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hitlikehammers · 7 months

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whole wide world

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, teacher! Steve, gooey-clingy-heart-eyes Eddie needs his Stevie ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, amateur musicals, steve needs to stop using a ladder unsupervised because nothing bad happened this time but eddie is concerned that is the love of his life, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day thirteen: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask ❤️ (@steddieas-shegoes)

look who's back, just like every other day, it's the rockstar husbands from je ne regrette rien being their codependent, desperately-in-love selves again! ♥️

“Goddamnit,” Steve curses the staple gun, the dry-rotted wood he’s trying to use it on, the acrylic-covered tarp masquerading as a backdrop leaving little crackle-dust everywhere every single time it fucking falls because the wood’s shit, the staples are shit, his co-advisor’s kid’s sick with the flu, the kids are in the band room rehearsing the opening number and Steve really cannot fucking believe he got roped into this to begin with, actually, like, how the fuck did the middle school guidance-counselor-slash-study-hall-monitor get conned into helping with the high school drama club, just because one of his JV soccer players landed the lead and bemoaned loudly enough during laps how they didn’t know if they’d be able to make the performance even work, because the choir teacher’s on maternity leave and the band director’s kind of a dick, and the needed more help—

Steve only is even in the high school for the goddamn athletics office. For, y’know, the equipments for the athletes.

Yet: here he is. Standing on a rusty fucking ladder that probably needs a spotter, to be honest, and if Steve’s admitting that then yeah, it definitely needs someone holding the goddamn thing, but here he is, already two hours after the final bell, trying to stick a painting of mattressesin a stack that only vaguely looks like mattresses so thank god that’s in the show title—

The ladder wobbles a little when he tries to catch the tarp-thing again but he can’t reach far enough without risking a long way down to a very hard stage floor, so the backdrop’s sacrificed back to the ground—a-fucking-gain—as he shifts his weight to steady the steps and it’s a close thing, he’s about ninety-seven percent sure he’s aimed the teetering feet of it back to solid ground okay but he glances around quick just in case, tries to figure if there’s anything he can grab for and let the ladder go on its own if need-be, and—

“That’s fucking dangerous, big boy,” a deep, and deeply unexpected, voice trails up from the floor, clipped with stress, with fear because Steve fucking knows that voice, and the ladder’s suddenly fully steady so he can turn and look and—

“Gonna give me a goddamn stroke or something, finding you up on one of these all by your lonesome,” Eddie’s staring up at him, and the words could be teasing, and Steve thinks maybe they intend to be, but: those eyes are too big. There’s a pulse Steve can count in that throat, even from seven-feet-up.

So he does what any man in love with his husband would do in the face of said-husband in fear, and for him: Steve climbs down careful, but quick, with Eddie’s hands scrambling to make sure of the ‘careful’ part as soon as he can reach, and then he turns, and then he lands on solid ground again to pull Eddie in and thank every colleague of his he’d been cursing in his mind for leaving him alone to do all this shit, because alone is the reason he gets to kiss his lover hard, and full; wrap around him and let him squeeze Steve to the point where it aches, where it creaks in his bones, like proof.

Lets Eddie attach his lips to suck a bruise, possessive and needy and protective all at once along his throat, and yeah:

Exactly like proof.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks when they pull apart just the slightest bit, because he wasn’t expecting Eddie to be home until probably close-on to midnight, let alone at the school well before five.

“Thought you could maybe use an extra set of hands,” Eddie shrugs like it’s a casual thing, showing up just to help out when he’s on a press cycle, and it’s evident even in his attire that that’s the case, if you know what to look for: more chains from his jeans, thicker soles on his boots just flirting with being platforms, at least two rings on every finger—save just one.

One has a ring, and a carefully-preserved and repeatedly-reinforced bread-bag tie: both serving the same purpose in very different points in their lives.

Point being: Eddie was wading through photoshoots and magazine spreads and radio spots and every fucking thing, and no matter how high he’s raising his eyebrow in a clear calling out of how he found Steve atop a shaky ladder as being obvious evidence of having use of an extra set of hands, the fact remains:

“But you’ve got the interview—“ the big ass interview with that shock-jock guy Steve kinda hates, but that’s a big fucking deal, and was the precise reason Steve wasn’t lamenting giving up his afternoon and evening to the at-least-halfway-to-lost-cause of the not-even-an-actual-full-fledged-theatre department: he wasn’t going to have Eddie home before bed anyway.

And yet: here stands the man.

“The boys have got it,” Eddie shrugs, like he actually doesn’t give a shit, and that’s…he does give a shit, he had sounded excited about it last night when they’d talked about their plans for the week over dinner, when Steve had bemoaned the travesty of this fucking production of Once Upon A Boxspring or whatever, and Eddie’d told him he was pretty sure he was going to be able to say fuck on the show even if they’d edit it, like he wouldn’t get in trouble, and he’d looked like a kid in a goddamn candy shop about it so yeah: Steve thinks he kinda did give a shit.

But he’s…not there.

“Gareth’s been itching to take the reins after he won out the final track list,” Eddie offers as explanation; “cocky bastard.”

And they collaborate on all the writing, music and lyrics, they’re not even the slightest bit competitive about it which would be hard to believe if all you saw of the members of Corroded Coffin were their goddamn shenanigans during a campaign; but the one think in their music that they docompete over?

Whose title-idea gets the opener on a given album. And Gareth did end up scooping them all when the execs came back with a shuffle. Steve had watched it unfold in real time; he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a grown man crow like Gareth had, and he is married to Edward fucking Munson.

So that’s saying something.

“Eds,” Steve tries to prod a little at the point of it all though, because Eddie’s got press, and this is a high school, and probably Eddie could get to the studio in time to catch the end of whatever, it’s prerecorded, he knows that much, they could squeeze a live interview in so they could probably do Eddie at the end and just shuffle it around, right, it’s easy, and that’s so much more important than this because this:

“Eds, it’s just a—“

“It’s the spring musical, baby,” Eddie says like he’s announcing the arrival of the president, of the Queen of England, then his eyes soften a little as he flicks at one of the real mattresses that will, presumably, be props for the actors if the show’s title isn’t a fucking lie: “you know that’s where my DM throne had its humble origins, before I elevated it to greatness?”

Steve did know that, not least because they’d smuggled Eddie in to DM a few special sessions before the gremlins graduated, and he’d taken his seat with regal aplomb every time, and Steve had learned that yeah, they used the random storage room that was mostly drama shit for Hellfire.

And the way he’d learned that was by sucking Eddie off hidden by some very ratty but very conveniently poofy ballgowns from a production of Cinderella.

“I missed you.”

Steve turns to him and blinks; Eddie’s eyes are on the mattress, his stance almost a little shy.

“You saw me this morning,” Steve doesn’t ask, exactly, but he…he’s not sure he’s following, is the thing.

“I was,” Eddie sighs, and flops to sit down on the mattress which, thankfully, is a mattress and gives a little, bounces under him.

“I was just feeling, I dunno,” he gives a shrug that fades into something like a shiver, and then Eddie’s arms come around too hug around his middle as he ducks his chin and, oh no.

None of that.

“I thought about you being, you know, you,” and Eddie gets to gesture at the mess of the stage only halfway before Steve’s catching his hand, lacing their fingers and pulling Eddie back up to standing, then back into Steve’s arms here he leans heavy, sighs deeper this time; relief instead of something shallow.

“Just you doing all this when you don’t even have a horse in the race, y’know?” Eddie muffles into the side of Steve’s neck, burrowed in tight. “And I was supposed to be in the zone about press and shit, and it just,” he shakes his head, which is more like the brush of his lips back and forth against Steve’s skin; “it wasn’t clicking at all, like I posed and did the looks and whatever,” and oh, Steve knows the looks, Steve has about half those looks printed out and framed in various parts of their home or tucked safe inside his wallet, whereas the other half he takes great joy in recreating at random to the chagrin of his darling husband, love of his whole goddamn life.

“Then Jeff asked if I wanted to duck out,” and Eddie smiles up at him, a little sheepish; they both know the boys can see right through Eddie feeling needy, or lovelorn; Steve’s grateful as shit for Eddie’s bandmates, their friends, for knowing when Eddie just needs Steve.

“I didn’t even think twice, just,” Eddie swallows hard, a little, peeking up through lashes and bangs as he exhales:

“Just wanted to see you before the middle of the fucking night.”

