#nancy needs to apologize

[tartarusknight]

The King of the Freaks | Pt 5

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Steve is trying not to panic. Honestly, what was he thinking! He was desperate, and they could all tell. He slammed his locker open and rubbed his face. "Steve?" Jonathan's voice was soft, and Steve jumped. "Is everything alright?" He questioned, and when Steve looked over, he noticed Nancy. She was over by her own locker, looking over at them. She most likely was the one who told Jonathan to come over and talk to him. It's not like Jonathan had any reason to talk to him. They weren't friends.

Steve nodded and cleared his throat, "Yeah. It's nothing important," he promised. And it wasn't even a lie. Jonathan nodded slowly, and Steve wanted out of this conversation. Sure, Jonathan was a good guy. But Steve still hurt from how everything unfolded. He didn't blame Nancy for moving on, and honestly, Jonathan and her should've been together for months, but... it still hurt.

"You know, it's okay to be jumpy after everything." Jonathan said softly, and Steve's smile was strained as the conversation kept going. "You know you can always talk to us." And it hurt a little, hearing that. Because once upon a time, it was the other way around. It was Steve reaching out with apologies at the ready. (Trust him. He knew he overstepped and was an asshole. He also knew if he didn't overstep, then Jonathan wouldn't have fought him, and that's what Steve wanted at the time. To mask the pain swirling in his chest with actual pain.)

But it wasn't him and Nancy, looking out for Jonathan anymore. It was Nancy and Jonathan... and Steve- well, it wasn't the same. Steve wasn't close to Jonathan, and Nancy made it clear how she felt. The invite was done out of pity and fucked up trauma Steve's never going to deal with.

Nancy didn't love him, and she sure as hell didn't care about him if she was able to break his heart so quickly and refuse to apologize for throwing it in his face like a grenade. So, he squared his shoulders. "It's not about that. I was an idiot again, you know, nothing new." He gave him a sharp grin and shut his locker.

Except then, Nancy's there, siding up next to Jonathan. "Come on, Steve, can't we still be friends?" And the words die in Steve's throat. He thought he did enough for her. He let her go without making her feel guilty. He never told her how much she hurt him.

But he also never thanked her for pushing him to realize what a piece of shit he was. Because Nancy was always right, Steve had to be bullshit. Everything he worked towards the last year was bullshit. And if that's all bullshit than the only thing he's good at is throwing himself in front of danger. He could be Billy's target, so he doesn't bother anyone else. He could take all the shit the kids throw at him. But he didn't think he could take Nancy yelling at him again. Her words sharpened over time.

He took a deep breath, but before he could force himself to say anything, someone bumped into him. It's just like a small nudge to get his attention. It's a kinder version of a slap on the back from a teammate. "Hey Steve," Grant smiled.

Something eased in him at Grant's presence. "Hey," he smiled and tried not to note the look of annoyance on Nancy's face.

"So, we were wondering what days you're busy," he asked, and Steve glanced at the couple one last time before letting Grant pull him away.

"See you guys, around." He waved and headed down the hallway with Gtant. "You don't have to make your schedule around me."

Grant laughed and bumped him again, "we want you there. I think Gareth and Eddie are betting which one of them can get you to make a character first."

Steve's brain halted and paused. He was so focused on Grant that he didn't notice Billy until someone slammed into his shoulder hard enough to send him to the ground. "Watch your step, princess." Billy grins at him and Steve huffs.

Tommy kicks his bag away from him before he can stand, and he sneers. "Really making friends with the freaks? You're so desperate," he mocks and slams Grant backward into the lockers. It makes Steve see red, and he quickly moves.

He stands up easily and doesn't reach for his bag. He just pushes Tommy back from Grant and stares down at him. Tommy's back hits the lockers, and Steve grins down at him, watching Tommy's face go red. "Anyone's better than you," he winks, and just like always, Tommy's tongue was tied. Steve knew things about Tommy, things that he never shared, things Steve kept to himself. And he wouldn't tell anyone, but he'd use it to his advantage to protect the others.

Billy shoved him off of Tommy, and Steve held up his hands in a surrender gesture. Billy looked him up and down before looking at Grant. "Protecting freaks now?"

Steve smirked, "Your sister's a freak?"

"Steve," Grant cut in, and Billy scoffed.

"Shut it, fatty!" He growled, and Steve punched him before he even meant to. A crowd was starting to form as Steve straightened up. Billy laughed and dread coursed through Steve. "You really want to try this again?" Billy spat and Steve swallowed. His face was still sore from the last time.

"Don't be a dick," he nodded at Grant and Billy raised an eyebrow.

He leaned closer, and Steve fought against the urge to flinch. "You really did fall from the top."

Steve put all his king Steve swagger in his body. "I'm not going to fight for a make-believe crown." He glanced back at Grant and hoped his eyes were convincing enough to get him to walk away. "Not when you get off on it." And Steve's slammed back onto the ground.

"Billy!" A teacher snapped, and everything stopped. Grant moved to help Steve up, but Steve wasn't in the mood. He pushed himself up and dusted himself off. He moved and grabbed his bag from the floor. Billy was glaring, but he walked off with Tommy and a few others.

He felt exhausted, and his head was starting to swim. "Uh, just come over whenever. Honestly, it's not a big deal, I'll warn you guys on days when I'm not free... Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have swimming until 6." He offered and rubbed a hand down his face. His face hurt from the pressure, but he used it to ground himself.

The bell rang, and he looked over at Grant. He smiled and tried not to look like the mess he was. "I'm gonna go," he pointed behind him as they parted ways. He waited until Grant was out of view before ducking out of the school. He headed to his car and quickly got in. He leaned his head against the wheel before he let out a big shuddering breath before pulling himself back together and backing out of the parking lot. He could deal with his failing grades tomorrow.

@zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137  @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo  @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills @prideandsensibility @iwouldsail @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @spectrum-spectre @the-chilly-kat @yearningagain @loopsmd @starlight-archer @sleepy-time @goodolefashionedloverboi  @crazyshipper67  @sherrylyn628  @bidisastersworld  @v3lnys  @n0connections  cherixxx69  theotalksalot  tailsfromthecrypt  ledleaf  grimmfitzz 

(I’m so sorry that’s all the tags I could do!!! If you didn’t make it I’m sorry!!!!)

[solarmorrigan]

Steddie and #12 on the prompt list pleaseeeee 😭

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I had fun writing this one!

Prompt from this list: 12. Things you said when you thought I was asleep

-

When Eddie wakes, he’s comfortable and warm. These are the second and third best qualities of Steve Harrington’s bed. The best quality of Steve Harrington’s bed, however, appears to be missing.

Eddie rolls over, checking the spot beside him, and finds that, yes, it’s definitely missing. Steve is not there.

If he listens, though, he can hear signs of life coming from downstairs, echoing through the quiet house. The rush of a sink running, the clatter of dishes, the soft murmur of a radio – sounds like Steve is making breakfast.

Eddie sighs and slithers reluctantly out from under the covers, hunting for his t-shirt on the floor, where he’d tossed it last night before getting into bed.

It’s not– it’s not like that, of course, between him and Steve. The shirt had gone, but the boxers and sweatpants had definitely stayed. They share the bed in an entirely platonic manner, just as a way to deal with nightmares and trauma and that sort of fun shit. But sleeping next to Steve is like sleeping with a furnace, and he’s said he doesn’t mind if Eddie loses his shirt; he doesn’t wear one himself half the time.

God, Eddie wishes this could be as gay as it sounds.

He’s not gonna knock what he does have, though. He’s not. Whatever his relationship is with Steve, it’s special, and Eddie’s not going to let his dick (or worse, his feelings) ruin it.

Quietly, he slips out of Steve’s room (the hinges on the door don’t creak. The floor barely creaks. Steve’s house is spooky as shit sometimes, silent and airless; Eddie gets why he doesn’t like being there alone) and heads down towards the kitchen.

Whatever’s playing on the radio becomes clearer as Eddie approaches, and he can hear Elton John singing about sitting on a roof and kicking off the moss. Even closer, Eddie can hear Steve singing along.

There’s already a smile forming on Eddie’s face when he gets to the door, and that’s before he’s treated to the sight of Steve standing in front of a waffle iron, bopping to the gentle beat of “Your Song.”

“Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean,” Steve murmurs, distracted as he cracks the waffle iron open and tilts his head to take a look inside, “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen…”

Eddie might melt a little bit. That’s his own business.

“Okay, no, this is pathetic,” Steve says, startling Eddie as he breaks from the lyrics. “I mean, this is really sad.”

For one heart-stopping moment, Eddie thinks Steve is speaking to him, but Steve never looks up, instead using a fork to pop the waffle out of the maker and add it to the nearby stack.

“I hate making waffles. Waffles are a pain in the ass,” Steve mutters, contradicting himself entirely by grabbing the bowl of batter and pouring more into the iron. “But Eddie likes waffles and now I’m up at too early in the goddamn morning making waffles.”

Eddie jolts again to hear his name, but Steve still hasn’t seen him in the doorway (or maybe skulking sort of at the edge of the doorway – not eavesdropping! Just… satiating his curiosity). He’s noticed Steve’s tendency to talk to himself when he thinks no one else is listening, but it’s usually just little reminders, or running commentary on what he’s doing.

This – this is interesting.

“Of course I’m making him waffles, what else am I going to do? Not make him waffles? Not let him in and not let him sleep in my bed and not… really like it? Stupid.” Whatever Steve says next is drowned out by the sound of the faucet as he fills the empty batter bowl with water and leaves it to soak, but when he shuts the water off Eddie manages to tune back in. “…because I’m an asshole who can’t just tell him that I think he’s smart and fun to be around and really hot and that I really like him. No, he’s gonna come downstairs and say good morning and I’m just gonna say– holy shit.”

Now Steve’s spotted Eddie.

They’re both frozen in place, and all Eddie can really think to do is give a little wave and say, “Good morning.”

Steve continues staring at him. “I… thought you were asleep. Still.”

“I am not,” Eddie says, and then immediately wishes he’d said literally almost anything else and avoided sounding like an idiot.

“I can see that,” Steve replies, slightly strangled.

There’s another frozen beat of silence.

“I think the waffle is burning,” Eddie says, glad for the momentary distraction as Steve swears and rushes to save their breakfast.

While Steve is wrestling with the waffles, Eddie decides that some kind of action is warranted. You don’t just hear the guy you’ve been crushing on admit that he thinks you’re smart and fun and hot every day.

Eddie enters the kitchen.

“Not burned,” Steve announces, flipping the waffle onto the plate, “just crispy.”

“Crispy is fine,” Eddie says, approaching the counter where Steve has been cooking. “Anything is fine. Waffles in general are great, I like… waffles.” Stop talking about waffles, holy shit. “I like you.”

That is not better.

In spite of the level of awkward Eddie is currently rocking, Steve turns to look up at him with a small smile ticking at the corners of his lips, uncertain hope behind his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Eddie nearly has him cornered against the counter now, close enough to reach out and touch. “Yeah.”

“More or less than waffles?” Steve asks.

“Tough call,” Eddie murmurs, raising a hand to rest on Steve’s shoulder, sliding it over to brush at the crook of his neck, the side of his throat, the edge of his jaw. “Lemme think.”

It’s at that point that Steve closes a fist in the front of Eddie’s shirt, drags him across the minute distance between them, and leans up to press his lips to Eddie’s.

After that, Eddie finds he can’t think about much of anything at all.

(He doesn’t have to, though. He’s pretty sure the way he leans heavily into Steve’s space, the way his hands curl around Steve’s hips and the way his mouth slides eagerly against Steve’s own lets him know where he ranks in relation to waffles.)

[formosusiniquis]

intrada (sugar plum holly and her cavalier)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington & Holly Wheeler; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler WC: 5708 | G | Tags/Themes: ballet, references to The Nutcracker, pre-relationship steddie, good babysitter Steve Harrington AO3

It was supposed to be a date that would merge their interests, something that had seemed classy enough for Nancy and athletic enough that Steve thought it would keep his interest. Supposed to be, in that when Steve had gotten the tickets -- begged his mom first for her and his dad’s season ticket seats and then for help finding a good seat when she said she wasn’t about to waste a sixty dollar ticket on a date -- he wasn’t even sure if it was the kind of thing Nancy would like. A year and a half into their relationship and he was only just realizing how surface level their conversations were, either talking about work or treating every conversation like an interview and parceling out information like they were afraid to reveal too much about themselves. So he was really working off of a jewelry box he vaguely remembered from her bedroom when he bought tickets for a ballet that wouldn’t even happen for another five months.

He wanted to have them when she got to Indianapolis, something to look forward to for their first Christmas together in the city. The Nutcracker, a classic supposedly but if anyone would know its cultural significance he figured it would be Nance.

And Steve isn’t an idiot, okay. He knows that Nancy isn’t exactly thrilled to be in Indianapolis, knows that she’s not happy to be at her safety school and not Emerson. Imagines having to wait to see if she made it up the waitlist all summer wasn’t the greatest experience; and he has to imagine because any time he wanted to talk to her about it she blew him off to focus on alternatives and next steps.

That’s why he does it. Hopes that having something to look forward to at the end of her first semester will help. Hopes that this is the first of many Christmases together, maybe a tradition that they can keep up. Going to the ballet together every year until eventually they’re bringing their daughter along with them. Maybe it’s too early to think about kids, but this is the kind of future he prefers to imagine over future careers and what he’s going to do with the degree he’s stumbling his way through. So he thinks about Nancy with pinned back curls in a nice dress humming along to songs they hear every year.

It was supposed to be that. Until it turns out that their relationship really couldn’t withstand being in the same city as one another. Until he’s forced to confront the hindsight that they never really talked about anything significant in the year they were doing long distance. Until Nancy tells him that she’s transferring next semester, and she isn’t interested in doing long distance; that she isn’t interested in continuing their relationship at all.

So Steve resigns himself to just being out the money for the two tickets. It’s not like he’s going to go to a ballet by himself, and it seems shitty to bring another girl to something that he imagined becoming a staple of his romantic future with Nancy. It’s not the first time Steve has cut his losses. (But he’ll die before he tells his mom she was right about not giving him her good seats.)

He honestly kind of forgets about the whole thing. Finals week has just ended. He’s pretty sure he flunked the one actual business course he took this semester to keep his dad happy, and he’s trying to figure out if he can change his major without screwing his whole life up. He’s ready to have a few weeks off. 

Then Karen Wheeler calls.

Karen is a nice lady, though if he’s honest he’s not that upset that she isn’t going to be his future mother-in-law. She’s a little… flighty, as his mother would say with a backhanded smile. He privately thinks she sometimes forgets that she has three kids, losing track of one or the other at any given time. So maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised when she calls him two months after her daughter broke his heart begging him to take Holly to the ballet.

“Nancy mentioned it off hand months ago, and Holly hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I know it’s a big ask,” she had said in a tone that made it very clear she didn’t entirely care and would think poorly of him if he answered the wrong way, “but if you still have those tickets it would mean the world if you could take Holly.” He hadn’t missed the emphasis on the you either. Clearly Karen had no interest in making the trip to Indianapolis and he hadn’t needed to ask about Ted.

He didn't think of himself as a pushover, but he did think of little, blonde, six year old Holly: too quiet and too shy for her age. Fighting to be seen by a negligent dad and a mom who loves her children, but cares about appearances just enough to be blind. And he finds himself saying, “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Wheeler, but could you meet me somewhere halfway?”

It’s not until they’re settled into their seats -- on the floor but in the back, a booth behind them occupied by a pretty boy in a headset that Steve refuses to look at for too long -- that he realizes that he has no idea what this show is even about. Holly has been quiet since he picked her up, the least surprising thing about this trip right above Mike glaring at him from the passenger seat of Karen’s car as he moved Holly’s booster seat, but she’s studiously flipping through the little booklet the usher handed them on their way to their seats.

“Thank you for bringing me, Steve. I’m sorry Nancy didn’t want to come.” It is somehow simultaneously the longest and worst thing Holly has ever said to him.

“I’d rather see it with you, Holly Jolly.”

He’s saved from having to find anything else to say by the lights around them dimming, a prerecorded voice letting them know that any photography is forbidden and to expect a fifteen minute intermission, a bright and bouncing song picks up once the talking stops. He relaxes in his seat a little, relieved to get a few minutes before he’s expected to entertain a six year old that he’s spent more time with today than he had the entire time he and Nancy had dated.

Now Steve, contrary to what he very much knows is the popular opinion, isn’t just a jock. He knows there’s no talking in ballet. He’s even been to one before this, when he was still a cute novelty in his suit and bowtie accompanying his parents to the theater. What he is, according to his old nanny, every teacher he’s ever had, and about half of his exes, is a selective listener. 

It’s not his fault though that his brain instinctively cues into different sounds. The buzz of the light above him louder -- and more interesting -- than a lesson on factorials. The sound of someone’s relationship imploding hard to tune out no matter how interested he is in his own conversation. So of course the sound of someone talking cuts straight through classical music.

“Someone remind David he needs to smile at his partner, he looks like he’s dreaming of a murder suicide.”

And it wasn’t hard to find exactly who the voice behind him was talking about. The only frowning face at this Victorian party who was glaring daggers at the magician who was bringing in new dancers.

“Well he should know better than to sleep around the cast shouldn’t he, Birdie?”

A practiced reader of body language, Steve could almost see, underneath the choreography, the traces of impropriety. David’s undisguised glare. The wistful way the woman in blue tracked him around the stage. The woman in pink who mooned at the woman in blue. It made him wonder what kind of things were going on backstage.

He expects that to be in. He doesn’t really do theater much, too many memories of pinched arms and snarling trips home, but he does remember the one rule is no talking. But it doesn’t stop, barely slows.

“If Mark sets himself on fire doing this stupid firepaper magic shit do we get to go home early?

“Sure, Robbie Bobby, I’ll swap out for the Rat King last show of the run. Jay can do my job and I’ll do his.

“Five bucks someone slips on the snow as they exit.”

He wants to know if that stranger wins the bet but the curtain closes and Holly is shy and asking Steve where the bathroom is. So instead of working up the nerve to turn and talk to the man behind him, he’s smiling his best mom-charming smile and asking the first woman with kids he finds to take his guest into the girl’s room.

By the time she’s out of line, and Steve buys her the doll and the novelty sucker she’d been pretending she wasn’t looking at, they slip back into their seats as the lights dim again. No chance to make his own witty jokes or observations, break the ice and show off some of the Harrington charm.

The first dance goes by with little fanfare and Steve’s almost disappointed. Holly is wiggling excitedly in her seat next to him, clutching her own little nutcracker, and he’s not even paying attention to the stupid show that’s got her so excited because he’s too focused on a snarky stranger he’d only even looked at once.

“Jeezus christ, is Tom stuffing his dance belt? That’s some Bowie level shit happening up there.”

He had almost given up, so it figures the guy decides to speak up once Steve’s attention started to shift back to the stage. He nearly chokes on his own tongue, eyes darting straight down to the issue in question. Holly, the sweetest kid he’s ever met, pats his back softly, hesitantly, like she’s only seen the gesture before. “There’s a water fountain by the bathroom,” she tells him in a library whisper, “I can stay here and not move.”

