it hard to sleep sometimes. So, more times than not, when she goes to sit on the steps in the middle of the night, she finds him outside his own trailer – smoking in silence or listening to music with his headphones on.
They don’t usually talk, just share a few moments together in peace until their minds have calmed enough for them to get ready to conquer another day.
This is why Max doesn’t startle when she hears the familiar squeak of the Munson’s trailer door. Only when a car door gets slammed close, does she look up.
Weirdly enough, it isn’t Eddie who’s going for a ride. It isn’t his van that slowly turns and rolls out of the driveway.
It’s Steve’s car; there’s no doubt about it. She knows that car better than Steve likes to be reminded of.
What the hell is he doing at Eddie’s place at 2 in the morning?, Max wonders, worries that maybe something is wrong.
But moments later, the trailer door opens again and Eddie steps out, dressed in his pajama pants, lighting a cigarette like he always does. He seems calm, happy. Not at all like something bad has happened.
Until he notices her and his eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open with the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.
“Max! How- how long have you been out here?”
She doesn’t exactly know why she doesn’t tell the truth but something about the way Eddie looks at her tells Max, he might not want her to know about his nightly visitor.
“Just came out like, maybe a second before you did,” she lies, watching his shoulders drop as the tension in his body eases.
“Oh, uh, okay. Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna talk?”
“Nah, just needed some fresh air. You?”
“I- I’m good. Just, uh, just couldn’t sleep.”
They sit there for a while, both awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other, before Max can’t take it anymore, says her goodnight and goes back inside.
There is probably a good explanation for it all. Maybe Steve couldn’t sleep, too. Maybe he went to Eddie for some weed? (Don’t act so surprised. She might just be a teen but she’s not stupid, okay?)
Whatever it is, Max will never know because going by the way Eddie reacted when he saw her, she’s sure he doesn’t want to be questioned about it.
It’s fine. It’s none of her business anyway.
And Max forgets about it entirely until something strange happens again a few weeks later...
keep reading
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I just realized that in s5, instead of a parallel to Mike breaking down with Hopper and just doing that again, I want one with Mike and Jonathan.
Something interesting about Jonathan is that he tends to be pretty quiet in situations where literally everyone is being critical of Mike, notably in the scene at Hopper’s canon when he blurts out that he loves El. That whole scene everyone is ganging up on him, most notably Nancy, but the whole time Jonathan is just staring at Mike, deep in thought…
We also know he witnessed A LOT in s4 in regards to Will and just the whole truth of the situation might be closer to him then we realize. Like for example, even though we didn’t see Mike’s expression in the van scene after the painting reveal, with it being blurred from our view, Jonathan on the other hand did see it. He also was there for that and the monologue at SB where he basically just used Will’s words to try to save El. And so what does Jonathan think about that?…
While I know the expectation for a lot of fans is that Jonathan like hates Mike bc of him hurting Will as of the last year or so on a couple notable occasions (now El too presumably), I think there is still something complex about their relationship that would make for a pretty epic television.
Not saying the scene couldn’t start out with some clashing and stuff, bc I mean after all the literal same thing happens with Hopper and Mike in s2. The scene starts confrontational and emotional only for Mike to start sobbing and literally fall into Hopper’s arms for comfort. Even in the following scene he chooses to stay close to Hopper’s side, like it’s clear his outburst had less to do with Hopper ‘lying’ and more to do with all of his bottled emotions coming to head in that moment. And in the company of a man that he looks up to, who is basically seeing him at his lowest.
And I think Jonathan and him having a moment like this, in their own way, maybe related to El again like the talk with Hopper, but I think it ending with it being about Will and Mike breaking down again, maybe thinking Jonathan hates him and then turning it on himself like no one hates me more than I hate myself for how I feel. Or just him basically getting emotional over a similar situation to s2, but us basically getting the Will side of it this time, which would essentially re-contextualize the s2 scene as well.
Another reason I think this scene would be incredible honestly, is because Finn very clearly looks up to Charlie, with him literally following him around on set and you can just tell they have a very close bond that would make for incredible chemistry on screen as Jonathan just like Hopper (arguably even more so), is in this male position of someone that Mike looks up to, who also knows sides of him that quite frankly no one does, it has the ability to be a really emotional and gratifying moment.
Maybe Jonathan is being a little bit curt with Mike and it leads to an argument of some sort. Though it ends with something along the lines of Mike just breaking down and Jonathan comforting him like I never hated you Mike and him just holding him and them talking about their true feelings about the situation.
Mike’s never gonna get that sort of deep and emotional bond with his father, so it feels almost poetic that he’d have these moments with the two men in Will’s life who’ve also had a huge impact on Mike’s life as well and who he will be tethered to forever as family bc of his relationship with Will.
I need it and I need it yesterday.
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The Babysitter Chronicles - Byers
Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 3.9k || cws: check tags || full fic ao3
Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper
Can be read as a standalone
~~~
Steve’s filled with dread, standing in front of the Byers’ front door at 6:30am on a Saturday morning. Out of all the kids’ parents, he’s pushed Joyce off as long as he could manage. But he’d promised Mike he’d try, and according to Jonathan, this is the best time to catch her.
That doesn’t change the fact it’s not even light out, and a boy she probably hates is about to knock on her door. Hell of a way to start the day.
He knocks anyway.
Joyce opens the door in a soft grey t-shirt and baggy black sweats. Her hair is brushed through, mascara coats her long lashes, and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the open door. At least he can find small consolation in the fact she’s been up for a while.
“Hi Joyce, I mean Ms. Byers,” he stumbles, off to a great start. “Sorry to catch you so early but–”
“No,” Joyce interrupts, voice firm.
Steve stands there, mouth hanging open around an unfinished sentence. He watches as her eyes harden. She squares her shoulders and stands straight-backed and tall, only reaching about Steve’s shoulder. Joyce Byers in all her fury still makes him feel small, like maybe this was a bad idea.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” Joyce says. “But I know why you’re here. And the answer is no.”
“Oh,” he responds lamely, deflating even further.
Her voice is soft, but she’s unyielding. “The kids like you, and I know their parents are ok with you watching them. Which is fine, for their kids.”
She pauses, and Steve knows what’s coming. Mentally prepared himself for the worst-case scenario. All of Dustin’s logical arguments and Lucas’ hype talks couldn’t prepare him for how thoroughly Joyce flays him open.
“But, Steve, I would never trust you with my kids.”
Even though he's desperate to run, he plants himself like a tree on her front stoop. He's trying not to be that guy. The kids deserve the best version of him, and on some level, he knows cutting out the bad parts of himself includes letting Joyce Byers drag him through the mud.
He tries to hold her gaze, really he does. Her dark eyes are filled with conviction, but he can see the gentleness to them as well. Almost sad, like he’s making her do this to him.
Joyce grips the door, knuckles white with tension. She takes a step out onto the front stoop, forcing Steve to take a measured step back. The door stays cracked and the smell of burning toast reaches his nose. Nausea rises in his throat.
“They shouldn’t have even been in those tunnels in the first place,” she says, voice growing louder as she gains momentum. “We asked you to watch them, we trusted you with them, and they still almost got killed! And I know, I know, you helped Jonathan and Nancy last year– saved them from that, that thing crawling out of our walls.”
Her eyes flicker over her shoulder, like the demogorgon’s still haunting her house. He follows her gaze, like Billy could still be standing in her living room with a blood-stained, toothy smile.
She sighs, exasperated. At her wits end for being pushed into a conversation she’s probably been dreading for weeks, since it seems she knew what he wanted. “But you’d be with my baby, my Will, everyday. He’s had bullies since kindergarten, and it’s only gotten worse since everything.
“He doesn’t deserve more bullies. And from what I’ve heard, you’re no different. Just like your father.”
Steve flinches– can’t help himself– the sentence ringing through his head.
Just like your father.
“No, no I’m not, I swear,” he chokes on the words as she steam rolls his pathetic lamentations.
“You’ve pushed my boys– and kids just like them– around your whole life, making them feel small for having less money, less friends, less stuff. Every time Jonathan came home with a new bruise or bloodied knees, how do I know that wasn’t you?”
Steve’s watering eyes are fixated on the small, furious woman before him, flushed with a rage familiar to any decent mother protecting her kids. He’s trying so hard to hear her, but his head is filled with static and his mouth feels stuffed with cotton. Steve wipes his hands down the front of his pants, then shoves them in his pockets.
“You called my boy queer! Something I’m sure you heard from your father. I saved for months to get him that camera for his birthday and you just smashed it, like it was nothing. Like we’re nothing.”
Neither of them notice the pair of shadows moving beyond the door frame in the living room.
“I cannot allow someone like you around my boys,” she hammers home. This is what Nance meant by a thesis statement he thinks deliriously. “Sue and Karen might be alright with it, but my answer is no.”
Steve sniffles and nods stiffly as turns to leave, hoping to at least make it to his car before the tears start. He knows he deserves what she’s said, knows the truth of it in his gut, but he’s stood here long enough. Now it’s time to run and hide, like his mind’s been screaming to since she set her sights on him.
“Mom,” Jonathan says, out of breath like he ran here from his bedroom. He’s appeared over Ms. Byers’ shoulder like a ghost, or a ninja– silent and on the attack. “What’s going on?”
He’s a sleep-rumpled version of his mom, wearing a plain, soft t-shirt, and grey sweatpants scattered with light bleach stains. Steve notices he still has pillow creases on his left cheek. His gaze follows the red indent down to Jonathan’s jawline where a small, purpling bruise is haloed by faded red lipstick.
All of the air in Steve’s lungs is punched out of him, hard and fast. A feeling he should be used to from Jonathan Byers.
Steve thinks he sees a flash of pastels in his periphery, dashing through the trees to the road. Or maybe it’s his imagination. It doesn’t matter, because he can’t look away from the uncomfortably familiar mark on Jonathan’s neck.
Jonathan must notice. His hand flies up to his neck, wiping the mark and finding a smear of red on his fingers. The spell holding Steve breaks, and he can breathe again.
Their eyes meet, and Jonathan’s cheeks now match the stain on his fingers. It’s awkward and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it or how to make this easier. Because Steve never knows how to fix things, only how to break them. Something Joyce seems well aware of.
Distracted, Steve’s just now noticing the small shadow creeping up behind Jonathan. He sees the young boy poke his head out from behind his brother’s back as he takes a small step towards the commotion.
“Steve was just leaving, sweetie,” Joyce answers, voice soft and sweet as she turns away from him to go back inside.
“Wait, no that’s not what I meant,” Jonathan continues. He shakes his head and roughly pushes his unruly bangs from his eyes. “Steve, why are you here?”
Jonathan’s looking at him like he knows the answer. And he should really, considering the only reason Mike agreed to have Steve as his babysitter was because Jonathan promised he’d talk to Will about it, and then they’d talk to Joyce.
A long train of telephone Steve was relying on to get a head start at Joyce’s good will. Which, apparently, never happened.
Steve plays along into Jonathan’s prompting. She’s already said no, so what’s one more try with a little back-up.
“I was asking if I could babysit Will, since I watch the rest of the gang too. Can’t leave any party members behind,” Steve says, parroting Dustin.
“And I was just telling him–” Joyce starts, before she’s interrupted.
“I think Steve would be a great babysitter,” Will says. His hair’s a mess, and he’s straightening out his matching Star Wars pajama set as he steps further into view.
Joyce rushes over to him, squatting down to meet his eyes. “Will, honey, you don’t need a new babysitter. You can still spend time with your friends at their houses, when their parents are home.” Jonathan takes the distraction to wave Steve into the house, silently closing the door behind them.
“But the other parents don’t know about– you know,” Will hesitates, before mustering up the courage to say “about what actually happened to me.”
“Baby,” she says, gently running her hands up and down his small arms. “You know we can’t tell them. We went over this.”
“It’s not about them knowing the truth,” Will says. Steve watches as the boy tries to make himself bigger, taller, even with the slight shake in his voice. “They just look at me like I’m broken. They’re sad when I’m around and they just think I was kidnapped or lost or– whatever the story is. That I was sick or something.”
Steve can’t help but imagine Will Byers, always the shy, quiet kid in the Party, having to constantly withstand the severely misguided pitying glances from adults who aren’t read-in on vast government conspiracies and alternate dimensions. Steve’s almost nineteen and can barely manage alone.
Her brows are knitted tight and her lips downturned the more Will confesses. “Well, Jonathan can–”
“I don’t want Jonathan to watch me anymore.”
Joyce’s eyes widen, confusion painted across her face as her mouth drops open. Steve turns to glance at Jonathan to find that, unlike his mother, he’s not surprised at all. In fact, there’s a light shining in his eyes and a small uptick to the corner of his mouth.
The tension is thick but familial, leaving Steve unwelcome and gawking at a private conversation. Which he supposes he is: both unwelcome and gawking.
“Go on, Will, it’s ok,” Jonathan encourages. He shines with a proud smile, like he’s watching his little brother walk for the first time.
Will’s hesitant, his eyes downcast as he shuffles side-to-side. Waiting for him to continue, Joyce stays quiet. Steve can’t help but feel envious of Will and Jonathan at having a mom patient enough to hear her son outright, even when she doesn’t agree with him. She saved him from an alternate dimension, but sometimes the little things are just as important.
“When Jonathan dropped me off at Steve’s for DnD last week, it was fine… at first.”
“You both told me that was at Mike’s,” Joyce interrupts, turning a motherly glare at Jonathan who sheepishly avoids eye contact. She rounds on Steve again, closing the distance between them in three long strides to get in his face. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Steve. What if something had happened and I didn’t know where to find him because of you?”
“Mom,” Jonathan interrupts, irritated. “That’s not fair. We are the ones who said it was at Mike’s– Will and I. I knew you wouldn’t let him go if you knew it was at Harrington’s place, so I told Will to lie.”
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have let him go,” Joyce argues, turning back to Jonathan. “He’s not safe there! I know Steve Harrington and I know his parents. What if they had been home?”
“They haven’t been home in weeks,” Steve mumbles. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, catching himself off guard. Years of practicing the lie, and he slips in front of the last three people on earth he’d want to know about his home life. He’d never complain, not to them.
She shoots him a confused glance, an emotion behind her eyes Steve refuses to consider. But it seems she’s the only one whose noticed he said anything at all as Jonathan speaks up again. Shaking her head, she shifts her attention back to her son. In the midst of the chaos, Steve breathes a small sigh of relief.
“Mom, it was fine– everything was fine. Just–” Jonathan stops. He gestures to Will to keep going.
Will puffs his chest up, holding his mom’s gaze as he barrels on. “I liked having it at Steve’s. It smells nice, like candles, not like farts and laundry detergent like Mike’s basement. He had all the snacks we like, and he’s got a huge table that can fit all our stuff.”
The kid’s smiling now, and goddamn if it doesn’t melt his heart. Steve’ll be disappointed if Joyce says no, but at least he knows for a fact Will felt comfortable around Steve and liked being at his house.
“But after Jonathan picked me up, Lucas said they stayed up and watched movies all night. That Steve even made an ice cream sundae bar and there were a million toppings.” Will’s arguing is starting to sound like a petulant child, a slight whine to his tone, and Steve can tell Joyce is losing her patience.
“Will, that’s something you and Jonathan can do. We’d love to do sleepover nights with your friends.”
“No, Mom,” Jonathan states, strong in a way Steve’s never seen from him before. His only tell is the waver behind his voice. Steve’s willing to bet Jonathan would rather face down another demogorgon than take on his own mother. Yet here he is, sticking his neck on the line for Will.
“What do you mean, no?” It’s barely a question.
“I don’t want to babysit Will anymore.” He quickly closes his eyes and shakes his head, like an etch-a-sketch. “No, wait– I’m not babysitting Will anymore.”
The room falls deadly silent. Joyce’s lips flatten into a thin, white line, matching the color of her knuckles. She looks ready to explode, like how his father used to look before the first blow.
Steve flinches when she takes a step towards Jonathan, and she clocks his reaction just like before, but ignores him to glare at her oldest son.
“I want to spend more time with Nancy.” Jonathan’s eyes are wide, like he forgot Steve was there, and he can see an embarrassed flush painting his ears. Steve just shrugs. It is what it is, he’ll get over it like he always does. Jonathan relaxes a bit. “I want to get a job so I can take her on dates that are more than just driving out to the quarry.”
“Jonathan,” Joyce jumps in, “you can’t get a job. You’re grades are slipping as it is and you don’t have time–”
“Exactly! I don’t have time for a job right now. But if Steve starts watching Will after school and some weekends, I can get a job and keep my grades up and spend time with Nancy.”
She’s shaking her head, but Jonathan plows on before she can jump back into the fray.