And what can Steve do in the face of that, really? He can’t argue it. Wouldn’t ever fucking want to.

“I love you,” he frames Eddie’s face and kiss the bridge of his nose, then soft between his brows as he breathes out with his whole heart: “so goddamn much.”

“Can you promise me you won’t do the,” Eddie tips his head behind them; “the ladder thing, at least not by yourself?” And Eddie’s eyes are so, so big again. “Like, pretty please, don’t do that again?”

“I won’t,” Steve swears it, and kisses him firm to seal the promise: “thanks for coming to the rescue.” Because there was a three percent chance Steve was going to wipe the fuck out from very very high, and he’s have survived it, but he’s not twenty anymore, and it would have fucking sucked, probably for a while.

“Always, baby,” Eddie murmurs, still tight against Steve lips before he straightens a little, and this time he’s framing Steve’s face, but more holding him still in place, emphatic:

“Actually, amendment,” he says seriously, eyes darting between Steve’s a tiny-touch frantic: “next time you need to be on a ladder, you call me first,” he damn-well declares it, rather than asks; “so I can hold it steady.”

“My hero,” Steve breathes against him with a smile, and there’s not even a hint of teasing in it.

“I don’t trust any other hands to catch you, baby,” Eddie tells him, a little too raw; full sincerity bleeding from him all the sudden as he caresses down the cheeks he’s still cupping: “no one else in the whole wide world appreciates what you’re worth.”

“And what’s that, exactly,” Steve scoffs a little, playful where he’s held in Eddie’s arms but Eddie: Eddie’s holding him tight, now, and his heartbeat’s heavy where he’s moving to crush Steve to his chest, and there’s a little wavering pitch of something in his voice when he whispers:

“The whole wide world,” and oh.

That’s the answer.

It’s Steve’s answer, too, to the same exact question, but hearing it said so plain never stops feeling like the ending and remaking of the whole wide world, every time.

So yeah, Steve has to take a minute to swallow through the tightness in his throat, and maybe he does that with his forehead bowed against his husbands so they breathe each other in as a rule just in the course of living in the moment, together—and when the straighten up Steve steals a kiss first, quick but hard, with feeling, before he cracks his neck and sighs, taking in the scene that’s settled around them.

“Help me try and figure this out to hang?” Steve kicks at the tarp-tapestry, and Eddie walks its perimeter critically before frowning up at Steve.

“Think it needs some touch ups,” he pronounces solemnly, and fuck, yeah, all the color-dust from the useless staple-holes and the falling. But his husband’s actually really good with details, and matching colors, and using a brush, and fantasy settings—

“Paint’s in the back,” he says with a lilt of suggestion and Eddie lights up and grabs Steve’s hand to drag him toward the promise of painting, like maybe all he needed really was just…this.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

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funnylittlelad · 1 year

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Shelter From The Storm - Steddie

Page Six

<< Page Five | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Seven>>

summary: “Who are you?” Jack’s voice questions with mild irritation.

“Go wait for Eddie in the bedroom, sweetheart,” Wayne’s voice says gently.

“And who is this cute little thing? Why didn’t you tell me I’m a grandpa, Wayne?”

That voice makes Eddie’s blood run cold. His heart slams to a standstill, but the rest of him is on the move. He barges into the trailer, nostrils flaring. His stomach is sent roiling as he makes eye contact with a man around Wayne's age, just with more hair and meaner eyes. His face is rounder, but the relation is still clear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie demands.

Jack darts to cling to Eddie’s legs. He instinctively places her behind him, never taking his eyes off the asshole in front of him.

“C’mon, Ed, it's the holiday. You can't even give your old man a simple hello?” He grins sharply.

wc: 11.2k

series tags/notes: Steddie Dadfic, single dad!Steve Harrington, Music Teacher!Eddie Munson, girl dad Steve, Jewish Eddie, Steve's parents are The Worst, mentions/talks about past abuse, complicated family dynamics, pretty Steve-centric, implied past suicide, talks about illness and death, Fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow burn.

page warnings: depictions of violence and references to past child abuse

The move won't happen until around Jack’s seventh birthday. That's what they decided. Steve wants to make sure Jack can sleep in her own room before making any big changes. It’s not an easy adjustment when they're at Eddie’s. The first time Steve told her no to her climbing in bed with them he thought he might cry just as hard as she did. It doesn't get much easier from there. She always tries and he always says no.

“God, I fucking hate this,” Eddie breathes one night.

The wind howls outside the windows as snow coats everything. They're on their backs lying awake in bed listening to Jack’s cries in the other room.

“I know, me too,” Steve sighs.

“Does this get any easier?”

Tired and a touch irritated from the overstimulation of constant cries, Steve jumps to the worst conclusion.

“What? Being a parent? I hate to break it to you, Eds, but it's hard and it always will be. If that's not something you're sure you want-”

“I’m sure. I know I want this,” Eddie states without hesitation.

A smile crawls onto Steve’s face in the dark at Eddie’s words. They comfort Steve immensely. It's easy to slip into insecurity still.

“What do you want her to call you?” He asks quietly, hoping a change in topics will be enough to distract them.

“What d'you mean?”

“Do you want to be dad or just Eddie ?”

Eddie stares into the dark for a moment. It’s not something he’s really thought about. He knows he wants to be Jack’s dad. He wants to be seen as Jack’s dad. He wants Jack to see him as her dad.

“I think… I want to be dad , i-if that's okay,” he answers.

Steve turns onto his side. He wraps a warm heavy arm around Eddie’s torso.

“That's more than okay. I want you to be dad too,” he tells him.

Eddie smiles as he turns in Steve's hold. This way they can bury their faces in each other’s necks. Jack’s cries soon fade out allowing for sleep to edge in. They fall asleep breathing in each other’s scents. The next morning Eddie wakes up first. He makes sure Jack doesn't sleep in too late and takes care of her morning routine. She seems over the betrayal of leaving her alone in the room, much to Eddie’s relief.

Jack and Eddie enjoy their morning together. It's always a nice snapshot of what's to come. Plus, Steve can be grumpy in the morning which in turn makes Jack grumpy. Eddie never gives her a chance to get grumpy. He wakes her with tickles, dinosaur soup already made and steaming for her on the table. He’s even taken to making some for himself. Some mornings she asks to play the guitar, others she just wants to curl up on the couch and watch cartoons. This is a guitar kind of morning.

Steve comes out while Jack is strumming away on Eddie’s six-string. Eddie himself is doing the dishes from breakfast. Jack beams at Steve but doesn't cease her playing. He plants a kiss on the top of her head before moving on to the kitchen. When Eddie comes into view Steve slows and tries to be quiet.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” Eddie says before Steve can surprise him.

“How’d you know I was here?” Steve whines playfully as he gets himself a mug.

“Jack changed what she was playing,” Eddie turns and gives him a quick kiss, “This one’s your song. Last one was mine.”

“What?” Steve’s brows furrow as he pours his coffee.

“Kinda like a theme song,” Eddie shrugs.

“She has one for both of us?”

“I think she has one for everyone. It’s something I started noticing a few weeks ago.”

Steve pauses and just listens. The sound of the running water dies as Eddie finishes the dishes. Soon all Steve can hear is the strumming of a light and airy song. It’s steady, rhythmic, and comforting. Jack’s song for Steve is the kind of song you could put on as you read by a crackling fire on a freezing winter day.

“Yours is my favorite one,” Eddie comments with a smile.

“She’s amazing,” Steve breathes in wonder.

No matter what, Jack always manages to make these moments. Moments where she knocks him into a stupor with how smart and sweet she is. Moments where Steve is sure she’s the most talented kid on the planet. Moments when he's just absolutely astounded by how amazing his daughter is.

“You’re telling me. She's a few months away from playing circles around me. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Eddie chuckles.

The song changes to something quicker, a little more lively, and erratic. Steve realizes it's what Jack was playing when he first came out. It’s her song for Eddie. He watches Eddie’s face melt into something drowning in affection as the song change hits him.

“Let me take you on a date. Like a real one, just us. We can go out somewhere for food, maybe catch a movie,” Steve suggests.

Eddie beams at him.

“Pick me up at six?”

“Let's make it five so that way we can drop Jack off together. I’ll start asking around for a sitter,” Steve smiles brightly.