“I’m okay Hols,” he lies, ignoring the itchy, squeezing feeling at the back of his throat and forcing the cough away.

It’s easy to do when there's something else to focus on, “No, Lizzie, I’m not going to shut up. No one cares if I’m occupying the channel.” The stranger seems to be gearing himself up for a monologue, “I’m not going to miss my cue, I am the cue. Robin’s not going to miss her cue  because it’s to music. Her cue doesn’t exist without me and she knows all of these songs and what note her cue goes with because it’s the eighth fucking time we’ve done it this week. If you or props have something you’ve got to say clearly you can get a word in edgewise.”

A few numbers go by after that, quiet except for the occasional professional, “Light cue, go.”

And then a song he actually sort of recognizes starts. A pretty strawberry blonde with a dainty smile tip toes and spins across the stage to plucked strings. Holly is enchanted, perched at the edge of her seat she reaches a hand over to clutch at Steve’s sleeve. A ‘tell me someone in the world is experiencing this moment with me’ sort of gesture. Awestruck and world rocked, stars in her eyes. Any resentment, any hard feelings that might have still lingered at babysitting evaporated. He got to be the person that let Holly experience this. A moment just for her, no family to take second place for.

The dancer on stage spins, clearing the floor in a series of tight, controlled rotations. Her arms guiding each step, swinging out and pulling her in, the driving force of her momentum. She’s moving fast, it’s an impressive display. Something shoots off in the opposite direction of that controlled turn, almost distracting in its break from that clean motion.

“Tell Props Chris just lost an earring.

“Fine, tell Wardrobe then.

“I’m not being a creep, I know she’s your girlfriend, Birdie. I merely observed her earring launching across the stage like an arrow from an elven bow.”

It’s like catching half of an Abbott and Costello act, like who’s on first being done through a telephone. It’s a strange sort of connection, listening in on a conversation that isn’t meant for him. He thinks for a sad second that he hasn’t ever had a friendship like this.

The show is wrapping up, dancers from scenes past making their way through for quick appearances. Holly is vibrating in her seat. Dancers in intricate costumes glide across the stage to bow toward the petite dancer in the nightgown and the strawberry blonde, Chris, beside her. A few moments later it's finished, the lights rising up around them and he shifts his primary focus back to Holly. 

In the middle of the room, they had the best view of the stage and the longest wait to leave. Steve tries to be subtle as he shifts Holly in front of him, afraid of losing her if she's out of his eyeline. He doesn't want to baby her by making her hold his hand. She's wiggling in place, but she keeps herself small. Careful not to bump into the people slowly moving out of the aisle in front of them. 

“Hols,” he starts to whisper, not wanting to embarrass her before he asks if she needs to hit the bathroom again.

But she grabs his sleeve in a child's iron grip,  "Steve, I want to meet the princess."

It turns out, it's hard to find a way to tell an excited kid that there aren't meet and greets after a show like this. Pleading blue eyes and a nervous smile looking up at him, desperate but scared to ask for too much. The least he can do is try.

The guy behind them is still there. 

The back of their line, Steve isn't holding anyone up by taking a minute to look. He's lithe, all in black. Hair pulled up in a half-assed bun, a headset tangled in the curls. He's wrapping up a thick cord, Steve couldn't guess why, but it draws focus to a toned arm that he's curling it around.

“Hey man,” the booth is a little bit above them, forcing Steve to rise up on the tips of his own toes to make sure he's visible, “I know you're working but I wanted to ask. The girl at the end- I, uh, I overheard you say she's your friend's girlfriend is there anyway you could convince her to come meet us.”

The guy startled a bit, probably surprised at being addressed. If he’s embarrassed at being overheard it barely shows a soft flush that could be from the warmth of the room. "The girl at the end?”

"The princess,” Holly shouts, bouncing up and down to try to see over the lip that blocks her view of the booth.

A change falls over the guy, his smile softens and eyes widen. He carefully drapes himself across the board of buttons and sliders to look Holly in the eyes. "Oh she's even better than a princess, she's a fairy. The sugar plum fairy. Is this your first time seeing the show with your dad?”

“Steve's not my dad.” She tells him with a little giggle, no doubt comparing Steve and Ted in her brain.

“Holly is my ex-girlfriend’s little sister.” He places his emphasis carefully.

“There’s a lot happening in that sentence.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my Lady Holly, I bet I could convince Chrissy to meet a fan.” He promises with a flourish, “As long as your companion doesn't care that her faithful company will definitely be there the whole time.”

“Are you part of the group?” Steve asks, confident enough in his read of the situation to lay on a bit of charm. Letting his eyes trail down the sprawl of the guy's back. A thrill of victory at the little nod he gets back. “Then I won't mind at all.”

“Rockin’ Robin, tell me you still have your headset on?” He directs into his headset, “Great, remember that favor you and Chris owe me? I've got a fair princess who would like to meet our dear Sugar Plum Fairy.”

There's a lengthy pause. Even without the music playing the response is too quiet to be made out through his headset. “I don't see how that's relevant.” He hisses, “and she didn't ask to see an awful hag so you don't really even need to be there.”

His face clears after a second, looking to Steve like he wants them both to pretend that the earlier conversation hadn't been overheard. “Go through that door at the end of the front row right beside the stage.” The auditorium has cleared out enough he's got a clear view of the door the guy points to. “You'll end up in a hallway with a locked door at the end, wait there.”

“And if someone asks us why we're waiting there?” Steve asks, “I can tell them..?”

“Eddie, I'm- I Eddie Munson told you to wait there, if someone stops you before I get there.”

It's hard not to grin now that he has a name, Eddie, so he doesn’t bother. He puts on his best smile, the boyish and winsome one that always flusters whoever it's directed at, at least a little. Eddie is no exception looking back down at his work quickly. Steve takes a little pity, turning his attention back down to Holly.

She's twisting in place, hands clasped in front of her, as she stares off into space. He feels bad immediately, too familiar with what it's like to be a kid forced to entertain yourself while adults talk above your head.“C’mon, Holly Jolly, let's go wait for your fairy.” 

She takes his hand the second it's offered, swinging it back and forth, humming one of the songs from the show. “Steve, do you think she's a fairy like Tinkerbell or a fairy princess like Barbie?”

“I don't know Hols, what do you think?”

“Tinkerbell is kinda mean to Wendy, but she can do magic and fly. But Barbie is really nice so if she were a fairy she'd be a fairy princess and have a crown and help people.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes! And this fairy looked nice when she was dancing, but it didn't look like she had a crown. Can you be a fairy princess without a crown?”

Holly was buzzing, bouncing in place, clearly over whatever earlier nerves she'd had about talking to him. With her back to the door that they were told to wait by, she’s started listing all the different jobs Barbie has had and why they should make a fairy princess doll -- Karen’s homemade Barbie clothes, he learns, are not as well made as the hand me downs from Erica and Mrs. Sinclair, so she needs the real thing. Holly misses the way the door creaks open, the woman from onstage inching her way out of the half opened exit. 

Chrissy presses a finger to her lips, happy to help her surprise Holly, Steve keeps listening to her talk about why there should be a Barbie movie. He only nearly ruins the surprise when the dancer pushes down on the front of her saucer like skirt and it smacks her in the back as it flies up, letting her exit the back room.

Focused on her story, Holly doesn’t notice as the woman crouches down beside her. Not until she says, “This must be the princess I was told about.”

The screech she lets out is so joyful he almost doesn’t mind that his ears are ringing. Steve finds his smile mirrored on a freckle-faced girl dressed in the same all black as Eddie who is sliding out the door now as well. She sidles up to Steve, letting Holly have her moment with the fairy uninterrupted. “And you must be the prince charming.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Eddie pants, coming to a bent over rest beside Steve, “whatever she’s saying ignore it. Fuck.”

“You jogged like twenty feet,” the girl says, clearly unimpressed.

“Sorry Nancy Reagan, I say yes every time.”

“There are children present, have some class, Munson.”

The child in question could be on another planet, that’s how much she’s aware of their existence, Steve thinks.

“I have class every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Saturdays are fair game.”

“Oh! That’s why you look so familiar,” the girl says, she’s looking at Steve now but he’s not really sure why. “We were in the same Communications and Public Speaking class, Prince Charming. Steve, right?”

He did have that class last semester, the only one technically tied to the business major his dad wanted him to have that he actually passed. “I, yes- sorry I don’t. I spent most of that class zoned out waiting for my turn to speak.”

“No, yeah, I figured. You sat a row in front of me and always looked shocked when you got called on, then you’d brush your bagel crumbs all over the floor when you’d go to speak.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not really sure what to say to that especially not when it’s being said right in front of a guy he was kind of into.

“Birdie holds the strangest grudges in the history of the world, take it as a sign of respect, Big Boy. She hated me for half of our music theory class because my handwriting didn’t look like it matched my general demeanor.”

“No, I hated you because you always smell like weed and never do the homework but somehow are still the professor’s favorite. And I still hate you for all of those things, but your unfortunate personality grew like mold on my girl- I mean grew on,” her face takes on a look of panic as she pivots her word choice. It’s confusing, at first, until he realizes he’s the source of panic. A familiar joke made with a friend, forgetting the new, possibly untrustworthy stranger until too late.

The siren song of new friends and a possible date is alluring, but with Holly in the room he does have to be careful of what gets back to her parents. He remembers Ted’s political alignments and gossip tends to reach his parents faster than he can. So he does his best at assurance, “Chrissy, right, she seems cool. It was nice of you guys to do this, Holly is probably only a little bit more into fairies than I am.”

Eddie sputters beside him, hard to tell if it’s a good sign or if Steve has just royally fucked up his chances at anything; but if it means easing Robin’s fears of queerbashing he’ll ruin his chance for a date every time.

“Into fairies,” Robin asks, nodding over to Chrissy, who’s showing Holly how she balances on the tips of her toes, “or…”

“I’m light in my loafers, or half, light in one-”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie supplies.

“Right.”

“Worst way anyone has ever described being bisexual,” Robin says. 

“Sounds like a challenge,” Eddie says.

“It was not.”

“I really appreciate this,” Steve says again to avoid the argument. Chrissy is helping Holly spin around on the toes of her patent leather mary janes, she’s giggling as Chrissy holds her pointed finger helping her twirl and twirl. “How’d you all get involved in all this? You’re still in school.”

“They always need a little help around the holidays, normally the theater kids get first dibs but there’s only like five tech kids and they’re all working the school show so the music department gets next go.” Robin explains.

“Chis is a prodigy so she put in a word for us specifically,” Eddie adds. Before he leers and leans deep into Steve’s space, it’s not an unwelcome move. “Unless that was you fishing for friends, Big Boy. Trying to figure out if you’ll see us on campus?”

“Oh,” Robin exclaims, like the thought had never occurred to her. “Are you finished with your gen eds? Wait, what's your major? Eddie, show off your party trick.”

He isn’t a total loser, so he doesn’t fidget or blush as Eddie runs his heady brown eyes up and down the length of him, taking him in. “Business and Marketing,” he declares after a second, but he doesn’t sound sold on it.

“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Steve isn’t sure if he’s admitting Eddie’s right or just trying out what it sounds like to admit that he’s sick of being everything he’s supposed to be instead of what he likes. “I took Children’s Psychology for the whatever requirement and it was a million times more interesting than Intro to Econ.”

It feels like it’s going well. When Nancy broke things off Steve had resigned himself to finishing out college without any real friends, dating around and hoping for something that stuck. Here with these people, he can feel something starting. He wants to take that feeling and capitalize on it, follow through on something so another good thing doesn’t slip away from him.

That’s not the kind of luck that he has though. 

“Steve,” Holly buzzes, grabbing his hand with no hesitation, “Fairy Chrissy said that I can be a dancer too! Can Santa bring me shoes like hers?”

Christmas is a week away, if Stever were guessing, he’d say the Wheelers have had Holly’s presents picked out and put away for most of the month. “I don’t know, Hols, Christmas is pretty close and the North Pole is pretty far. Do you think the mailman would have time to get all the way up there?”

Her shoulders slump, making Steve immediately feel like the worst person in the universe for crushing her dreams. “He's watching though, so I bet he saw you ask right now,” he does his best to smile, hoping it's comforting since it feels tight-lipped and desperate.

“Yeah!” She brightens, starts to hum along to the song just a little off pitch, getting more excited as she goes until she's murmuring, “Knows if you've been bad or good.”

“Hey Holly Jolly, why don't you tell Fairy Chrissy bye and thank you. We don't wanna be late to meet your mom.”

She's still singing but she nods, turning and shuffling back to Chrissy, still a few steps away.

“Would she know where to get those, Chrissy, the shoes that Holly would need?” He asks Eddie and Robin in a whisper, hoping Holly is distracted enough by her goodbyes that she won't hear.

“Are you..?” Eddie asks, a blush staining the tops of his exposed ears. “Ex-girlfriend?” 

The emphasis catches his attention and, yeah, he can see how that looks. ���Her parents aren't going to drive up to the city before Christmas, but the town over does lessons.” Barriers to entry, that's what his marketing classes called it, maybe he did learn something. He wants to make it as easy as possible for Holly to get what she wants. “She's a good kid, she should get what she wants for Christmas.”

That blush spreads, bleeding down from his ears across his cheeks. “You're a good dude.”

“Steve, I said bye. Do we have to leave now?” Holly asks.

“Let me say bye too, Hols, and we'll grab a treat before we meet your Mom.”

There's a pen tucked behind Robin's ear that he snags before he can second guess what he's about to do. Grabbing her arm first, he scrawls his number across it. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates if you ever want someplace to hangout or to study,” he tells her. 

He grabs Eddie's hand next, rubbing his thumb along the palm and slowly writing the same number on his arm too. Keeping a hold of his hand for as long as he can. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates, if you ever want to come by and do something, have dinner?” He'll start there, let his interest be noted, and hope that Eddie is the type to like guys who dive in head first heedless of the water below. 

Steve can already imagine a future where he's sneaking into the booth with Eddie. Watching shows he's never heard of before with a warm commentary murmured into his ear. Gossip and behind the scenes rumor, distracting him from a plot that's less important than the company. Maybe next year, after double dates and a growing closeness, he'll be able to sneak Holly backstage and she can meet other dancers too.

Maybe next year, he'll be convincing Eddie, and the girls he hopes will be his new friends, to drive down to Hawkins with him to watch Holly do jumps and spins of her own in their small town showcase. Eddie was good with Holly, Steve hopes it isn't a fluke, he's always wanted kids.

He's probably getting ahead of himself. Falling into the same trap he'd built with Nancy that had gotten him here in the first place. The romantic in him wants to spin this all as fate, it could be true after all. 

Steve takes Holly's hand, they both wave goodbye, and leave the empty arts center. The winter sky is lit up by a full moon, fat snowflakes slowly float down to the ground beside them as they head back to his car, and for the first time since Nancy broke up with him he feels good about the future.

It's a long drive back to the McDonalds where he's meeting Karen, with Holly already dozing in the back seat, it's time that he can sit and be happy. Regardless of whether there's a message blinking on his machine to welcome him back home or not; what was supposed to be a relationship compromise ended up being the most fun he's had in weeks. So maybe Chrissy will tell him where to get Holly's shoes, maybe Robin will invite him for coffee or swing by to compare classes, and -- if he's really lucky -- maybe Eddie will invite himself over for dinner.

But, as he hums along to the waltz whose melody lingers in the back of his mind, the possibilities are something to look forward to.

[fastcardotmp3]

I know there are plenty of Steddie aus where they get together pre-s4 in one way or another, but are there any where Eddie still dies?

Because like. Steve grieving in a way and to a degree he never has before; steve showing up on Nancy's doorstep with an apology on his tongue because I didn't get it before I get it now I get it now you can't ever go back to normal Nance I get it now; Steve facing a mortality other than his own because he was supposed to be the tank, the thing at the front lines that took the hits even if it meant going down but no one else was.

Steve who wonders why this had to be the time he fails, who hates himself for thinking that when he'd never give anyone else's life in place of Eddie's except maybe his own.

Steve down for the count while they try to regroup and only a spare few people understand why, Steve who comes out to his mother on accident just by merely cracking when she wraps him in a hug after he tries to explain that he lost a friend in the earthquakes, he lost a friend Mom I lost him, I should have-- I couldn't-- I can't--

Just.

Steve who adopted himself into this world, chose to stay despite not being all that connected to any of them after he and Nancy break up; he felt for Nancy when she lost Barb and he felt for El when she lost Hopper but he never got it like he gets it now.

To lose your person.

It's enough to make a warrior out of a boy or a self-imploding missile out of a lover.

It's up to Steve which one he becomes.

[florallylly]

sometimes the happy ending is that they don't end up together

[jonathanbyersphd]

Steve to Nancy: You gave me the biggest thump of my life

Jonathan: *literally punched Steve which jump started his character growth*

[emily-mooon]

A Collection of Images of (almost) all the times the ST characters are on the phone (or walkie talkie) PART 1

I scoured Google for some of these images as I want it to be easier for people to find since there are so many times in this show where they are on the phone (or walkie talkie). These are some of the perfect pfps to share with your mutuals as then it looks like you are all talking on the phone (or walkie talkie) with each other. Feel free to add more (do so once looking at all the images and all the ones on part two once it’s out so you know which one to go hunting for).

This is all the images I can fit on this post. I will link part two once it’s finished. A respective tag will be made and put in the search bar of my blog for easy access. Also if you do use one of these images as a pfp, you have no need to credit me since I didn’t really do a whole lot with them besides maybe cropping to make them more square.

[withacapitalp]

this got so long i'm sorry lol. that post about jonathan hurting steve just reminds me of my number one issue w steve and jonathan/nancy becoming closer which is that the onus is almost always placed on steve to make amends and take that first step w/little to no emphasis on that effort being reciprocated. like, steve apologizes to jonathan for everything in s1 (as he should) and saves his life twice. whether or not you think jonathan should apologize for how intense the fight got is up for debate (i would just like acknowledgement of how seriously he did/almost did hurt steve) but steve def deserves an apology for 1)the photos (which he never got - obv he broke the camera but then he also bought jonathan a new one all w no actual apology to steve on jonathan's part, it wasn't only nancy's privacy he invaded) 2) the fact that he slept w nancy knowing she and steve were still together (which he literally verbally acknowledges when nancy says she waited for him or w/e). that second one obv also goes for nancy bc she also doesn't apologize to steve for leading him on for a year while having feelings for someone else then cheating on him. this isn't me saying jancy are terrible ppl and entirely unsympathetic (nancy is obv v traumatized and struggling w barb's death tho this does not excuse the way she treated steve) but they both did some fucked up shit to steve that ppl rarely make them acknowledge or even feel bad for, which creates a v unbalanced dynamic imo.

Oh boy this did get long!!

So this might just be curating different fandom experiences, but I don't personally see a ton of Steve being the one who has to make amends in fandom or Jonathan and Nancy not having introspection on their pasts. In canon I totally see that though, and it's a lot. Like I think they're all just really human, which I love. They fuck up, and they mistrust, and they have to learn and grow into being close. It isn't automatic.

I think like.......here's my thought process. Apologies are nice. Apologies are good. The right thing to do is always to apologize if you feel like you've wronged someone.