“Billy Hargrove is a goddamn monster, Mom. He almost killed Steve! And we all know the kids would’ve found a way to get to the tunnels no matter what. Steve was beat to hell and still went with them.” Jonathan points at Steve’s face in emphasis, like a fucked up version of a pretty model showboating a new car. Except the model is the guy who stole his girlfriend, and the car is a has-been with a fucked up brain and no future.
“And last year,” Jonathan continues, “Nancy and I would be dead if he didn’t come back for us. After everything that happened between us, he had no reason to turn around. Hell, I’m not sure I would’ve.”
He doesn’t know Jonathan Byers well, but Steve knows for a fact Jonathan would’ve faced death to save him– to save anyone. It’s not even a question.
Joyce still doesn’t seem convinced. “Everything that happened last year is exactly what I’m worried about, Jonathan.”
“It’s my fault, not his!” Jonathan shouts. “It’s my fault he got sucked into this mess, it’s my fault Nancy left him, and it’s my fault he broke the camera!” Color drains from his face. Steve freezes, staring at him.
Steve still hasn’t told anyone why he broke the camera– none of them have talked about it, and he never planned to bring it up. Ultimately he’s thankful that the pictures exist, since it provided the only clue to Barb’s death and the Upside-Down.
But he doesn’t understand why Jonathan took the pictures. And it doesn’t change the fact Steve closes his blinds every night.
“What do you mean, your fault?” Joyce asks, out of sorts.
He stammers a bit, looking to Steve for help. Steve doesn’t want to have this conversation at all, let alone in front of Jonathan’s entire family. He glares back at Jonathan, tersely shaking his head once.
Lie.
He gets the gist, relief stark on Jonathan’s face.
“Steve caught Nancy and I sneaking around when we were looking for Barb and Will,” Jonathan quickly recovers. “We didn’t want him poking around, so we let him think we were flirting. But some pictures I had taken of Nancy fell out of my bag, and Steve saw them. That’s why he broke my camera.
“We ran into him and his friends later while they were spraying up The Hawk. I didn’t know it was all Tommy Hagen’s idea, so I got in Steve’s face and I hit him first. He called me queer, and that’s shitty. But he apologized, saved our lives, and bought me a new camera. So–”
Jonathan turns to him and holds out his hand. It reminds Steve of his father, but also of Hopper, which he decides is a more apt comparison.
He reaches out and Jonathan grasps his hand firmly, shaking it up and down just once, yet continues to hold on. Forging a new pact for the future.
“Steve, I’m sorry about everything.” He seems genuine– eyes wet, shoulders set, and back straight. Steve tries to match his posture. He might not be as good with words as Jonathan, but he can at least show this moment is just as important to him. “But you helped protect the kids so we could save Will. And you saved Nancy and me. So– I trust you.”
Steve can’t handle this. It’s too early in the morning for heavy emotions and deep confessions, but Jonathan’s searching for forgiveness in the face of a former bully. Steve steps up to the plate and meets him halfway.
“I shouldn’t have broken your camera, I know how expensive they are and how much it meant to you. I was angry and I wasn’t thinking. And I, I umm–”
Steve realizes he’s never really had to apologize to someone before. Sure he’s apologized to Nancy, but it seemed like a normal thing for guys to always apologize to their girlfriends. He’s apologized to Dustin, but that’s more like placating a rowdy toddler.
This feels different, somehow bigger. Maybe it’s because Jonathan’s his own age, or someone his parents have programmed him to think is lesser than himself. Maybe it’s the deep regret that’s made itself a home in Steve’s stomach, rotting away at the memory of a vicious word spat haphazardly at a stranger.
“I’m sorry I called you queer. That’s fuc– I mean messed– up, and I’m sorry.” Steve sighs, running a nervous hand through his hair, less painful with the stitches removed. He almost misses the stinging sensation. “It’s something my dad says all the time and it was the first thing I thought of, and I hate that. I’m not my dad, I never want to be like him.”
Jonathan nods and pulls Steve forward into a hug, and when they separate Steve feels lighter. A heavy weight he hadn’t known about, removed from his shoulders with Jonathan’s help. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Jonathan felt the same way by the smile on his face.
“Yeah!” Will shouts, unprompted and overly excited for the tone of this entire conversation. There’s a wide grin on his face when he holds up his hand to high-five Steve and cheers “welcome to the Bad Dads Club!”
Steve scoffs, shocked but completely delighted and confused at Will’s eager declaration. Joyce smacks her hand to her forehead and mutters something like jesus christ under her breath, while Jonathan barks out a laugh.
He grabs his little brother by the shoulder and shakes him like a rag doll until Will breaks out into giggles. “Will,” Jonathan says, failing to keep a straight face, “remember when I explained the difference between family jokes and not-family jokes?”
Will’s smile fades slightly, red embarrassment splashing his cheeks as he quickly glances between Jonathan and Steve, realizing his social blunder. Jonathan squeezes his shoulder and gives him a sad, reassuring smile. But Steve won’t be the reason for the small frown tugging on Will’s lower lip.
Steve holds out his hand, palm up. He smiles at the kid, eyes alight with mischief. “Bad Dad’s Club,” Steve says, like it’s more than just a fucked up childhood and is instead forging a pact, binding them through one shitty commonality.
Will returns his smile and high fives him, who then turns to his brother. Jonathan laughs again when he pulls Will in for a hug instead, shrugging at Steve.
Joyce’s gaze travels between the three boys standing in front of her, and Steve can see the moment she cracks.
Her stance has softened. Her lips are still pursed, her eyebrows only slightly furrowed, but her arms hang relaxed at her sides and she’s looking at Steve less like she wants to throw him out and more like she doesn’t know what to do with him.
“You get one week,” Joyce says sternly, pointing a finger in Steve’s face. He goes cross-eyed looking at it, but he can still see Will and Jonathan high-five. “One week of picking him up after school. I get done at Melvald’s at six, so you can bring him home at six-thirty.”
Before Steve can wholeheartedly agree, she rounds on Will and Jonathan next, who stand at attention, trying to stay serious through their own excitement.
“You,” she points at Jonathan, “better keep your grades up if you’re getting a job.”
“And you,” she gestures to Will, “better have all of your homework done when you get home. If you can’t get it done at Steve’s house, then you don’t get to go.”
She backs away from them, taking a deep breath in and exhaling loudly. “Is all of that clear?”
Waves of yes’s pour from their mouths. Will wraps his arms around his mom’s waist and Jonathan lightly punches Steve’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Ms. Byers,” Steve says as he turns to leave, “I’ll make sure you don’t regret this. Any of you.”
She sighs, a small sad smile on her face. “I really hope that’s true, Steve.”
On the drive home, he realizes she never mentioned the slip-up about his parents’ absence. He’s grateful for it. Talking with adults has never been his strong suit, and his conversations with each of the kids’ parents are starting to weigh on him.
The Byers’ might not have as much money or means as the Harrington’s, but that doesn’t stop Joyce Byers from being a damn great mom. So he’s not surprised she took note of his own small mishaps. Maybe she’ll bring it up one day, maybe she won’t. All Steve cares about is that he finally has the opportunity to earn the trust of the fiercest parent he knows.
~~~
#content warnings ->#they all have shitty dads#references to will and jonathan being bullied#re-hashing steve and jonathan's fight when steve called him queer#joyce calling steve a bully#joyce is FIERCE and if I was a mom who dragged my kid back from hell I'd be worried too#but steve's a sweetie she just hasn't realized it yet#i went SO HARD on jonathan and steve#the catharsis of them apologizing#joyce byers#steve harrington#jonathan byers#will byers#good babysitter steve harrington#protective mamma bear joyce byers#emotional hurt/comfort#steve harrington whump (but it's so small guys(gn) you're gonna love it)#the babysitter chronicles#queeniewritesstories
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This shot has been discussed extensively about how it hints at byler and El eventually figuring it out, but I want to talk about the drawing just before this one. And maybe even consider a different context for this drawing too...
The drawings are completely different. This one has a wider head and the thought bubble is skinny. These two drawings symbolize different things.
So what does this version of the drawing mean? Well just listen to what El is saying. She says that Vecna is going to be in someone's mind, but the thought bubble that represents the mindscape is above Will. This means that Vecna is already in Will's mind. But Will doesn't feel him until he gets back to Hawkins... why? And why would Vecna be in Will's mind during the finale, but we never see? Well... we did.
The Upside Down is Will's mindscape. This is hinting at that. Vecna has been residing in the UD the entire season, and we do in fact see this in the finale.
If that didn't convince you then the next thing El says will. El mentions Terry and Billy who both have a shit ton of parallels to Will. Terry's mind loop sequence relates to Will (see here). Billy's name is literally William, he had an abusive father, and he was possessed, all things that relate to Will. Interesting thing to bring up while the mindscape bubble is above Will.
Terry's mind is in a loop/stuck in time and so is the Upside Down. Billy's mind was stuck in the memory with his mom on the beach. The Upside Down is stuck because of a memory. Will's memory.
Let's bring El's drawing back into it's original context for a second. The girl in the middle represents Max. The two figures in the mindscape are Vecna and El. But they're above Will. So Max's mindscape somehow also collided with Will's. When did this happen?
When she travelled to the Snow Ball. Vecna and El are both in her mind at the same time during the Snow Ball. This is when El's drawing comes true! And this is when it connects back to Will!
This is the only time we see the California crew once El reaches the Snow Ball memory. Will is almost entirely out of shot! We don't see his reaction at all here. Very convenient that we don't see even a snippet of how Will is feeling during the Snow Ball sequence. We only see him again once they go into Vecna's mindscape...
OK! But how do we know the Snow Ball memory connected to the UD at all? When Vecna showed up, so did the spores. It started rotting and turned dark just like the UD. The only thing that's missing is the vines which we see in Vecna's mindscape later.
(I already have another post explaining how Max's Snow Ball memory links to the UD being stuck in time here!)
Robin says that Nancy's house is frozen in time, not the entire UD. We honestly don't even know if the entire UD is stuck on the same day. It's entirely possible that the Wheeler house is stuck on November 6th, but other parts of the UD are stuck on other days. Why? Because Will travelled into a memory.
When Will got kidnapped, he was probably trying to think of happy memories because he was scared and accidentally ended up in a memory. This transformed a once rocky smoke land into Hawkins.
What memory? This is where the other byler drawing shot comes in. El's drawing lines up with Mike and Will here to represent how Will chose a happy memory with Mike (and others) to hide in when he got kidnapped. Not just a memory Mike is in, but MIKE'S HOUSE! We only saw evidence of the Wheeler house being stuck. So I think Will thought back to the most recent happy memory of the party playing DnD just before he got kidnapped. This would place Will at the Wheeler house and explain why it's stuck on that day.
If the rest of the UD is on different days, it's possible that Will mastered this trick and continued memory hopping until the entire UD transformed to replicate Hawkins. But if the entire UD is in fact stuck on the same day, maybe Will wandered too far out of the Wheeler house memory and this triggered the rest of the UD to look like Hawkins.
BUT I’ve also been recently pondering another theory. The UD isn't just Will's mindscape, but multiple, or a meeting place for mindscapes. Perhaps Vecna's collection of minds completed the Hawkins puzzle being pieced together in the UD. Will contributed first, but so did other victims. Evidence? Max's Snow Ball memory was already seen in the UD at the end of s2.
The Snow Ball decorations are there. This along with Robin's comment proves that the UD might not be entirely stuck on the same day. The Snow Ball decor shouldn't have been there if that were the case because the dance wasn't until December, not November. As I said in the other post I linked, Max travelling into her Snow Ball memory influenced the UD version to replicate it. There's some time paradox stuff happening here.
So basically: El's drawing hovering above Will was not only to hint at byler, but also to link him to the concept of memory travel, implying that he has done this before, despite us never seeing this occur… or did we?
#i clickbaited with byler#evil laughter#will's mind theory#will byers#stranger things theory#byler#el hopper#max mayfield#mike wheeler
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We're Shit Out of Luck, Munson
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
Masterlist Part Two
Summary: You're excited to take a trip north to Steve's cabin with all your friends. That is, until you're snowed in alone with Eddie.
Word Count: ~10.5k (I'm sorry)
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Improper knowledge of how a fire stove works. Sort of strangers to lovers? One Bed Trope!!!
A/n: This took way longer than I'd like to admit. I just couldn't get it work, but I hope it's good enough now :) Please let me know your thoughts! Love hearing from you all, and thank you for reading <3
--
The wheels of Nancy’s car churned up snowy roads under drifting clouds and floating snowflakes from above. In the rumbling backseat of her car sat you in the back, your head leaning toward the window. She drove, her bracelets jingling whenever she turned the wheel, while Jonathan sat in the passenger seat.
Some Fleetwood Mac song played through the old speakers, your head bobbing along as your eyes danced along the white landscape leading your way north – away from Hawkins and away from regular day-to-day life for just a few days. The three of you were planning to meet Steve, Robin, and Eddie there for an extended weekend away at a rarely used cabin Steve’s family owned.
A knit hat hugged against your head, a heavy coat weighing along your body as you thought toward spending time with some you knew well – missing the days of standing doubled over again in laughter together every other day – and others you were excited to get to know better.
Like Robin, who Steve had talked endlessly about how great the two of you would get along – though he seemed to especially say it after you teased or annoyed him. Or maybe like Eddie, your face quirking just a little at the thought.
You didn’t have anything against him, though you had only met him once. But it was just that you weren’t someone who would climb on cafeteria tables like he did back in high school or speak the way he did. You weren’t sure just yet whether his unashamed self put you off or impressed you.
Once your body had begun to ache from sitting for so long, you leaned forward, pushing yourself past the supplies containing clothes, food, movie, board games to rest a hand along Nancy’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re almost there, right?” you asked, peering at the map stretched across Jonathan’s lap.
He cleared his throat, stretching his legs before muttering, “Yeah, we should be there soon. It’s at the end of the road after we turn onto Lake Street.”
“Oh, is there a lake? Maybe we’ll do some ice fishing,” you suggested, humor in your voice as you leaned back into your seat.
Nancy let out a soft laugh, raising her eyebrows in a “maybe” sort of gesture and glancing to Jonathan.
He merely put his hands up. “You two feel free, but I think I’ll stick inside with all of my fingers warm and still connected to my body.”
With a smile, you returned to the view outside, watching it slowly change from straight county roads to winding dirt ones with trees growing thicker on each side. Swaying branches dusted off snow with each passing breeze.
Old brakes squeaked as Nancy pulled the car next to the cabin. Just as you thought about where the others were, Nancy muttered, “They’re probably not getting here until dark, if it’s those three trying to leave on time.”
You put down “chronically late” into your mental descriptions of Eddie and Robin, imagining Steve standing next to the car and waiting for them like the mom he often acted as. Spending time with the kids sometimes required a small escape like this, or at least it certainly seemed from Nancy’s urging to get away from Mike.
She huffed while getting out, but you just took it as a chance to get first pick at the cabin rooms. Grabbing your bag and hauling along food, you walked to the door as Jonathan asked, “Are we sure this is the right place?”
Glancing down, you saw a snowy welcome mat that said, “Live, Laugh, Love” – you turned around and shouted a giggly “Oh yeah.” Though all laughing died down as you tried turning the knob to open it… but nothing. Of course.
“Hey Nancy,” you called back to her at the car’s trunk, “Did Steve happen to give you a key to getting into this thing?”
You pressed your coat closer against your chest, trying to shield yourself from the wind, though the noisy breeze did nothing to hide Nancy’s sigh. “No, he didn’t. He said they’d be here in time, so it’d be okay.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded at the solemn information. Your breaths out made swirling white in the air in front of you as your boots creaked down the wooden steps. You searched around for a window that could be propped open and crawled through, but most seemed too high off the ground. The others refused to budge, even with all three of you trying to pull. Either they were locked or frozen shut out here.
A thud sounded out when your head rested against the cabin, slowly coming to terms with the rocky start to the getaway. Instead, you all were left inside the car, intermittently turning the car on to get enough heat going without wasting all of the gas.
“Go fish,” Jonathan told you for what seemed like the hundredth time, making you mutter under your breath.
Your cursing only increased when Nancy asked you, “Got any eights?” You shoved your eight into her hands, ignoring her smug smile and ready to give up on this game. It’d been a couple rounds of her winning every single one.
All of your heads popped up at the same time as rumbling came from behind, eyes catching a large van pulling up on the other side of the front of the cabin. You breathed a sigh of relief at the unmistakable flowing hair of Steve through the passenger seat window after what felt like an hour. “Thank the lord,” you whispered before the three of you clambered out.
Nancy was the first to speak, her nose red like yours. “Steve, if you don’t open this cabin right now, we’re stealing it from you and locking you out.”
You guessed he would’ve had wide eyes and a surprised response, but he looked tired, nodding with a straight mouth. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, tossing the keys to her.