His heart is fluttering at the prospect of taking Eddie on a real bonafide date. They've never truly been together without Jack. She’s always there either playing, sleeping, or practicing music. It’s something they both love, but to have time with only each other? That’s a precious commodity that won't ever come often enough.

“I’m sure Wayne will be up for it,” Eddie says.

“Are you sure? I was going to ask Rob. I know she’s off tonight,” Steve furrows his brows.

Eddie steps up to him, closing any space that may have remained. One hand rests on the base of Steve’s neck where it meets his shoulder, warming him through his shirt. His free hand finds Steve’s eyebrows. Once there, his thumb gently smooths out the wrinkle between them and eases the frequent scrunching of Steve’s eyebrows. A small smile crawls onto Steve’s lips as he relaxes his face under Eddie’s touch.

“You can ask whoever you want, but I just wanted to remind you that Wayne is there too. We’re kind of a package deal,” Eddie scrunches his own face in a dramatic display of his seriousness in the most unserious way possible.

“She does seem to like him.”

“The Munson charm is hard to beat.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Steve huffs a wry laugh.

“You’re just mad it seems to be especially strong against Harringtons,” Eddie teases.

The hand that smoothed Steve’s eyebrows rakes through Steve’s soft hair. Steve closes his eyes at the sensation, just enjoying it. He hums in subtle agreement with Eddie’s words. The Munson charm does seem to work on the Harringtons just a bit more than anyone else.

They end up dropping Jack off with Robin around five. Mostly because she offers, really she insists , on making it a sleepover with Jack. Jack is elated at the idea, forgetting entirely that Eddie and Steve would be off together without her. It was a sore subject when they brought it up to her.

Neither of them dresses especially nicely. They opt for Benny’s over the more expensive and fancier option across town, Enzo’s. Expensive and fancy don't feel like them. Perhaps it would have felt like Steve at one point, but certainly not anymore. Burgers and beers at Benny’s, however, definitely do. The laid-back environment allows them to be relaxed and not as nervous as they could be. Although, Steve is definitely still visibly nervous. He fidgets with his fingers on the table and anxiously glances between Eddie and the drink before him.

“You going shy on me, Stevie?” Eddie prods playfully, nudging Steve's sneaker with his boot under the table.

“I- uh- I haven't been on a date since before Jack was born,” Steve admits with a small dry chuckle.

Eddie laughs, to Steve’s dismay. When Steve’s face drops, Eddie quickly reassured him.

“I’ve actually never been on a real date,” Eddie tells him with a goofy smile.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, “people weren't fighting to go out with me in high school. Besides, if any girls had a crush on me it wouldn’t have mattered. I’m not exactly a ladies' man, y’know.”

Steve chews on that for a moment. He tentatively reaches across the small table and takes Eddie’s ringed hand into his own.

“Have you ever thought about what would be different if we started seeing each other in high school?” He asks with warm wondrous eyes.

Eddie frowns a bit and shakes his head.

“Honestly, I’m glad we didn't.”

“Why?”

“Well, we wouldn't have Jack, for one,” he raises his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve smiles and rolls his eyes.

“That’s a cop-out and you know it. Did… did you not like me back then?” The question comes out more insecure than Steve likes.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“I tried not to, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn't ogling at your ass in those light blue Levi's. It’s me I didn't like. Why d’you think I was always showing off so much?” He chuckles wryly.

“I dunno, I just thought you liked the attention. Why d'you think I never gave it to you?” Steve chuckles in return, blush burning across his face.

“I was compensating. Everyone hates you long enough and you start to think maybe they have a point,” Eddie shrugs with a sad smile.

It breaks Steve’s heart to hear. He wishes he wasn't so caught up in himself in high school. He wishes he hadn't been too shallow to try to talk to Eddie. Eddie had been right, though. Then they wouldn't have Jack. Jack, who is the light of their life. Jack, who is the reason they’re even together in the first place. Without Jack, they never would have crossed paths again in such a meaningful way.

“I never hated you,” Steve tells him softly.

Eddie looks at him with wide coffee-brown eyes. A light dusting of color takes over his cheeks.

“Sure you did,” he says dismissively, “You were King Steve . We were natural enemies.”

“Yet, you were ogling my ass in my light blue Levi’s,” Steve arches a playful eyebrow.

“What can I say,” Eddie shrugs, “you’ve got a nice ass, Harrington.”

Eddie tilts the neck of his beer bottle toward Steve briefly before taking a swig. Steve chuckles as he takes a swig of his own.

“I never hated you, Eds,” he states again, “Actually, it was the opposite.”

“You liked me?” Eddie scoffs in disbelief.

“I respected you at the very least. You were the only one that didn't treat Sarah like a pariah. I did what I could, but no one listened to me. You were the only person I never had to defend her against,” Steve explains.

“Yeah, people were dicks. She sat with us during lunch the last couple of months, but she wouldn't talk about anything too much. I remember…” Eddie trails off and then bursts out laughing.

“What?” Steve laughs.

“I remember telling her the kid was an honorary Hellfire member. Guess I was more right than I realized,” he says.

Steve laughs harder, shaking his head.

“I’m starting to think you were meant to be Jack’s dad.”

The comment comes so offhandedly, but it stops Eddie completely. He studies every crease in Steve’s face as he smiles. He lets the words sink deep into his chest, like talons into his heart.

“You think so?” He asks a little breathlessly.

Steve seems to realize the weight of what he’s said to someone he’s only officially been dating for a little more than a month. His face falls into something insecure. He goes to pull his hand back, but Eddie holds on tighter when he tries.

“I’m sorr-”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Stevie. I like that you feel that way because… Well, I do too. I think I was always meant to be with you two in whatever way you’d let me. I’m just really fucking happy you’re letting me be with you this way,” Eddie informs him warmly with a squeeze of his hand.

“I’m really fucking happy too,” Steve says softly with a smile.

They’re busy staring affectionately into each other’s eyes when Benny brings their food over. He places the plates in front of them but doesn't leave immediately. Instead, he clasps a hand on Steve’s shoulder and asks about Jack.

“She’s doing good. She’s been learning guitar and piano over at Eddie’s,” Steve nods toward the man in question.

Benny’s eyes skirt over their hands as they move to Eddie. It’s a relief to see a warm smile on his face. He nods cordially.

“Mordor Music, right? Just down the street?”

“That’s me,” Eddie confirms with a smile of his own, “Honestly, I don't know how much I’m teaching her at this point. She was born knowing how to play, I swear.”

“I believe it. That kid’s smart as a whip,” Benny chuckles.

“It helps that she’s got such a good dad,” Eddie says.

Steve can feel the fire evident on his cheeks.

“She sure does,” Benny agrees with a squeeze of Steve’s shoulder.

He leaves them to eat after that, throwing an approving smile at Steve as he does. The rest of dinner goes about the same. They take turns teasing and embarrassing each other all in the name of love. Steve can't remember the last time he’s laughed this much with someone. Eddie can't remember the last time he felt at ease with someone. He’s usually a poorly hidden bundle of nervous energy looking to get out.

Steve drives them back to Eddie’s. The guitar above his couch is missing. He allowed Jack to take it with her in a compromise for her cooperation. He had a serious talk with her about its importance. She nodded like a dutiful soldier, both hands around the neck of the guitar. Steve catches Eddie glancing at the empty space a couple of times as they take their shoes and coats off.

“You really didn't have to let her take it,” Steve says as he places his well-kept white sneakers beside Eddie’s kicked-off scuffed boots.

“I trust her. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been away from it,” Eddie walks across the living room to the stereo that's placed in the television stand and begins fussing with the collection of tapes.

Steve follows until he’s in the middle of the room.

“Can I ask why Wayne seemed surprised you let her play it?” Steve asks cautiously.

Eddie pauses by the stereo. He sighs.

“It was my mom’s. It’s the only thing of her’s I have. My dad either destroyed or threw out everything else. I managed to save the guitar by getting Wayne to take it. A couple other smaller things,” he explains.

“Eds, she really doesn't have to play it. We can get her a guitar.”

“No, it’s okay. I like seeing her play it. It makes me feel a little closer to my mom.”

Steve swallows back tears. Eddie’s face is so soft and sincere. All Steve can do is nod. He’s too afraid of his voice wavering to speak. Eddie pops a tape in the stereo. As he makes his way over to Steve a familiar song starts to softly drift through the air. Eddie places his hands on Steve’s hips. Steve mindlessly throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, hands shamelessly playing with his hair.