But I also think Steve wouldn't accept it.

Okay I'm putting the rest under a read more because I'm going on a little meta rant on Steve Jonathan Nancy and why apologies are a complicated thing for them and ultimately not what any of them really need.

First Steve because he's my blorbo. Steve is a really interesting character. He has this veneer of extreme self confidence that hides a really soft core of a person that ultimately experiences a significant amount of rejection. He has this brittle exterior that's bitchy and snarky and gives as good as it gets, but things touch him in a deeper way that I think is easy for a lot of people to ignore. I could totally see Jonathan awkwardly trying to bring things up to maybe try and apologize only for Steve to be like nah man we're fine! It didn't work out no biggie, I'm aok, you guys work together and we didn't.

Steve is constantly searching for validation and love (Implied because his parents are neglectful or at the very least have an extremely bad marriage that would be enough to add layers to anything) I think that the bullshit conversation really impacted Steve in a significant way, but if he shared that, then he's leaving himself vulnerable to getting hurt again, so he would do everything in his power to truly make everyone think he's okay, even potentially making himself think he's okay too, when deep down he isn't.

I alsoooo don't really think that Nancy or Jonathan necessarily feel bad. If Steve is pushing so hard to say he isn't hurt, then eventually I could see them not thinking too hard on it. Jonathan because in canon they aren't really friends obviously (Which is a goddamn travesty by the way I wrote an entire series of fics because I hated that they weren't friends) and Nancy because Nancy is an extremely self focused person.

Not selfish. I think it's important to make the distinction between selfish and self-focused. I don't think she's intentionally doing things to hurt the people around her for her own gain, but she thinks about how things effect her and how things impact her first and foremost. Not even just with Steve, but with everyone. A good example of this is in season three when she cost Jonathan his job too with her sleuthing. Her boyfriend who is in a very bad financial situation at home and could have really used a job that actually pertained to his interests and might have lead to future relationships in his industry. She didn't feel bad about that, she was too focused on the injustice to her. Even something as simple as never knocking when he's in the dark room and ruining his pictures over and over.

She just doesn't think about other people, which makes sense! She's a teenager, she's a privileged person, and she's smart as all hell. She gets extremely focused on doing the 'right' thing (according to her rules and her mind because she knows she's smart and thinks she's the smartest in the room always) and she misses doing the best thing a lot of the time.

For Steve, someone who is clearly extremely not self focused-which is also not a great way to be because extremes never are- and Jonathan- Someone who has been forced to put his family first his entire life- that is always going to be a point of conflict in her relationships with them.

But I don't know if we've ever seen Nancy give a genuine apology in the show, and I honestly doubt we ever would. It's not in her character really. But! Regardless of all of that, apology isn't really the end goal. Saying your sorry shouldn't be the end of something. I would much rather see Nancy Steve and Jonathan grow into people with more empathy and ability to own up to their shit/call people out on their stuff in the future rather than rehashing their past again. Unfortunately I have a feeling season five is gonna be a lot of rehashing lmaoooo

[sweetronancer]

st3 jancy pisses me off so fucking much.

in s3ep5 nancy shouldnt have been apologizing, imo, jonathan shouldve been apologizing grrrr

st3 nancy is so <333 and i love her. jancy is okay but its literally nothing compared to ronance lmao

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - The Best Welcome Party

Chapter 14/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 11,681

Summary: With Eddie conscious for the first time since "the earthquake," a lot has to happen. Notably, he needs to be questioned by the Hawkins Police. But, of course, there may just be a little bit to check on before they deal with that responsibility...

More ST Fics

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

At Steve’s house, everyone was still milling around after he and Lucas left. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair still had a lot of stuff they needed to wrap their head around, and Nancy and Robin were feeling a little stir-crazy in the busy house, so they got an idea. They could run back to their houses, take showers, get changed, and then take off to ask the drama and band directors for their statements on Eddie.

Which would both get them out of the stressful atmosphere of Steve’s living room and give them something to do. And having something to do about how hopeless everything felt seemed to be the only way to get through it.

So, the two of them stuck around just long enough to make Hop sit down with them and agree to be a source. And to grab a couple of quotes so it’d sound like his words, and if anyone bugged him about it he knew what to say. A little bit here about “All kids find their own outlets for rebellion, I’ve pulled over almost every student who’s gone through that high school at least once since I’ve been here.” A line to specify “But Eddie Munson’s never been a very big thorn in my side. Can’t see him having done all this without a good motive. Which nobody’s been able to find.” And then they just rounded it out with a note about circumstantial evidence and there not being enough of anything to make sense to pin it on him. All according to a guy who used to be the city's chief of police.

Then they were able to drive off for their next steps, Nancy obviously the one behind the wheel and dropping Robin off before she went back to her place.

When Nancy got back to her house her dad was, thankfully, back at work. So it was just Holly and Amber sitting around a plastic tea set in the living room while Amber���s mom watched the news. She was able to head right on upstairs without much fuss.

But, while it didn’t take long for Nancy to take care of her own business, Robin had a bit more of a headache to deal with.

Her mom was again not happy she ran off, but it was easier to settle her down when Robin had her call Steve’s house and a parent answered. Joyce had confirmed that there had been chaperones there all night, and there were a whole bunch of them over, not just Steve and Robin alone. As if that would’ve meant anything anyway. But one phone call later and she was able to slip away and clean up so she could get to her plans with Nancy.

When she climbed out of the shower, however, she was interrupted by her mother calling for her.

“Robin!”

The girl was squeezing a towel around the ends of her hair to pull the water out - she hadn’t washed her hair, but the ends got damp anyway - and she yelled back,“ Uh, yeah?”

“You’ve got a call!”

Robin considered trying to run to the wall phone half-dressed or letting her mom try to stall with small talk as she pulled on her jeans. She decided she didn’t really like either option,“ Just tell Nancy I’ll be ready for pickup whenever she gets here!”

“It’s not a Nancy!” Theresa said from the kitchen as Robin reached for her shirt,“ It’s a Vickie!”

And all at once, she felt her heart jump to her throat. She threw on the shirt, haphazardly yelling,“ I’ll be right there!”

Once she got the article over her head, she yanked it down and barreled out of the bathroom. Quickly stealing the phone from her mother’s hands and turning the corner away to be further away from her mother’s listening ears.

“Heeyyy…” She started. But, no way, that sounded so awkward. She coughed and tried again,” I mean, hey. Hey, Vickie. How are- How are you?”

“Hi, hi, and hi to you too, Robin,” she said with a light fluttery giggle that made Robin’s heart seize again,” I’m good. And you are?”

“Good! I am good also.”

Robin was failing at this, right? She was failing at their first phone call. She was all jumpy, and too excited, and not saying words in the right order, and she had to sound so ridiculous-

But she pushed through it anyway. Digging her nails into her palm to try and keep herself from getting all high-pitched from the nerves, she said,” So, uh, how’d you… track me down?”

“Looked you up in the phone book. There aren’t any other Buckleys in town, you know.” Vickie said it like it was obvious.

Because it kind of was. It was how Robin would’ve found Vickie’s number if she had felt so bold. Maybe if she and Steve had been able to find an hour alone, he would’ve built her up to it. But receiving the phone call felt pretty great too.

“Yeah, yeah.” Robin confirmed the very normal behavior,” So, did you need anything or- or what had you calling little ol’ me today?”

“I, um, sorta thought we could hang out? It was fun spending time with you at the high school the other day, and I’d like to do it some more. Unless you didn’t think it was fun and, instead, I’m just the kind of girl who’s nice for company when there’s literally no one else to talk to, and in that case, I’ll just hang up, and we don’t have to talk about this-”

“No!” Robin leaped in to correct Vickie’s unfounded concern,“ No, no, no, I do not think that. I would like to hang out. With you. Too. I had fun on Saturday too. So, yeah, I’d really like to make some plans to spend time together again.”

And there was Vickie’s cute little fluttery giggle again,“ Cool. Um, I know things are still sort of crazy in town, but my parents would give me the keys to the car if you wanted to come up with an errand to run or something, and we could get some lunch after?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’d love to- like to do that-”

Calm down, Robin, don’t freak her out.

And, just as Robin was taming her excitement, she remembered she was already expecting a girl to come by,” Oh, yeah... I kind of had plans to help Nance with something…”

Vickie got a little quieter,“ Oh, well, we can raincheck if you want to-”

“No! I, um… actually, if you wanted to help, we were going to talk to Mr. Thompson.”

“The band director?” the girl asked.

“Well, him and Ms. Reynolds. We wanted to get, like, a statement on Eddie’s character from them. See if they had anything nice to say for an article about how he didn’t do it.”

“Oh,” Vickie said it like she was trying to understand the idea. And that made sense. She wasn’t on the inside team, so she didn’t know everything they did. Didn’t know Eddie that well. She’s just been knee-deep in rumors the whole time.

So Robin supplied,“ Which, by the way, he didn’t. It’s a long story, but we were with him pretty much the whole time, and it was actually Jason! Not Eddie, and-”

“Jason? Jason Carver?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s a long story, and I can tell you some more about it later, but Eddie really is innocent. I swear. Thing is, even when he wakes up and can explain everything to get the police to drop the charges, a lot of people probably won’t believe it. They’ll say stuff about how he got away with it and make his life a living... nightmare," she barely caught herself from saying 'hell'. A mistake she usually didn't have much trouble avoiding, but she was just so focused on Vickie that she almost missed it," Anyway, Nancy wanted to write something for the school paper to help show people he’s a good guy.

“And he is? A good guy, I mean.” Vickie still asked, though she was beginning to sound like she believed it.

“Yeah. He is.” Robin asserted,” And, since we’re both in band, if you wanted to come, we could probably divide and conquer faster. We can check with Mr. Thompson, and she can go to Ms. Reynolds. So that could be our errand and then get some lunch after.”

“Then, yeah, I’d love to help. You sure Nancy will be okay with me just kinda hijacking you at the last minute?”

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’ll just let her know what’s going on, and we can all meet up after to share notes.”

“Sounds good. You want to get together now, or do you want me to head over later?”

“Now’s fine. I just got done getting ready to head out with her anyway, so I am all good to go. I can give you the address-”

“It’s in the yellow pages right below the phone number.”

Robin nodded to herself,“ Yes, of course, it is, duh. Then I will see you in a few.”

“See you then, Robin.”

“Bye, Vickie.”

Robin bit into her bottom lip under her wide grin as she hung up the phone. It took everything in her to not stomp around her feet to get all the joyous energy out. Her cheeks were probably bright pink, and her hair had to be a mess, and she’d have to be sneaky to throw on some mascara and her favorite rings before she got out the door if she wanted to look even a little put together.

But it was Vickie. It was Vickie inviting her out for the day. It almost actually sounded like a date. And Robin dared to consider that Vickie’s voice and tone seemed like she knew how it sounded...

Which was insane. She still never thought the chance was real. Even after they volunteered together, and Steve tried so hard to hype her up, she was half-convinced that nothing would come of it besides his false hope. But it was real. And now she had something to work for.

And it was still scary.

But she tried to focus on what Steve told her between all his insisting that Vickie really liked her.

“Be yourself, and all that junk.”

Robin’s own advice thrown back at her. So Robin was just going to have to try to focus on being herself. And all that junk.

Worst-case scenario, she’ll at least be able to tease Steve about the fact that his idea was ridiculous and didn’t work. Which felt like a security blanket, honestly. At the end of the day, if the whole thing went horribly, she'd still find some way to laugh about it with her best friend...

“What was it?” her mother asked from around the corner where she had been reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee that they both knew was mostly creamer.

Robin poked her head over to look at her and attempted to settle herself to answer casually,“ Oh! Vickie’s just gonna help me and Nance with something! We’re going to head out in a bit and ask the band teacher a few questions.”

“The band teacher? Mr. Thompson?” Theresa asked folding and setting down the paper on the kitchen table as she leaned back in the chair.

But even Robin could tell her mother must have done everything she could to eavesdrop. Probably sat so still that the chair didn’t squeak, didn’t drink from her mug so she could listen, and held the paper in loose fingers so it didn’t crinkle the whole time... So she already knew all about what she was asking about. Why they needed to play around it, Robin never understood, but they did. It’s what they did. If they didn’t - if Robin tried to skip the unnecessary explanation - it would turn into a conversation about her manners.

So, instead, Robin confirmed,“ Yeah, Mr. Thompson,” and waited for the next question.

“What do you girls need him for?”

“Well, Eddie was in the school band for a few years. Didn’t do pep band or anything, but Mr. Thompson should still know him.” she clarified,” So we wanted to see if he had anything nice to say about him for an article on Eddie’s innocence. Make sure he doesn’t get mounted on a stake in the town square the minute the police unlock his cuffs.”

Her mother nodded along and took another sip of her coffee,“ Alright. Make sure you’re home tonight or tell me ahead of time if something changes. Before it gets dark out so I know I don’t need to worry.”

“I will, Mom.”

Her mother began to pick back up her newspaper and held out an open hand. The signal Robin always returned by blowing a kiss that she’d pretend to snap her hand around and pat into her chest. Which was another comfort. That was also their thing. Besides any tenseness or misunderstandings, once things settled Robin’s mother would always silently ask for a kiss. And Robin would always send one her way.

And just as Robin was bounding back to the bathroom to brush out her hair and try to doll herself up, at least a little bit, the doorbell rang.

“Wow, Vickie must’ve been pretty close,” Theresa commented from her newspaper.

But when Robin opened the door, it wasn’t Vickie on her front doorstep, but Nancy.

Nancy lit up when she was met with the other girl, a light bounce on her feet that had her curls spring on her shoulders,“ Ready to go?”

“Oh, Nance….” Robin said as she realized she didn’t even have time to try and call ahead to let her know about the change in plans.

“Yes?” Nancy’s eyes brows quirked, and her smile went a little nervous,” Should I be hurt by that reaction?”

“No! Um, I just got a call from Vickie,” she began to explain.

Though, just that on its own didn’t mean much to Nancy.

“Vickie?”

“Yeah! She wanted to help out with the teachers.”

“She did?” Nancy asked.

She found that a little hard to believe, considering the two of them only just got the idea the night before themselves. How did Vickie Nelson hear about it, and why does she care all that much? Clearing Eddie’s name was their business. Not hers.

But Robin just simply smiled back,“ Yeah! So I thought it’d be faster if we split up! She and I could scope out the band director - since he already knows us so well - and you can take care of Ms. Reynolds with no problem. And then we can share the info later and see how useful any of it might be.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

Nancy wasn’t trying to seem sour about it. She wasn’t trying to guilt trip her or make a big deal out of it. Robin had seemed all cheery about the idea, Nancy didn’t want to rain on her parade. So she pulled herself together and snapped out of whatever funk she slipped into a moment ago.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Just- here, take the questions we drew up last night. I’ll write myself a new copy, and we can get together later,” Nancy tore out a sheet of paper from her notebook and handed it over.

“Yeah, I’ll just be one walkie-away if anything comes up!” Robin nodded, accepting it with her easy-going grin still splayed across her face.

“Well, have fun,” Nancy wished her well as she began to turn back to her car.

“Thanks. You too!” Robin threw over her shoulder as she closed the door and was gone.

Okay. That stung.

The whole interaction stung.

Which was weird. Shouldn’t have really stung that much. Nancy and Robin were just new friends. Robin had other friends. It was fine. Maybe Nancy was just kind of put off since they made plans together, and now Robin was dropping them off for someone else. Yeah, anyone would be annoyed by that.

Yeah.

But either way, Nancy packed herself back into her car and breathed for a minute. Got her new notes jotted down. Then she saw Vickie park across the street. The other girl stepped out of the car. Looked around and sort of shook out her arms. Like she was nervous or something. But then she set her eyes on Robin’s front door and walked forward with a kind of determination Nancy supposed she’s worn when she was chasing a good story. Vickie made it up the steps and rang the doorbell, turned around, and shook out her arms again when she locked eyes with Nancy.

She froze. Her eyes were wide, her arms hanging off her a little awkwardly as she just stared back at Nancy in her station wagon. Like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

Nancy pulled her expression into a tightlipped smile. Something simple and polite but not exactly totally friendly. She was still a little annoyed about getting dumped- more like bailed on. Yeah, bailed on. But she gave a little wave anyway, and Vickie unfroze to wave back, wearing her own nervous smile.

And then the door opened, and Vickie spun around without hesitation. So Nancy started the car and drove off before she got a good look at Robin in her doorway again.

She had work to get to.

Robin and Vickie would climb into the Nelson’s hatchback and find Mr. Thompson, while Nancy picked up Jonathan to go with her for Ms. Reynolds.

The pair of girls took off for their director’s house and found themselves gigging a lot to the radio. Their music taste didn’t perfectly match up, but there was some notable overlap that they found entertaining for the drive. Vickie complimented Robin's jewelry, she did end up having just enough time to slip some on along with a coat of mascara before her doorbell rang again. Robin absolutely blushed and complimented Vickie. Said she liked the pale teal spirals she wore before, but the dangling green diamonds were great too.

When the drive was done, and they'd actually arrived to talk to Mr. Thompson, he had good things to say. Which was a real relief to Robin.

Turned out Eddie’s not only been in band since middle school, but he’d even stay after school for extra lessons when he was picking up guitar. Mr. Thompson had liked the kid. He was the kind of music student that every teacher wants to teach. The kind that loved it and had a knack for the ability. From piano to guitar, Eddie loved music with an intensity that most people never did. Loved it through his first senior year. He ended up not coming back in ‘84, even though he was still at the high school. Thompson had tried reaching out, but Eddie seemed different when he did.

Just said he had too much on his plate - his own band and trying to make money to help his uncle - and walked away.

Mr. Thompson let it go. He had other students to worry about.

But Eddie Munson, that was a good kid who loved music, even if he liked to find ways to play that weren’t entirely classical or conventional. Mr. Thompson remarked about some combative behavior sometimes. But it was more usually aimed at the other students when Eddie felt like they weren’t trying at all or didn’t care, less so at the director himself. At the end of the day, Mr. Thompson wondered what had happened to him when he stopped seeing Eddie loiter in the band hall, but he was never very sold on the idea that he had turned into a killer after less than two short years since they last spoke.

And the statements helped Vickie see Eddie as the good guy who was thrown into a bad situation that Robin knew he was.

The other pair were having a less fun time. Nancy was still wound up, and she wasn’t really sure why. Which only pissed her off more. Jonathan had something to say but didn’t want to spring it on her while she was in a bad mood. Not that it was the kind of news that should be used to ruin a good mood either…

Jonathan was in trouble. Really, really in trouble. He couldn't procrastinate for a few months again, but it was so much harder to say something when he was actually sitting next to her.

It was a quiet drive on their end.

Then they met with the teacher. Who also had pretty good stuff to say about Eddie. Turns out drama teachers usually couldn’t care less about “conventional”. Ms. Reynolds said she was always partial to more experimental fine arts anyway. And Eddie was loud and passionate in classes, that’s the sort of stuff that thrived in drama departments and drove creativity. He had presence and theatrics and was always paling around with Jeff in the back of her classroom. It was also apparently Eddie that had roped Gareth into helping out with set construction for the musical they just put on. And Josie was in the orchestra pit while Bruce helped with lights. Seemed all of Corroded Coffin had come together in her department at one point or another.