The wave and smile Steve your way had you returning them as you went to hug him quick. “You’re so lucky that’s all you’re getting from Nancy. Another half an hour, and you’d be getting much worse threats from me,” you laughed.
As you turned to grab your things and finally find a warm blanket or bed or shower – something – he sighed out, “Hey, don’t blame me. Eddie here woke up late and was supposed to be the one picking us up. But I appreciate your kindness.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s good to see you though.”
“Good to see you too,” you said, patting his shoulder. And you meant it. That contagious smile and corny jokes were well-missed by you.
Making your way inside with your things, you wrapped your arms around yourself and grumbled under your breath things about Eddie that certainly didn’t help in his favor toward impressing you.
Stomping off the snow from your boots and slipping them off, you rushed through toward the rooms. You found three, which it didn’t take much mental math to figure out it’d have to be two people per room. Jonathan and Nancy would take one of them, leaving you with Steve, Robin, or Eddie. In the moment, though, you didn’t care too much as you picked a room at random and muttered your way into the bathroom with fresh clothes for a hot shower.
The steaming water dripped along your body, slowly warming your frigid fingers and toes. A long breath emptied from your lungs toward the smooth shower tiles, sending a warm shiver through your body. You weren’t sure how long had passed before you eventually turned the shower off, the leaky shower head dripping water droplets over and over again as you stepped out and dressed.
You exited the bathroom expecting your bags to be right on the bed where you had set them. You had no reason to expect otherwise, until you were met with the chaotic sight in front of you.
Technically, your things were still where you had set them, but they – along with the rest of the bed, most of the floor, the wooden dresser – were covered in clothes, candy wrappers, toiletries, and… were those mini figurines? You only took one step into the room, making the floor creak below you, before a wild wave of hair popped up from the other side of the bed.
Wide eyes stared into yours, big brown ones that nearly made you forget about the mess. That is until Eddie spoke up. “I uh, lost my Walkman. Tryin’ to find it before I go insane listening to their music.” He motioned his head toward the door with an unamused look on his face.
Listening for a beat, you heard music coming from the living room – which seemed to be “Material Girl” playing. Nodding, you looked around while asking, “Are you sleeping here?”
Eddie still rummaged through his bag as he muttered, “By the time I got in this woodsy cabin, everywhere else had been picked, and Robin was already nearly started the place on fire trying to start the wood stove before Nancy stepped in. So I guess?” He turned to you then. “Are we roomies?”
Between his lateness that caused you to sit in the car and freeze your ass off and having to now dig your things out from his mess, you pressed your mouth tight while thinking of your options. “I’ll be right back,” you told him, flashing a flat smile.
You didn’t give him time to answer before you left, seeking out Steve. You found him in the kitchen unpacking some of the refrigerated food. Walking right next to him, giving him a sweet look, you helped him put away some things.
His sigh filled the quiet space between you two. “What is it?”
“Have I ever told you how good your hair looks, Steve?” you asked.
“Of course. Now, what do you want?”
Groaning, you whispered, “I did not sign up for having Eddie Munson as my ‘snowy getaway’ roommate. Please switch with him. Or with me, I’m sure Robin is better.” You looked at her laughing in the living room while watching Nancy try to teach Jonathan to dance, unsuccessfully.
Steve let out a breathy laugh. “If you find uncontrollable snoring and sleep talking better, then maybe. But I already promised Robin I’d room with her. And you have those freezing fingers that I don’t want to wake up with on my back.”
“I promise I won’t do that, even if you are the greatest furnace I’ve ever known,” you begged.
He looked at you, stopping his unpacking and tilted his head. “What’s wrong with Eddie as your roommate? He’s not all that bad.”
You glanced back to your room to make sure he wasn’t listening. “I’m sure he’s not, but he’s been in there for two minutes and already trashed it. And I’m not exactly the type to share a bed with a stranger.”
“Well you could just talk to him. Or get to know him so you’re not strangers,” he offered, glancing toward the room. Your eyes followed, seeing that Eddie was walking out. You had meant what you said, that he wasn’t terrible – maybe you’d even like his sense of humor or laidback personality. But you already liked the rings wrapped around his fingers and the crinkles around his eyes – and all of that mixed with having to lay mere inches from him all night had you hesitating.
You quickly gritted out, “He could just sleep on the couch though” while bringing a smile to your face as Eddie approached.
Steve looked the same, leaning over to whisper, “Or you could.”
You’d seen the couch, a fancy one that looked as if it hadn’t ever been sat on. Your back hurt from just thinking about using it as a bed. There were no other quiet protests you could give before Eddie made it to you two, the chain on his jeans jingling with each step.
“Harrington, you seen a Walkman around here or in the van?”
Steve shook his head, sending his hair swishing along his face. “I’m sure you just missed it when shoving nearly everything you own into a single bag, Munson.”
“Except for extra underwear. I did forget those,” Eddie said with a sad sort of grin, though it turned happy at seeing your twisted face. “Just messing with you, roomie. Though I did forget toothpaste.” He pretended to bat his eyelashes, silently begging for you to share yours and only stopping once you gave in.
His hand patted Steve’s shoulder before walking away to ask the others whether they’d seen his Walkman. With a tight mouth, you just looked at Steve with pleading eyes.
“He can borrow some of mine,” he offered.
You leaned your head against his shoulder in a silent “thank you” before making your way back to the room, planning to unearth your bag to settle in. To your surprise, most of Eddie’s things were cleaned up – or at least shoved to one side of the bed, which you appreciated as you opened up your bag, putting away your things into the drawers.
This was okay. You’d only spend the nights in here, and that was only part of the day. You’d be having fun elsewhere the rest of this time out in the snow or sitting among friends in a nice cabin. This was still going to be a great getaway, no matter what came.
“Oh shit.”
Your head jerked up at the sound, your heart sinking for a moment at hearing Steve say those words. The music quieted down a little, sure someone had turned it down at the outburst. Making your way back, you found everyone else staring at Steve as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Anyone seen the packs of beer?” he asked, his voice low like he already knew the answer.
At everyone shaking their heads, Robin spoke up. “I thought you were bringing them.”
He nodded, putting his other hand on his hip – his classic mom pose. “Yeah, yeah I was. Except they’re back at my house, just sitting on the counter,” he sighed out. “I forgot them when running out of the house when Eddie pulled up.”
Groans echoed out in the space, a quiet “Way to go, Steve” from Robin joining them.
“Well, how about a trip into town? That could be nice,” Nancy offered, clasping her hands together. “Grab some beer, check out the stores too.”
Jonathan peered out the window, pulling open the blinds. “It’s stopped snowing for a bit. Is it supposed to pick back up?”
You shrugged your shoulders like the others, none of you having bothered to check the forecast. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s get this road trip going,” Robin said with a toothy grin.
“We already had a road trip,” you said with a laugh.
“Well, a mini road trip then. Maybe there’s a Family Video there, Steve. We could use our double employee discount to get The Apartment for basically free.”
“Robin, you’ve already seen that literally a hundred times,” he responded.
“But not a hundred and one times.”
You smiled at the sigh he gave as opened up his hand to Nancy. “I can drive.”
Nancy nodded, digging out her car keys before throwing them to him. Most of the others started making their way to the door. Though it wasn’t snowing, you weren’t yet ready to weather the cold so soon again.
“I might stick back here, if that’s okay. Stay warm for a little longer,” you told them, giving a small smile.
“Want us to pick you up anything?” Robin asked as she shoved a winter hat on her head.
You waved them off, happy enough to just have the place to yourself for a bit of quiet before everything got going. But your body stilled when Robin turned to look past you, asking, “What about you, Eddie?”
“Besides beer? Nah, I’m good,” his voice sounded. You began to chew on the inside of your cheek, suddenly debating on joining the group after all. Your chances of relaxing went down to zero, instead launching in the other direction of keeping you on edge.
But Steve gave you a pointed look, as if telling you to stay and get along with Eddie. Between his flared nostrils and a breeze pushing through as the front door opened, a fresh wave of frigid air coming through, you just swallowed hard and nodded. You gave them a wave and locked the door after they left, soon watching it pull away.
You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you slowly turned around, preparing yourself to say something to the near-stranger you shared this cabin (and bed) with. But all you saw was the tail-end of the towel sticking out of Eddie’s back pocket as he walked into the shared room, calling back, “Taking a shower” right before the door shut.
Standing in the middle of the cabin, staring at the space where Eddie had just been, your stomach twisted. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. Leaving you with the empty rooms of the rest of the place, you grabbed a snack from the kitchen and the book you’d left on the counter. Taking a blanket thrown over the back of the uncomfortable-looking couch, you sat in a La-Z-Boy next to it, tucking your feet under yourself. You weren’t sure how many pages you made it through before leaning your head back and slowly drifting off into sleep, the crackling of the fire and winds gusting outside weighing on your eyelids.
–
The second Eddie shut that door to shower, his mouth opened in a silent scream as his palms came up to his face. Only once he started the shower did he release a groan, fingers coming up to wind through his hair. He trashed the room of one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen? God, he must’ve looked so dumb and selfish looking for his Walkman.
Where did he put that damn thing anyway?
And he saw the way you talked with Steve right after, probably begging him to switch rooms. A sharp pang ran through his chest thinking of you running to mother hen Steve to tattle on Eddie – all spiraling because he’d forgotten to set his alarm last night. He deserved a little slack, right?
He would’ve tried to make a better introduction if he knew he’d be meeting you. He was sure someone had mentioned it earlier, but after hours of listening to whatever Steve and Robin deemed “music” in his van before being unable to escape it even here, his mind wasn’t altogether there.
He’d stayed back from the beer run to shelter from more musical soundtracks, but he hadn’t expected you to stay too. So here he was, standing in the bathroom, head resting against the tiled wall as he thought of the least annoying way to share this room – or at least not make you hate him during this weekend.
Eddie’s shower burned against his skin, scalding water dripping down him and washing away the bad start. The curls of his hair grew heavier as he washed it. At least this place had hot water.
As he dried off and dressed, his lungs filled deep with breaths and emptied them fully, preparing himself to face you again. Silently opening the door, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel, he padded across the floor back and forth for a while. He wasn’t sure how long he’d spent arguing with himself on how maybe hash this out, occasionally taking breaks to tidy his things further – maybe that’d help? As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, he threw down his towel he’d somehow picked up again to find you and fix this. And find you he did.
His breaths grew much shallower, quieter, at seeing you curled up in that plush chair, blanket and book resting against your body. Though he knew if you woke up to see him staring at you, there was no way you’d stop hating him. But your chest rose and fell in even waves, your eyelids twitching once in a while, your fingers intertwined with one another. And as he was about to turn around and go back into the room to leave you asleep and content – without him – his eyes returned to yours one last time to find them already staring at him.
–
The scream you let out rang through the air, echoed by expletives from Eddie. Hand clutched to your chest, you gritted out, “Why were you staring at me? You scared the shit out of me!”
His teeth clenched together, eyes wide, as he nearly yelled, “You? You scared the shit out of me. Jesus… just came out to check on you, got a fucking heart attack instead.”
Eyebrows screwed downward, you replied, “Is that how you check on people? By staring at them until they wake up?”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, though not quite as menacing as it could have been. “I’ll leave you out here to die next time, sweetheart.”
“Die? From what? The only thing that’s made me fear for my life was finding a mysterious man standing over me,” you scoffed, a hint of an incredulous smile across your face.
That made his face change, a growing smirk replacing his grimace. “Ah, so you think I’m mysterious,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and your eyes flicked down to his forearms more than once. And maybe at the way his damp hair curled against his shoulders.
“Mysterious like a man wearing a trenchcoat at the end of an alleyway, maybe,” you told him with a hint of laughter in your voice, your gaze rising up to see his face screwed tight.
“Yeah, well at least–”
Whatever retort Eddie had fell flat as the phone rang right next to you. Your gaze went between it and Eddie’s for a brief moment before you threw off the blanket and your book just as he scrambled to it as well. But your hand reached it first, your other pushing him away from getting it.
Your fingers grasped the handle, rasping into it, “Hello?”
“He- hello? Can you hear us?” The voice crackled through the receiver, though it sounded familiar. But Eddie by your side whispered, “Who is it?”
“Robin?” you asked, ignoring him.
“Hey!”
“Where are you all? You’ve been gone awhile,” you said, though only guessing from how much darker it seemed outside.
“Oh yeah, about that. We’re in the middle of butt-fuc– Hey!” The sound of rustling and distant voices talking over one another on the other end erupted into your ear before Nancy’s voice came into focus.
“Still there?” she asked, a bit out of breath.
“Still here, Nance,” a smile evident in your voice.
She huffed out a breath before speaking up again. “We’re stuck here in town. Snow blocked my car in while we were shopping – we can’t get it unstuck no matter what we try–” More noise comes from behind before Nancy’s voice comes from farther away as she says, “We are not using Steve for traction.”
You assumed she said that to Robin, and you’d laugh if you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nancy let out a long sigh. “No one can come get out to us today… or even a few days if the storm stays this bad.”
Your eyebrows lowered into a deep valley. “Storm?” you asked. You craned your neck toward the nearest window, unable to see much outside with the sun far down now. As you did, you caught Eddie’s face in the reflection looking stern, making you turn to him.
He waved a hand at you, mouthing something that you only caught every other word of. You mouthed back “What?” but held up a finger as Nancy began speaking again – leaving Eddie with his arms crossed and jaw tightening.
“Yeah. Ugh, I was stupid not to check beforehand. But we’re not making it back tonight.”
“Not at all?” You knew the question didn’t quite make sense, but your eyes flicked to Eddie for a moment, your heart crawling up your throat. All it did was make him whisper-yell at you to tell him what was happening. “What about all of your things here?” you asked, your voice much quieter. There was no way they’d be able to walk all the way back, especially if this snowstorm was as bad as she was saying.
You could practically hear the frustration laced through Nancy’s words. “After we walk to the one motel this town has, we’re going to buy toiletries and things. We’ll try again tomorrow and call you, but in the meantime, are you two okay by yourselves? I know you and Eddie don’t know each other too well.”
Glancing at Eddie again brought his patience to an end, his legs bringing him to your side and holding the receiver between both of your heads to listen. The proximity of his body so close to you all of a sudden had you stepping back, eyes merely blinking at him as you tried to answer, but the way he looked at you didn’t make words come any easier. Eventually, you let out, “Uh, yeah, we should be okay. We brought enough food to last us.”
His gaze held yours, his eyebrows raising high at your words. He mouthed, “Why?” but Nancy responded first.
“Good, good. Okay,” she breathed out, “Sorry about all this, but we’ll hopefully see you tomorrow then.”
You didn’t think Eddie’s face could’ve twisted further in confusion, but you were mistaken. “Yeah, see you, Nance,” you said, your own voice feeling distant from where your mind was at. The line clicked to an end after saying goodbye, the receiver falling limply with your hand.
Before you could even collect your thoughts, Eddie spat out, “Can you finally tell me what the hell is going on?”
Your head jerked back just an inch before your eyes rolled. This was going to be a longer weekend than you ever thought. Instead of answering him, you walked to the cabin’s front door, pulling it open carefully so the wind didn’t fling it off its hinges. Standing there, gazing out into the world, you felt Eddie’s feet walk across the floor until they stopped next to you.
With the front porch lights illuminating the way, you could see heavy flakes pelting down onto growing piles of snow. It wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise as to how their car had gotten buried so fast after seeing how much snow blanketed the world.
“They’re stuck – staying in town tonight,” you finally muttered. “They’re shit out of luck.”
He rubbed a hand down his face, fingers tangling in his hair as a groan rumbled up his throat. “No, we’re shit out of luck. Jesus.”
Despite the view of endless stars littering the sky, goosebumps started littering your skin. Your hands grasped the door handle and pushed it shut and locked before resting your head against the thick wood.
“Well,” Eddie said from behind, making you turn and watch him shift from one foot to the other, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “At least we don’t have to share a bed anymore.”
You let out a mostly unamused snort, lifting your head to shake it back and forth. “That’s the least of your problems. They had all the beer.”
“Shit…”
–
The two of you had nearly started a fire and a fistfight in the kitchen while trying to make a late-night dinner. This cabin felt ancient, none of the appliances working how either of you thought they would. Eddie tried to come in to help, hoping it’d mend some sort of relationship between the two of you, but he ended up pulling off one of the dials. Instead, while he piled up logs high into the wood stove for the night, not knowing if any of what he was doing was right, you rummaged through food to make a couple sandwiches.
In silence, you two sat at a creaky dining table and ate a meal that wouldn’t fill you up and that would have you searching for snacks in the middle of the night. But he was having dinner with you, trying to not stare at you too much – though, part of him thought “How could he not?” There was a way you spoke, lived, breathed that had him strangely captivated and wanting to know more.