“Madonna?” Steve questions quietly with a smile.

Eddie gets his own grin as he looks at Steve through hooded lids.

“Dustin may have mentioned something about you and Madonna,” he answers coyly.

They sway gently together like they're teenagers at prom. Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s.

“You’re so pretty, Stevie,” he whispers.

For what seems like the millionth time that night, Steve blushes deep red.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not. You’ve got the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Pretty brown eyes, pretty nose, and those pretty lips I never wanna stop kissing,” he drawls.

“Then kiss them, big boy.”

Eddie flashes a wolfish grin before ducking in to kiss Steve. Eddie kisses him with such fervor it lights every bit of Steve on fire. They move to Eddie’s bedroom, never daring to break apart. Steve starts pawing at Eddie’s shirt as they pass through the threshold. Eddie pauses then, pulling away just enough to look Steve in his lust-blown eyes.

“Are you sure?” He checks.

Madonna’s Crazy For You can still be heard through the open door.

“I’m sure,” Steve nods.

They’re kissing again furiously to make up for the lost moments they spent speaking. It doesn't take long for their clothes to pile onto the floor. Soon after that Madonna’s voice is drowned out by their own.

Eddie wakes up first in the morning, to no surprise. He doesn't leave bed this time, though. There’s no Jack to wake up to allow Steve to sleep in. There’s just the two of them, skin to skin, tangled together under his comforter. Steve’s face is pressed into Eddie’s chest as he breathes evenly. Eddie revels in the warmth of him. He revels in the glow of the night before. Nothing in his life has ever felt so right.

He doesn't move until Steve stirs thirty minutes later. Steve blinks long lashes up at him with a sleep-dazed smile.

“G’mornin’,” he murmurs.

Eddie’s heart soars at the image of him.

“‘Mornin’, baby girl.”

Steve's face scrunches, the morning drowsiness dramatizing his expressions.

“ Baby girl ?” He questions groggily.

“Yeah, I can’t help it when you look all soft and cute like that,” Eddie croons.

“But baby girl?”

“What, you don't like it?” Eddie pouts.

“I didn't say that.”

“So you do like it.”

Steve groans and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. A chuckle vibrates against Steve's forehead.

“C’mon, baby girl. We got a kid to go get.”

Steve groans again causing Eddie to full-on laugh. They spent another twenty minutes like that. Eddie ceaselessly calls Steve baby girl , flustering him to the fullest potential. He does it all the way up until Robin answers her door. When she does Eddie is grinning like a maniac while Steve is a blushing mess. A fluid, quick, frantic tune can be heard from further in her apartment.

“Fun night?” She smirks.

“Oh, you have no idea , Buckley,” Eddie says.

Steve elbows him lightly. Robin just laughs and steps aside so they can enter. Jack strums away at the guitar on the couch. She’s still in her pajamas. When she notices Steve and Eddie her strumming ceases. She places the guitar on the couch next to her with the utmost care before bounding over to them. They sandwich her in a hug and she wastes no time gushing about her girls' night with Auntie Rob.

“Can we have another girls' night soon?” She asks the three of them.

Robin shoots them a smirk.

“We sure can, menace,” she answers.

Steve’s mother shows up at Roann County Community College a few weeks before Christmas. He’s changing the garbage in a classroom on a perfectly boring Wednesday. His breath halts when he notices his mother standing in the doorway. She’s as manicured as usual. Her hands are clasped in front of her as she gives him an indiscernible look.

“Steven,” she says gently.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” He asks bluntly.

“I… Well, I don't know where you live and I need to speak with you,” she sighs.

“Okay… Just, close the door.”

She nods and does as he says. Steve leans back on the desk at the front of the room and crosses his arms. His mother’s heels click as they make their way closer to him. She stops five feet away.

“I know I haven't been a perfect parent. There are many things I wish I fought harder, but your father… The point is, I’m sorry, Steven. I know that no apology from me could ever be enough after everything I let him get away with, but I’m not letting him get away with anything anymore. I know it's too late, but it’s the least I can do,” she tells him, holding back her nerves.

Steve watches her with wide eyes. A lump sits firmly in his throat. Here his mother is, standing before him in an attempt to assuage her guilt for being useless in everything.

“What are you saying exactly?” He asks hoarsely.

“I’m giving you and Jack an inheritance. I’m selling the house. You’ll be getting fifty thousand each,” she states.

Steve’s knees go weak, but the desk saves him from wobbling. His arms uncross to allow his hands to grip the edge of the fake wood. A hundred thousand dollars. More money than Steve ever hoped to see in his life once he was on his own.

“What’s the catch?”

“There is none. You don't even have to speak to me ever again if you don't want to. I would like to leave you my new phone number, though. For if you ever find yourself wanting to use it,” she explains, voice growing ever softer.

Steve rubs the corners of his mouth with one hand as the other grips the edge of the desk. His heart pounds in his ears. None of this feels real. He stares his mother in her eyes which look too much like his. She places a neatly folded piece of paper on the desk next to her. He truly thought for sure he would never hear from her again after the funeral. Is this a trick? A game?

“I’m with Eddie. Jack and I are going to move in with him. No amount of money is going to change that,” he tells her firmly.

“I don't expect it to. Jack has two parents who clearly love her. I don’t want to take that from her. I’m… I really am happy for you, Steven. I’ll mail you the check when it comes in,” she answers.

Steve nods as he takes it all in. Somehow he feels so very heavy and so completely light.

“Th- thank you,” he croaks.

She gives him one last smile before leaving. Steve stays where he is for a few more minutes trying to regain his composure. Once he does, he continues his shift trying his best not to think too hard. Any time he did his heart would start racing in his throat again. By the time he gets off his head is spinning. Jack is with Grandma Buck today, but Steve goes straight to Mordor Music.

When he walks in Eddie is checking out some teenagers with a stack of records. He makes recommendations based on what they have picked out. The kids say something that makes him laugh, showing off a beautiful smile that Steve can't get enough of. Today Eddie has his hair up in a sloppy bun, his nail polish is chipped, and he wears Steve’s work coat over a plain black sweater. It fills Steve with a buzzing happiness in his gut.

The kids bid Eddie goodbye. They seem to be regulars. As they pass Steve, Eddie’s eyes find him. A bright smile takes over his face but falters when he really takes him in.

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, coming out from behind the counter.

Steve meets him halfway with a hug. It’s tight, but brief because Eddie won't let him get away with the distraction for that long. He holds Steve by his upper arms and studies his face.

“My mom stopped by the college today,” Steve sighs.

“What the fuck did she want?” Eddie scoffs.

“She’s giving us an inheritance. She… she’s giving us a hundred grand.”

Eddie blinks at Steve for a moment with wide eyes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.

“Holy shit,” Eddie shakes him a little bit.

“I know,” he chuckles.

“Are you on your way to get Jack?”

Steve nods.

“What d'you say you two come over for dinner later?”

“We’ll be there.”

They spend a lot of dinners together, but Eddie is especially excited about this one. It's not done by any means, but he’s started making the guest room into Jack’s room. He plans to do more, but he thinks there's enough to make the nights alone there easier. To make it feel like home for her.

After dinner that night he makes a big deal out of the reveal. He makes Steve give him a drumroll on the wall. Jack swings open the door and gasps. It looks mostly the same, but the bedspread is dotted with stars like hers at home. The posters around the bed are gone. They’ve been replaced by shiny black bat decals that swarm across the wall. They’re positioned in such a way that they really resembled the bats from the Scooby Doo Where Are You? opening.

Jack bounces up to her bed and climbs up to stand on it. She points excitedly at the bats and beams at them.

“Daddy, look! Bats like mine!”

“Those bats are yours, sweet girl,” Eddie tells her.

Her inky eyes go huge.

“They are?”

“Yeah, when you’re here this is your room. Those little guys are yours,” he smiles.

Jack falls back onto the bed absolutely giddy. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie from behind, placing his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s hands clasp over Steve’s on his stomach.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers into Eddie’s ear.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Eddie whispers back.

“There’s everything to thank you for.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheekbone, chaste and sweet. Then he’s tackling Jack into the bed and tickles her until she’s giggling like mad. Eddie watches on with a fond smile, loving every bit of this. He loves these two Harringtons with every fiber of his being and he plans to tack Munson onto their last names one day.