Which is how it had been so easy to convince her to sign off on letting them use the drama room for their Hellfire meetings anyway.

Their little crew was still a little divisive with some of the other drama kids. Their dark clothes and leather and metal set them apart. But Ms. Reynolds always liked them. Always appreciated the way they were willing to do whatever to help. And Eddie was the core, or leader, of that.

She had a few good things to say about the kid. He was weird, but unapologetically himself. And she was happy to go on the record that, as wild as he was, she believed that he didn’t do it.

All in all, Robin and Nancy’s mission could be considered a success.

Even if they didn’t do it together.

Now, Eddie himself was in a state of confusion.

He was still sort of reeling from the fact that Steve had been there at all. Steve Harrington had been there. Sat in the chair at his hospital bedside wearing stupid, boring jeans and a dusty, red sweatshirt like it was the most casual thing. The chair didn’t even look very comfortable. But Steve sat in it, more than once he sat there for a few hours and- that’s so weird.

Eddie wasn’t making it up, right?

He wasn’t going crazy from demobat rabies, right?

Steve had been there.

Right?

It was… it was just so weird.

Freaky, one could even say.

Yeah, they’d gotten mixed up in the same problem recently. But to come back for him, to sit at his bedside while he lay unconscious… It wasn't “right.” Didn’t make sense in the world Eddie Munson came from, even if he was starting to accept that place was long gone.

Steve… Steve Harrington was an enigma. For all four of Eddie’s years that they shared at high school together,

Steve Harrington was an enigma.

Even in Steve’s freshman year, he was the talk of the town. Good looking kid, with passable grades that were more easily accepted when everyone saw how he did in competitive sports. He was doing it all. Basketball, Baseball, Swim Team. And on top of that, his folks had crazy money and this big house he could sometimes swing parties at. He was adopted into the top dogs faster than anyone had ever seen.

In his sophomore year, he found his footing. Started to know exactly how he was fitting into things and how to take charge even though he was still an underclassman to most. Started to solidify the group of kids he hung out with along the upper crust. Started getting swarmed by girls. A whole slew of rumors were buzzing around after that about all the babes he was shmoozing between classes.

Though, his junior year might've been the height of it. He seemed like he was soaring in those days. Just basking in the awesomeness of everything in his life going right for him. And then he bagged little miss perfect. And then something happened to him before winter break. And he fell out with most of his old buddies. Focused a little harder on his classes. Fell into place wherever Nancy was.

And then his senior year was like watching him get snuffed out. All at once, he’d lost pretty much everything, except for his girlfriend. And then more shit happened just before winter break… and Steve Harrington didn’t even have that anymore. So he coasted by until he was out. Just sort of kept his head down and managed his social standing without some of the… previous assholery he was a part of. Even if Eddie didn’t believe it at the time. Kept trying to be a big man on campus, but most of his moves fell flat until he quietly graduated. And that was that.

And then… next time Eddie saw Steve up close, he was pushing him against the wall of his dealer's boat house. Trying to come to terms with all the truly insane stuff Henderson was telling him, Steve just nodded along. Then Eddie was fighting for his life alongside him, a fight he was pretty sure he’d lost. But he didn't. And Steve stuck around.

Freaky.

And that’s coming from “The Freak.”

But Eddie didn’t have much longer to dwell on it, because a slightly timid voice spoke from his doorway,“ Eddie…”

And looking over to see - instead of a nurse - one of his own little Hellions, his mouth open up into a wide smile instantly,“ Lucas! How’d you get here so fast? Harrington just left.”

Lucas took his bright expression as a sign to come on further in, so he took steps forward as he made his way to the chair Steve had previously occupied,“ I was just across the hall. I’ve been spending time with Max whenever I can.”

“Ahhhh…” Eddie nodded sagely, as if he wasn’t still playing catch up on what exactly those two had going on,” So, what’re you doing over here on my side then?”

“Wanted to see you up,” Lucas answered simply as he took his seat.

“Wish I could give you a show. I’d do a flip for you if it weren’t for these beauties.” Eddie teased with a jingle of his cuffs against the bed rail.

And then Lucas’s face went something sadder as he carefully asked,“ … so you’re really okay?"

Eddie shrugged, hoping it’d ease the kid a little. He looked kind of nervous for some reason,“ Yeah, man. I guess. I’m a little tender all over, but I’ll be fine. Not planning to abandon you kids any time soon. You’d all make a mess of my club if I didn’t finish up business myself before graduation.”

Eddie ended his line with a light chuckle, but Lucas didn’t respond. He looked a little gone, like his mind was elsewhere. And maybe Eddie should’ve assumed he was thinking about Max next door, but for some reason, he just had this nagging feeling that it was something else.

“Hey, you alright, Sinclair?” he wondered, letting his tone dip a little softer than he usually used it.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s nothing.” Lucas tried to shake his expression off, but Eddie saw it. And then it clicked.

Oh.

Hellfire.

One of the last things Eddie did before his whole world changed, was exclude Lucas from Hellfire. And things have been so unbelievably crazy the entire time since that day that… he completely forgot.

Shit.

He was a bad friend on Friday, and he hasn’t said anything to Lucas about it.

“I’m sorry, Lucas.”

And Lucas flinched back into himself. So surprised by the out of nowhere apology he had to sit up and try to joke,“ For being in a coma? I know you didn’t do it on purpose-”

“No. For Hellfire,” Eddie corrected,” I’m sorry you weren’t at the last game.”

“Oh,” Lucas seemed to be struggling to figure out what to do with the words that he just moved to brush them away,” I… it’s fine. I was busy at the championship-“

Eddie stopped him from acting like it wasn’t a big deal,“ Lucas. Would you just let me apologize to you?”

And Lucas was tense and quiet for a minute. But eventually, he let out a breath and sat back deeper into the chair,“ Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie started it seriously. Let the words sit on their own for a second before he tried to explain himself.

“It feels silly now to think about how worked up I was on Friday. Okay? Like, there are way bigger things than me just wanting stuff to go the way I planned. And… at the end of the day, I wanted you to be there. I know you’ve been juggling Hellfire with basketball, and we usually made it work, but then Hawkins unexpectedly qualified for the big tournament, or whatever, and… I don’t know. I got pissed. I've always hated the basketball guys. Felt like you were different from them- and you are, for the record. You’re different than them in all the best ways. But I got disappointed when I thought about you being with the cool crowd instead of the freaks. Made me feel like you were rejecting us, or leaving us behind for popularity…”

Lucas was shaking his head,“ That’s not-“

“I know,” Eddie told him anyway,” I know that’s not something you’d do, Sinclair. I was just making myself mad when I could’ve been going about it another way. I’ve got a few faults, and quick to anger is one of ‘em. It was cool and all meeting the littler Sinclair - don’t get me wrong - but I do wish you’d been with us for the end of the campaign. And most of the reason you couldn’t be was my fault because I was being stubborn. So I’m sorry. Really.”

And Lucas looked so much lighter in that chair after Eddie was done. Like some secret fear he’d been harboring since Friday that Eddie hated him was just run off. He even looked a little misty-eyed as he brought back his smile.

“I forgive you,” he said, though after a moment. It took him a bit to realize Eddie was waiting for it.

And then Eddie smiled back at him,“ Thanks. Was it a good game at least?”

Well. That astounded the boy.

“You want to hear about my game? You? Eddie Munson? A basketball game?”

Eddie tossed his head side to side like he was mulling it over,“ Well, maybe skip all the boring sporty bits and just tell me the highlights. Final score and stuff. But yeah, tell me about it.”

“Well, um,” Lucas shifted a little closer as he tried to remember how it all happened now that it felt like forever ago,” We’d been kinda neck-in-neck with the last team all night, the Falcons. They’d score, we’d score, we’d score some more, they’d even it right out. It was back and forth the whole game. And then Adam got knocked down… so they pulled me off the bench.”

“Wait a minute, you're saying you actually made it on the floor?” Eddie noticed, which made Lucas light up a little brighter. Now more confident that Eddie was actually interested in listening to him talk about his game.

“Yeah.”

“Ain’t that the first time that’s happened all year?”

He let out a soft chuckle,“ Yeah. It was.”

“You’re kidding…” Eddie leaned back and shook his head, remembering all the times his freshman would complain to each other at the lunch table about Lucas not getting to do anything worth watching.

“Well, if you’re impressed by that, how do you feel about hearing that I made the buzzer beater that won the whole thing?” he tempted.

And then Eddie’s attention shot back up to him,“ What?”

“We were down by one point, just the one, and there were ten seconds left on the clock. Jason tried to make the shot, but the ball hit the rim and bounced off. And I was the one who caught it. I just- It was just in my hands, and I dove out of the huddle, and… there wasn’t any time to think about it. So I took the shot. And it spun around the rim, jumped back out, and hit the backboard, but then it sunk. We won. We beat ‘em, 70 to 69.”

“That’s… that’s incredible, Lucas.” Eddie sounded dumbfounded. He really wasn’t a sporty guy, but even he could picture it. He wasn’t dumbfounded out of confusion, he was just that amazed.

Lucas got a little bashful,“ It was just-“

“No. No, that’s really cool, man,” and then the realization hit,” And we stole your sister so she couldn’t cheer you on…”

“Yeah… I was a little mad about that,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry about that too. You shoulda had someone there.”

“I wasn’t alone. The team practically paraded me around. And Steve was there in the audience. Robin was with the band. Even Nancy was there for the school paper. They cheered pretty loud when it happened.”

He sighed a little wistfully,“ I wish I saw it too.”

And, well, Lucas knew Eddie was trying to make up for everything, but that had to have been an outright lie.

“You hate basketball.”

“Yeah, I do. But I like you, kid. You’re one of my little freaks, and it would have been nice to see you do something that cool. Watch the whole school cheer you on even though you’re a nerd like the rest of us in Hellfire.”

And that…

‘You’re one of my little freaks’

It did a lot for Lucas. He’d honestly been a little scared the whole time that the game would be the final straw. The thing that set him away from Hellfire completely. Until the club became something only Dustin and Mike got to be a part of. But Eddie still thought Lucas was one of his.

He wasn’t getting thrown away.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he finally said when he didn’t think his voice was going to crack.

“Thank you for letting me in on a little of it. Even though I was a dick on Friday.”

The boy tried to walk that back,“ I wouldn’t say-”

“You can say it. One-time free pass since I’m admitting my shortcomings and humbling myself right now.”

And so, through a warm laugh, Lucas agreed,“ Okay, yeah, you were kind of a dick.”

“Thank you,” Eddie laughed a little with him,“ Now, tell me something about this plan Harrington mentioned. Wanna make sure I’ll be able to play my part well.”

Lucas ran over the bare bones with him. Just spent enough time on it that Eddie would know what to say, and then he called a nurse in. Eddie played like he was a little loopy for a few minutes to pass as him off as having just woken up. She checked his vitals and then called in a doctor who told that same nurse to get on the phone with the police department and Eddie’s uncle.

That was when they kicked Lucas out and sent him back across the hall. To make sure the cops wouldn’t have any arguments about the honesty of his interrogation. They really underestimated this Party, if only they knew.

By the end of it, people were on the way and Eddie was getting worn out. Turned out it was hard work waking up from a coma and socializing. He’d fallen back asleep before anyone new arrived at the hospital, but the next time he woke up someone had arrived.

It was Wayne. His wrinkled uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne, who just looked so exhausted with his eyebrows pinching together, carefully watching Eddie’s hand held within his. Wet eyes that didn't move or blink as he waited to see his boy come back to him.

So Eddie squeezed it and groaned out,“ Hey, old man.”

And the familiar sound of Wayne’s worn and lovingly gruff chuckle was like the sun after such a god-awful week. He took back one of his own hands to wipe under his eyes for a moment before putting it back and smiling at him,” There he is. The man of the hour.”

“Here I am.” Eddie smiled back at Wayne from under sleepy eyes.

His uncle squeezed his hand tighter,“ I got real scared there. Thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

“Aw, Wayne, you know you can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m still your problem just like I’ve always been.”

“No, never been a problem,” he corrected.

“Now, I know you’re getting too sappy and lying to me. I am nothing if not a headache.”

Wayne cracked a deeper smile and leaned in closer to brush his hand gently over Eddie’s dark curtain of hair.

“I’ll take the headache, kid.” He told him as he rested his thumb on his nephew’s cheek.

Which was such a Wayne thing to do and say. He was a man’s man. Working with his hands and watching westerns on his days off. That's the kind of classic man he was. They didn’t get all mushy on one another very often. It was an unspoken but entirely understood thing, that they loved each other.

But that line was such a Wayne way to say it.

And then Wayne mentioned,“ You know, you didn’t didn’t get to tell me how the story went.”

“The story?” Eddie wondered for a moment.

“The one you were finishin’ up on Friday. With the big twist surprise you were settin’ up for those kiddos.”

“Oh.”

Because, of course, Wayne would bring up his DnD campaign.

Eddie told him about every single one.

He never bothered with giving him stats or explaining the different dice rolls and how that all worked, but he would practice the story with him. He’d share the bits he’d assume Hellfire would work through during that week’s session while he got all his notes prepared, and - usually the next day Wayne was able - they’d sit down over breakfast, and he’d tell his uncle all about how the party actually played through it.

Wayne loved it. It was like listening to his own private movie told by his nephew. He’d get version one with how it was supposed to work, and then he’d get version two with all meandering and funny jabs from the characters and how they came around the problem. And Eddie would always light up while he talked about it.

But he never got to see Eddie after Friday night, after what was supposed to be the big finale.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked again.

And maybe it would’ve been wise of Eddie to spend the time with his uncle telling him what sort of week he’s just had. Answering all the questions and explaining how serious he was when he talked about monsters this time. But, strangely, it seemed so much more important to talk about the session.

“Well, those rugrats… they really pulled out all the stops.” Eddie told him, shifting around as he continued,” You see, Lucas has this big game come up suddenly. He couldn’t be there. And it would have meant they couldn’t play through the end of the campaign that night. So Dustin and Mike were running all over school trying to find someone to sub in for him. And then they showed up at Hellfire with Lucas’s kid sister! I’m not kidding! This little middle schooler named Erica struts in. And I’m looking at her, thinking there’s no way she’s hardcore enough. She’s practically a baby- and she probably doesn’t even know how DnD works- and she’s all pretty ‘n pink- so there’s just no way! She doesn’t have the metal for it, end of story. I was sure of it. But she busts in any way with this little monologue about just how hardcore she is… And it honestly blew me away a little. So we initiate her as an unofficial member and then we all sat down to start the game…”

And they just talked. Talked and talked about the game. Every second of it made Wayne feel a hundred times better. The longer Eddie spoke about one of his greatest passions, the more Wayne could be sure he wasn’t going to crumble to pieces in his hands.

After that was when Eddie knew he had to tell him about all the shit he’s been through. He couldn’t even imagine not telling his Wayne how crazy it really was. Not explaining why he came home Saturday morning to a body in their trailer. Not explaining why he so absolutely couldn’t go back to his uncle to ask for help. Not explaining that he climbed into hell and almost died in there for a chance at ending some great evil.

That just wasn’t something he could keep from him. Wayne would know he was bottling something up. He was always good at making him talk.

So he talked.

When they got through it all, Wayne just huffed and told him,“ You really did scare me, you know? I wasn’t sure if I’d get a call to identify a body, or if you’d just run away from everything here and I’d never know any better-”

“Sorry…”

“No. Don’t you say you're sorry. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’re going to make sure they know that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes,“ I don’t think they’ll just take your word for it.”

And then, from the door came the phrase,“ It’s not just his word.”

And it was Dustin Henderson, his mother standing right behind him.

“Henderson,” Eddie’s relief swelled to see the kid alright, then he added,“ And Mrs. Henderson.”

Officer Callahan had been hot on their heels showing up behind them as he started saying something about them not being allowed to see Eddie until they questioned him, how they had been instructed to go wait in Max’s room with the others. So the others were there too. But the two of them walked in anyway, completely ignoring the officer. Claudia took Eddie’s free hand, similarly to how she had Steve’s just the other morning.

And Eddie was just shocked that someone who was effectively a stranger was looking at him with kind eyes. He hadn’t expected to get that kind of treatment.

“My Dusty-bun tells me you stuck with him through the… earthquake. Made sure he was okay, and stayed safe even though the goddamn world was falling to pieces. Is that true?” she asked him, already very sure of the answer but wanting to hear him say it himself.

And something was flickering in the way she said it. ‘The… earthquake.’ So she knew it wasn’t really an earthquake. Which - as he thought about it - he remembered hearing Steve mutter about some parents finding out.

So Eddie gripped the bedrail and pushed himself to sit up in his bed, trying to be just a little awestruck, and answered.

“Yes ma’am,” like how Wayne always wanted him to say to adults. He usually bucked against the whole respecting your elders and authority figures thing, but for Dustin’s mother, he’d make an exception.

Her sweet smile pressed further into her plush cheeks, and she reached up to gently pat his hair with her hand, so very similar to how Wayne had,” Thank you. I will never be able to thank you enough for helping watch out for my baby-”

“Mom-” the kid groaned as if he could possibly still be surprised by the way his mother coddled him.

“So if you ever need anything, you can always reach out to us. Don’t even bother asking first, just take what you need.”

“That’s…”

Ridiculous. It was ridiculous to receive an offer like that from some little suburban mom. Even if she shared Dustin’s DNA and contributed to the weirdness of the little guy, she was still… just some mom. Not his.

But she pressed on,“ You saved me from my greatest fear. So whatever you need. And all of us are going to make sure everyone knows what really happened, as much as we can-”

“Okay,” Callahan tried to step in,” You can’t talk about the investigation before we’ve been able to question him-”

But then Ms. Henderson raised her finger to silence him while she turned back to Eddie,“ Do you feel up for their questions, honey?”

And that stunned him a second time. To watch Claudia Henderson shut up a policeman with a single finger and wait for Eddie’s cue before she was going to let anything happen. It was just stunning.

“Uh- yeah. Yeah, sure,” he croaked out when words came back to him.

“Alright,” she looked back at the man in blue,” Then ask him your questions so you can uncuff him and leave the poor boy alone.”

Callahan was readying to tell her about how that’s not exactly how it works,“ Ma’am-”

When Powell entered the room and interrupted him with a warning tone,“ Callahan.”

“They-” he began sputtering and motioning his hands at the pair who weren’t supposed to be in the room.

But before he could really argue, the Chief spoke to the mother,“ Ms. Henderson, you know you were supposed to go across the hall-”

“Well, we got over here just fine.” she innocently shrugged.

Chief Powell looked back at the officer with a disappointed glare as Callahan attempted to excuse himself,“ I tried-”

But Ms. Henderson was absolutely not allowing the two of them to waste time on it,“ Are you going to question him and get it over with?”

“Yes. Okay? If we could have everyone clear the room now? He’s not a minor; he can do this on his own.”