“So…” he started saying in between bites of his surprisingly delicious sandwich, “do you forgive me yet for scaring you?” He tried to sound sincere, but a wry smile rose along his cheeks.
Tilting your head, you told him, “Might be my memory, but I don’t quite remember you apologizing for it, Eddie.”
As his name rolled off your tongue, he couldn’t stop his face from flushing for a second. But his grin came back almost immediately. “Think it’s your memory then.”
“While how about you refresh it for me,” you said, looking at him expectantly. The crackling of the fire filled the air between you, its heat wrapping around his body while you waited.
A few emotions crossed his face, determining the right way to do this, before he finally said, “Sorry about it.” He shrugged. “Not sure you could blame me for staring me for staring at you, though I didn’t realize you were so jumpy.”
Eddie’s throat felt tighter as he swallowed down the risk he took to say that, but he’d say it a million more times if it meant to see the way you paused, your face turning shy as you looked away.
“See…” you said, your voice returning to you as you pointed at him with your sandwich, “I don’t think that’s a very good apology. Not sure why it’d make me forgive you.”
“It came from my heart.” His hand came to rest on his chest, right above his heart with a solid thump. His fingertips felt the way it beat just a bit too fast for his liking. His apology wasn’t good, but it got you to talk to him some more, and that felt like enough.
Flat-toned, you told him, “Sounds like you should go to a cardiologist, cause your heart gives shit apologies.”
Dramatically, he pretended to stab a stake through his chest. “Great, now you’ve wounded me.”
“Clean up dinner and I’ll forgive you, okay?” You stood up with a smile you tried to hold back, only moving to the living room once he wordlessly nodded. “Thanks.”
He felt glad you weren’t watching at how fast he put the few ingredients away and tidied up the table. He glanced at you while you gathered up your things, your face a bit shyer as you approached him.
“Gonna get ready and head to bed. See you in the morning, yeah?” you said, making a pang hit his chest in a way that left him confused and nearly breathless.
“Yeah, sleep well,” he muttered, hands back in his pockets and playing with the coins left in there.
Standing in the cabin alone as your door shut, only accompanied by the hot fire and chilling winds outside, had Eddie walking to bed with too-loud thoughts. Had he won you over? The way his body seemed to care so much about the answer to that question didn’t help his tiredness as he climbed into bed.
–
Despite the constantly creaking house under the harsh force of the storm’s wind, the night passed quietly at first, only accompanied by your occasional tossing and turning. You went to Steve and Robin’s bed that night, leaving Eddie in the one you were supposed to share with him. You thought of your friends and hopefully what plans they had in store for all of you once they made it back tomorrow.
Robin had a million movie recommendations for the group to watch. Nancy brought games for you all to play. Mostly, you just wanted to catch up with everyone that you hadn’t seen in awhile, happy to finally find a time to be together, but look where you were…
Sleep came and went, and came and went again until you woke up a few hours later with a chill climbing up your spine. Your weary blinks barely did anything, the room soaked in dark. Though if you had been able to see, you would’ve expected to see your breath billow out into the air.
How did it get so cold? Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to curl tighter against yourself and fall back asleep. But it evaded you, slipping away through chilled fingers and goosebump flesh.
No part of your body agreed, but you slid out of the bed with a blanket wrapped around you. Your feet curled against the cold floor as you made your way to the fire stove, doing your best to not run into anything.
In the dark, you could spot the last embers in the fire stove still dying out. Shit, you hadn’t been paying attention to where Steve’s family kept the logs. While searching in the dark for a light switch or the logs, pain erupted through your toe as you stubbed it against something.
A subdued groan stuck in your throat, one hand over your mouth while the other went to your toe as you bent down. Breaths came from your nose in rough bursts, the cold air only making the pain worse.
Feeling around, you vaguely recognized what you ran into as Eddie’s bag he’d brought out at some point last night. You silently cursed him before making your way to his room, exhaustion fueled by the cold weighing on your eyelids and shoulders, slowing you down.
Fingers wrapped tight around the blanket still, you knocked on his door once, twice, three times… you lost count when he didn’t answer. Fed up, you creaked the door open and whispered, “Eddie?”
Only once you repeated his name louder did he stir, his mouth releasing a groan from beneath the sheets.
“Hey, Munson. Where’s the firewood?” you asked, walking closer to him.
His hand came up to rub at his eyes. “Jesus,” he mumbled, “it’s freezing in here.”
He couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. The wood stove burned out, where’s more firewood?”
“I used the last of it when I filled it. Thought it’d last us awhile.”
You didn’t want to absolutely lose it on Eddie, but the heat of your frustration felt welcome in your cold body. “You used the last of the firewood in a winter storm? Are you trying to get us killed?”
He sighed out, “I’m sure there’s more somewhere.”
“Where?”
“How should I know?” he asked, sleep still laced through all of his words. You envied him and wanted to strangle him. “We can look in the morning or call Harrington, okay?”
“And what, do we freeze until then?” you asked, pulling your arms in closer to your body. You weren’t sure you had enough layers to last you that long.
Shifting himself over, Eddie offered, “You could join me to share body heat or whatever, or you could leave. Either way, I’m falling asleep in the next 60 seconds.”
Your face twisted, nails digging into the softness of your blanket. Part of you wondered whether freezing during the night would’ve been better than sharing a bed with Eddie, the first thing you tried to avoid after getting here.
But his hand flopped over near you, and you could feel the warmth of him washing onto your thigh. With a final shiver through your spine that you blamed on the cold and nothing else, you grumbled, “Let me in. And watch your hands.”
He held up his hands as if to show you he wouldn’t dare, not that you really expected him to. Climbing into the bed, your body relished in being near him. Your tired muscles loosened with the heat as you curled against him while he laid on his back.
“Shit!” Eddie nearly yelped as your cold feet accidentally brushed against the skin of his legs.
“Oh suck it up and warm me, Munson.” You pressed closer to him still despite his protests, and despite the nerves firing inside you. Your blanket stayed wrapped around you like a burrito, acting as a barrier between your bodies at least a little bit. Maybe it’d be enough to let you fall asleep without overthinking all of this.
But the blanket constricted your upper half, so as you wiggled against Eddie to get comfortable, you brought your arm across his chest. Hoping that didn’t go too far, you began to ask him, “Is this oka– are you not wearing a shirt?”
Pulling back a bit, you tried to look him in the eye… and maybe lower. But the darkness obscured any glimpse.
“Got warm when going to bed. Shirt’s somewhere on the floor. S’that okay?” For once, his voice sounded void of teasing. Instead, you could tell he angled his head to try and get a look at you as well.
Settling back against him, laying your head against his shoulder and pressing your body to his, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Was it okay? Your fingers rested along his ribs and unable to get the feeling of his bare chest out of your body’s memory.
The weight of his hand resting against your back and the slight tickle of his wild hair brushing along your face warmed more than just your skin. All of this breathed intimate, made you close in more than a physical way.
“Good night, Eddie,” you whispered. Your body began to relax as the chill left in favor of the blooming warmth he provided you.
Against your head, he whispered back, “Good night, sweetheart.”
You thought sleep would be impossible while wrapped together with him, and while calling you those pet names, but the comfort of your breath falling in line with his had you tipping toward exhaustion. And though you seemed to be bursting with thoughts and questions, Eddie had vowed to go back to bed soon, so you shut your eyes to let him sleep, falling into unconsciousness within moments.
–
Eddie did not fall asleep soon, not even close to the 60 seconds that he had told you. Not with you snuggled this close to him, your soft breath sliding against his skin with each exhale. He was sure you’d fallen asleep then, little noises sounding from the back of your throat kept his mind racing and his body all too aware of yours.
When your thumb had rubbed back and forth along his skin, his brain went blank then burst back online when his stomach tingled. Did he really have god damn butterflies from that? At least it seemed he’d won you back over from pure annoyance to mild tolerance.
He hadn’t told you, but he’d been cold too. Eddie absolutely wouldn’t have told you about the way his heart lept into his mouth when asking you to stay in the bed together. Or how wide his smile had gotten when you actually said yes. Each time you twitched, he feared you had gotten cold again or had some bad dream. But there you stayed, in his arms.
No part of him could tell what time it was by the time his tingling nerves finally settled and warmed. Dipping toward unconsciousness, he knew he’d sleep better than he had in a long time. And he did, with you pulled tight against him and refusing to let go.
–
The sun peeked its body up above the horizon. Light streaming in painted the frosting swirls adorning the window in a rainbow of shades. The absolute silence out here in the winter felt welcome against your ears. Through everything this trip had brought, at least you had time to sleep in.
And Eddie took full advantage of that. As your eyes blinked open, you found him out cold – but he certainly didn’t feel cold. The first thing touching your awareness was the feeling of Eddie pressed against your back, the rising of his chest and pounding of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped across your ribs and came to rest his hand on top of yours.
Silently, a soft smile rose on your face as his nose nuzzled against the back of your neck. Who knew he loved to cuddle so much? As each quiet minute passed, you seemed to care less and less about the minor ways he had annoyed you through this trip so far. Well, not completely – but at least this was nicer than bickering with him or being stuck outside.
Despite the chill still in the air, your body ached to stand and stretch. As you slipped from Eddie’s grasp, you glanced back at him. In the morning light drifting past the curtains, you could get a better look at him. But only a short one, not wanting a repeat of what he’d done to you yesterday. Facing you, your gaze took longer than you’d like to escape from staring at his arms and chest or how his hair cascaded across his face and onto the skin of his shoulders.
He had nice shoulders.
Shaking your head, you opened the door to let him continue resting, which apparently he really needed. While he slept in through most of the morning, you’d managed to make breakfast, get washed up and ready for the day (and covered in many, many layers) and actually read this time – with the record player on its lowest volume. Through the busyness of work and college, you found it hard to capture (let alone appreciate) moments like these anymore.
You’d checked outside again and again to see whether the snow had miraculously melted since you last looked. But each time you pulled back the curtains, the blanket across the land still sat there – though snow continued to fall, it drifted slower now. Its quiet and undisturbed body looked peaceful, comforting in a way despite everything.
Though not unwelcome, the soft air broke once the phone rang. With quick footsteps, you went to it and picked up, rushing out, “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Nancy again,” the voice on the other side breathed through the receiver.
Maybe you should’ve asked how she was or how she slept, you skipped past any pleasantries. “Any good news?” you asked.
The sigh Nance let out told you the answer before her words did. “Wish I had some. Everywhere within a hundred miles is facing exactly what we are. No one’s getting anywhere for a bit, barely even plows.”
You swallowed down a deep groan, your fingers tightening around the phone. “There’s no way you’re getting here today?”
“Maybe, if we’re lucky. I’m sorry.” And she did sound sorry, but she was the one stuck in a motel room in a tiny town buried in snow.
“Don’t worry… I’m sorry you’re roomin’ it in that motel for the time being. And with those two children,” you laughed out, breathing easier when hearing Nancy’s laugh too. You vaguely heard her say something else, but you turned to look at Eddie’s room to see the door open.
Your eyes roamed across his sleepy state as he walked toward you, the back of his hand coming up to rub against his eye as he yawned. His hair laid at odd angles, the curls raining down on a faded Judas Priest shirt he now wore, which hung down onto a pair of black sweatpants. You couldn’t quite look away, a warmth in your chest at seeing him in such a state. Only hearing your name through the phone brings you back.
“Sorry Nance, what was that?” you ask, shaking your head and keeping your gaze elsewhere.
“Just wishing you luck on your extended vacation with Eddie,” she said, a slight humor in her voice, almost as if she knew what just went through your head.
You nodded even though she couldn’t see – maybe she could apparently, or you were just that obvious – but you followed up with, “Yeah, good luck too. Keep us updated?”
“Of course,” she said, and your mouth pressed tight. Perhaps from missing out on this time with her or perhaps from the impending conversation with Eddie in a second.
“Oh wait!” you said louder, “Please ask Steve where the extra firewood is. We’ve burnt through it.”
Nancy mused out loud, “We should’ve had one of you there when he explained all this. One second, I’ll ask.” You imagined her whispering to Steve while Robin was still asleep.
While sounds of shifting and moving went through the background, you watched as Eddie grabbed the blanket you’d been using on the couch and wrapped himself in a burrito. You turned away to hide your smile, thankful Nancy came back.
“Hey, he says it’s out back in a log rack. And that you only need to put some in the stove at a time, not too many or it’ll burn out faster,” she explained to you.
You thanked her, and the click of putting the receiver back echoed through the room. A silence settled before Eddie finally asked, “They on their way back yet?”
Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you angled toward him as you answered, “Uh, no. Quite the opposite, actually. There’s a small chance they get back today.” Gesturing to the window with the head, you followed with, “Snow’s probably not stopping soon.”
You allowed yourself to glance back at him while he looked past the curtains, knocking his head against the glass with a groan. “This storm has a vengeance against my quest for beer.”
Letting a laugh out through your nose caused him to stare at you, eyebrows furrowing in a way to ask you what was so funny. Shrugging, you told him, “You certainly have a flair for dramatics.”
He crossed his arms as he stood tall. “Maybe you’re not being dramatic enough. We’re stuck here for a whole weekend.”
With wide eyes, you asked, “Oh, having to stay here with me calls for melodrama and agony?” Eddie’s face looked hesitant, even speechless for a second, until you were unable to hold back your smile anymore.
His eyes roll back, his usual demeanor coming back quickly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to share a bed with me, sweetheart.”
Your fingers came to pick at the hem of your shirt, eyes drifting downward. Your grin fell, throat tight as you struggled to explain yourself. “I, uh…”
His shrug followed with, “S’alright. We made up for it last night.” He let out a small laugh, one that didn’t quite ease your embarrassment. “Where’s this firewood though? Freezing my tits off here.”
That did get a giggle from you and let your shoulders ease a little. If Steve were here, he’d give you an “I told you so” about communication or whatever, but you were just glad Eddie wasn’t too upset.
Still, you couldn’t stop your sigh as you told him, “Firewood’s out back in some log rack apparently.”
Raising his eyebrows and pulling his blanket tighter, all he offered was, “Well, good luck. Have fun with that. I’ll be here to warm you up again when you get back.”
“Ahh… no. You’re the reason it burned out in the middle of the night. So if anyone is going out by themselves, it’s you, Munson.” You crossed your arms, letting the silence grow louder as you two stared each other down.
“Fine! We’ll both go,” Eddie gritted out, shuffling back to his room. You slipped on boots, a hat (or two), gloves, and your coat. You were plenty tired of the all too familiar chill aching through your body.
But as Eddie came back out, you barely contained an explosive laugh at seeing him covered up. A ratty sweatshirt bulged against him, clear that he wore many layers beneath it. And he at least had on two pairs of pants.
“Not one word,” he muttered, about to grab his shoes when you convinced him to wear Steve’s boots he’d left here. You also spent too long forcing him to put on a hat – it would “ruin this perfect hairdo” he told you, but you won out.
You were sure the two of you resembled young children bundled up and unable to move well by the time you opened up the front door. The porch allowed you to open it at all, unlike the back door that had a growing wall of snow barricading it.
Both of your boots crunched as you walked around the cabin. Despite trying to shield your face from the wind that seemed to come from every direction, the view you had certainly didn’t get old. Thick trees weighed down with fresh snow all spanning for miles, looking like a scene out of an old Christmas movie.
Nearing the other side, you spotted a rack with a tarp over it, sure to be piled high with logs. Your freezing fingers clenched at the promise of warmth soon. Just as you were about to look for the logs, you felt a thud against your back along with muffled laughter. Eyes narrowed and jaw tight, you turned around to see Eddie very obviously looking away from you, pretending nothing happened – like he didn’t just pelt you with a snowball.
But in his act, he didn’t see you bend down to form your own snowball between your gloved hands. Packing it tight, you pulled back your arm and let it fly, hitting him square in the chest as he turned toward you at the last second.
There was no stopping the shit-eating grin on your face at his mouth dropping open or the way his gaze steeled. The look pierced past all the ridiculous layers, making you feel a little less cold out there. The way his head tilted to the side, awaiting him to make some cocky comment that’d have you internally stuttering – it kept you still, even as he bent down.
“Oh, you are so fucked,” he told you, packing another snowball.
He had no idea how right he was.
The second he stood back up with his ammo, your legs took off in the other direction, feet slipping through the snow as you ran from him. Though the icy air sharpened against your face, your grin stayed, now accompanied by uncontrollable laughter as Eddie chased you.
Rounding the next side of the house, you slipped around the corner to press against the wall, hiding from his view. His own laughter grew louder as he followed, making your teeth sink into your lip to stop from letting out any noise.