The piano contest is in February. They have until January fifteenth to sign Jack up, but they needed a song. Picking a song turns out to be much harder than they expect. Every suggestion Jack shakes her head no to. When they ask what she wants to play she just shrugs. She’s taken to searching the store for any albums that pique her interest and even Eddie’s own collection at home. Nothing has grabbed her yet. When asked what she's looking for in a song she struggles to form the words. She just says all the ones she's found or has been offered to her are too easy, which means they're boring .

Then Jack finds it. There’s an old milk crate in Eddie’s closet with a few frayed album sleeves. She drags the crate out into the living room where Steve and Eddie are too engrossed in Scooby Doo to notice her brief disappearance. The movement draws their attention, though. Eddie looks a little panicked whereas Steve looks confused.

“I found your secret music,” she tells Eddie with a toothy grin.

“Yeah, you sure did,” he chuckles nervously.

“Secret music?” Steve asks.

“I keep it at the back of my closet. They're my mom’s favorite records. Not her original ones, but the first presses I’ve come across,” he explains.

Steve spends a minute scolding Jack for invading Eddie’s privacy. She apologizes and Eddie forgives her. Although, he was never really mad, to begin with. More like concerned for the health and safety of those records. He answers all her questions about them including which songs were his mom’s favorites. Then she made him play them all. The three of them dance to Billy Joel in the living room, Jack giggling like crazy. By the end of the last album, they're all breathing heavily with giant smiles. Jack gestures for Steve to come closer so she can say something in his ear.

He does so curiously. She cups her hands around her mouth at his ear.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

She nods with a smile. Steve smiles over at Eddie.

“She picked out a song, but she wants it to be a surprise for you,” he says.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A soft smile toys with the corners of his mouth.

“A surprise for me?”

“Yes! No watching me practice,” Jack wags a stern finger at him.

He puts his hands up in surrender.

“I won't, I promise,” he assures her.

She seems satisfied with that. Steve honestly is a little bit nervous about her song choice. He knows she’s more than capable of playing circles around these kids, but she picked a doozy. It’s fast , and all over the place. It just sounds complicated to Steve. He can't imagine her tiny hands having an easy time playing it. He knows Jack does nothing but surprise him. So, he signs her up to play Falling of the Rain by Billy Joel. Eddie moves her keyboard at the store into an empty lesson room so she can practice in privacy when she’s there.

As the holidays approach a conversation Eddie has yet to have with Steve looms over him. Steve automatically starts talking to Eddie about Christmas plans. At first, Eddie simply smiles and nods. It's never come up that he doesn't celebrate the same holidays as them. For Christmas, Steve agrees to let Eddie buy Jack one instrument. It actually tears him apart. On the one hand, he really wants to get her the guitar she’s eyed many times with the emerald green rosette. On the other hand, he wants her to be able to practice for the competition at home too so an electric piano makes more sense. He spends a few days agonizing over it before coming up with an idea.

“What if the store loans her an instrument?” Eddie suggests one night over the phone after Jack was sound asleep.

“Like what?” Steve questions suspiciously.

He’s been wary about Eddie and giving Jack instruments since the tambourine. Which he still has to bribe away from Jack some nights.

“I've got a Casio just begging to be used. You can bring it back to the store after the competition. This way she can get in as much practice as possible,” Eddie pleads his case.

“And this is something music stores normally do for their students?”

“I mean… There are usually a few more strings attached, but-”

“Eddie, I don't want her getting special treatment just because we’re dating,” Steve protests.

“I don't know if you’ve noticed, but Jack’s always gotten special treatment. It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with the fact that I know the kinds of kids she’s going to be up against in situations like this. In auditions for schools and shit- the real selective stuff that I know she can get. They’re all going to have way more money and resources,” Eddie says.

“You’ve said yourself that Jack can outplay any of those kids. She has the talent to earn her way.”

“Steve, I’m talking teachers that cost hundreds of thousands a year, top-of-the-line instruments, classical training . Even without all of that, Jack has more raw talent than any of them, but at the end of the day… it’s not all about that. Gareth's a great piano teacher, but he’s no Beethoven. Jack, well, she could be Beethoven. Why not give her every advantage we can along the way? Even with those advantages she’s going to be at a disadvantage, trust me,” Eddie’s voice is soft, but earnest in their delivery.

Steve stays quiet as he turns the words over in his head. He wishes it took longer for him to come to his decision.

“I know what you're doing,” he grumbles.

“What?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Manipulation is playing dirty, Munson,” he chides.

“Is it working, though?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs.

The next day Eddie is setting the Casio up in the corner of Steve’s tiny living room. He made sure she could use her headphones with it. Steve pouts the entire time. Until Eddie finishes and pulls him into a kiss. After that, Steve can't help smiling.

“While I have you here, we should figure out how we’re doing Christmas. Wayne is always welcome to come-”

“Uh- actually, I was gonna talk to you about that,” Eddie interrupts awkwardly, the looming conversation finally arrives.

“Oh… Is everything okay?” Steve suddenly becomes very worried.

Eddie seems almost nervous and it does nothing to help ease Steve.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I've been meanin’ to invite you two over to Wayne’s this weekend,” Eddie clears his throat, “but I’ve been a little anxious.”

“Why?”

Steve cups Eddie’s face to make him look at him. There's an uncharacteristic insecurity there.

“Chanukah starts this weekend,” he informs Steve.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Okay.”

“It'd really mean a lot to have you guys there.”

Steve blinks a few times.

“To have us at Hanukkah…,” he echoes, missing the slight accent Eddie had in his own pronunciation.

“Steve, I’m Jewish,” Eddie chuckles nervously.

“Oh, okay, so that makes figuring out Christmas a helluva lot easier,” Steve comments in relief.

Eddie laughs heartily.

“So, will you come?”

“Yeah, of course. You’ll probably have to do a lot of explaining, but I’d love that,” Steve smiles.

“I’m happy to explain anything you need.”

“Have you really been anxious to tell me that you’re Jewish?” Steve asks softly.

“People around here… they get weird about it. It’s half the reason me and Byers got it so bad in high school. He’s just lucky they're only half so they celebrate Christmas,” Eddie explains.

“Wait- Byers?”

“You’d be surprised how many of us there are,” Eddie chuckles.

“Sorry, I didn't mean-”

“No, no, it’s okay, really. I love you,” Eddie assures him.

“I love you too.”

Jack has an absolute blast her first two days of Chanukah at Wayne’s. Eddie shows her how to play Dreidel and even teaches her a couple of tunes in Hebrew and Yiddish. The Munsons are far from fully practicing, but they are ones for honoring family traditions. That means Eddie doesn't speak the languages, but there are some songs he remembers from childhood. Jack stuffs herself full of kugel and cookies. She’s snoozing by the time they get home each night.

Monday brings the third night, but Steve gets recruited to work late. He’s tempted to say no, but the overtime would help with Christmas and the end of Chanukah coming up, which is when they agreed to give their gifts for the holiday. Eddie offers to pick her up from school and bring her to Wayne’s. Something Steve happily agrees to. He likes that Eddie is welcoming Jack into his life this way. He doesn't want to stop them from celebrating just because he's working.

Jack sprints out of the school with a large toothy grin. She bounces right into Eddie’s arms. He scoops her up easily, throwing her teacher a curt smile. He’s picked Jack up a few times now, but he has a feeling her teacher isn't a fan of him. He holds her hand the whole way to the car but lets her get in and buckle herself. She gushes about the friend she made talking about Chanukah in class. Hearing her little accent brings a smile to Eddie’s face.

When they enter the trailer, Jack throws herself into Wayne for a hug. He chuckles as he catches her. Just like the first two nights, Wayne holds Jack so she can light the Menorah. The last of the matches break clean in half and Wayne’s lighter dies. In order to save the day, Eddie makes a run to the nearby gas station. It takes him all of fifteen minutes. He gets matches and a lighter for good measure.

There’s a truck next to Wayne's car. It’s an unfamiliar beige monstrosity in the spot Eddie normally parks in. Eddie parks on the other side of the trailer, eyeing the truck suspiciously. Something in his gut twists. Every step feels deliberate. Every crunch of the snow beneath his boots. Heavy-looking work boot prints lead from the truck to the front steps. He furrows his brows at them as he makes his way to the door. Muffled voices grow louder and clearer.

“Who are you?” Jack’s voice questions with mild irritation.

“Go wait for Eddie in the bedroom, sweetheart,” Wayne’s voice says gently.