And then Claudia Henderson had the gall to look back at Eddie and wait for his blessing. Again. Like she was really willing to put her foot down and argue some more with the cops. Which- okay- maybe that was pretty badass. Way more than he was expecting from some prim and proper suburban mom. So Eddie gave her the nod she was looking for, and she placed her hands around Dustin’s shoulders to steer him into the other room.

Wayne gave his hand another tight squeeze and said,” You just holler and I’ll knock that door down, you hear?”

“I’ll be fine. Get outta here already,” Eddie squeezed his hand back.

Then Wayne let him go, and it was the first time he wasn’t being held since he arrived. His palm felt a little cold now. But he was okay. He was going to be okay.

Wayne left the room and followed the rest into the Max’s. They hadn’t all arrived yet. So far it was Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, Erica, Mike, and now Dustin. They are also accompanied by Karen, The Sinclairs, Susan, and now Claudia and Wayne.

Hop and Joyce were on their way with Will, El, and Argyle. Murray said he’d stay behind “strategizing”. And Vickie was supposed to be dropping Robin off any minute. Apparently, they had just sat down to eat an early lunch together when Steve reached out to everyone. Which had been news to him. So he’d been waiting with a very specific kind of impatience ever since. If he didn’t get to squeeze every ounce of information about her first date - because he was absolutely calling this a date - by the end of the night, he was going to go crazy.

In the meantime, everyone mingled the best they could. Wayne thanked Claudia for her ferocity for his boy, she thanked him for raising such a good one. Mike was on the walkie asking for updates on how close the Hopper-Byers car was to the hospital every few minutes, going on and on about how excited he was for El and Will to meet Eddie. Nancy seemed tense but told everyone they had used the morning to make some progress in cleaning things up. And Dustin was talking to Lucas and Erica about how Eddie looked before he and his mother were kicked out.

The questioning went well.

At least, it felt like it did.

Eddie didn’t really have anything to compare it to, seeing as he’d always kept himself out of too much trouble before. But it seemed like it wasn’t awful. There wasn’t any yelling, and while they asked him to be more specific or clarify what he was saying, they hadn't argued against his claims. So maybe Steve was right when he said they were leaning his way. And maybe Robin and Nancy would be able to turn it all around for him somehow.

But he reminded himself not to get carried away and hope for too much while Chief Powell finished up.

“We’ve taken your statement, and will be going over it with the evidence and the other testimonies we have collected. We don’t have an answer for you now, but we’ll be back tomorrow with the final decision on how the Hawkins Police Department will be proceeding with the charges.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, the cuffs stay on. And the visitors can come back in, but we’ll be posting an officer to keep an eye on you-”

And that was when the door swung open. Seemed like the people around there really didn’t care about following the rules. Chief Powell’s face twitched as he braced himself to tear into whoever just barged in when he found himself looking at a dead man.

“Chief…?”

It was the only word that came to him after referring to the man by the title for so many years. He looked different now, but he was still so unmistakably Jim Hopper.

He stepped into the room and motioned,“ From what I hear, that’s your job now, Cal.”

“You… you’re… how are you…” he sputtered, Callahan next to him just standing in silent shock with a hand over his mouth.

“Long story. One I don’t really want to go over. How about we call it a kidnapping and move on?”

“Kidnapping?” Powell asked,” But you- eight months, Chie- Hop… Hop, it’s been eight months since… you ‘died’ in the mall fire. Did they all lie about you being there, or-”

“No, I was there. Don’t try to take away my Hero of Hawkins medal now. It was the dying part that just didn’t stick.” Hopper corrected.

Then Callahan found his voice,“ But what’re you…?”

Hop shrugged and looked at Eddie for a second, which was weird because they’d never really spoken, but now the guy was on his side, technically,“ Was listening by the door and thought I could ask about possibly forgoing some of that procedure.”

“What?”

“Look, the kid’s clearly been through hell enough already, Cal-”

“Hop…” Powell shook his head,” This case is already messy enough as is. Everything needs to be by the book from this point on-”

“Come on. Call it calling in a favor?” he tried.

Which pulled a small smile to the other’s face because it was just so much like him to ask,“ You have no favors to call in.”

“You’re right, I never stocked any up. But… what about it anyway?”

“Look… as soon as the choice has been made, you’ll know. We aren’t dragging our feet on this, but we can’t be caught making mistakes. I’ll assume you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I’ve seen the-”

“Then you know, this has to be done right. There are too many eyes on it, and too much has gone off the rails already.” He emphasized. Then he spared a glance back at Eddie, and the kid did seem kind of pathetic.

“But we can loosen the cuffs a notch. Looks like Daniels put ‘em on a little tight.” He gave, stepping up to unlock them and clicking them back in place more comfortably.

Hop came in close behind him to ask,“ Who’ll be assigned the babysitting duty?”

“I was going to give it to Nichols,” Powell answered.

“Okay…” Jim considered,” Yeah, Nichols is good…”

“Alright then. Go on and invite everyone else in and tell them the protocol. We have work to do back at the station.”

“Calvin?” he asked as the officers headed for the door.

“Jim?”

“Thank you.” He said,” Nichols is…”

“Nichols is good. I know. He’s good at his job and not an ass like some of them, so he shouldn’t make this next day of waiting too difficult on him.” Which was a phrase that made Eddie feel a whole lot better about the guy,” And even if you don’t want to explain where the hell you’ve been the last two-thirds of the year, least you could do is bring a cup of coffee by my new office and tell me what the hell you’re doing now.”

“Yeah. Least I could do.” Jim agreed.

Then Powell nodded and left. Just like that, Eddie had officially done all he could to clear up the mess, and then it was out of his hands. It felt weird, to be on the other side of the fear. He had been dreading it the entire time since he saw Chrissy die right in front of him. “How do I get out of this?” played over and over in his head whenever the world was too quiet. And now he faced it. And he just has to lie there and wait until there’s news.

But before he could stew in it any longer, there were all his kids - plus a few new faces - packed in the door of his room. The adults excused themselves, some heading off to pick up some food from the diner in town for everyone to eat for lunch while the rest just headed on home themselves. Each of them decided to let the youngsters reunite on their own for a little bit.

As soon as Eddie saw Michael Wheeler coming in, he broke out an excited,“ Hey! It’s Little Wheeler! Where have you been all week? Didn’t you hear we were all hanging out?”

Mike, who was just a moment ago beaming to see his DM awake, let his expression instantly drop at the nickname.

“Little Wheeler?” he questioned.

Eddie explained,“ Well, yeah, I can’t call you and your sister both ‘Wheeler’ after all.”

Mike argued,“ I should be the original ‘Wheeler’!”

“I’m not calling Nance ‘Big Wheeler’, dude.” Eddie rolled his eyes,“ Plus she’s cool. Way too cool to not be the standalone ‘Wheeler’. You know?”

Nancy was wearing a pretty smug look when Mike turned on her,“ You stole my DM.”

“What?”

“You stole my DM!” he repeated,” I leave for one week, and suddenly I’m ‘Little Wheeler’?”

She shrugged her shoulders at her brother,“ That’s not my fault. Stop being ‘Little Wheeler’ material.”

“I’m the taller one!”

Eddie reached out his hand to try and get in between them,“ Wheelers, Wheelers, you're both pretty. No need to fight for the affections of my heart-”

But Mike wasn’t even listening,“ Give it back!”

“Give it back?” she quoted back to him.

“Give it back!”

“I’m not ‘giving it back’, Mike. It’s a nickname. Earn a better one if you’re going to be so worked up about it. How about we give ‘Little Shit’ a try?” she offered.

They kept bickering between themselves as someone new stepped in a little closer to Eddie’s bedside.

He recognized her from the empty space in his head they’d met a few days ago, but he still didn’t really know her yet.

And then she looked at him with bashful eyes and began speaking,“ I like your hair. It’s… pretty.”

Eddie’s hair reminded her of her own before she woke up in that bed at the NINA project to see they'd cut it all off. She really liked having long hair. It was something that she was able to look at the mirror and say “It’s been so long since I was trapped there that now my hair goes past my shoulders.” She can’t say that anymore.

Because they caught her again.

And maybe she walked right into it but… she liked her long hair.

Missed it now.

And Eddie said, with a flourish,“ Why thank you, m’lady. Not exactly the style of flattery I usually aim for, but I am more than happy to accept it regardless.”

That’s right. Mike had said that Eddie was pretty “metal.” So maybe there was another word that fit him better.

“It’s also really… bitchin’.”

And Eddie just lit up. His eyes and smile widened at the soft-spoken girl,“ Oh my god, you’re my favorite now. Please, come closer, you little angel!”

He beckoned her with his hand as much as he could while still being restrained, and El’s own smile grew with her giggle as she stepped up to his bedside with more confidence. Her brother was just behind her, and Eddie had been about to greet him when two of the kids he already knew well enough yelled at him.

“Hey!” Mike and Dustin protested in unison. Both of them were clearly mad about the fact that he just called El his favorite, and he didn’t even know her name yet.

“Hey yourselves!” Eddie shot back,” This cutie saved my life and just gave me the greatest compliment I’ve ever received!”

“But that’s- That’s not-” Dustin sputtered before turning to one of the other older boys in the room,” STEVE!”

“What do you want me to do about it? I can’t magically make you his favorite again-“

To which Mike took offense,“ Hey!”

“Please, Mike, do you really think you were Eddie’s favorite?” Dustin asked him with that same tone Steve kept saying he’d do something about, yet hasn't,” It was obviously me. And it’s obviously going to be me again, once I retake my throne from this thief!”

El scrunched her eyebrows together at him,“ I did not steal it.”

“Yes, you did! With magic powers and sweet words!”

Eddie chimed in,“ Don’t forget the cute face.”

“And your cute face!” he added with an accusatory finger, though it just made El laugh again.

Lucas shrugged and sided,“ I’m on El’s team. You can’t not like her. I tried. Didn’t get very far.”

She gave him a courteous nod,” Thank you.”

However, Mike seethed “Traitor!” in the other boy's direction.

“So, El’s the name of the darling I owe my life to?” Eddie asked her, ignoring the boy’s play fighting.

“Yes. Short for Eleven.” She answered.

“Eleven?”

“There’s a lot we didn’t have time to explain fully the first time around,” Steve told him.

“I wasn’t even here when Eddie’s life went to shit! I think that means I get bonus points.” Mike got louder as he tried to argue.

Lucas was the one to disagree,“ That doesn’t make any sense. None of us screwed him over.”

“If anything, you weren’t even here to try and help him out of it. I think that means we deserve bonus points.” Dustin added.

“They are so immature.” Erica rolled her eyes and said to Steve.

“I know they are.” he agreed,” At least you behave when you aren’t too busy blackmailing us-”

“Eddie! You’re really awake!” Robin rushed in, finally arriving with the rest of them.

“Last one in, Robin?” Eddie asked.

“I was…” She spared a glance at Steve, who was already looking at her pretty intently, before she put her focus back on the one in the bed,” looking into something. For you!”

Erica leaned in closer to Steve and whispered while Robin rambled about her meeting with Mr. Thompson,“ It is not blackmailing when I am just insisting on the return of the goods and services that were pledged to me-”

“It’s a little blackmail-y, or like, at least blackmail-adjacent the way you do it,” Steve whispered back.

“And yet, I didn’t even need to apply the pressure for five minutes before you broke. Seems like you just knew I was right.”

Steve deadpanned at her,“ Okay, I take it back. You don’t behave. No one in The Party behaves.”

“Oh, that’s the truth.” Robin hastily agreed when she caught the back half of what he said.

“Oh, so this is The Party?” Eddie asked with a motion to the room.

Mike pipped up,“ Yeah. We’re The Party.”

Nancy gave a light shove to his head,“ It’s what they’ve been calling themselves since the day Dustin moved into town. And once we all got mixed up in everything together, we all kind of adopted it.”

"We're still the originals, though," Mike mentioned with a motion between the four boys.

“So that’s what the little angel meant. Not celebrating.” Eddie figured, finally connecting the dots. But should he really have expected the person he confused with God to be using fantasy terms that way? Can’t blame the guy for assuming she’d meant it by the normie definition.

“No, she was not referring to an actual party.” Will joked beside her.

“Good, because I was going to be pissed if you were all just having fun while I was dying.” He huffed.

Steve stepped forward,“ You weren’t dying-”

“Oh no, he absolutely was.” Robin interrupted him,” You heard El, she had to keep him together enough to even make it to the hospital-”

“What?”

And there was Wayne at the door, along with the other parents all holding to-go bags of food for everyone. Thus started the third - and hopefully last - explanation of what was actually going on. They couldn’t really pretend like everything was normal since Eddie had already told Wayne most of what happened to him. So they just explained it further. Went over the bits that Eddie didn’t know anything about or didn’t understand fully. They had the discussion over burgers and fries, and vending machine sodas and candies. Which made all the information go down a little bit easier.

Eddie learned why a child would be named Eleven.

Wayne learned that his boy’s innocence rests on the integrity of a mountain of lies.

Which was really scary to think about.

So they tried not to.

They all started getting to know one another a little better, seeing as how they’d be putting together more plans to fight off the end of the world. Wayne and Hopper noticed a few similar mannerisms between them. Eddie was more properly introduced to El and Will. And Jonathan and Argyle. And Joyce. Those were all the new faces he was getting a real conversation with. According to everyone, there was some guy who didn’t feel like coming in, two more on the way, and the other parents had headed off back to their homes until visiting hours were over. They didn't want to overwhelm Eddie and thought the kids should get to spend some time with him. Which was pretty sweet, considering he was a wanted man who had been on the run just a few days before.

It was about then that they were suddenly interrupted by a distressed woman in a pantsuit and sunglasses at their door.

But before she even got a word in, Nancy was standing up from her seat and very sharply telling her,” Out.”

The woman peeled off her sunglasses and responded through a clenched jaw,” I see you found our missing persons… and then some.”

She added that last bit while eyeing Jim.

“Get out.” Nancy insisted.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“I said ‘Get out’. So get out of this room.”

“Nancy…?” Joyce asked, concerned. Nancy had never revisited her grudge against this particular government agent any of the times they ran over things.

The woman pushed,“ We have to talk about what happened.”

“I’m not saying a goddamn word to you people. Since we can’t trust you not to make it worse.”

Then it was Hopper trying to calm her down,“ Kid-”

“They handed her back to him.” Nancy said firmly, making strides around Eddie’s bed to put herself between the woman and the rest of the room, tucking El right behind her,” So no. They don’t get to get close to her again.”

“However you feel about things, we still need to get on the same page if we have any hope of cleaning things up around here.”

“It’s not happening. Not here, not today, and not anywhere near El. I don’t care what you say, it’s not.”

The woman seemed exacerbated,“ We have to-”

Finally, Nancy let out the yell she had been fighting back all day,“ Get out!”

Which was a sight. For everyone. To see her lose her cool like that.

It was different than the way she fought monsters.

It was… something else.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“Tomorrow then? We all get together and discuss things tomorrow?” Joyce offered the compromise, still making up her mind on how exactly she felt about the situation but sure about wanting to get it taken care of.

Hopper answered for their guest in his own gruff voice,“ We’ll talk tomorrow.”

After a moment of silence, the agent decided to take the deal on the table,“ I’ll leave my card. There’s a number on it. Call and make plans for the meeting, or I’ll show up unannounced again. With backup.”

Nancy was gearing up to walk closer when Steve grabbed her shoulder,“ Get out-”

“I’m leaving. Make sure you call.” She said, pressing the slip on top of the light fixture by the door.

And then she was gone.

“You know… I was going to give this welcoming committee a five-star review in the paper until she showed up. Really soured the mood, you know?” Eddie joked, trying to relieve some tension.

Nancy huffed and returned to her seat,” Sorry. The news must’ve aired footage of the police arriving for questioning and were probably still running the cameras when everyone showed up, so…”

“We weren’t even thinking about that when we got here…” Jonathan muttered beside her.

“It’s okay. Still a pretty rockin’ day from my end. Being not dead and all.”

“That’s it, man. We just gotta focus on the positives.” Argyle smiled back at him.

“What’s the plan for the meeting?” Robin asked nervously.

“El’s not coming.” Nancy set the condition sternly.

“Agreed.” Hop nodded and crossed his arms.

“But-” the girl tried to argue.

“No. We have to assume she won’t be alone, and while Sam might’ve been on your side, we don’t know what they’re doing now on their own. We need to know how everything stands. If there are people who aren’t our allies, we aren’t giving them an opportunity to get ahold of you again.”

“We can’t just leave her alone, Hop,” Joyce noted.

“So, you don’t.” Wayne thought,” You bring her here on the way to the meeting. There are all the cameras at the entrance, an officer will be posted by the room, and this hospital is still full of people. If someone tried to break her out of her against her will, they wouldn’t get very far without drawing a lot of attention.”

Jim nodded some more,” Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea. El can stay here until we finish.”

“More time to hang out with my guardian angel? Sounds good to me.” Eddie agreed with a smile, hoping El wouldn’t be nervous about the idea.

“So then, tomorrow morning. Most of the rest of us. Some place public. Get this dealt with so we can figure out the next move.” Jim concluded.

And no one else said anything, but they all agreed. That was the plan.

There wasn’t much more to say the evening, so when four o’clock arrived and a nurse was kicking everyone besides Wayne out and introducing Officer Nichols, they all went their separate ways. Most of the kids' parents were pulled up by the hospital entrance for pickup. Except for Robin who Steve whisked away so they could spend a few hours doing some much-needed checking in. Robin just had her first date after all, so there was so much to talk about before he needed to drop her off at home.

She told him everything. All about the phone call and Vickie's new earrings. About all the ways Vickie made her laugh and how she could swear she’d noticed Vickie’s eyes lingering on her when she would get lost in her rambles. About the way that Vickie sat right next to her while they talked to Mr. Thompson on his front porch. About the way that Vickie leaned against her and touched her shoulder and seemed to be so close sometimes that Robin swore her head was spinning.

She talked about it all with Steve.

Because telling her best friend about her amazing day made it so much more real.

And that was the moment Steve decided Robin wasn’t coming with them to the meeting. He had already been pretty sure about it but watching her bursting with excitement about her first real chance at loving a girl made him certain.

There was probably going to be nothing major that happened. It would be stupid of the Feds to try and take out something like a dozen people in a small town where everyone knows each other. But he wasn’t going to risk it. Just couldn’t imagine risking Robin disappearing before she got to kiss Vickie for the first time and feel loved in that sweet special way that romance can hold.

With everything Steve knew about love and everything he didn’t, he knew that Robin deserved to have her chance to find out about it.

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 3/3)

Third and final part of my angsty Steddie “Bullshit” story where Steve changes himself to try to keep Eddie’s love. I swear the happy ending is finally here everyone! Please put the pitchforks and torches away!

I hope it lives up to expectations and thank you everyone for showing such a keen interest in my story. This final part is LONG and dialogue heavy but hey, at least you finally get the fluff.

Part 1 || Part 2

-

It had been two weeks.

Which, sure, wasn’t the longest they’d gone without seeing each other before due to their lives being hectic, but it had been the longest they’d gone without even so much as a quick goodnight phone call since they finally got together. Steve’s hand had hovered over the phone every night, wanting to call Eddie and apologize and promise to do better, but he was too much of a coward.