As he ran full speed around the corner, which wasn’t that fast in knee deep snow that wormed its way into your boots, you jumped out at him. Your hands landed on his shoulders with a slap, forcing a scream from his throat and his hand to release the snowball.
But he flew back in surprise, his legs tangling with yours and bringing you both down into the sea of snow. White powder billowed up and around your bodies, some of it wiggling into your exposed neck and wrists.
And yet, you weren’t complaining as you landed with your body pressed against Eddie’s, half of your chest on top of his – your faces only a breath apart.
Perhaps you should’ve scrambled back, apologized, or even laughed at him for screaming, but you admired the snowflakes littering his dark hair like constellations against a night sky. Then you glanced to the soft red covering his cheeks and nose, sure that it came from the cold but hoped it grew from something more.
Eddie’s breathing rose and fell beneath you, pressing close and then all too far a second later. You thought you might’ve caught his doe eyes glancing toward your mouth, yours doing just the same, but as he shifted closer, more snow dipped on the back of his neck and down his coat.
“Shit!” he yelled, flying up to try and shake it out, breaking whatever had held you two together for that all too brief moment.
You sat there with a smile, watching him scramble to rid himself of the quickly melting snow. Letting out a long sigh, you stood up and waited until he calmed before nodding your head back toward the logs.
Moment broken indeed as you began to sweat trying to grab as many logs in your arms as possible – no part of you wanting to trudge back out here. Between the two of you, there stood (balanced precariously, really) a sizable amount of logs to fuel the wood stove for a while.
Your body felt a little lighter as the layers of clothes dropped to the floor, your cold cheeks beginning to warm up back inside and out of the wind. This time, you loaded the logs and set the stove ablaze, declaring the spot directly in front as yours for the next half hour.
Eddie, of course, had none of that. He plopped himself next to you, pressed against your side – claiming “it had the most heat, stop hogging it.”
You didn’t stop, not when the still-warming skin of your arm goosebumped as it touched his. The veins running along his forearm occupied most of your thoughts while you two sat there in silence, only interrupted by occasional complaining of a different body part being cold and cursing of this storm.
“You warmed up?” Eddie asked, turning his head to look at you.
If you turned to him, you’d get caught up in the deep brown of his eyes or how soft his lips looked, so continued staring at the flames in front of you. You’d been plenty warm for some time now, but if you told him that, then you’d have to leave his side.
But before you could speak, he brought a hand up to scratch at his neck as he continued, “Cause I was thinking we could watch one of those movies Robin brought.”
Oh, that you could do. “Yeah. You can pick, I’ll go search for that popcorn Nancy put somewhere,” you said, getting up and finding it before he noticed how scattered your brain was becoming.
The TV came to life as kernels popped in the pan you shook on the stove. As you watched each one burst, the nerves of being with Eddie settled back in your body, sleeping against your spine. This weekend hadn’t gone as any of you expected, especially not with seeing this near stranger as cute, charming even – not that you’d tell him that.
And rather than watch The Apartment as planned, you realized you didn’t want Eddie to be a stranger anymore. So you pestered him with questions, not that he seemed bothered. You loved hearing about Uncle Wayne and the auto shop Eddie worked at, or his D&D campaign he was planning at the moment. Not with that smile when you told him about your family, friends, and how work was going. He even vowed to fight your annoying coworker if he ever saw him in public – like you had promised to check out Corroded Coffin when you made it back.
“Like, I know we fight literal demons in our game, but are you sure Tanner isn’t one of them? I mean, who falls asleep in the only bathroom? And locks it!” Eddie said, shaking his head as he filled his mouth with more popcorn.
“Right?” you said in between salty bites, “But as long he doesn’t show up at The Hideout, I’m coming for your show next month.”
And you’d give him a million more promises if it meant making that look spread across his face again – excited grin, cheeks squishing up to make his shining eyes shut. Wow. Maybe you’d put too many logs in, the air feeling much warmer now.
But it was easy, so surprisingly simple to spend the day with Eddie. He played you some of his favorite songs while you both laid on the ground, heads next to each other but feet pointing opposite directions. Every time he bopped his head to the beats, his hair brushed against you. The way his hands shot up to play an imaginary guitar and softly mouth the lyrics had you holding back giggles.
This time, he tried making you dinner. And he did make a surprisingly good plate of pasta – without burning the whole place down. While eating, he nodded along to what you said as if every word quenched some sort of thirst he had for listening to you, for learning everything there was about you. He had this air about him of confidence, but past that, in those soft moments, you saw him settle into a quieter form of himself – one that calmed you too.
And reaching the end of the night, you awaited his question. Whether you’d be staying in his bed again. The fire was fixed; it’d stay lit throughout the night. But the two of you threw on another movie, maybe just so you didn’t have to confront that just yet in case you would separate ways. Your eyelids drooped and you yawned so hard it shook through your body. And that tiredness made your decision just a little easier.
“Hey,” Eddie whispered, resting his hand on your arm and shaking it gently. “Let’s get to bed, alright?”
Your head had drifted down until it rested against his shoulder, so it ruffled his shirt as you gave him a few sleepy nods. Shutting the TV off, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the bedrooms. As he slowed at the split between the two doorways, you kept shuffling your feet, pulling him into his room. Not bothering with getting ready, afraid it would break the unspoken moment between you two, you climbed into the bed and took the leap, holding out your arm as he had the night before.
–
God, he took the space next to you so quick. But he kept his movements gentle, not wanting to rock you out of your sleepy state in case it woke you from this dream you’d created. Eddie settled in, wrapping himself around you and under the covers. Jesus, he spent all night working up a way to ask you for this.
A deep sigh loosened from his lungs that you had done it instead. Maybe it’d been the way your eyes lit up whenever he made you laugh before they shut as you turned breathless, clutching your stomach. Or how excited you got talking about your favorite show at the time, your hands flying through the air.
It’s not that you were intimidating, but you sure made him feel intimidated – nervous that he’d say the wrong thing and make that beautiful smile drop. But it didn’t. He could still see it in the faint light coming from the hallway, and it only grew as he pressed his body against yours.
Eddie really wanted to stay awake, on purpose this time. To enjoy this time as he stroked a thumb along the soft skin of your hip peeking out from under your shirt. But your heartbeat pumped against him, your breath made his fall in line to yours like a steady conductor – leading him right into sleep along with you. And he followed you without question.
–
It was in the late morning that you it happened, it finally came together. Half-awake, you laid your arm on the one wrapped along your stomach. It pulled against you, bringing you closer to the chest behind you. You weren’t yet aware enough to recognize that you weren’t dreaming, that it was Eddie also on the cusp of sleep holding you.
Not until did his lips connect to the point where your neck slopes into your shoulder did your eyes shoot open, any bit of tiredness inside you disappearing in a moment. Your head turned back to look at him, seeing his own eyes shut before also blinking open at your sudden movement.
He glanced between where he’d just kissed and your face, a blush rising to his cheeks as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, um…” he stammered out before pulling his arm and scooting back until no part of him touched you anymore.
You’d done it – you’d broken the tension in the ugliest way, and you felt cold without him there. Turning to fully face him, you rambled to try to fix this in some way. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, really I should be the one sorry for taking your bed and forcing you to sleep next to me–”
“You didn’t force me–”
“But it’s really okay because it was cold that first night and so it made sense. And we both weren’t really awake just now, and–” You’d gotten up now to pace, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. You didn’t want that extra space between you, but he’d done it first and maybe that’s what he actually wanted.
–
Shit. Shit. Shit. How could he kiss you in his sleep? What a god damn idiot. Though he understood why he did it, watching you pace and float through the room like some angel he felt undeserved to kiss.
–
As you glanced at him for just a second, you saw the way his fists squeezed the blanket between his fingers. Oh, how could you have been so stupid to misinterpret things, and now you’ve made him uncomfortable.
Taking a long breath, you finished with, “I’m sorry, Eddie.” Your hand clasped onto your other one as you shifted from foot to foot.
With a hand rubbing down his face, he shook his head. “I’m the one that kissed you, and you’re apologizing,” he laughed out. “I didn’t mean to do that, especially without asking or something first, Jesus.”
You barely heard his next words that he spoke to himself, but your ears held on to every word. “Maybe my subconscious had gotten into my thoughts…”
Your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your next sentence, the rabid butterflies ravaging your stomach. Pursing your lips, you quietly asked, “So… you would have wanted to do that if we were both awake?”
And his face shot up, those eyes the color of melting chocolate meeting yours. He climbed from his side of the bed, shuffling toward you – one of his steps for every three of your racing heartbeats. “Yeah, of course. But I didn’t even ask if you wanted that…” he said, leaving his unspoken question hang in the air.
Fighting the smile trying to rise up, you said, “So, you should probably ask then, Munson.” And the kind light shining from his eyes turned brighter into a tall flame threatening to burn you both. There it was, that cocky way he had.
His hand reached to grab yours, giving it a squeeze before he finally said it. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, gaze unsure of where to stay, definitely your mouth it seemed.
You tried to come up with a million different ways to say yes, to tell him that you couldn’t stand another second without him being pressed against you again. As your mouth opened, a creaking noise came from the front of the cabin, followed by voices.
“We’re alive!” Steve shouted as the group walked through the door and stomped off snow from their shoes. Other words shot through the air, destroying the haven the two of you had made. Dropping your forehead against Eddie’s, you sighed out a breathless “Yes” that fell flat against his cheek.
–
Fuckin’ Harrington.
--
A/n: Thank you so much for reading. Reblogging and commenting make my day (and make me love you), so I’d love to hear what you thought! <3
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson stranger things#eddie stranger things
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Hi what are your predictions for Stranger Things S5?
(Or how would you write it?)
Hiiii thanks for the ask <3
Like of course I think that Byler will be canon. These two are gay and no one can convince me otherwise, like there’s just too much proof. As for how they will get together I really can't decide because so many people have made good predictions but I am a firm lettergate believer. I also think they won't get together until like the second to last episode or something.
I'm also really hoping to see some kind of interaction between Robin and Mike and/or Will and the original party being back together and doing shit will fix all my problems.
Also like gimme Mike and Nancy interactions, like them awkwardly talking about feelings and maybe Mike coming out to her or asking her for advice about his relationship with El or something.
Also I need Mike to get Vecna’d and I think that is actually more likely than Will simply because Will already has a connection to the upside down and Vecna might actually want Will alive. Torturing and trying to kill his best friend/love of his life on the other hand will probably be worse for him. It would also a beautiful way to see more of Mike’s thoughts and feelings. I NEED MIKE TO SUFFER (I love him, he’s my pookie)
#i have so many more things I want or think will happen#like flickergate#and like the whole painting reveal#and Max just has to wake up I don't think I'll survive if she doesn't#I will throw hands if Robin dies btw#because I love her and I will not let the duffers kill the canonically lesbian character#someone's probably gonna die but I don't know who#because I don't want anyone to die tbh#byler#stranger things#stranger things 5#stranger things 5 predictions
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Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)
Chapter 2
Ch 1 ao3 link
*Eddie - 1986*
Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.
“So, don’t freak out but…”
“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”
“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.
Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.
“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”
“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.
“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”
“You didn’t know!”
“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”
The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?
Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”
Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”
He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.
“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”
Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.
“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.
“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.
“Shut it, nerd.”
“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”
-
Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.
Or, maybe not.
According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.
“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.
“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”
She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”
Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.
“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”
She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.
“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”
Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”
Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”
Fuck. “Um. No?”
“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.
Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”
“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.
“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.
“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.
He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”
Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”
Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.
“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”
“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.
“Not that I can think of.”
“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.
“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”
The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.
Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.
Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.
“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”
“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.
“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.
Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”
“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”
“No, I'm not.”
“He thought you were brave, y’know.”
“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.
“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”
He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.
“Thanks, Wheeler.”
-
Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.
Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.
He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.
-
*Steve - 1983/1984*
Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.
He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.
He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.
-
Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.
He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.
By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.
They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.
For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.
He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’
It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.
Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.
In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.
-
It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.
They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.
He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.
The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.
“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”
Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.
“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.
The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”
Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.
“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”
“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.
“You don’t have a say in the matter.”
“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.
“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”
Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”
Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”
Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”
The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.
Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.
“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”
“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”
She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”
He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”
Chapter 3
@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium
#steddie#steddie fanfic#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#ao3#steve harrington/eddie munson#steve x eddie#fanfic#ao3 link#life is a game#Canon is just a crazy game of D&D#alternating pov#Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins#Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother
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Hi friend! 👋 I’d like to submit a request, if I may. It’s not an original prompt, I don’t know where I first saw it, but I haven’t seen an actual fic with this premise yet.
Will comes out to Nancy who goes “I know nothing about this BUT I know someone who does” and brings him to Eddie, who brings both of them (bc let’s be honest Nancy isn’t letting Will out of her sight alone with Eddie) to a gay bar in Indy. Lo and behold who do they see but Steve and Robin. And it’s obvious to those who know what to look for (Eddie) that they’re both looking to get lucky. Steddie endgame (obvs lol) but maybe some Byler as well if you want/can swing it..?
I love everything I’ve read from you so far and I’m sure I’ll love everything you come up with! ❤️ thank you!!!
My star ✨✨✨ This is a future fic, but not future enough for Will to be 21 (I'm gonna put him at 19, almost 20 here so still like a tiny baby but also an adult). The first part of this is definitely Will focused, but there is more focus on Steddie at the bar itself. - Mickala ❤️
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“Nancy? Um, can I talk to you?”
Will had been working himself up to this for weeks, months really. He came out to Jonathan and his mom officially last weekend, though they both already knew.
He wasn’t exactly good at hiding it, and around them, he didn’t really try.
But Nancy Wheeler was smart, and she was quick to come to conclusions, and probably already had figured it out.
Plus, she was decent at giving advice, and could possibly give him some insight into how Mike felt if he felt anything at all.
That was why he was here, coming out to her, being brave.
“Of course,” Nancy replied, smiling comfortingly.
She knew. He knew she knew. But he had to say it out loud, he had to get it out there to other people.
“I just have to tell you something that’s like, a big deal, and hopefully it doesn’t bother you, but also I don’t want it to be a big deal. It doesn’t have to be, actually. I just-”
“Will,” Nancy placed her hand on his shoulder, looked up at him with a knowing smirk. “Just say it.”
“I’m gay.”
There. He said it. It’s done.
Nancy nodded once, like she was confirming that she heard him, but she already knew, which was what he expected.
“Anything else?”
“Um. I’m in love with Mike?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. Anything else?”
“What do you mean it’s pretty obvious? I thought I hid it okay!”
Nancy laughed. She actually laughed.
“The only person who doesn’t notice that you’re in love with Mike, is Mike, and that’s had a few close calls. And before you ask, I have no idea how he feels. I know he’s in denial about his sexuality, so once he clears that up, who knows. But for now, let’s focus on you. What do you need from me?”
Nancy had a “let’s get down to business” attitude that Will respected, that everyone respected, but she sometimes forgot that not everything was business.
“Well, I guess just…support?”
Nancy raised her brows.
“That’s it? You already had that.”
“I guess maybe…advice?”
“I mean, I really don’t have any for Mike. He’s an enigma even to me,” she started.
“No. I mean, it would be helpful to have it, yes, but just. In general?” Will interrupted, a blush covering his cheeks.
“Oh! About…” she trailed off as she realized what he was asking.
“Okay, well I don’t know anything about that or really anything, but I know who does!” Nancy clapped her hands together.
—-------------
“Eddie?” Will asked as they stood on his porch, waiting for him to answer the door.
“Uh-huh.”
“Eddie’s gay?”
“Well, he’s bisexual, but he would be the one who knows the most,” she answered.
“Prettier Wheeler! What a surprise!” Eddie exclaimed when he opened the door. “And my favorite Byers! Were we supposed to be doing something tonight? Fuck, did I forget something? Wayne is convinced the bats ate the part of my brain that holds memory, even though they didn’t even bite my head.”
Eddie was a rambler, sort of like Robin, but he usually at least made some sense.
“No, no you didn’t forget anything. Will just needs some guidance on something,” Nancy said as she pushed her way into the trailer. “Is Wayne home?”
“Uh. Nope. Come on in, I guess,” he said, nodding at Will.
Once they were all settled on the couch and chair, Nancy gestured for Will to tell Eddie.
Will wasn’t prepared for it, but he knew he could trust him, especially if what Nancy said was true.
“I’m gay.”
It was getting easier to say out loud, just like it had been easier to say to himself when he first realized it and started letting himself think it every day.
“Amazing! Was that a secret?” Eddie asked, somewhat confused.
“Apparently not as much of one as I thought. But yeah, just my mom, Jonathan, Nancy, and you know. Officially, anyway.”
“So you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re coming out?”