“And who is this cute little thing? Why didn’t you tell me I’m a grandpa, Wayne?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie demands.

Jack darts to cling to Eddie’s legs. He instinctively places her behind him, never taking his eyes off the asshole in front of him.

“C’mon, Ed, it's the holiday. You can't even give your old man a simple hello?” He grins sharply.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie repeats.

“In all honesty, kid, I wasn't expecting you to be here. I definitely wasn't expecting her,” he jerks a chin at Jack.

She glares at him from around Eddie’s legs. Eddie softly tells her to go wait in the bedroom. She does so reluctantly.

“She yours?” His father asks.

“She’s none of your business. What do you want?” Eddie snaps.

“Wayne, I need some help. I’m in a tight spot, but I swear -”

“We’re not doing this, Al. I don’t got nothin’ to give you,” Wayne interrupts.

“You seriously came here on a fucking holiday to ask for money? Jesus, you’re such a fucking leech,” Eddie seeths.

Anger burns through his veins. Just the sight of his father has him feeling like a cornered wild animal. His hackles are raised, his ears are back, and his teeth are bared. There's only one thing on his mind and it’s keeping Jack as far the fuck away from him as possible.

“You better watch how you talk to me, boy, I’m still your father,” he warns, pointing a finger at Eddie.

“Please, you’re not shit to me. We don't have anything for you so just go,” Eddie orders.

His father turns his attention back to Wayne who frowns sternly.

“Look, I’m in trouble, alright? Y’know I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't serious. I’m asking as your little brother here. I need help,” he pleads.

“You can't be fucking-” Eddie starts.

“How much?” Wayne sighs.

Eddie’s eyes snap to his uncle. Betrayal is written across his features.

“I need twelve hundred by noon tomorrow.”

“Twelve hundred? Al, what the hell did you get yourself into this time?” Wayne questions, rubbing his eyes.

“I made a bad bet with Roscoe and-”

“I thought you were done with that.”

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

“No,” Eddie interjects, “we’re not fucking helping you.”

“Ed,” Wayne sighs.

“ No ! Are you kidding me, Wayne? I've told you everything and you still help this asshole?” Eddie’s voice gets more shaky as it gets louder.

He can hear the rush of his blood in his ears. He can feel his heart fighting to escape his chest.

“Maybe you should go, Al,” Wayne suggests.

Eddie’s father steps up into his space. He tries to intimidate Eddie, tries to make him feel small like he used to. Eddie stands tall. Four inches taller than Al now. He stares at his father down his nose, breathing heavily. They stand off like dogs waiting for the other to make the first move.

“You oughta go wait with the little girl and let the adults speak,” his father drawls.

“The adults are speaking and they’re telling you to get the hell out of here,” Eddie retorts hotly.

“So, who’d you knock up, huh? Some poor girl from a nice family that's stuck here with you now?” His father questions.

“Fuck you,” Eddie spits back, anger burning his chest.

“You think you're so much better than me, but you’re not,” his father pokes his chest, “you’re just like me.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Eddie scoffs.

Both of them are getting increasingly louder. Wayne tries to get them to lower their voices but to no avail.

“Sure you are. Saddled with a kid you never wanted all because you couldn't keep it in your pants.”

Eddie grabs hold of the front of his father’s shirt. He shoves him back into the wall so hard everything hanging shakes. Wayne shouts out, but Eddie can't hear him. Eddie can only hear the furious beat of his heart.

“You shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you,” he hisses.

His father flashes a shit-eating grin and Eddie knows. Eddie knows he’s giving him exactly what he wants. He’s proving his father right, but he can't let go. Not when he’s talking about Jack like that. Not when every drop of fear from childhood has come rushing back, but wrapped up in the intense need to protect Jack. Not when Akl Munson is trying to convince him that they're anything alike.

“Eddie, let him go. He ain't worth this, think of Jack,” Wayne's hand finds Eddie’s shoulder.

He relaxes a minuscule amount under the weight. Eddie allows Wayne to pull him back, letting go of his father. He lets out a steady breath as he turns to face his uncle with apologetic eyes. He calms himself by thinking of Jack in Wayne's bedroom listening to all of this in confusion.

“Yeah, think of your bastard in the other room,” his father sneers.

Something breaks in Eddie. He swears he hears the snap , like the sound of a twig being stepped on in a quiet forest. His vision goes red. Before he knows it, his fist is connecting with his father’s face. He can vaguely hear Wayne shouting. It isn't until Jack’s voice rings out on the third punch that he’s pulled out of it.

“Eddie?” She cries.

He whips around. There’s a small trickle of blood on his knuckles. His father holds his nose behind him. The only thing Eddie is focused on is Jack's small red fearful face. Tears stream down her round cheeks.

“Hey, sweet girl, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay. I’m so sorry I scared you,” he coos softly, dropping to his knees in front of her.

When he reaches for her, she flinches away and his heart rips in half. The entire world feels like it's crashing down around him.

“What’s going on?” She asks tearfully.

“I’ll explain when we get home, alright? I’m gonna get you home and we can watch Leia. How’s that sound?” He offers with big eyes, pleading for her to be okay.

She nods shakily. Eddie presses a kiss on her forehead. Once his lips meet the warm skin of her forehead, the back of Eddie’s collar gets yanked. He chokes, letting out a strangled sound, as he’s dragged backward. Jack screams, shrill and terrified. Eddie’s instinct is to get back to her. He resists the force by trying to go forward. A fistful of his hair gets yanked on next. Eddie buckles under the pain.

Wayne quickly ushers Jack back into the bedroom. Eddie hears the door slam right as something hard hits the side of his head. There’s shouting all around him and throbbing deep in his skull. He manages to twist in his father’s hold and starts throwing more punches. Wayne tries to pull them apart, but Eddie’s father shoves him back. The force sends Wayne into the kitchen counter, eliciting a hiss of pain. It only makes Eddie fight back harder. His father just gets the upper hand when the flashing comes into view. Red and blue illuminate the inside of the trailer from the outside.

The lights don't stop Al Munson from laying into his son on the floor of his brother’s trailer. Eddie wraps his hands around his father’s neck and squeezes, a last-ditch effort to get him off. He flips them so he’s over his father, still choking him. Every single blow, every single insult, every single terrible awful memory comes back at once. Eddie doesn't let go. He doesn't hear his name being called. He doesn't hear the sirens. He forgets about the lights. Everything goes fuzzy and fades out around him. Right now, Eddie is twelve years old trying to get his father to just stop .

Firm arms wrap around him and pull him back. They pin his arms to his sides as he struggles for a moment against the hold.

“Eddie, it’s alright, it's alright. Just calm down,” Hopper’s voice breaks through the fog.

Eddie melts when he registers the arms around him as Hopper’s. Tears immediately begin pouring down his face as everything hits him. Reality snaps back into place all at once. His father is bloody, but standing and being helped onto the couch by two other cops. Wayne is nowhere in sight. Eddie assumes he’s with Jack. Hopper has Eddie in a tight grasp, but not a crushing one.

“I’m sorry- Hopper, I’m so fucking sorry,” he chokes out.

“I know, kid,” Hopper sighs.

“Jack- is she okay?”

Hopper loosens his hold, allowing Eddie to step out of it and face him. He wears a steely expression, but the target of his gaze isn't Eddie. It’s Eddie’s father who sits and tells Callahan whatever bullshit he’s coming up with.

“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s the one that called.”

“Steve?” Eddie asks brokenly.

“He’s on his way over here now.”

Eddie runs his hands over his face as he collects himself. He feels so frantic, fractured, and everywhere all at once. Mostly, he feels so fucking guilty.

“Let’s head outside. You can have a smoke and tell me what happened,” Hopper says, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie simply nods. The cold December air helps to sharpen his thoughts and senses. The nicotine helps soothe the shaking in his hands. He recounts everything to Hopper. Hopper writes it all down, nodding to indicate he’s listening. When Eddie finishes, Hopper tells Callahan to cuff Al Munson and take him in for trespassing and assault.

Steve is stepping out of his BMW as Al is being shoved into the back of a police car. The still flashing red and blue lights highlight the angles of his face as he stares at Eddie across the yard. His mouth is tugged into a frown. His eyebrows are set into a line. There are no sounds around them as they just stand there with their eyes connected.