Because, you see, as long as they weren’t talking, Steve could still pretend that they were together. He knew though that the moment his resolve crumbled and he called Eddie, or Eddie finally had enough and called him, that it would be over. Eddie would officially break up with him and this time Steve didn’t know how he was going to pick up the pieces.

He loved too much, too quickly, too earnestly. But it was never enough. It was always just bullshit and he didn’t know how to stop it from being bullshit. The first time he hadn’t taken Nancy’s own needs into account, had been too caught up in his own trauma to realize that she needed more than just to pretend that nothing had happened and move on from what couldn’t be changed.

Neither had been in the wrong, of course, both dealing with trauma and guilt in their own way, but in the end they had simply been too incompatible. He hadn’t been what she needed and she hadn’t been what he needed. They couldn’t change that, not even back when that spark between them still burned in an ember. But who they were simply couldn’t change to be what the other needed, or deserved.

So then he tried to change, for Eddie. Once Eddie and he got together, it was obvious they were too different. Their friends had commented on it enough, and then when Steve changed to be worthy of Eddie, they commented on that too. But Steve was fine with changing. He loved Eddie enough to become what would make Eddie happy. He’d do anything to make Eddie happy.

Except he failed. He failed and now he had gone two weeks without speaking to his boyfriend who probably hated him now.

Their friends wouldn’t tell him anything either, not that he really wanted them to know of his failure. Only Robin knew because she had been the first person he had called when Eddie had ran away from him when it became obvious Steve wasn’t good enough.

Robin, who had threatened to make Eddie’s balls into earrings, had muttered about how she’d always known he was trouble, but Steve also remembered how happy Robin had been when she discovered she wasn’t alone. She and Eddie had gotten on like a house on fire, bickering like they’d been siblings all along, and it had been so nice to have both his soulmates so close to him and each other.

He couldn’t let Robin hate Eddie because of Steve’s own failings. So he talked to her, told her it was fine, told her not to hate Eddie just because Steve couldn’t be what he wanted, though that only seemed to make Robin worse.

Until a few days ago.

She had suddenly returned with a smile on her face, and though she seemed impatient at times, she had at least stopped threatening bodily harm towards Eddie. She stopped bringing Eddie up entirely, actually, though she looked like she wanted to say something more than once.

Normally, Steve would have pried it out of her. It would have been easy too. A flash of wide eyes, downturned lips, tilted head, a soft whine to her name, and she’d be spilling state secrets to him…though he already knew all the state secrets that she knew. But she couldn’t hide from her soulmate. Ever since that first bathroom confessional, they were never very good at keeping secrets from each other.

Steve was too tired for that now. He just wanted Eddie. But Eddie didn’t want him.

Because he was bullshit.

Steve was curled on his couch, Dio blasting from the music system, the fancy new CD player rotating the shiny disc over and over again on repeat. Eddie had said he preferred vinyls, so Steve tried to only listen to vinyls when he was around, but Steve enjoyed the way he could set the new CD technology on repeat without having to get up. It let him wallow for longer.

Robin had been by earlier, though she seemed jumpier than normal, constantly looking at her watch. She’d finally jumped out of Steve’s bed they were lounging in and said she had to go about an hour ago, stuttering excuses and refusing to meet his eyes.

He wondered if Robin was beginning to realize he was bullshit too.

He couldn’t blame her. They didn’t really have much in common either. It was only trauma bonding that tied them together, or at least that’s what she had called it a few nights after everything to do with Starcourt, when she’d biked all the way to Loch Nora and pounded on the door until a bewildered Steve had answered.

She’d thrown her arms around Steve then, and he’d realized she’d been crying, and she kept whispering over and over “you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe” as though she needed to reassure herself. Steve had at first thought she was talking about herself, but then he realized she was talking about him.

That particular realization had been electrifying. No one had ever really checked up on him before. But apparently Robin had been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of what the Russians had done to Steve, plagued by the what-if’s of Steve not making it out of the underground bunker. It was the first night they slept in the same bed together, but it wasn’t the last.

She’d told him that they were trauma bonded, them and the rest of the group, that no matter how different they were, they would always have each other’s back. That was also the first night she’d called him her soulmate though, making certain he knew she meant it Platonic with a capital ‘P’ and nothing else. Steve realized that it didn’t make it any less important.

But maybe that had been a lie too.

Maybe Robin was beginning to realize that they were too different. That Steve would never be good enough for anyone. Not good enough for his family, not good enough for Dustin, not good enough for Nancy, not good enough for Eddie, and not good enough for Robin. Always wanting, always worthless. Always bullshit.

It was during this spiral that a very polite, though loud, knocking came from the front door. He supposed they had to be loud to be heard over the sounds of Dio, which he had cranked up to try to drown out the thoughts in his head.

Steve rubbed at his eyes, which felt crusty from dried tears, sitting up from where he had collapsed after showing Robin out the door. He’d think that it was Robin returning for something she forgot, a regular occurrence, but she rarely knocked anymore. She typically just let herself in with the spare key he’d given her. He’d given one to Eddie too.

Pushing thoughts of his maybe-still-his-boyfriend away as he hit pause on the music, Steve shuffled towards the front door. He gave a brief tug of his Iron Maiden shirt, which was actually one of Eddie’s, to attempt to make his rumpled appearance look a little more presentable, and then he was swinging the door open to reveal…

Eddie???

Except…it wasn’t an Eddie he recognized. No, this Eddie was wearing an orchid pink polo and light khakis, and…were those Oxford shoes he was wearing?? With a matching belt??? His hair was smoothed fully back and clasped into a professional looking bun and not a single ring adorned his fingers, made obvious by the way Eddie held up a bouquet of roses. Even the ever present pick necklace from absent from Eddie’s neck.

Steve gaped.

“Hello, Steve,” Eddie said, even his voice seemed softer, less wild, and his smile was the sort Steve had seen his father’s business associates give to each other when a good deal had gone through. Happy, pleased, but restrained. Nothing like the manic grins he was used to from Eddie.

“E-Eddie?” he croaked out, absolutely in disbelief. Behind Eddie, Steve could see a station wagon parked where Eddie’s van should be. “What’s going on?”

Eddie held the flowers out towards Steve, who automatically took them. He couldn’t help but give a bemused smile even as he brought them up to smell. Eddie took a deep breath, indicating the foyer with a small motion of his hand.

“Sorry, but may we talk inside?”

This strangely polite version of Eddie was making Steve feel weirdly uncomfortable, so used to the exuberance that normally surrounded the other man. He took a step back, however, because it was Eddie. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest at seeing Eddie again, even if he looked different.

Steve closed the door behind Eddie after the other man stepped forward, though not before wiping his shoes off on the doormat, which Steve could not recall Eddie ever doing before. He felt like he had somehow fallen into an alternate dimension, and not of the Upside Down variety. Maybe that would have been better; he knew how to handle that kind.

“Um…let me put these in water?” Steve said, though it sounded more like a question, at a loss for what was happening right now.

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you mind if I put on the game?”

Sweetheart.

Steve felt a hopeful flutter in his chest and gut at the use of an endearment. Sure, Eddie was no stranger to using such terms in retaliation to bullies or anyone else he disliked, but that was not the tone Eddie used just now. No, he used the tone he always used with Steve, making Steve hopeful towards the idea that he hadn’t actually ruined everything yet.

He was so caught up with that fact that it took him a moment to process the second part of what Eddie said. “Uh…yeah, sure?” he answered with a question again, brows furrowing, as he wondered if he had somehow forgotten that he was supposed to host Eddie’s campaign night that night.

He hurried quickly to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, suddenly worried about how his home looked. He hadn’t been expecting to host Dungeons and Dragons, didn’t have the snacking station set up or anything. Did he have enough beverages? Who all was coming tonight? He felt his hosting anxiety start climbing at these questions, as well as the worry that this was a test.

If he failed tonight, would Eddie finally be done with him?

Steve was just settling the vase full of roses on the counter when he heard…was that…?

“Oh come on, Coach! Take him out!” Eddie’s voice filtered through to him as Steve slowly made his way towards the living room. “That asshole is making Gochnaur look like a capable shortstop!”

Was Eddie…watching baseball?

Did Eddie know about John Gochnaur?

What was happening right now?

Steve stood in the doorway leading into the living room, watching with a completely gobsmacked expression as, yes, Eddie was currently watching baseball and giving correct commentary. Steve hadn’t even known Eddie knew what a shortstop did.

Eddie glanced over at Steve and his annoyed expression smoothed into one of happiness. He pat the couch next to him invitingly and Steve could do nothing but walk forward and take his place at Eddie’s side. His furrowed brows shot up into his hairline when Eddie pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he started rattling off statistics of the players on screen like he did monsters during his DnD campaigns as he indicated the probability of home runs and errors.

“What the hell is going on right now?” he mumbled mostly to himself. This was…this was weird. He wasn’t sure he liked this. No, he knew he didn’t like this. Whatever this was, it felt wrong. He turned his head to frown at Eddie who still looked caught up in the game. In sports.

“Eddie, what…” Steve shook his head slightly, wetting his lips. “Why are you watching baseball? Why are you wearing those clothes? You just left the other days and now you look like a completely different person. What is going on?”

Eddie glanced over at Steve, his own brows high into his bangs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve. I’m wearing perfectly normal clothing. And sure, it’s only baseball, but it’s not like it’s basketball season yet.”

Eddie paused then, his expression settling into a neutral look for only a moment before slowly morphing to one of pained regret. He sight and hung his head for a moment before grabbing the remote and muting the screen. He then released Steve just enough to turn slightly on the couch to better face him.

“I’m sorry for leaving though, baby. There’s no excuse for just running out on you like that. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…I had a lot on my mind and I needed to figure some things out. But don’t worry, Stevie. I have it all figured out now and now I can be an even better boyfriend to you,” he finished with a wide grin that looked nothing like his typical crazed charming smile. It looked more like the grins he used to make before he felt comfortable around Steve and the others.

Charming, yes, but not right. Not Eddie.

But Eddie was leaning forwards, brushing one of the limp pieces of his hair that he hadn’t even bothered to style these past two weeks—hell, had barely had the energy to even wash—back behind his ear. He then pressed forward to lightly kiss the tip of Steve’s nose with a smile, and Steve could only smile back. Eddie was here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

Except…

Except.

Eddie’s pink polo was still in his line of vision. It was Eddie, but it wasn’t Eddie at the same time. He looked nothing like the metalhead he loved. Not that there was anything wrong with what he wore now, of course, and honestly seeing Eddie in a polo was kind of hot, but…it wasn’t him.

Steve pulled back, his smile turning back into a small frown. His eyes tracked over Eddie’s outfit. Sure, Eddie looked nice in it, but it was incredibly wrong. The khakis even looked pressed. “But seriously, Eddie, what the hell are you wearing?”

Eddie looked down at his own clothing with a look of not understanding before looking back up at Steve. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’m wearing clothing. A shirt and pants I’ve even got underwear on underneath. Though I can wear a lot less of it if you prefer, baby,” he added in that sultry voice that never failed to get Steve going. He’d once accidentally slipped into it while DMing when he narrated a succubus type NPC and Steve had popped a boner right then and there at the table.

And Steve’s dick made a valiant effort to respond now actually, but everything was wrong and Steve didn’t like that. He continued frowning at Eddie.

“Why are you wearing a polo?” he asked more directly, because he knew from experience with Dustin and Robin and even Eddie himself that sometimes you just have to ask directly if you wanted a proper answer. And seriously. A polo?? “Where are your regular clothes. And why are you watching baseball?”

“I like baseball,” Eddie replied easily with a shrug. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I like that the players can have their little music intro. And I wear polos now, they’re surprisingly comfortable.” He gave Steve a gentle smile. “If you don’t want to watch baseball, we can do something else. You wanna put on some music? Have you heard Debbie Gibson’s new song? Truly heartbreaking. I bet it’s on the radio right now.”

Steve just gaped. It was like Eddie was speaking an alien language even though he knew that all that was English and he understood each word separately. All together though, coming from Eddie’s mouth? Yeah, nothing made sense.

“Eddie,” he breathed, slowly reaching out for Eddie’s left hand and feeling another swoop of wrongness at the lack of rings there. “When you said you wanted to put on the game, I thought you meant a campaign. And Debbie Gibson? Babe, you’re in a metal band. Debbie Gibson isn’t cool.”

“Hey! You treat Deb with respect. Girl’s got an excellent voice,” Eddie said with indignation. Steve could only roll his eyes because yeah, he knew that, but Eddie saying something like that? Unreal. It was Eddie’s next words that made him freeze solid, however.

“Besides, I quit the band. Dungeons and Dragons too. Figured I’m too old for that nerd shit. I’m thinking about getting a real job now anyways, so I don’t have time for all that anymore. Actually, do you want to go through the classifieds together with me later? Gareth said he’d try to get me an in with his dad’s company, but it’s better to be prepared.”

Eddie quit the band? Quit Dungeons and Dragons? Was talking about a corporate job? What. The. Fuck.

Steve scrambled up from the couch, his fingers moving up to squeeze the bridge of his nose before both hands settled on his hips as he stared at Eddie in disbelief. “You love Corroded Coffin. And Dungeons and Dragons! Why the hell would you stop doing something you love?”

Something flashed across Eddie’s expression then, something pleased like Steve had said exactly what Eddie had hoped he would, but it was gone the very next instant leaving Eddie simply staring up Steve with wide and imploring eyes.

“But Steve,” he said, and his tone was too earnest that it made Steve pause. “I love you more, and you don’t like those things. So I’ll change, for you.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water thrown back in his face. He couldn’t move, couldn’t react. Couldn’t resist when Eddie reached out and grasped his hand to pull him back to the couch he’d just vacated, pulling him against his side once more.

“You changed for me, so now I’ll change for you,” Eddie said like the solution was obvious. Steve mutely shook his head, but Eddie’s smile was toothy and sharp and so much like the smile he was used to that he couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since Eddie wasn’t done. “You changed who you were because you loved me so much and didn’t want to lose me. Is it so preposterous to imagine that I love you so much that I’m willing to do the same?”

Yes! Steve wanted to exclaim, wanted to shout and shake Eddie, because of course Eddie didn’t love Steve the same way that Steve loved Eddie; no one ever did.

Well, except maybe Robin. They were Platonic soulmates after all. He knew that he had started doubting her earlier, which made him a little nauseous to do actually, but she had been the only one so far who had never abandoned him. Who seemingly cared for him the same way he cared for her.

But to think he could possibly be blessed with someone who loved him, romantically, that same way? To think that he might be lucky enough to have that sort of fabled love twice? Impossible! Because…because he knew. He knew he wasn’t good enough. He wouldn’t ever be good enough. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t—

“Do you know why I love you, Stevie?” Eddie murmured, cutting off Steve’s thoughts and causing him to stiffen beside him. It wasn’t like he was unused to these declarations; Eddie never really shied away from telling Steve he loved him, though Steve had to fight back the inane temptation to make a bitchy little joke about it like he’d had before, teasingly crediting his ass or how pretty he looked on his knees. Eddie had given them as reasons enough for his love when they’d joked around before, just as Steven had teasingly cited his love as being because of how skilled Eddie’s fingers were, or the talent of his mouth.

He could sense, however, that trying to trivialize the moment would not go well this time. No, Eddie was looking at him earnestly once more, was reaching out again for Steve’s hand to hold and clutch between both of his against his chest. He thankfully did not seem like he was expecting an answer from Steve.

“It’s because you thought about my safety first, back then, at Skull Rock, even after I’d shoved a broken bottle at your neck. Even though we ran in two totally different circles, you immediately put me as a priority. It’s because you didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, not in belittlement of Wheeler and Buckley for being girls, or me for being…well, me…but simply because you were aware of your own qualifications and knew you were best for the job.

“It’s because, at the first real opportunity of being relatively alone with me, you immediately thanked me for coming to help you after you’d been pulled under, like there had been any other option. As if it wasn’t a given that you deserved to be made a priority too.”

Eddie paused then, thickly swallowed as his eyes closed momentarily. “Though you totally saved your own ass there, tearing that bitch apart with your bare hands. You’re a total badass, sweetheart,” he rumbled, the heat of hungry appreciation in his voice. “Wrapped up in soft yellow sweaters and ridiculously styled hair.”

Opening his eyes to look at Steve again, Steve could see some of that (still surprising) hunger lingering. Because yeah, he knew now that Eddie had near creamed his pants when he’d pulled an Ozzy with the demobat, and even though he questioned his boyfriend’s tastes at time, he was also always so gleeful to know that Eddie thought him sexy as hell.

But it was more than just that, and Steve felt his heart hammering away beneath his ribcage as Eddie kept going on, singing his praises as if Steve was truly something to be admired.

“It’s because,” Eddie continued saying, bringing Steve’s hand up to lightly nuzzle against his knuckles, “you always put everyone else first, even if you hide it behind your bitchy little snide words. Because you care about everyone else and would throw yourself directly into the path of danger to protect them. Protect us. And more than that, you take care of everyone around you, whether they show their gratitude or not. Dustin wasn’t wrong when he talked about how great you are.

“It’s because…” Eddie drew in another shuddering breath, his eyes wide and deep with emotion. “It’s because, when you look at me, you see me, not just another trailer trash failure who couldn’t even properly graduate high school. You see someone worth loving.”

“Eddie,” Steve broke in then with a cracked voice, his guilt unable to keep him quiet. “You were right about me, though. I was a douchebag. Even about you I was an asshole until everything went down. I called you a freak, and I didn’t try hard enough to stop Tommy from attacking you or the others, and I only cared about myself back then. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. “I won’t deny past dickishness, but I’m not so innocent either,” he pointed out. “I held my own prejudices, my own selfishness. I ostracized Lucas for daring to like sports, I nearly abandoned my bandmates the first time I thought I could make it solo, and I continually ran away when things got tough or hard, try as hard as I did to pretend otherwise.”

Eddie released Steve’s hand from one of his own so that he could snake it behind Steve’s neck to pull him in for a gentle kiss. Steve melted into it, terrified Eddie would eventually leave him still, while also taking great comfort in the kiss. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, that much he was certain.

“You love with your whole heart, Stevie,” Eddie whispered when he finally pulled away. “I will never be able to apologize enough for taking advantage of that, for not realizing what was going on.” He dropped his gaze to the Iron Maiden shirt Steve was wearing, sliding his hand from Steve’s neck to his chest. “The fact that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough exactly as you are will always haunt me.”

Steve didn’t want Eddie sad. He didn’t want Eddie to blame himself for Steve not being enough. He couldn’t get the words out though, not when Eddie looked so utterly heartbroken.

“I’m so sorry, baby. And I’m so sorry for leaving. I just…I realized what I did to you and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

Steve was horrified by the tears that began flooding Eddie’s eyes, causing him to reach out with his own freed hand pull Eddie in by his polo for another kiss. He didn’t understand what was going on, but…but…

Was Eddie truly not upset with him?

“Christ, baby,” Eddie murmured against his lips. “I love you in your polos. I love you listening to your own music in the car, the way your hair flops about as you jam out to Queen and Wham! and even Cydni fucking Lauper. I love how passionate you get about sports, the way you fuss over Henderson and the others, the way you call out other people’s shit. I love all of you, not in spite of you.”