“No. I haven’t-”
“Oh, so Mike hasn’t gotten it together yet?” Eddie asked, playing with his rings distractedly.
“Nope. But it’s gonna take a big moment for that to happen. Will just needs some guidance on other stuff,” Nancy said.
“Oh! Like sex?”
Will was as red as he could possibly be.
“No! Not sex. Just, like, being gay I guess.”
Eddie looked between Will and Nancy a few times.
“Right. So let’s go,” he said as he stood up, making his way to his bedroom at the end of the hall.
Will and Nancy looked at each other, then back to where Eddie disappeared.
Before they could say anything, Eddie was back in the room, his new denim battle vest pulled on, and his boots laced up.
“Let’s go. Got places to be, queers to see!” Eddie yelled as he started moving out the front door.
“What the hell,” Nancy shrugged, getting up and following him out the door.
“What is happening,” Will said to himself as he followed them both.
—--------------
What was happening was that Eddie was taking him to a queer bar on the outskirts of downtown Indianapolis.
He’d heard of the place during his very little research of the local scene. He’d heard it was shut down twice in the 70s because of police raids, but now it was mostly just a quiet, safe place for queer people to be themselves.
The bar was laid back, only two bartenders even on the busiest nights, usually just pouring draft beers and the occasional martini. A jukebox in the corner never stopped playing, even when they only had a handful of customers.
A sign at the door said “THIRSTY THURSDAY: QUENCH YOUR THIRST AT THE BAR AND ON THE DANCE FLOOR!”
Will felt a little out of his element as he took in the amount of people crowding the bar, the tables, the small dancing area that really couldn’t even be considered a dancefloor.
Eddie seemed right at home, and he explained it was because he came pretty regularly, usually just to try to convince the owner to let his band play sometime, but he’d managed a few bathroom hookups along the way.
Will couldn’t hide his blush at that thought, knowing that he was in a place where that would not only be possible, but that it would be encouraged, maybe even expected had his mind fantasizing.
He welcomed it; Anything to get rid of the thoughts of Mike, who would probably never get his head out of his ass even if Will came out to him.
“Alright, one drink rule for the kiddo!” Eddie said as he walked to the bar with a hop to his step.
He was always exuberant, but he just seemed light here.
Will kept looking around, taking it all in.
Nancy suddenly grabbed his arm, and when he looked over, her eyes were huge.
He followed her line of sight, only getting distracted for a moment by a very attractive man who looked to be about his age.
His eyes settled on Steve and Robin.
In a queer bar.
In Indy.
“Is that-”
“It is.”
“But-”
“Uh-huh.”
Eddie came up behind them, drinks in hand.
“Alright, drink up! Take the edge off and then you can have some wonderful experiences- what are you two looking at?” Eddie looked over and his eyes widened. “Not possible.”
“It’s them.”
“But, they aren’t. Are they?”
Eddie squinted, looking at the way they were standing, what they were wearing, the way Steve was open to the room, not turned towards Robin.
“Oh my God,” he said.
“What?” Nancy’s head whipped towards him.
“How did I miss it? I spend so much time- but, no. He- and she- no.”
“Eddie, you aren’t making any sense! What?” Nancy whisper-yelled, as if anyone could hear them over the sound of everyone else talking and the music playing.
“They’re both queer! They’re here lookin’ for someone!”
“That’s impossible. Steve is the straightest person I know. I think even Mike knows he’s more likely to-” Nancy was cut off by Will hitting her arm. “What?”
“Robin just looked over here.”
“Shit.”
“Shit.”
They all looked at each other, panic in their eyes, as they realized it was only a matter of moments before they were completely caught here.
But, really, what was there to worry about? They were here, without knowing anyone they knew would be here, clearly looking for someone.
Will turned back to them, watching as Steve and Robin both looked at them with wide eyes.
“Might as well go talk to them,” he said before walking towards them, not waiting for Nancy or Eddie to agree.
“O…kay,” Eddie sighed before following.
Nancy followed silently, and Eddie didn’t really have time to figure out what her face was doing because Steve and Robin ended up meeting them halfway.
“Hi guys!” Robin waved, awkward as always, maybe more so because of where they were. “Kinda weird seeing you here, right? Like in Indy? Or in a bar? Since Will is underage! And also this is a pretty specific establishment, so-”
“What Robin means is,” Steve starts, lines in his forehead making him look more serious than he needs to be. “Why are you in a queer bar in Indianapolis?”
Robin smacked Steve’s arm, but he didn’t even flinch, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Like he was ready to protect Robin.
And himself.
“Well, this happens to be one of my favorite bars, and Will needed to be in this type of environment for the first time, ya know?” Eddie said in a way that would definitely give away more if Robin and Steve were actually here because they were queer.
“So you’re…” Steve relaxed slightly.
“I am. Are you?”
“Um. Yeah. Yep. I am.”
“Me too,” Robin added.
“Yeah, so am I,” Will said.
All of them looked to Nancy, who suddenly seemed to catch up to the conversation.
“Oh! Um, not me! I don’t think. I’m just here for support!” She had never looked or sounded as nervous as she was in this moment.
“So how’s the crowd today?” Eddie asked.
To be honest, Eddie hadn’t bothered trying to find a hookup here for months.
The reason?
The man standing in front of him: Steve Harrington.
He’d tried, really he had.
But every time he thought he would get beyond basic flirting with someone, he thought about the way Steve sometimes touched his arm or his shoulder for longer than he needed to when he passed by him, and the way Steve would rest his head on his shoulder during movie nights, or the way he sometimes looked at him like he wanted to devour him.
Like he was right now.
Eddie would be nervous about it, but he doesn’t think Steve actually means anything by it.
He just has a very intense stare sometimes.
“Eddie!”
“Sorry! What?” He turned to see Robin and Will giving him knowing looks. “What?”
“I’m gonna take Nancy and Will over to a table that just opened up. You coming?” Robin asked.
“Sure, in a minute. Gonna run to the bathroom first,” he said, ignoring the way Steve was still watching him.
He walked away before anyone else could say anything.
He just needed a minute or two to collect himself.
The realization that Robin and Steve were here for the same reasons he was was probably going to need more than a minute or two, but he could deal with it later.
The bathroom of this place wasn’t the best, probably hadn’t been properly cleaned since the place opened, but it also wasn’t the worst place to have a minor breakdown.
He didn’t cry, but it was damn close.
It was overwhelming to know that there were others in their little group like him, but it was also just a lot to take in that those other people included Steve.
He heard the bathroom door open behind him, but he didn’t look up, just assumed it was someone else from the bar.
He stood at the sink, looking down, gathering himself to go back out and pretend this was entirely normal when a hand gripped his waist.
His head shot up and he looked in the mirror to see Steve’s reflection looking back at him, a hesitant smile on his face.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
They stared at each other in the mirror, silent except for their breathing and the muffled sound of the music from outside the bathroom.
“I didn’t know you were…”
“Me either,” Eddie said quickly.
“You didn’t know you were queer?”
“No! No. Wait. I did know that. I knew it a long time ago. I mean I didn’t know you were,” Eddie clarified, unable to properly focus on anything except the way Steve’s hand felt on his side.
His thumb was rubbing circles against his shirt, the fabric bunching up little by little.
“It’s a new-ish discovery.”
“How new?”
Steve looked down at where his hand was resting on Eddie, then back up, his face red.
“March.”
“Oh?”
Eddie caught up quickly, realized what was happening, and definitely didn’t want it to stop even though he wasn’t sure how far he wanted it to go in the bar bathroom.
“Yeah. This annoying guy who was trying to steal Dustin from me decided to get involved in all our fucked up shit and Robin informed me that the way I was acting and talking about him wasn’t very heterosexual. Her words, not mine.” Steve smirked. “So, I kinda just admitted to myself I was into him and now I’m here.”
“Oh. Is the guy at this bar right now?”
“Yeah. He is.”
Eddie turned around and pushed Steve against the bathroom door as gently as he could.
“You’ve been driving me mad for years, Stevie. You know that?”
“Years?” Steve gulped, but kept smiling.
“Years. And now you’ve given me all that I need to do something about it.”
“Have I?”
Eddie answered him with a kiss.
It wasn’t spectacular, wasn’t even that good as far as kisses go.
Steve seemed caught off guard, like he hadn’t actually expected Eddie to take what was right in front of him, take control.
But then he caught up.
His hands gripped Eddie’s hips tight, the rest of his body relaxing against the wall as Eddie crowded against him further, their fronts touching from head to feet.
Their second kiss came right after a pause for breath, and that one was spectacular.
It was longer, wetter, hotter.
Eddie didn’t want it to end.
But someone banged on the door and they couldn’t be those people.
As they moved away to let the person in, Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder, like he did on movie night.
“So you’re into me too?” He asked.
Eddie could hear the smirk in his tone, didn’t even need to look down or at their reflection in the mirror to know he was being a little shit.
“No, I just kiss all the boys who come up behind me in bathrooms.”
Steve leaned his head back and nipped at Eddie’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine.
“Behave, big boy. Gotta go pretend we weren’t five seconds from fucking around in a public bathroom,” Eddie said as he guided Steve out of the bathroom.
When they got back into the main room, Steve tensed, started to pull away.
Eddie let him, tried not to let it bother him.
But then he was back, head back on his shoulder, arm around his waist.
“Sorry. Just. Not used to this being something I can do,” he said so only Eddie could hear.
“‘S okay. We’re safe here, though.”
No one commented on it when they got back to the table, though they both could tell everyone wanted to.
Will seemed ready to explode with excitement when someone came and asked him to dance and everyone at the table encouraged him to go.
He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he’d learn.
Nancy and Robin eventually went back to the bar to grab more drinks, and Eddie couldn’t help but watch the way Nancy was looking at one of the women who was standing alone by the jukebox.
“Hey, is it possible that Nancy’s…”
“Oh, yeah. Robin and I have had at least four conversations about how much the Wheelers desperately need to admit to themselves that sexuality is fluid.”
Eddie pulled away to look down at Steve, baffled at how educated he was on everything and kind of hating himself for being surprised.
“You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”
Steve kissed his cheek in response.
—-------------------
Nancy came out to them a month later, at the same bar, while staring at the same woman who was standing by the jukebox the month before.
She didn’t really use a label, but didn’t feel like she had to.
Mike took a bit longer, but eventually, Will lost his patience and kissed him.
He came out about ten seconds later.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#request#coming out#will byers#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#byler is mentioned#mike wheeler is not in this but talked about#and is it really a mickala fic/ficlet/headcanon without a love confession
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Dustin is quiet on the ride to his house.
Unusual, but nothing unheard of, especially when he’s thinking hard about something. From what Steve had been able to pick up before he’d dropped off Mike and Lucas, there’s a lot going on in the Dumpsters and Dangers department.
Steve is half-tempted to ask him about it, even though he won’t understand a single word, just to see Dustin get excited about something. Not that he’d ever admit it to the kid’s face, but he’s missed him a bit. Ever since he started up Hellfire it’s been “Eddie this” and “Eddie that.” Give him a break.
But, it’s a bad listening day, and Steve’s really just trying to hear the commercial on the radio over the sharp ringing in his right ear. It’s one that plays a million times a day and he knows it by heart at this point, but that kind of makes it worse. Just means he knows when he’s missing a word or a sound effect.
But it’s fine. He’s handling it. The constant ringing used to make him feel like he was going insane, especially on bad days like this where it’s like a physical presence in his head that leaves him feeling lopsided, like the Upside Down itself is pulling on him. Coming and going in piercing waves that block out any other noise, no matter how loud or how close.
Robin thinks it’s a problem.
“I’m dealing with it,” he’d told her, both of them on her bed with her history textbook in his lap. She had a test on Monday and sure, Steve wasn’t the best student, but he’d helped Nancy study a million times.
“Sure,” Robin said. “Except that you aren’t. You’re avoiding it, and those are two very different things. Do I need to pull out my dictionary and beat you over the head with it?”
“Which one, you have like, seven in here.”
“Maybe we can try them all just to see what sticks.” Then, she’d folded herself over the edge of her bed to rummage around in her bag. “But also, I was just thinking, maybe we could give this a try?”
She handed him a folded up piece of paper, biting her lip. Steve took it, skeptical, and unfolded it to see a poster for the Bloomington community center that read American Sign Language Lessons.
At Steve’s extended silence of like, a second, she continued, “I thought we could do it together. For fun. Really up our trash talk game.”
Steve had just stared at it, dread settling low in his stomach like a sack of rocks. He dropped the poster on the bed. “Thanks, but neither of us are deaf. We don’t need it.”
She’d sighed. “Steve--”
“‘In which battle was Napoleon defeated?’”
“Waterloo, easy, but listen to me. ASL isn’t just for deaf people. Besides, you don’t have to wait until you can’t hear anything at all to start learning. I mean, you could, that’s the whole point of the language, but I don’t think you would handle it very well.”
“Rude.”
“I’m just saying.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe we could even get some of the kids into it. I bet Dustin would--”
“No, Robin.” It came out a bit more harsh than he’d meant it, a little scared and he hated that. He crossed his arms just in case his hands decided to start shaking. “Just. Can we drop it?”
Robin, being Robin and he loved her for it but Jesus, leaned forward on her elbows. Steve raised his legs a little to hide the textbook. He wouldn’t put it past her to use this as some kind of con to cheat. Not that she needed to, she’s a genius.
“Steve,” she said, “you can’t just not tell them forever. Eventually, one of them is going to figure it out, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather tell somebody something like that on my own terms.”
“I’m not not telling them,” he insisted. “It just hasn’t come up.”
“In five months? Or no, you said Billy is when it got really bad and that was a year ago. There hasn’t been a single moment in all that time where someone hasn’t noticed something different?”
Sure they had. A few different times. But, he’d always been kind of air headed and spacey, even before his concussions so it was easy enough for them to just brush it off as Steve being Steve. “I thought I was here to help you study.”
Robin looked at him like he was one of her crossword puzzles. “I’m just trying to understand why you told me and no one else. That’s all.”
“That’s...different.”
What did she want him to say? That to tell her had been one of the scariest moments of his life, had made him miss the demodog-infested tunnels, had made him feel like he needed a bat in his hands? That saying it, any of it, out loud had left him feeling like he needed to hurl? That the thought of telling anyone else who wasn’t her, as wild as that was for someone he’d met six and a half months ago, left him on the edge of a fucking panic attack?
Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.
Robin stared at him a little longer before she leaned back, the fight gone. “Fine.” She reached over and grabbed the poster, folded it back up and put it back in her bag. “Just promise me you’ll give it some thought? Even just a little?”
“Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand.
“You were never a scout. And that’s the wrong hand.”
“I went to summer camp that one time!”
“That’s not the boy scouts, Steve!”
It’s been three days since then, and as much as he would like to forget about the whole thing, he’s been kind of agonizing over it. Over what Robin had said, about them figuring it out on their own. Would that be better? Worse?
Either option leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Makes him want to dig Billy up from his grave just to put him back in it. Him and those fucking Russians.
There’s a slap on his arm. “Steve!” Dustin’s glaring at him. “Jesus, finally. You just passed my house.”
Oh. Whoops. “My bad.” He pulls into a random driveway to turn around. “Don’t have to shout, man, car’s only so big.”
“I said your name like six times.”
Steve sighs and wishes for about the millionth time that his tinny-whatever-Owens-had-called-it had a dial so he could turn it down. Or off, really, that’d be great. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted. Some--work thing that Keith’s on my ass about.”
He pulls up in front of Dustin’s house and debates getting out. On any other day he’d be happy to walk him to the door and talk to Mrs. Henderson, but that usually leads to her inviting (or ordering) him to stay for dinner, and while his stomach is more than on board for whatever she’s whipped up, his head has the louder argument.
“Alright, man,” he says and cuts off the radio. “I’ll see you later.”
Dustin doesn’t move. He’s got his backpack on his lap and a loose grip on the door handle, but that’s it. He almost looks...nervous?
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dustin nervous before.
“What’s up?” Steve asks. “Your mom pissed at you or something?”
Dustin scoffs. “Please, I’m an angel.”
“Only in her eyes. Come on, what’s bugging you? Something one of the guys said? A kid at school? Some sort of mathematical nerd thing that’s got you stumped?” He gasps. “It’s not Suzie, is it, I swear to god--”
Dustin looks almost scandalized at that. “No. What? No. Nothing like that. I’m just--” He’s suddenly back to nervous. He starts picking at the zipper on his backpack, takes his hand off the door. “I’m just not sure how to--”
After a few more seconds of stuttering silence, Steve rolls his eyes. “Dustin, just spit it out. Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I mean, I can’t promise how helpful talking to me will be, with all the stuff you guys get up to but hey, I can at least try, right?”