“Daddy! ” Jack’s voice rings out, punching a hole through the silence that allows all the other noise to come flooding through with it.

Eddie watches Steve squat to catch Jack. They hug each other so tight it sends a painful pang through his chest. Steve buries his face in Jack’s hair. Eddie can tell he’s saying something to her, but not what. Then Jack is squirming out of Steve’s grasp. Her big dark eyes bounce around until they find Eddie. A big relieved smile spreads across her face. It's difficult to tell whether she calls out Eddie or Daddy over all the noise. Either way, Eddie’s stomach flips. She darts to him. He catches her just like Steve did, burying his own face into her hair.

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” He asks.

“I’m okay. I was brave. Are you okay?” She places her hands on either side of his face to look at him.

“I’m okay. Don't worry about me.”

“I was scared you were hurt,” she admits quietly.

“I know, baby. I’m okay, though. I promise.”

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice says softly from far closer than he was expecting.

His wide eyes find Steve’s worried ones. Eddie lets Jack down gently, eyes never leaving Steve. A heavy weight sinks in his gut. Steve must hate him. He’s absolutely certain Steve will want nothing to do with him after tonight. How could he blame him? Steve steps closer, eyes studying Eddie’s sore face. His cheeks and jaw are beginning to ache. There’s sure to be some bruises soon. He opens his mouth to say something- anything but never gets the chance.

Steve pulls him into a tight hug. Eddie’s instantly wrapped around him and lost himself in the embrace. The relief is tangible from both of them. More tears fall from Eddie’s eyes.

“You’re okay?” Steve checks shakily.

“I’m okay,” Eddie confirms.

Jack tugs at Eddie’s pant leg. She gestures to be picked up when he looks down. With a smile, he obliges. Jack attaches herself to Eddie, resting her cheek on his shoulder. The three of them say goodbye to Hopper and Wayne. They leave Eddie’s car there, resigned to get it in the morning. That night Jack is allowed to sleep in the same bed as them. That night they hold onto each other extra tight.

Eddie wakes up alone. At first, there’s an ache in his heart to rival that in his face. Then, he hears movement in the kitchen as he goes to the bathroom. It’s enough to relax him. He hasn't been abandoned. Steve is still here. He isn't alone, not really. The reflection in the mirror has a swollen jaw, a bruised cheekbone, and a busted lip. He thinks the last time his reflection looked this bad he was in high school.

When he exits the bathroom Steve is sitting on the couch. His elbows rest on his knees, propping him up as he leans forward on them. His eyes meet Eddie’s as he hears the bathroom door. A small reassuring smile crawls onto his lips. There’s a glass of water, two white pills, and an ice pack on the coffee table. Eddie smiles back even though it hurts. Steve pats the cushion next to him. Eddie sits so close he might as well have crawled into Steve’s lap. Their hands lace together. Steve offers Eddie the pills and then the water. Eddie accepts both graciously, downing the pills quickly. Steve replaces the water with the ice pack for Eddie’s throbbing face.

“Where’s Jack?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Joyce picked her up. I decided to let her have the day off of school after everything,” Steve answers, just as quietly.

Eddie nods, suddenly nervous. Steve made sure they were alone. Eddie can't help feeling in trouble. He keeps his eyes trained on his lap, ashamed of himself and the man he came from.

“How are you feeling?” Steve ducks in an attempt to catch Eddie’s eyes.

“Sore,” Eddie huffs, still averting his gaze, “Do you hate me?”

“No, Eds, I don't hate you. I’m worried, maybe a little upset, but mostly I’m just glad you’re okay. That was a really scary phone call to get,” Steve explains softly.

Eddie finally meets Steve’s warm honey gaze.

“Who called you?” Eddie doesn't ask what he wants.

He doesn't ask outright if it was Jack.

“Hopper. He told me Jack had called 911 and something about you being attacked. I didn't know what to think. I was so afraid I lost you.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes.

“It isn't your fault, but we need to have a plan in place for if something like this happens again. I don't ever want Jack in this kind of situation again,” Steve states.

Eddie nods instantly.

“Next time I’m just gonna get us the hell out of there. I just… that was the first time I’ve seen him in over a decade. He was sayin’ shit about Jack and I was gonna walk away- you gotta believe I was gonna walk away, Stevie. Then h-he grabbed me and it was like I was a kid again. I-I blacked out,” he explains with a shaky voice, but steady resolve.

“I believe you,” Steve promises, “but we should still have something set up for all of us. If he’s shown up once, we can’t rule out the possibility of him showing up again.”

“Yeah, okay. What did you have in mind?”

They spend the better part of an hour and a half coming up with emergency plans. The plan for Eddie’s dad prompts a more in-depth conversation. Plans for as many scenarios as they can imagine themselves running into. Unwanted visit from an abusive parent? Load Jack in the car, call up the other, and wait it out until they can get the hell out of there. Can’t wait that long? Call Hopper. Jack-related emergency? Make sure Jack is okay first , but immediately notify the other. Eddie has to take point on something school related? It’s something they’ve talked about before but never came to a real conclusion on.

“I don’t think we should call you Jack’s dad until she does,” Steve says.

“Me too. Besides, that gives me more time to think of something different to be called. Dad just sounds so… old ,” Eddie replies.

Steve chuckles.

“I’m okay with you just calling yourself my partner, if you are,” he tells Eddie.

“I’m definitely okay with that,” Eddie smiles.

Joyce worries over Eddie the moment they step foot in the house. He smiles as her hands fly around his face in a motherly fashion. She insists he sits at the table and lets her make him tea. Eddie has a hard time arguing. It’s something he’s discovered about Joyce. Denying her mothering is extremely difficult. Jack climbs onto Eddie’s lap. He easily circles his arms around her and she sinks into his chest.

When Jack almost knocks Eddie’s tea from his hand, Joyce tries to shoo her off. Jack clings to Eddie’s torso harder. Eddie assures Joyce it’s fine, but she gives Jack her best disapproving mom look. Jack sticks out a petulant tongue. Joyce sticks her own out in return, causing Jack to giggle.

“Can we go to the store? I wanna play piano,” Jack asks Eddie with big puppy dog eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to agree without a thought. Steve cuts him off.

“Not today, princess. Eddie needs to rest. We can do whatever you want at home, though,” he says to her.

“Home or home home?”

“What do you mean?” Steve scrunches his eyebrows.

“Sometimes when you say home we go to Eddie’s, but sometimes we go home home,” she explains.

“O-oh-”

“I don't wanna go home home. I wanna go home with Eddie.”

Eddie swears he’s a second away from melting and sliding right off the chair. His hold on her firms up as his affection leaks out of every pore. Steve gives her a small smile.

“We can go home with Eddie,” he tells her.

Jack buries herself into Eddie’s torso. It’s a signal she’s done with the conversation and satisfied with its result. Joyce looks over the two of them with fondness. She asks Steve to help her with something in the other room, which he agrees to do without hesitation. Once in the living room, Joyce turns on him. Her features are soft with concern.

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs, “work’s been good. Everything’s been good.”

“I mean after last night,” she raises her eyebrows as she clarifies.

Steve can't bullshit her no matter how hard he tries.

“I… I-” his voice cracks.

Joyce has him in a hug before he even registers he’s crying. All the emotion, the fear, the gut-wrenching sensation of the floor being dropped from under him comes rushing to the front. His priority was Eddie and Jack. Make sure they're both okay. Make sure they're both dealing with things and not bottling them up. Make sure they know how much they're loved and supported. He didn't once think of himself in this situation. No, once the phone call with Hopper was over Steve had a one-track mind.

“Kid, something’s happened over at the Munson’s,” Hopper’s voice had crackled through the shitty office phone.

Steve’s stomach instantly twisted into knots. He was patting his pockets in search of his keys.

“Are they okay? Is Jack-”

“Jack’s fine. She called us, but you should get over here as soon as you can. Something tells me your boy’s gonna need you,” Hopper tells him solemnly.

“What happened?” Steve is breathless as he tries to regain his footing on the tilted ground beneath him.

“His old man showed up, started trouble… he- uh- Well, he attacked Eddie. Just get over here, alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m on my way. Tell them I’m on my way.”