Dustin sighs and turns in his seat to face Steve more fully. He seems to steel himself before saying, “Okay. I just want to say, before we move forward, that I’m not mad.”
Oh. Not exactly what he was expecting. “...Okay? I’m not either.”
“And I still think you’re cool or whatever, and we’ll still be friends no matter what.”
Steve nods, completely lost. “Right.”
“Because society can say whatever the fuck it wants!” Dustin is yelling suddenly. “And they can go on and on about the bible and whatever the hell Reagan is talking about, but you’re my friend, dammit! You’re my friend!”
“Whoa, Dustin!” Steve raises his hands, both to calm him down and maybe to protect himself a little. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Dustin takes a deep breath. “I’m talking about how you’re--” He looks around, as if they weren’t alone in the car, then whispers, “About how you’re gay.”
Steve blinks, slowly. There was no way he heard that right. Right? “You think I’m what?”
“I know,” Dustin says. He puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder in what he assumes is supposed to be comforting. “I know that you’re gay and I just want to tell you that it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Steve leans back and stares at him. Dustin leans with him, keeping his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not gay.”
“You don’t have to hide from me anymore,” he says. “I love you, you’re my friend, one of my best friends, and nothing is gonna change that.”
“Well, that’s great and I appreciate it, but I’m still not gay.”
“Yes.” Dustin nods solemnly. “You are.”
Steve laughs. A short one, like a gunshot, and pinches the bridge of his nose. When Robin had told him about people drawing their own conclusions, she probably hadn’t imagined something like this. God, he can’t ever tell her about this. “Oh my god. Okay. What, uh, what gave me away?”
“Well, really, you shouldn’t feel too bad. I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”
“Hmm.”
“But you’ve just been kind of out of it lately. Distracted more, like right now, driving me home, or when we watch movies. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at Harrison Ford. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars, dude.”
“Now hold on, that’s not--”
“And then, back at Thanksgiving, when my mom was telling you that story about me and Suzie and you just looked so uncomfortable--”
Because Steve hadn’t had a single clue what she was talking about.
“--plus, I’ve seen the way you look at Eddie so--”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.” Steve scoffs. “How I look at Munson? The Freak.”
“Well, yeah, it’s like you’re being tortured or something.” He shrugs. “It’s kind of romantic, honestly.”
Jesus Christ. “Okay. Wow.” This is worse than every Upside Down encounter combined. “Dustin, I will repeat: I am not gay. There’s an explanation for all of those things, but it doesn’t involve my sexuality in any way. Got it?”
Dustin raises an eyebrow, totally not believing him. Finally, he leans back. Crosses his arms. “Alright then, I’m listening.”
Whenever he did let himself picture how telling one of the kids would go, this hadn’t been what he’d imagined. But really, this has already gone so terribly, so how could it possibly get worse?
(Dustin could look at him like he’s broken, like he doesn’t recognize him, could tell him that he doesn’t trust Steve to watch his back, could start treating him differently or avoiding him, he’s already hanging out with Munson more, why not just abandon him altogether--)
“Alright.” He runs a hand through his hair before settling it on the bottom of the wheel, gripping it so tight his knuckles go sheet white. “So. Yeah, I’ve been distracted and not...listening as well.”
“Because you’ve been thinking about--”
“Nope!” Steve closes his eyes. Deep breaths and quick prayer to not kill a child. “It’s because I literally can’t listen as well as I used to. I--I have hearing loss.”
His second time saying it out loud to another person and it’s met with a similar kind of gut-turning silence. Steve watches Dustin’s face go through several rapid changes before settling on something confused, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows low.
“Oh.”
Then he looks mad.
“You have what? Dude!” He starts slapping Steve across his arm. “Since when?”
“Since--Jesus, man, stop! Since the mall fire, okay?”
Dustin freezes and Steve does too, the guilt like ice in his chest. He looks at Dustin and knows he’s thinking about the elevator and the bunker and the sizzling of human flesh under a fucked up cattle prod. It had been a tough summer for all of them, but Steve won’t ever be able to forget how Dustin had sat next to him in his car, just like this, trembling when he told Steve about how he was having nightmares. About how he thinks he might have killed that guy, and what did that make him?
A hero, Steve had told him. You saved our lives.
“If I hadn’t--” Dustin starts.
“Cutting you off there, Henderson. This,” Steve waves a hand around his face, “is not your problem. Okay? It has nothing to do with you.”
Dustin looks so small then, so lost, and Steve feels his heart twist. He reaches over and ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay. I can still hear out of my right ear, so I’ve got that going for me.”
Dustin frowns. “Does anyone else know?”
“Only you and Robin. I just...haven’t found the right time.”
“The right time being when? It’s been months. If we’d known, we could have helped you.”
Just like with Robin, he doesn’t have a good answer. Doesn’t really have any answer, and doesn’t know when he will. “I’ll get around to it. Sometime. But,” he locks eyes with Dustin, “you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone until I’m ready.”
“Steve--”
“Promise me, Dustin.” He stares him down. “I’m dead serious.”
Dustin sighs, but nods. “Alright.”
“On your mom’s life?”
Dustin recoils. “Dude, you’re bringing my mom into this?” Then, “Alright, fine, I swear on my mother’s life. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that shit, I won’t tell a soul.”
“Thanks.” Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out.”
“Does Robin know you’re gay?”
“What?” Robin can never know about this conversation. “Dude, no, I’m not gay!”
“So you are dating Robin.”
“I’m not dating anyone! Definitely not Robin, and I don’t have any kind of crush on Munson or anyone else!”
“But I swear, the way you look at him--”
“I hate his guts, now get out or I’ll hold your hat hostage.”
With a proper amount of grumbling, Dustin manhandles his backpack and steps out. He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “You know, you saved my life too. I’ve got your back no matter what. Okay?”
His eyes sting, so he itches his nose. Clears his throat to make sure it won’t crack when he says, “Yeah, Dustin, I know. You too.”
The next second he’s gone and Steve, alone in his car, is left to think that maybe...ASL lessons might not be so bad.
#stranger things#steve harringing#robin buckley#dustin henderson#hard of hearing steve harrington#hoh steve harrington#platonic stobin#steve later: I should talk to him about trying to get people to out themselves#also he FOR SURE tells robin about it#and regrets it immediately#cut to him and eddie dating and dustin just gives them the smuggest look#my writing
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 54
ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 51, part 52, part 53
“And just as you enter the cavern,” Will narrates, are sweeping across the board, “a gust of wind blows out your torches, covering you in darkness. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the low grumble of the monster that terrorized the town.”
They all look at him, waiting for him to continue. Instead, he stands straight again, starting to take down his board. “And I think that’s a good time to stop.”
“Come on,” Lucas groans, falling back in his chair. “You can’t leave us there.”
“How much longer of the campaign do we have?” Dustin asks. “We’ve been playing for weeks now, we could try to finish it tonight.”
Mike shakes his head. “Even if that was possible, it’s late. My mom is dragging me back to school shopping tomorrow.”
Dustin shoves his stuff in his backpack. “Already? We still have a few weeks until school starts.”
“Yeah, but she just wants to go and get it over with.”
They pack up their stuff, saying goodbye to Mrs. Byers on their way out. Mike hangs back while Lucas and Dustin get their bikes. Talking to Will, laughing about something they can’t hear.
“God, this is taking forever,” Lucas complains.
Dustin shrugs. “Will said he’s been working on it for months. It’s not that surprising.”
“Not the campaign. I meant that” Lucas points to Mike and Will.
Dustin looks at them and rolls his eyes. The two of them have been dancing around each other all summer.
“When is he going to get the balls to ask him out, already?” Lucas whispers. “It’s getting painful at this point.”
“He’s just scared, he’ll get there eventually.”
“But why does eventually have to take this long? I swear if I have to sit through one more movie night of them sitting next to each other way too close, and getting all embarrassed when they get caught looking at each other, I’m going to go insane.”
“Why are you going insane?” Mike asks, picking up his bike off the grass and wheeling it to the street.
Lucas catches up to him, slapping him on the arm. “Where are you going to ask him out already? He totally likes you back.”
Mike’s face turns bright pink. “I, just, I don’t know. I’m scared, I guess.”
“Dude, come on. It’s Will.”
“Yeah, I know that, that’s why I’m scared.”
Dustin keeps quiet. Listening to their argument over the soft hum of his bike’s wheels. They would get there on their own time, he knew that. Ever since both Will and Mike admitted to him what they were feeling, it was inevitable. They fit, it just made sense.
It was just another thing that was going to change. Mike and El broke up back in April, but that didn’t really feel like a breakup. They were already apart, physically, for so long, they were able to just pick back up and go back to just friends. It was nice to have a group where it was mostly friends, and Dustin didn’t feel like he was third wheeling.
But then Will told Dustin, Mike slowly figured it out, and Lucas will not stop until they get together. Nancy is getting ready for college. Robin is staying, but only for the year. Wayne and Eddie are moving into a house. Steve is moving. Dustin is still just Dustin. Nothing changing, forever the same.
Everything keeps changing. Everything keeps moving. He feels like he has to too. But nothing he does feels like growth. Feels like movement. He just feels the same. If his younger self were to stand next to him right now, they would look identical. The only change was Dustin was older. Taller. Supposedly more mature.
It’s odd how he can look at everyone else and see all the ways they’ve changed, and see none of it himself. Maybe it’s because he just can’t see it, or maybe he wants to believe it never happened. For a moment, maybe, if he could just look through younger his eyes, the world would be brighter. The air would be fresher. Time would feel less exhausting.
“Did you guys know Steve’s moving?” he asks, still walking next to his bike.
They stop and turn to look back at him. “What,” they ask in unison.
“His parents are selling the house, he’s moving.”
“What about Eddie?” Mike asks.
“They got a house. They’re moving into it in a few weeks.”
“Wow,” Lucas says. “Summer really is almost over, isn’t it.”
Mike rolls his eyes. “That is the most cliché thing you have ever said.”
“It’s true,” he defends. “Before we know it, it’ll be Halloween, then November, then we’re back to March, and it’s the fourth again. It starts to feel normal and then we get hit with something that throws us back a few years. Can’t blame me for wanting to stay in this peace for a little longer.”
He’s right. After the fourth, and everything died down, it started to feel like a real summer. Will and Mike made the campaign, and they’ve been playing it. There were movie nights and sleepovers. Days at the arcades and trying to sneak into the R rated films. Stuff normal teenagers do. Stuff they normally did.
But there was this tension, this wait for the other shoe to drop. For someone to wake up screaming, or something to spark that creep up Will’s next. El’s been searching, trying to look for any clue that they were wrong. That there was a chance they didn’t properly kill it this time.
There was nothing. No indicators. No signs. Pure silence.
Silence was never a good thing. It leaves space for the brain to find something to obsess over, or create. Never quite giving the peace that it is supposed to promise.
Dustin didn’t like the silence. He wanted there to be something in the background. Music, conversations, white noise. Something to fill the space and call him back to reality. Instead of his mind wandering free.
“Do you ever think that one day we’ll wake up and just forget everything? Go about life like everyone who doesn’t know?” Dustin asks, voice almost in a whisper.
It’s almost this reflex he has, to fix everything. To find that off switch. Find a way to get back to normal.
“I don’t think we’ll forget,” Mike starts, a scared hopefulness in his voice. “I just think it might not hurt as much. Like it’ll fade into a distant memory, and we only remember it every once in a while.”
“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “Like I don’t even remember the first time as much anymore. Not as much as I used to, at least.”
Mike nods, it doesn’t help.
Something in Dustin can’t let go of the idea that he’ll never forget. That this is something that will always haunt him.
“Hey,” Lucas puts a hand on his shoulder. “No matter what, we go through this together.”
“Right.” Mike agrees.
Dustin’s glad he still has them. That after all they’d been through, their friendship stayed the same. Still just as close as they were back in middle school. Different, but the same.
“Yeah,” Dustin says, voice returning to its lightness.
Different, but the same. He hasn’t thought about it like that before.
tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores
#chills right to the marrow fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#dustin henderson#dustin pov#will byers#mike wheeler#lucas sinclair#the party
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been feeling suuuuper down about myself and my writing lately, so i decided to go back and pick out some snippets i was especially proud of, and maybe occasionally share a few here.
this first one is from little help chapter 41, titled “i walk alone” (because that song was giving me such ‘lost and aimless steve nostalgically pining for nancy’ vibes). the chapter was about steve returning home after traveling with his parents for a few months. he’s attempting to get back into the swing of things with his friends, but somehow nobody told him about the demise of mileven/onset of greatmage, and he has a rather explosive reaction.
i’m starting here because i’m very intimidated by trying to write steve and i don’t usually think i do a good job with him, but i felt happy with my interpretation of him here. enjoy. 😘
“Jumping right back into babysitting, eh?” Eddie teases, and Steve realizes with a jolt that as much as he complains about being the babysitter, there is nothing else he’d rather be doing. Spending time with his parents for the last few weeks— or was it months? who even knew anymore?— had been such a painful shallow void. There was nothing to do but look the part; be paraded around like an elite accessory to make his parents seem more… something, caring or doting or possibly just human. Stand here and be pretty, Steven. But for goodness sake don’t talk to anyone. You have nothing important to say. No career, no fiancée, no aspirations of any kind. Nobody wants to hear about your little high school friends and your movie rentals, Steven. Just wear that new three piece suit— the blue one, not the gray— and smile. Yes, that’s our son. Quite a heartthrob, isn’t he?
He knows he could be so much more, if he could only figure out what more he wanted to be and which direction to head in to get there.
Quickly shaking off the dismal thoughts, he smacks Eddie’s hand away from swiping another one of his cookies, and casually says, “Gotta stick with what I’m good at, right?” Eddie laughs, and Steve relaxes. Good. He’s starting to remember how to be himself again. And he’s willing to scorch his eardrums with heavy metal for an hour or two if only for the sheer pleasure of being invited, being remembered, being wanted. Nobody in his parents’ circle of acquaintances (were they even really friends?) seemed to actually want him around, not even them. Eddie seems overjoyed at the prospect of his company, reminding him that the rest of his friends (and his are real, actual friends) will be too.
But he feels a little strange when he walks into the club later that night. A little awkward, a little lost. (Like everyone else is too busy having fun to notice him?) Robin is already there, but she and Vickie are chatting and laughing about something with the bass player whose name Steve can never remember. He’s not sure he remembers any of the Coffin guys’ names, come to think of it. The three of them have always sort of lumped into one amorphous mass of “Eddie’s bandmates” in the peripherals of his mind. Is it because they aren’t part of the Party, so they’re not important? He frowns at himself. That sounds like something his parents would say. Tonight, Steve decides, he should actually try to talk to these guys and then the next time he sees them he’s determined he’s going to remember their names.
Where is everybody else? He spots Mike, Dustin, and Will up front by the stage, talking with Eddie and the other guitarist (John? Jim? J-something) while they set up. Lucas, Max, and El are hanging out with Red Plaid Flannel Guy who by process of elimination must be the drummer. Steve rolls his eyes at himself, scolding himself to cut it out. He’s being such a snob and he doesn’t even mean to. All that time with his parents has really done a number on his brain. A night with his real friends will do him a world of good.
But wait. Something is weird here. Something’s wrong. Why isn’t El with Mike? He’s right there with them, talking to Lucas now, and El is by Max, but Flannel McFloppyhair is standing way too close to her, and for some reason he’s got his arm around her shoulders, and he’s leaning in looking for all the world like he’s about to kiss her and why the hell doesn’t this seem crazy to anybody but him?
Steve doesn’t think, he just reacts. In approximately two seconds he’s across the room and wrenching Flannel away from El by the collar of his shirt, holding him fast with one hand and swinging hard with the other, and in the approximately two seconds before his fist connects with the kid’s face he belatedly realizes two things: one, that El had actually had her arm around Flannel’s waist; and two, that she had looked completely relaxed and happy and almost like she was eagerly anticipating the kiss she’d been about to receive when he—
CRUNCH
Overlapping screams echo around him, including a stunned and pain-filled yelp of “Jesus Christ, Harrington!” from Flannel, and somehow that’s the worst part of this whole confusing thing, that this guy knows Steve’s name and Steve can not, for all that is holy, recall his.
He’s surrounded in an instant by Eddie and Jamie (or is it Joe?) and T.B. Player, and the other two band guys hustle Flannel away somewhere, probably to clean him up— in all Steve’s years of fighting he doesn’t think he’s ever seen somebody’s nose bleed that much that quickly— while Eddie looks at Steve as if he’s just sprouted two extra heads, before stating (shouting) rather eloquently (furiously), “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck, Stevie?”
“I— what— he was— what are you yelling at me for?” Steve protests, well aware he’s made a huge mistake but completely unable to process what it was. “What the fuck, yourself, man! What is going on here? Mike, are you okay?”
Honestly, Mike looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and if Steve had been asked to try and guess his reaction that is not at all what he would’ve picked. El, on the other hand, is on the verge of tears, and Max seems like she’s seriously considering punching Steve the way he’d just punched— goddammit what is that guy’s name? Dustin and Eddie, meanwhile, are exchanging puzzled glances.
“Oh shit, he doesn’t even know,” Dustin suddenly blurts out.
“You didn’t tell him?” Eddie demands, voice high-pitched with disbelief. “I thought that would’ve been the first thing you guys told him.”
“Obviously not, and how come you didn’t think to tell him?”
“Can someone tell me now, please?” Steve says faintly. He clearly owes either Mike or El an apology, but he still has no clue what for.
Surprisingly, it’s Mike himself who finally speaks. “El and I aren’t together anymore.” He genuinely doesn’t seem bothered by that, and Steve stares at him in bewilderment. “Haven’t been for awhile now. We’re just friends again. So, uh, thanks for defending my honor, I guess, but— totally not necessary.”
“Gareth is my boyfriend,” El adds in a stunned whisper, and Steve just barely manages to catch himself by the skin of his teeth before he says ‘who’s Gareth?’ Gareth, of course, is Flannel Guy. When the hell did all of this happen? El is gazing at him with wide, wounded eyes. “You hurt him,” she adds, voice trembling a little, and he honestly wishes the floor would open up beneath him and swallow him whole. “Why would you hurt him, Steve?”
“I— I didn’t know. I thought he was— and you were— Jesus, El, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought he was bothering you.” Steve looks helplessly around at his friends. Is he imagining things or are they looking at him oddly? How come nobody told him? And more importantly, why hadn’t he just asked, instead of flying off the handle like that? He’d done exactly what his father would do; assessed a situation without having all the facts, drawn entirely the wrong conclusion, and confidently acted on his judgement without regard for the consequences to others. Now his knuckles are splattered with someone else’s blood and El is crying and if Max is actually going to murder him he wishes she would hurry up and get it over with.
“I’m sorry. Really. I’m so sorry, everyone, honest. I’ll— should I go make sure he’s okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer. An awkward conversation with a guy he’s just punched sounds infinitely better than staying here with his friends all looking at him like that and the shadow of his father’s self-satisfied smile patterned across his fist. “I’ll be right back. I’m really sorry.” He ducks away abruptly and rushes in the direction the other guys had headed.
The bassist and Julian (or maybe it’s Jorge) are just coming out of the bathroom as Steve approaches, and he notices they both immediately move out of his way, eyeing him warily, like he’s a stranger’s dog who may or may not be inclined to bite. “Guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he tries to explain, but they’re already hurrying away from him. Great. It’s high school all over again. Had his parents, in just a few short weeks, turned him back into King Steve, terrorizing the freaks, way too focused on his father’s ideas of who were and were not suitable friends? Was that why he’d reacted so violently, was it the thought that someone was with El who wasn’t supposed to be?
Jesus Christ. He exhales sharply, pushing the bathroom door open. Gareth— well, Steve’s never going to forget his name ever again, at any rate— is just scrubbing the last traces of blood from his face with a handful of damp paper towels. Steve can already tell there’s a wicked black eye forming. “I’m sorry, man,” he blurts out immediately. “Is anything broken?”
“If I say no,” Gareth cautiously asks, “are you gonna try to finish the job?”
“What? No! I came to apologize. I didn’t know you were dating El. I… I haven’t been around for a little while.” It isn’t good enough. What could he possibly say that would be good enough?
#steve harrington#eddie munson#el hopper#gareth emerson#steve harrington’s parents are the worst#but his friends have his back#losty can actually write#gareth stranger things
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The two van scenes- Steve's self centered 'love' versus Will's selfless love.
The thing that I've only realised upon rewatch is the similarities between Steve's love confession to Nancy in 4x08 and Will's love confession to Mike, also in 4x08 (aka the van scene). Although we usually use parallels to show how similar the ships are, suggesting that they may have similar fates (such as jancy & byler parallels and mleven & stncy parallels), I think these two scenes are similar to show how different stncy and byler are.
So what are the similarities???
First off we have the fact that they take place in the same episode (roughly 25 mins apart) and exsist in a van. There's other similarities such as they both have a "Yeah?" "Yeah." scene:
Which really draws the parallels. Furthermore, both Mike and Nancy feel like they're losing El and Jonathan.
Although Mike confirms these fears more explicitly than Nancy, it's clear that her and Jonathan are drifting apart when neither of them go to visit eachother over spring break, which clearly upsets Nancy. Jonathan's college plans only confirm for the audience that they are drifting apart.
Finally, both Steve and Will give a 'gift' of sorts: Will's painting, and Steve's vision of his future (that he implies he wants Nancy to be a part of).
Will's love for Mike is selfless and generous.
The whole point of the van scene is that Will sacrifices and disregards his happiness as he believes that Mike would be happier with someone else- El, and so he uses his love confession to strengthen their (mleven's) relationship.
Steve literally does the opposite of this.
Steve's love confession is all about him. What he wants. He wants 6 little nuggets and a massive camper van for holidays and that's great for him, but it's not what Nancy wants. Steve is not considering what Nancy wants. It has been shown multiple times throughout the show that Nancy is ambitious and wants a career in journalism. It's what drives her to the trailer park where she learns about Victor Creel and it's why she wants to go to Emerson. I'm not saying that you can't be ambitious and have children, but children is clearly not a priority for Nancy. She literally says it right here:
Showing the difference in Steve and Will's love for their respective Wheeler. Whilst Steve is enforcing unwanted expectation onto Nancy, Will is doing the opposite- "ripping off the bandaid".
Even when Will envisions a future with Mike and tells him, it involves things that they have bonded over and enjoyed in the past together:
Will also gets Mike to talk to him, and share his insecurities. They have several other heart to hearts throughout the season where both Mike and Will talk honestly with eachother, whether that's about Mike's issues with El, being different and how scary it can be to tell other people and working together against Vecna.
Stncy at best has Steve talking about how he is crawling forward and working to be a better person, but not only is that in an effort to somewhat win Nancy back, Nancy never divulges her insecurities with Steve, their 'heart to heart' isn't mutal.
If we go back to the "Yeah?" "Yeah." parallel, you can see that's it's less of a parallel than you may originally think. The person who's asking "Yeah?" Is reversed in these situations, with stncy, it's the 'confessor', Steve, trying to see if Nancy agrees with him, but with byler, Will is instead the "Yeah.", and is helping Mike overcome his insecurities with El, and reaffirming Mike's new found confidence through Will's painting. Steve is again revolving the conversation around himself, where as Will is being as selfless as you can get.
Although it can be argued that maybe stncy isn't having as many heart to hearts and that the reason Nancy isn't responding similarly to Steve being vulnerable just yet is because they're exes, it's awkward, and Nancy is dating Jonathan.
But at the start of season 4, we see that byler are also in a rocky position in terms of their relarionship and Mike is literally dating El.
And yet, time and time again, we as the audience are shown how strong their relationship is and how much they care about repairing it, whereas stncy has had no such thing.
So what is the point of paralleling these van/confession scenes in the first place??
Personally, I think it's to show how pure and selfless Will's love for Mike is compared to Steve's, and what it's like for a confession to fall flat.
The byler van scene is full of beautiful cinematography, rising music, gorgeous lighting and powerful emotion, whereas in the stncy van scene, you can still here the rumbling of the van and the song 'Fire And Rain' by James Taylor, which presumably is from the radio, in the background whilst Nancy hesitantly agrees with what Steve is saying, making it feel less important and almost anti climatic.
Therefore, despite the initial, surface level similarities, these scenes show how vastly different byler and stncy are. Stncy will never be endgame because Steve's love is presented as self centered, whereas Will's love is beautiful and selfless. Byler is endgame as both Will's confession and Mike's reaction are telling of how strong their connection is and how deeply they love each other.
#byler#stranger things#will byers#mike wheeler#anti stancy#i hate stncy sm it's an awful end to both of their character arcs#whereas byler would be an amazing end to mike and will's character arcs#stranger things s5#nancy wheeler#steve harrington
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I know you know I know too
For @steddie-week Day 6: Misunderstandings
Mike believes that Nancy and Eddie are dating and tries to give Eddie a shovel talk. It does not go as planned.
Read on AO3
Inspired by this post
"Can we talk?" Mike asks as soon as the door swings open.
Eddie blinks at him, glancing over his shoulder as if he's looking for someone else. "Uh, sure? You can come in."
Mike follows Eddie into the apartment, wrinkling his nose at the smell of weed. He's getting really sick of smelling it on all the older teens all the time (maybe if they'd let The Party try some, but they won't, so it's just annoying). Eddie opens a window to air the room out a little bit and then flops onto the couch, all loose-limbed and relaxed. Maybe the weed will actually help in this case; if Eddie’s chilled out enough, he might not get all intense and mad at Mike.
"Are you gonna sit?" Eddie asks.
"No," Mike tells him. He needs to keep whatever advantages he can in this situation because Eddie is older and also could very easily make his life extremely miserable if this goes badly. Honestly, Mike isn’t super sure he wouldn’t be miserable if it goes well either, but that’s a different issue.
"Okay," Eddie says, drawing the word out. "So what's up?"
"I know what you've been doing," Mike tells him.
Eddie stares at him. When Mike doesn’t elaborate, he tilts his head and asks, "What have I been doing?"
"All the dates and stuff. You aren't as subtle as you think."
Eddie sits up a little straighter, frowning. "Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'," Mike says. "And I want you to know that if you mess this up, I will get revenge."
Eddie snorts. "You'll get revenge?"
"I've buried a body before," Mike tells him, trying to channel all the intensity and menace that he can into his tone. It's been a long time since he was a DM, but he thinks he's doing a pretty good job. "And I'm not afraid to do it again."
"Sorry, you've buried a body before? Like, for real?" Eddie looks genuinely shocked, and huh, maybe he never got the full story of what the Cali Crew was up to during spring break.
"Yes, for real!" Mike says. "And like, Hopper would definitely be on my side. So."
Eddie bobs his head in a nod, but he doesn't actually look all that impressed.
"And my girlfriend has super powers."
"I am aware," Eddie says.
"I'm so serious about this," Mike insists, because he feels like Eddie isn’t getting it. "This isn't just some kind of dramatic shovel talk; I'm not just saying shit for fun."
"No, no, I believe you," Eddie tells him, tone serious. “I hear you loud and clear; if I mess this up I’m dead for real, got it. Message received.” Mike has just an instant to feel victorious before Eddie continues, "I just didn't realize you cared about Steve that much."
Mike freezes. "What."
"Steve?" Eddie says, frowning a little in confusion. "I sort of thought you didn't like him that much."
"I'm not talking about Steve. Why would I be talking about Steve?"
"Then who are you threatening me about?"
"Nancy, obviously!" Mike waves a hand, feeling a little desperate. He has a sinking feeling that maybe he's actually wrong, but he’s in too deep to give up now. "You've been spending so much time together, and she’s seemed way happier recently. You must be— Are you not dating?"
"Dating Nancy? No, I am not," Eddie says. "I've been hanging out with her because we're friends, and also for double da—" He stops talking, eyes going wide. "Just because we're friends."
"Double dates?" Mike repeats. He needs to focus on that detail; if he thinks too much about the fact that Eddie thought he was talking about Steve, he's going to have to address what that (probably) means. "If Nancy’s not dating you, who is she dating?"
"Uh, nobody?" Eddie tries. Mike raises an eyebrow and waits. Eddie grimaces, obviously realizing how unconvincing that sounded. "You should ask her about it. Seriously, I can't tell you that."
Ugh. Great. Eddie's going to be stubborn about this. Now that he's on guard, he's probably not going to say anything else accidentally incriminating, even if he is still high enough to have less of a filter than usual. Instead of arguing, Mike changes course. He doesn’t really want an answer to this question, but leaving it a mystery would be worse: "Why did you think I was talking about Steve?"
"Hm?"
"Eddie!"
Eddie sighs. "Jesus, kid, we were waiting for the right time to tell you little twerps."
"You and Steve?" Mike feels like this is maybe actually worse. He hadn't loved the idea of Eddie and Nancy together for a bunch of reasons (including—especially—the fact that Nancy is his sister, and also they don't make any sense together), but Eddie and Steve? "Steve Harrington?"
"Is that a problem, Wheeler?" Eddie gives him one of those intense looks, and Mike is abruptly thrown back to the beginning of freshman year when Eddie was as terrifying as he was compelling.
"He's so lame," Mike whines, because even if he's still a little scared of Eddie, he can't put aside the dismay that Eddie is dating Steve. "And he's a jock! You hate jocks."
Eddie blinks at him for a long moment, and Mike fidgets, wishing this whole thing had maybe never happened. Then Eddie drops back into the couch with a sigh. "Jesus H. Christ, I thought you were being homophobic."
"What, no!" Mike denies immediately, and it's true; he's fine with gay people just. Steve? "I'm not homophobic. I just can't believe you of all people would fall for Steve Harrington."
Eddie laughs. "Trust me, it surprised me too."
Mike sighs. "I'm sorry I freaked you out."
"Nah, it's fine. I expect you to be an asshole sometimes, so that's nothing new." Eddie offers a genuine smile to soften the blow.
"Yeah, well at least I have good taste in guys," Mike says without actually thinking about what he's saying. "Wait—no—that's not—"
"Oh my god," Eddie breathes. "This is the best conversation."
"Shut up!"
"Thank you for telling me," Eddie tells him, tone solemn. "I'm glad you felt you could trust me with this."
"I hate you, actually," Mike decides. "No wonder you and Steve are dating; you both suck."
Eddie cackles, and Mike wishes fervently for the ability to turn back time.
"This is actually the worst thing that's ever happened to me," Mike announces. "And I've dealt with the Upside Down four times."
Eddie manages to get his laughter under control. "Oh, you think this is bad?" He leans in, grinning menacingly. "Just wait until I tell Steve you threatened me to defend his honor."
"Oh god," Mike breathes. "Please don't do that, he'll never let me live it down."
"I don't know, I think he deserves to know how much you care."
"I wasn't talking about him, though. I thought you were dating Nancy!" He knows protesting is probably useless at this point, but he's got to at least try. "It's actually fine if you want to mess up your relationship with Steve."
"I don't think you mean that, though, do you?"
Mike sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm sorry for threatening you, but please don't make me admit to liking Steve."
"Fine, I suppose I can be merciful," Eddie says magnanimously. "I mean, he may have heard the entire thing, since he's in the next room, but..."
"He's here?" Mike hisses.
"Oh yeah," Eddie grins. "You interrupted date night." He wiggles his eyebrows, and Mike wants to die.
"Wow, would you look at the time?" Mike glances around the room, which is completely bare of any clocks. "It's time for me to go!"
"Hey, Wheeler," Eddie says, and he sounds serious again. "Can you please keep your mouth shut about this?"
Mike narrows his eyes. He’s not going to just go along with whatever Eddie wants after all of this, and this might be his only chance to regain the upper hand in this conversation. "Why?"
"Because we want to let everyone know ourselves? We'll do it soon, so you won't have to keep it a secret for a long time or whatever, but it's important to us to get to tell people, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I don't actually want to think about it anyway."
"Thank you."
"Sure." Mike starts to leave and then stops, turning back to face Eddie again. "And I'm, like, glad you're happy or whatever."
"Wow, that's so touching," Eddie drawls. "Thank you, though." He smiles, and Mike nods, rushing to the door—because yeah, he doesn't actually hate Steve; he can admit to himself he kind of, maybe, likes Steve (Mike will never, ever say it out loud, but Steve is pretty handsome, and he’s actually reliable in a crisis, unlike Nancy and Jonathan, who tend to disappear when shit starts going down), but if he has to actually see him right now, after all of that, he might die.
So he leaves, heading out into the cool night air and feeling much lighter than he had on his way to Eddie's house. His shovel talk may not have gone the way he expected, but that's okay, and anyway, he has a sister to pester about her new girlfriend.
Now that he's over his initial shock, he can put two and two together; he’d assumed that Dustin had finally gotten his wish for Robin and Steve to start dating, but if Steve is dating Eddie, then that means the other half of those double dates is Nancy and Robin.
He actually thinks that Robin Buckley is a pretty good match for Nancy. They make sense together, in a weird way, sort of balance each other out, and he's heard about how well they worked together during Vecna.
That doesn't mean he's not going to bug Nance for keeping it a secret. Especially since it made him embarrass himself in front of Eddie.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#mike wheeler#outsider pov#pov mike wheeler#mike's terrible very bad no good day#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddieweek2023#minor ronance#just mentioned so I'm not tagging it for real
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