Pulling up to see Forest Hills lit up like a patriotic Christmas tree only twisted his stomach more. His mouth was completely dry by the time he was parked. Stepping out of the car, Steve’s eyes scanned the scene until they landed on Eddie. The entire world came to a stop. There’s no movement around him, there's no sound or annoying glaring police lights. There’s just Eddie's dark eyes pouring right back into Steve’s. All Steve could do was stare and think Thank God, he’s okay. Eddie’s okay. It’s impossible to tell the damage done from a distance, but there’s a lit cigarette between his lips so Steve knew he must have been somewhat okay.

Jack’s voice broke him from his Eddie-filled trance. The moment she was in his arms Steve’s feelings were put on the back burner. He left them back there on a low simmer. Joyce is trying to give the pot a stir before it boils over.

“I was so scared, Joyce. I- I was so scared,” he lets out with a shaky breath.

She squeezes him tighter before letting go. This gives Steve the agency to step back to be able to look at her again. He remains in arms reach so she can give him a motherly caress of his dampened cheek.

“I know, sweetie. They’re okay, though. I know you want to be there for them, but don't forget you need them to be there for you too. This happened to you too,” she says with a gentle smile.

Steve sucks in a sharp, but steadying breath. He nods. She’s right, as she usually is. Steve can’t just hold up Jack and Eddie. He needs them to hold him up too. They need to lean on each other.

Eddie’s face is buried in the top of Jack’s hair when they return. Both of them have their eyes closed. Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face at the sight. Seeing them together is easily one of his favorite things in life. He runs a soft hand through Eddie’s hair, earning the attention of his big brown eyes.

“Wanna get going?” He asks quietly.

Steve can see the corners of his smile.

“Wanna go home?” Eddie counters just as quietly.

Steve breathes out a chuckle.

“Yeah, Eds, let’s go home.”

They spend the rest of the day cuddled together on the couch watching whatever family movies they can find on. Steve orders a pizza for dinner and Jack doesn’t leave Eddie’s side. Her clinginess is acknowledged only by an exchange of sad, but knowing smiles between Steve and Eddie. They can't bring themselves to pry her away, both still just as shaken as she is by the previous night’s events.

After she falls asleep on top of Eddie on the couch, he carefully brings her to her room. Steve watches from the doorway, leaning with crossed arms, as Eddie tenderly tucks her in. They close the door quietly and fall back into the couch together. Steve curls into Eddie, who easily receives him with open arms. A joint sigh is let out when they're fully settled into each other.

“Would you tell me more about your mom?” Steve asks, barely above a whisper.

“My mom? Why?”

“I guess I like hearing about the parent that loved you. Especially after… everything,” he elaborates.

“Well, she was really smart. I mean really smart. She was set to go to a big fancy college across the country with a scholarship. I remember her tellin’ me about it to try to get me more into school, but it never really worked,” Eddie says, staring into the distance as he thinks.

“Why didn't she go?”

“Me,” Eddie rakes a hand through Steve’s hair, “She met my dad and got pregnant the summer before she was supposed to start.”

Steve nods the best he could given his position.

“My parents were practically arranged. I mean, it wasn't anything formal, but there was definitely an expectation of them. Their dads were business partners back in the day,” Steve shares.

“We really come from different sides of the tracks,” Eddie chuckles.

“I’d lay across those tracks just to reach you,” Steve hums.

“ Jesus , Stevie, you're gonna kill me if you don't quit being so poetic.”

Steve laughs lightly. They lay in silence for a moment. The warmth of each other comforts and soothes their muscles. Slowly, they shift until they’re laying entirely. Steve’s splayed out on top of Eddie, face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you wanna see what she looked like?” Eddie whispers suddenly.

Steve’s head perks up to look Eddie in the face. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are nervous.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Steve smiles.

Eddie shifts him off so he can go into his bedroom. Their bedroom, Steve is trying to get used to thinking of it that way. He returns a few moments later with a brown photo album. There's no writing on the cover, just a shiny gold trim. Eddie plops down next to Steve, close enough for their bodies to press against each other.

“Alright, only one rule: no making fun of my hair,” Eddie warns him.

Steve nods with a serious set of his eyebrows. It’s impossible not to see Jack in the gesture. Eddie shakes his head but smiles. He opens to the first glossy page of pictures. The scrapbook isn't too big. There are two 4x6 photos on each page. The first picture has a baby with a mess of dark hair and a wide gummy smile laying on a colorful blanket. Steve beams at the image. The next one has the same baby on his tummy, looking up at the camera with giant brown eyes.

The second page is where Steve sees her for the first time. She’s a delicate woman with round features like Eddie. Her frame is small and wiry in a way that reminds Steve of Joyce. She has dirty blond hair tucked back into a low-hanging ponytail and a bright smile that Steve would recognize anywhere. It’s the same wide toothy grin Eddie has, dimples and all. Her eyes are the same dark shade of brown as Eddie’s. Although he got the Munson nose and hair color, Eddie got everything else from his mother.

“She’s beautiful,” Steve comments honestly.

She is beautiful. She’s beautiful because Eddie is beautiful. Maybe it's the other way around, but for Steve Eddie comes first.

“Yeah, she was. I still don’t know what she saw in my dad.”

“How old was he when they met?” Steve can't help, but ask when his eyes travel to the next picture.

It wasn't clear how young Eddie’s mom looked until his dad was next to her. He isn't old in the image by any means, but he’s visibly older than her. He’s taller and wider, too. It’s like looking at a bird next to a wall.

“Twenty-five when they met, twenty-six by the time I was born,” Eddie answers.

The numbers put a pit in Steve’s stomach. If she was getting ready to go to college that means his mom was-

“She was seventeen when they met, eighteen by the time I was born. Bastard trapped her, if you ask me,” Eddie finishes Steve’s internal thoughts.

Steve flips through more pages of Eddie’s childhood. He was an extremely adorable baby. All chubby and soft looking with a face full of smiles. Then he’s an equally adorable toddler with more bumps and scrapes as he gets older. His mother is in a lot of the photos with him. Her eyes are always on him, and there's almost always a smile on her lips.

At around age three, Steve notices some new scars on Eddie’s mom's arms. They look like cigarette burns, but he can't be sure. He doesn't ask either. Instead, he comments on how much they look alike, especially as Eddie grew older. It’s a comment Eddie clearly appreciates. Steve gets stuck on an image of the two of them from when Eddie was about four. It’s a soft exchange that someone clearly caught candidly.

Eddie is sat in his mother’s lap on a cushy armchair. Her arms are circled loosely around him as he twists to stare up into her face. He wears a large-eyed smile, an expression that’s mirrored by his mother. Her dirty blond hair is loose around her shoulders, curling in a way similar to Eddie’s. Steve wishes desperately to know what happened to cause such soft loving expressions.

“I think this one’s my favorite,” Steve says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it feels like I’m seeing you guys how you were.”

Eddie nods thoughtfully.

“I dunno why it reminds me of Jack,” he says, studying the photo.

“You kinda look like her here,” Steve chuckles.

It’s true. If his hair went past his ears they’d pretty much be twins. Eddie supposes the resemblance shouldn't come as too much of a surprise. Although, even in the months of knowing Jack, Eddie has watched her grow a stronger resemblance to Steve.

“Is it dumb to wish my mom got to meet her?” He asks quietly, staring at the photo.

There's a deep ache in his chest that he hasn't felt before. It’s a hollow throb that reverberates in his bones.

“Not at all. I wish she did too.”

Eddie’s watery eyes meet Steve’s.

“I wish she got to meet you too. I wish she got to see the family that found me,” the wobbly words tumble out of Eddie’s quivering lips.

He hasn't thought about his mom so much in ages. In fact, he kept her out of his mind when thinking of Jack and Steve for this very reason. He knew how much it would hurt that the people he loves most will never get to meet. It’s like being run over by a truck of painful emotion. Steve pulls him into a crushing embrace. Eddie doesn't really cry, but a few loose tears roll down his cheeks. Steve catches them with his thumbs and wipes them away.

“We get to meet her in a way, through you. You carry her with you, y’know? It’s not the same but, we do know her, in a way,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles and crashes his lips into Steve’s. It's brief and wet but warms them both.

“I love you so fucking much, Stevie. I’ve never loved someone like this. You fucking terrify me in the best way possible,” he tells him earnestly.

“I love you so fucking much too, Eds. What d’you say we go to bed?”

“I’m not tired,” Eddie pouts.

“I didn't say we had to go to sleep.”

His pout transforms into a smirk. Then he’s dragging Steve to their bedroom, both of them giggling like mad.

<< Page Five | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Seven>>

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