Eddie pulled back to look properly at Steve, and this time it was Steve with tears brimming in his eyes. Everything Eddie said was like a revelation because the tone of Eddie’s voice, the look in Eddie’s eyes…he meant them.

“But…we’re so different,” he protested, because how was he supposed to accept that when they were nothing alike? Certainly Eddie had to have some regrets, or wish for some changes.

“Steve,” Eddie said on a near whine. “Of course we’re different. We’re different people.” He shook his head suddenly, taking a deep breath. He then reached out and caught Steve’s chin to force him to look at him, catching his eyes with his own. “Do you love me any less for being different than you?”

“No!” Steve yelled aghast. How could Eddie ever think that?

“Then why do you think I would ever love you less for the same?”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest again, except…except he didn’t really have an answer to that. Not beyond the fact that he would always be less than. Less than Eddie, less than the kids, less than everyone else he ever cared about.

Except…

Except.

The way Eddie was staring at him now, the way Eddie’s own pain reflected in his dark brown eyes, didn’t make Steve feel like he was lesser. Eddie had never made him feel lesser, actually. Eddie had instead made him feel like…like he mattered. Like he was something worth cherishing. Like…like he was loved.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve admitted, voice cracking, and the tears he’d been keeping at bay slowly spilled over and slid down his cheeks.

Eddie cupped his jaw with both hands then, and though his tears didn’t fall, he sniffled in a way that revealed that it was a very near thing. “I love you so much, baby. I was so ecstatic that you loved me too, that you seemed to be willing to take interest in the things I loved, that I didn’t realize I never did the same. I thought you were trying to figure out who you were, I never noticed that you stopped being you.

“I don’t want you to be just another metalhead who likes everything I like. I want you to be your own person, to like the things you like even if I don’t like them. I want to meet you in the middle of who we are, not a compromise, but as a sign of our love. I’ll take you to metal concerts and you can take me to sports games, even the ones with laundry baskets,” he gently teased. “Any of them, I don’t care. As long as I’m with you doing things you love, I’ll be happy. Because you make me happy, sweetheart.”

Steve’s eyes darted away, eyes catching on the screen where one of the players just stole a base and made themselves that much closer to winning the game, before looking back at Eddie. He didn’t see anything false in his expression, only genuine, hopeful sincerity. Like he truly meant his words.

“I’m fine doing whatever you want,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to sacrifice anything.”

“Baby,” Eddie implored. “It’s not a sacrifice to be with you. You’re so perfect for me, just like you are. Like you truly are. I fell in love with you not because of what you can give me, but because of who you are. I never thought you were actually trying to change to be who you thought I wanted you to be. Because I just want you, baby. If you still want me.”

“Of course I want you,” Steve murmured immediately, his hands moving to claps at Eddie’s forearms. “I’ll always want you.”

Eddie grinned at him, though it was still emotional. He at least managed to keep his tears at bay, blinking rapidly until there wasn’t fear of them falling anymore. He leaned in then to press a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, his thumbs lightly stroking over Steve’s cheeks. “And I’ll always want you. Hell, baby, I’d marry you right now if it were legal.”

That got Steve’s attention.

He pulled back again, pulling Eddie’s hands from his face to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Again there was only sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, and patience, as he let Steve process and work through his words. To understand just how much Eddie meant it.

Eddie loved him. He knew this of course, but…hell, they hadn’t been dating all that long, all things considered, and he’d once heard Eddie denounce marriage as just another conformist expectation used to take your individuality away, but here was Eddie saying he would marry him if given the chance. He knew Eddie wouldn’t say something like that unless he truly meant it too. Eddie loved him.

“But…we’re so different, Eddie,” he repeated in barely more than a whisper. “A-and I don’t want you to quit your band or Dungeons and Dragons or anything like that for me. I don’t want you conforming for me.”

Eddie just grinned again, his expression so full of love for Steve that it made Steve almost physically ache. “And I don’t want you changing for me,” he simply said, and…and maybe Steve was starting to get that, but…

“But you were so happy when I started listening to metal, and not all of it is bad,” Steve admitted. “I actually liked some of it. More than I thought I would.”

“I was happy,” Eddie admitted right back, letting out a soft sigh. “I was happy to share something with you, happy to help you develop your interest since I thought it was something you wanted. I didn’t mean to push it on you. I was just…I thought that if we had a shared interest like that, you wouldn’t decide I was too much. When you started dressing like this…”

Eddie moved to lightly tug at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “I had been so terrified that you would realize you could do better than someone like me,” he whispered. “Having you not be put off by the way I dressed, by the music I liked, by anything I liked made me happy because it calmed my fears that I’d scare you off or something, that you’d move on to greener and better pastures.”

And that was just not right. Better than Eddie? Someone like that simply didn’t exist. And all because Eddie liked a certain kind of music, or dressed a certain way? Absolutely not.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, and this time it was him reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek to make him look at him properly again. “You’re so amazing, Eddie. How in the world could someone better than you exist? You’re a fucking hero, man. And don’t say you’re not,” he said firmly when Eddie opened his mouth to say just that, like he always did when it got brought up. “You are. You’re brave and selfless and literally out your life in the line to protect others. You’re badass, baby. Just like me,” he grinned in tease.

Eddie softly snorted, placing his hand over Steve’s on his cheek so he could hold it as he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm. “You are a badass,” Eddie agreed. “And you’re sweet too, even though you deny that too. I love you so much, and I should have paid more attention to why you were suddenly into all the same things I was instead of just being happy to share them with you.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, placing another soft kiss to his palm before trailing his lips into gentle kisses against his fingertips. “And I should have done more to meet you halfway. I should have been doing this from the start,” he admitted, indicating the muted TV. “You were always willing to join my hobbies but I never even offered to join yours. I’m truly very sorry, baby.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Steve complained. “I forgive you, okay? It’s just…you’re…” Steve swallowed, making himself actually stop and consider Eddie’s words, their meaning, their truth. “I’d love you even if you always hated sports,” he said softly, a small light of understanding settling over him. Because if he could love Eddie without needing Eddie to like everything he liked…

“Then can’t I love you even if you hate the things I like?” Eddie murmured, as if finishing his thought for him. “I don’t need you to be a carbon copy of my interests, baby. I love you for you, Steve. I’ve missed your polos and your preppy look,” he grinned. “It’s hot.”

Steve flushed slightly at that, Eddie’s eyes telling him again just how truthful those words were. He hadn’t ever once considered that Eddie actually liked that part of him, not when Eddie always wore dark clothing and looked the way he did. They were so different…

His eyes moved once more over Eddie, taking in that ridiculously pink polo and khaki pants, so unlike the things Eddie would wear but so similar to something Steve would. And…yeah, okay, that was hot, but he didn’t want Eddie to wear it all the time because it just wasn’t him. If Eddie wanted to then of course he’d never say anything about it, but he would miss the way his metalhead usually looked. Like…the way Steve looked now, while Eddie…Eddie looked like how he would have normally dressed.

Because Eddie said he would change for Steve, would give up the things he loved, just to keep Steve happy. But Steve didn’t need that to be happy. He was happy just to have Eddie, exactly the way he was, without Eddie pretending to be something he wasn’t. He didn’t want Eddie to change for him, even though…yeah he would like to be able to share his own interests with Eddie sometimes. And maybe…

Maybe, if Eddie had started dressing like that gradually, started expressing interest in Steve’s hobbies slowly, he wouldn’t notice how much Eddie had been changing to try to fit in with him. Maybe he would have just assumed Eddie was genuinely branching out his own interests because he felt safe enough to do so without being ridiculed, like…like Steve had slowly done.

But Eddie had appeared so drastically changed that Steve couldn’t help but rebel against it, couldn’t help but clock it as wrong, could only see it for what it was:

Bullshit.

Steve grinned suddenly at that revelation. A bright happiness began filling him until he felt like he was full of fizzy soda and Pop Rocks. He realized that it was bullshit, but he wasn’t. What was bullshit wasn’t his love, or his inability to be exactly like Eddie, but the fact that he tried to be someone he wasn’t. Him trying to change who he was was bullshit. Because Eddie?

Eddie loved him anyways. Eddie loved him even if he was an ex-jock prep who cared about his appearance maybe a little too much, who cared about keeping his home and car clean, who listened to popular catchy music on the radio simply because it was fun. Eddie had fallen in love with Steve because of who he was, not who he could change himself into becoming.

Eddie loved him. And love like that could never be bullshit.

When Steve finally looked Eddie in the eyes again, truly looked and saw and heard everything Eddie had been trying to tell him, he felt tears escape down his cheeks again but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because he got it now. He understood. Eddie hadn’t wanted him to change, he had just been supporting Steve in what he thought Steve wanted.

“I’m such an idiot,” Steve wetly laughed, throwing his arms around Eddie to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

“Hey now, don’t insult my husband like that,” Eddie admonished, but his words sounded wet too as his own arms moved to wrap around Steve’s back and hold him close.

“We’re not married yet, asshole. You didn’t even ask me,” he pointed out with a giddy roll of his eyes.

“Right, right, silly me,” Eddie said, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice. “Guess I better go buy a ring first. And ask Buckley for her blessing.” Eddie drew in a shaky breath before huffing it out in a laugh. “Maybe she’ll let me keep my balls now.”

Steve pulled back with a confused furrow to his brows. He hadn’t told Eddie that his balls were in any danger.

When Eddie caught his expression, Eddie rolled his eyes next. “After I left, I spent probably a week trying to process everything, trying to figure out where I went wrong and horrified with myself for unknowingly encouraging you into changing for me, going over every little thing I fucked up. Then Buckley showed up and read me the fucking riot act.” He shuddered. “She’s terrifying.”

“I told her not to do that,” Steve frowned, though his lips twitched at his boyfriend’s dramatics. Christ, he loved him so much. And Eddie, somehow, apparently loved him just as much.

“Well I’m glad she did,” Eddie said with a small chuckle and shake of his head. “We came up with all this together,” he added with an indication of his clothing and the TV. “She heard my side of things and realized that if there’s an idiot in our relationship, it’s me. And then we came up with this plan to show you why I’d never want you to be someone you weren’t. Figured if I showed up completely changed too, you’d realize why it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Anxiety hit Steve suddenly and he stared at Eddie with wide eyes. “Wait, you didn’t actually quit the band, did you? Eddie!”

“No, no, not really.” Eddie paused. “Mostly.” He gave a little wincing smile at Steve’s fierce glare. “I told them what I was going to do, as well as saying that I may end up actually quitting if that’s what you needed of me. Because I meant it, Stevie,” he added with his own fierceness. “I love you more than I love being in the band or anything else. You’re it for me, hot stuff.”

“You are an idiot,” Steve groaned, and he didn’t know if he should be upset with Eddie, relieved, or insanely happy. He somehow felt all three at once, giving Eddie’s arm a small slap. “But I am absolutely determined to have a hot and talented famous rockstar boyfriend, Munson, so you better not quit. Or I’m dumping your ass for Jeff,” he said with a wicked little grin.

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasped, his hand moving to clutch at his shirt over his heart, falling back against the couch cushions dramatically.

Steve merely rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t keep the deliriously happy smile off his face because this was his boyfriend. This dramatic, goofy, absolute loser of a man. He was so fucking lucky.

“And that station wagon out front?” he asked, eyebrow arching.

“Borrowed,” Eddie grinned, propping himself up with an elbow to look at Steve. “Jeff’s mom’s. Really had to make it authentic, ya know?”

“And the baseball knowledge?”

Eddie laughed at that. “Wayne gave me some pointers. I think he was ecstatic to finally be able to talk to me about sports knowing I would listen. He also says we’re all watching the season finale together.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “It’s called the World Series, asshole.”

“Kind of pretentious to call it that, don’tcha think, seeing as how it’s only America playing?”

Letting out a huff, Steve crawled over Eddie to look down at him, straddling a thigh as both his brows raised high over his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. But…” Steve’s expression softened into a small, almost shy smile. “Thank you. For loving me.”

Eddie smiled back up at Steve, settling back against the couch cushions and bringing his arms up to lightly hook over his shoulders and crossing them behind Steve’s neck. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied simply. “Now, will you please go back to my preppy sexy boyfriend who listens to ABBA and complains about bad hair days? I miss him dreadfully.”

Steve felt his happiness bubbling up inside him again, grinning down at Eddie before leaning in to take his lips in a giddy kiss. “Maybe you should take your Iron Maiden shirt back then, right now,” he murmured meaningfully against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie grinned beneath him. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “And get this pink monstrosity off too.”

Steve pulled back at that, planting his hand flat on Eddie’s chest to stop him from moving to do just that, causing Eddie to still beneath him. Steve slid his gaze over said pink monstrosity, wetting his lips with darkening eyes.

“No,” he murmured, voice roughened as he slid his gaze back up to Eddie’s widening eyes, a soft pink flush entering pale cheeks. “Keep it on.”

And he did.

At least until it was too ruined to be saved. But they could always buy Eddie another polo later.

Steve’s insecurities weren’t magically gone from one conversation, of course, but it proved to be a great start. There were still moments when Steve felt like he wasn’t good enough, but it helped to know that Eddie felt the same way at times too, that they were both so in love and would do anything for the other person.

After that day, the two worked together to find a new middle ground. Steve still supported Corroded Coffin at all their shows, wearing their shirts and other merch frequently, and even kept his studded leather bracelet that matched Eddie’s own. He went back to wearing his polos in his day-to-day life, however, and styling his hair with near ridiculous amounts of hairspray.

They talked about their hobbies, with Eddie making a mix tape of the metal songs that Steve actually ended up liking, and Eddie even found enjoyment in playing the occasional game of ball with Steve and even Lucas and the others sometimes joined in. (Sure, he mostly liked the way Steve looked all sweaty and flushed with exertion, but he had some genuine fun shooting balls into “laundry baskets” all the same too.)

They made compromises in the movies they watched, the foods they ate, and Steve took on a more passive role during DnD nights. His character decided to strike out on his own, in story, though he would occasionally rejoin the adventurers when their paths crossed, allowing Steve to play when he felt in the mood and sit out when he wasn’t. Steve had even cajoled Nancy into rejoining the game with him sometimes, much to the Party’s (especially Dustin’s) delight.

Eddie never really took to polos for regular wear, though he did wear the occasional Henley and Steve had convinced Eddie to take better care of his hair, helping his boyfriend set up a couple different routines based on the time frame he had to work with before events or daily life, earning numerous compliments on the healthy curls he now regularly sported. Steve loved the mornings where they got to primp together, and even Eddie flushed with happiness when they caught each other’s eyes in the mirror or helped each other fluff their hair.

Eddie also summoned the Party and acted like a drill sergeant as he commanded each of them to give Steve’s car a deep cleaning and detailing, shampooing and vacuuming and waxing the inside and outside until the BMW gleamed like practically new. He also helped enforce the rules about leaving no mess behind, either by forbidding open food containers or by picking up after themselves. Steve was so impressed by it that he couldn’t help dirtying the car a little again by taking Eddie into the backseat after everything.

They took down the posters and flyers and random crap that covered Steve’s walls, though Steve kept up the Black Sabbath and Dio posters, even if he made Eddie straighten them up. He also kept up the Corroded Coffin flag Eddie had made him, though he began adding his own decorations as well through encouragement from Eddie. Eddie even got him a banner for his favorite sports team, hanging it up right next to the Corroded Coffin flag. (Later, when Steve eventually moved out of his parents’ abandoned house, Eddie would cut a swatch of the wallpaper from the wall, framing the bit of plaid for Steve to carrying with them to their eventual shared home.)

Robin was a menace, of course, and continually made passing comments about needing earrings. The threat was not lost on Eddie and he always made certain he showered Steve in praise and confirmed his love for him whenever Robin gave him the stink eye. Steve may or may not sometimes signal when he wanted the threat made, especially around important dates like holidays and anniversaries.

And Eddie did make good on his comment about asking Robin’s permission for a certain question, though in his nervousness and excitement he fumbled actually asking Steve for forever and instead accidentally threw the ring at Steve one night after a dinner he’d tried to make but inevitably burned. They ordered take out and laughed about it, then Steve made certain Eddie never had to doubt his ‘yes’ right there in the kitchen. And living room. And bedroom. And then for good measure in the shower.

Steve always remained a prep, and Eddie always remained a metalhead, but over the years they slowly adopted and adapted bits and pieces of each other’s style, though Eddie couldn’t ever wear a polo to tease Steve without Steve immediately dragging him into bed. Or to the nearest flat surface.

There were days that the insecurities would crop up still, of course, for both of them. These days grew less over the years, the commitment Steve and Eddie felt for each other reflected in the matching rings they wore, exchanged during a small ceremony that, though not legal in the eyes of the law, was no less absolute in their hearts.

Because Steve knew now what those insecurities were, what the voice was that whispered that he would never be good enough for anyone, and he knew what to say when they tried to tear him down. And he would smile when he said it, safe, content, and secure in his and Eddie’s love.

“Bullshit.”

-

As I said before, I am tagging everyone who asked to be tagged, so if I’ve accidentally missed you or tagged the wrong person, I apologize. It’s a lot of people. Heh.

Tagged: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @petalsandpixels @coolgirldad @xxbottlecapx @yesdangerpls @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @miss-wright

@brainsteddielyrotted @nerdyglassescheeseychick @ohimamarigold @sofadofax @moss-g0blin @secretly-kait @blossomingblueberries @my-love-of-books @blounette @p0lybl4nkk

@sapphicsforsteve @wearespacedust @mae-liz @stripey82 @tinyplanet95 @0mochiia0 @sunnycycle @jaytriesstrangerthings @hotluncheddie @dragonmama76

@stevieschrodinger @townseleven @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @novacorpsrecruit @mugloversonly @imaginary-maggie-waggie @pointlessmosswitch @fatiguedclown @prazinos

@thedragonsaunt @bookworm0690 @brazenliar @samsoble @wrenisflying @queenie-ofthe-void @breealtair @highqueenhalalie @steddieassheg0es @theintrovertedintrovert

(rest of tags will be in a reblog, did not realize how many I had agreed to lol my bad)

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle a.d.

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post 🤭

part ii | part iii | part iv | part v

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He notices he’s offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. You’re giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.

Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.

You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. You’d been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.

You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.

Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for “Lily.” So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin you’d bring was Art’s.

The two of you didn’t really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.

Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. He’d simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this year’s Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like you’d tasted something sour.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Art stammered. “I just wasn’t sure…”

You scoffed at him disbelieving.

“Well when he finally gets his head out of that whore’s ass then maybe he’ll be able to let you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husband’s name.

Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Art’s eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.

Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he’d pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you he’s really sorry for what he said. That he wasn’t thinking. He wants to make it up to you.

You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that “it’s fine,” and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you can’t help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.

You tell him as much and reassure him that you don’t need anything, he doesn’t need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.

Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks he’s done something wrong. You’d chalked it up to the media training you know he must’ve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR manager’s job ten times easier. Not that you didn’t believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.

You’d seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. You’d also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way he’d give you a small, bashful smile when you’d catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.

Art Donaldson could be sneaky.

ᯓ

He’d never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when he’d walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.

Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how he’d come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parents’ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapist’s suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didn’t own but had grown to recognize.

That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didn’t believe him. Tashi was perfect.

After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.

Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. He’d brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.

Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but you’d stuck to hiding your face against his chest.

He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered.

“That we said we should go home like 5 min ago.” His hands traveled lower. “You?” You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.

“That I might not be any better than your husband.”

Your eyes widened. Art’s palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.

“Art!” Your hands flew to his hair.

He laughed into your neck.

You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.

His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.

Then, his phone rang.

Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. He’d been honest, telling her that he’d stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Tashi says hi.”

ᯓ

The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadn’t been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, he’d smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.

ᯓ

So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.

When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.

Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, you’re leaning in. Maybe it’s your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, he’s not moving back. You’re gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.

You’re not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.

When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for god’s sake. You’ve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have...”

Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He’s looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like he’ll break if you say the wrong thing.

“I—we, we shouldn’t have done that, Art.”

He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesn’t work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. “I want you.”

“But you’re married Art…”

“I want you.” He repeats. “I’ve wanted you…for awhile now.”

And though you already know this, it still shocks you that he’s actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, he’s back on you and you don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid to break him or if you’ve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.

You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He’s pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Art’s hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but can’t say anything as he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.

He’s up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before he’s back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.

You’re moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.

You nod eagerly.

"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.

You nod again and let him press against your opening.

Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. You’re whimpering and squeezing around him like you haven’t had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.

He doesn’t even care that he won’t last long. He can’t deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.

Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and he’s whining that he’s close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.

You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick that’s still buried in you.

You let him help you redress. He’d winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.

Once you’re both dressed and you’re standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.

You roll your eyes.

“Good night, Art.” You get into the driver’s seat.

“I’m serious.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.

“Your wife has my number.”

And then, you shut the door.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrick’s character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic

thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Bruises/Hickies, Church

AN: Surprise shawtyyy! I was fighting demons to keep a poker face up until this point lolol also normally, I'd have a follow up post for Tuesday if I post on a Monday - but next update will be later this week, as I'm at the point where I'm just straight up making poses for the whole thing lol. (trying not to, because it's time consuming).

Transcript under the cut

Malcolm: Are they done yet? This is boring!

Jonathan: You don’t get it.

Malcolm: Get what!

Jonathan: Mom and Dad. They’re in love and stuff.

Malcolm: Bleh!

Nancy: [whispers] I’m sorry.

Geoffrey: Hm? What for?

Nancy Narrates: [For betraying you]

Nancy Narrates: [For always wanting more when this should be enough]

Nancy Narrates: [You don’t deserve this..]

Nancy: [whispers] Nothing. Nevermind.

-

Jonathan: What happened? What’s wrong with Mom?

Geoffrey: She’s ok, she just needs to rest-

Malcolm: Is it cause she’s drunk?

Geoffrey: Malcolm- Ok, how about you two find a movie for us to watch for boy’s night and I’ll get Mommy ready for bed.

Geoffrey: Nance. I need you to sit up so I can get your night gown on.

Nancy: Mhm.. s’fine.

Geoffrey: [snorts] Alright, suit yourself. Don’t try and steal all the blankets when you get cold tonight.

Nancy: [whimpers] M’ gonna be better, Geoffrey. M’so sorry..

Geoffrey: There you go, apologizing again. You know it’s ok if you do steal them, right, silly? I run hot at night any...anyway-

-

Nancy Narrates: [I made a silent promise to my family that I’ll never stray away from them again. I would make it right, somehow]

Deacon: Today we gather to reflect on the sacred gift of family. God created humanity in His image. From the beginning, we see family is part of His design.

Deacon: It is within our families that we first encounter unconditional love that mirrors God’s own love for us all.

Priest: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Nancy: Amen. [softly] Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been- [exhales] a while since my last confession.

Priest: What is troubling you, my child?

Nancy: I’ve- fallen prey to my weakness for the same sex. I fear what I’ve done will ruin my family.

Priest: Have you struggled with this before?

Nancy: I’ve never really acted on it, until now.

Priest: How do you feel about what you’ve done?

Nancy: Guilt. Shame. Disgust.

Priest: My daughter, these emotions are a sign of your conscience at work. You have acted against your own values. You know these unnatural ways is not in accordance to God’s design. For your penance, I want you to spend time in prayer and consider the harm you’ve caused for yourself and for your soul.

-

Judith: Oh, brother. He said that?

Nancy: It’s nothing I’ve never heard before, growing up in the church and all.

Judith: You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?

Nancy: [scoffs] I cheated on my husband! That’s unforgivable, in any situation. If Geoffrey ever found out, he’d leave me. The boys would have to suffer through a divorce- a broken family. The media would eat us alive. And my mother, God, if she knew-

Judith: Oh, I am so sick of hearing about that old broad!

Nancy: I just need to put it behind me. Move on. I got it out of my system, so I have no reason to speak to Lily ever again. I’ll never think about another woman. I’ll be good. Normal.

Judith: What the hell is normal, anyway? If you’re abnormal, than so am I.

Nancy: [sighs] You’re not married or a mother.

Judith: Have you even allowed yourself a moment to revel in this?

Nancy: Why would I?

Judith: Because you finally gave yourself something you wanted. Put the shame and all those nasty feelings aside for a second and tell me about it.

Nancy: [groans] God, it felt so good. The sex yes, but there was something about her obeying everything I said that thrilled me. If I close my eyes now, I can still feel her teeth in my skin, her gasps when I squeezed her throat.

Judith: There.

Nancy: What? There what?

Judith: The real you. You pack her away so much that when you finally allow her to show, she shines.

Nancy: She frightens me..

Judith: Good! She’s a real bitch, and she’s ready for her debut! I want to see you at your brightest, darling. It’s when you’re the happiest.

Nancy: I don’t know if happiness was in the cards I was dealt.

Judith: I believe it is. And when it comes, bask in it, darling.

-

Jonathan: Move, Malcolm! I have the phone!

Malcolm: NO! Let me talk to mommy!

Nancy: Quit bickering, you two. Jonathan, let your brother speak too, please.

Malcolm: YEAH!

Jonathan: [groans] Fine! Mom, are you almost home? Will you be late again?

Nancy: I’ve just wrapped up my last client and I’ll be on my way.

Malcolm: Then we can look for a Christmas tree?!

Nancy: We sure can, my love. I’ll see you both very, very soon.

Jonathan: Promise?

Nancy: I promise. I love you both so much.

Assistant: Mrs. Landgraab, you have a guest asking for you in the lobby.

Nancy: [scoffs] You’re joking? No, no I can’t. Have them book an appointment. I’m leaving for the evening.

Assistant: I suggested that, but they refused to leave and insisted on seeing you.

Nancy: Oh, fucking hell.. fine. Page my driver to wait for me out front anyway. I’ll make this quick.

Nancy: [breathlessly] Vanessa.

Vanessa: Hello Nancy.

[sp0o0kylights]

Bullshit.

The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.

He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…

Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.

“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”

Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.

"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.

She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.

They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.

Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.

"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)

She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”

“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”

She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”

"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."

Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.

Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.

If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.

"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"

She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."

Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.

Or a different person entirely.

"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."

A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.

‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.

"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”

Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.

“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."

Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"

"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”

A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.

Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”

"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.

"I think so."

Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"

Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.

"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.

Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.

"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.

The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.

"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.

"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.

Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.

"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.

"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.

Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.

"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.

It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.

Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.

"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”

Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"

"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.

“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”

“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”

“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.

"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,

“It's not "

“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”

“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”

Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."

"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.

The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.

"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.

Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.

Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.

"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.

"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."

'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.

"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."

"You would cheer for me too?"

"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.

"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."

Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.

He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.

"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"

"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."

She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his

Munson, the ass, notices.

“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.

"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.

"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.

"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.

They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.

"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.

His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.

"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.

It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.

"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.

Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.

"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.

Steve gives him jazz hands in return.

"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.

It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.

It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)

"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."

Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."

It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.

"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.

Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.

Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.

"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.

"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."

He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.

Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.

She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"

"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.

Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.

That she wants to talk.

Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.

It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.

He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.

"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.

In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.

The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--

Except.

Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.

One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.

It's fine.

He's fine.

Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--

"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."

Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.

"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.

Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.

"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.

That too sharp smile is all for Steve.

He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.

He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.

He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.

Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.

Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.

'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.

Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.

Steve plants his feet anyway.

"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.

Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.

"You're full of shit."

Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.

Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.

It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.

Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'

Steve just glares him down.

The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.

"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.

"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.

The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.

Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.

"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"

Steve just scoffs.

"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"

Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.

"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.

"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.

She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."

Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"

It doesn't sound loving.

It sounds like a threat.

He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.

Eddie beats him there.

The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.

"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"

Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.

"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."

Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.

It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.

"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.

He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.

"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.

The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.

"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"

He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.

Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.

Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.

He refuses to put a name to it.

"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.

"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.

Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."

"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."

Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.

Prior to last year, he'd have been right.

Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.

Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.

Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.

"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.

"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.

Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.

"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.

"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.

"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.

Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.

Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.

The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.

Part Two

[ghosttotheparty]

saw this prompt @newgrangespirals @steddieas-shegoes; needed to write it but also i kind of derailed it bc my brain has a mind of its own and its focus is steddie so i apologize also on ao3

He’s met with silence. 

Eddie supposes Murray Bauman must only ever be met with silence after speaking; he doesn’t seem the type of man to hold an easy, casual conversation. Especially now. 

Even Argyle is silent, his fork stalled on its way to his mouth as he looks from Murray to Jonathan, whose face is red, then Nancy, who’s equally flushed. 

Eddie looks at the table, his vision blurring. His hands are shaking.

“Murray,” Joyce says in a lethally calm voice. Eddie had forgotten she was here. “Go.”

“What do you mean, go?” Murray says, his voice quieter like he’s starting to sense what he’s just done. “We’re in—“

“Murray,” Joyce snaps. Eddie flinches. His fingers are knotting with the hem of the tablecloth, his food uneaten on his plate. “Go. I will deal with you later.”

There’s a moment of quiet before Murray’s chair scrapes across the uneven tile floor, and his footsteps retreat. And then there’s silence again. Tense, tense silence. 

“Steve,” Nancy says quietly, and Eddie looks up at her, glaring even though she hasn’t done anything to him. Jonathan looks at her too, anxious. Joyce sips her water, her hand shaking, and Hopper has his head down, his face hidden in his hands. 

“I’m good,” Steve says shortly, and Eddie looks at him, his stomach flipping. Steve is smiling a little, but it’s an awful smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He pushes his plate away with a breath like he feels just as sick as Eddie does, and he nods, but he doesn’t look like he’s really here. “I’m…”

“Steve, it— it wasn’t—“

“You told him my name,” Steve snaps, looking at her across the table, his eyes wide. Nancy looks like she’s going to start crying, and Eddie finds that he really doesn’t care if she does. “And you still…”

He laughs. Dryly, humourlessly. Eddie feels like he might throw up. 

Steve closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he feels a migraine coming on, and he laughs again. 

“Steve—“ Jonathan tries to say, but Steve just holds his hands up, shaking his head. 

“I’m just…”

He pushes his plate farther away, moving his chair back with a loud scrape, and then he’s leaving too, going upstairs. Eddie watches him go, watches Robin get up to follow him before she deflates, seeing the way Steve gestures for her to stay, to leave him alone. Robin’s hands are shaking, and Eddie can practically feel the anger radiating from her. 

The silence is back after a door slams upstairs. 

Joyce sets her glass down loudly, and she puts her hands flat on the table next to her plate, taking a deep, shaky breath. Hopper says her name softly, but she holds a hand up, shushing him. 

“I have never…” she starts slowly, her voice shaking with anger. “I have never been more disappointed in my life.”

“Mom—”

“Jonathan,” Joyce snaps, fixing a look on him, and he falls quiet. “…I did not raise you to be the other man. And Nancy, I…” She puts her hands on the table again, taking a measured breath before she looks at Nancy. “I am not your mother, but I think I am well within my rights to say I’m disappointed in you, too.”

“Ms Byers—”

“I don’t want to hear a word out of either of you,” Joyce says calmly before she touches her face, rubbing her chin anxiously as she stares at her plate in front of her. Nobody is eating anymore. Eddie still feels sick, but he also feels like he’s blended into the wall, like everybody’s forgotten that he’s here at all.  He looks at the table, at the fraying tablecloth that’s clutched in his fingers. 

“Unbelievable,” Joyce mutters to herself. “I can’t…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Nancy takes a shuddering breath. She might be crying. 

“Eddie, dude.”

Eddie looks up, his eyes meeting Argyle’s. He’s looking over at Eddie anxiously, his head tilted a little bit, and as they look at each other, the others look at Eddie too. And suddenly he isn’t in the wall, but he’s the centrepiece of the table, the showstopper, the freak. 

It’s like they all remember what Murray said at the same time. 

“Eddie,” Joyce says, her voice softer than it was a moment ago. Kinder. Eddie looks at her. “Honey, if… if it is true. None of us have any problem with it.”

If it is true.

They all know it is. Eddie can tell just by looking at them that they all know. 

He feels so… small. Like he’s fifteen again. Like he’s new in high school, like he’s walking down the hallway and feeling all the stares, the eyes and eyes and eyes looking, watching, analysing, judging. Even though Joyce’s gaze is kind, and Hopper gives him a slight nod when their eyes meet. 

Eddie’s chest feels so tight he can’t breathe, each breath shallow and weak, and he’s kind of lightheaded, and he feels fucking nauseous. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat, his stomach churning, and he untangled his fingers from the tablecloth, taking a sharp breath. “Excuse me,” he says quickly, breathlessly, moving his chair back so fast it tips on the uneven tiles. He feels like he might pass out as he goes upstairs, hearing Argyle say something quietly behind him.

Upstairs feels even quiet than downstairs. Like every room could have an echo. 

Eddie finds a room that’s empty except for some cardboard boxes, and he shuts the door behind himself before he goes to the opposite side of the room, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to the wall. It’s cold. 

He’s breathing too fast, and his head feels light, like if his eyes were open his vision would be dark. He wraps his arms around himself tightly, squeezing as he exhales until he wheezes, until there’s nothing in his lungs, and then he inhales as slowly as he can. In, in, in, until he can’t anymore. He holds it. Exhales. Does it all over again. 

Until he can breathe without suffocating. 

He turns to rest his back on the wall, and he slides down to the floor, closing his eyes and pulling his knees to his chest, exhaling shakily. 

He’s never felt like this before. 

He feels so… lonely. 

He feels almost cold, even though sunlight is streaming through the window, beams of golden light glowing across the floor. 

He cries. Even though he tries not to. He can’t help it, and the tears are absorbed by the sleeves of his hoodie. 

Steve’s hoodie. Eddie hates that he’s wearing it, even though Steve brought it just for him. Even though Steve specifically made sure he brought a black one, even though it smells like Steve. Eddie hates that Murray noticed that it’s Steve’s. 

He stays there for a while. Until the sunlight dims. 

He only lifts his head when the door breaks open, and Steve’s voice says, “Eddie?”

Eddie stands quickly, wiping his face and sniffling as Steve finds him and shuts the door behind himself. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, his voice wavering. “You okay?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but his eyes are shining blankly. And Eddie aches. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Steve blinks at him, hesitating. 

“I kind of already knew,” he says like it’s a question. “I just…” He exhales, swallowing, and Eddie knows he’s talking about Nancy and Jonathan. It. “I, like, convinced myself I didn’t care? That it— it didn’t matter?” 

Eddie listens, leaning against the wall, watching Steve push his hair back anxiously. 

“I mean— the world was ending, who gives a shit if— if I get cheated on? It’s so fucking stupid.” He doesn’t seem to realize he’s even talking to Eddie. He’s just talking. Saying what he didn’t say downstairs. “But I’m so… Jesus. Hearing it out loud, like— like Murray was fucking proud, like it was funny, I’m just… I don’t know.”

Steve deflates, leaning against the door, looking at Eddie, and his eyes are shining. 

“Embarrassed?”

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“...I trusted them,” Steve says quietly, weakly. 

“You trusted them,” Eddie repeats. “What they did is their fault, Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong. Trusting them wasn’t wrong,” he adds adamantly, watching the way Steve’s eyes shine. “You thought they were— they were trustworthy. You didn’t know they’d do something like that.” 

Steve sniffs, looking at the floor. His cheeks are flushed, and Eddie hates himself for thinking he looks beautiful. 

“You have every right to feel hurt,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him. He swallows. “And to feel angry.”

“What about you?” Steve asks quietly after a moment. Eddie blinks. 

“What about me?” 

Steve looks at him. His eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s for a moment, intent and searching before he speaks. His voice is so soft. Kind. 

“He just outed you in front of all of us,” he says quietly. “You’re not angry?” 

Eddie blinks again. 

Steve looks at him so kindly. Eddie likes being looked at like this. Like Steve is listening to him even though he isn’t speaking. And Eddie realizes that Steve just knows, that he doesn’t question it. That he knows how Eddie is feeling, but is waiting for him to say it himself.

Eddie’s lip quivers, and he feels like a child again. 

“I…” He hesitates, taking a breath as a wave of nausea washes over him again. Steve just looks at him. “I’ve never come out to anyone,” he says weakly. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “I’ve never gotten the chance to. My— My dad found some zines in my room when I was fourteen, and I didn’t… I didn’t have to say anything.” His voice is shaking. He’s never told anyone about this, not even Jeff. “The only time I ever heard that man say anything about God was when he was trying to beat the queer out of me,” he says, laughing the way Steve laughed downstairs. Humorless. Almost hysterical. “And he— he called Wayne to tell him everything because he…” 

Eddie trails off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. 

“I told myself no one would ever know when Wayne took me in, but I swear it was like overnight, the whole town knew,” he chokes. “Because of— of my hair, or my clothes, or— or because people associate queerness with evil and— and Satanism, I don’t fucking know, but everyone knew and I…” 

He covers his face, his face hot with embarrassment as a sob escapes him, and it feels so stupid to be so upset right now, but Steve just waits patiently, listening and looking at him. 

“People keep taking it,” Eddie chokes, his face wet with tears now, looking at Steve desperately. “It’s mine, and people keep taking it from me.” 

Steve nods. 

And then he’s coming close and wrapping his arms around Eddie, and Eddie is crying into his shoulder, his hands clutching at Steve’s shirt the way they clutched at the tablecloth earlier, his fingers gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles ache. He’s shaking. But Steve’s hands feel steady as they run over his back, and Eddie wants to die. 

Because Murray told them to have sex. And Steve is still here, holding Eddie while he cries, even though he knows Eddie is gay, even though Murray told the whole table that Eddie likes Steve, that it’s so painfully obvious that he likes Steve. That he’s pining, yearning. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into Steve’s neck, his shoulders shaking as he sobs, and Steve moves a hand to hold the back of his head, his fingers pressing into Eddie’s curls to cradle his skull. And it’s almost fucking tender, and Eddie doesn’t know how he got here. Or where he’s going to go. 

Steve is murmuring to him. Quiet I got yous and It’s okays, his voice breathy and soft in Eddie’s ear. Eddie melts against him, and Steve holds him tightly, swaying with him, rubbing his back and scratching his fingertips over his scalp carefully the way he does when Eddie has nightmares. 

Eddie whines into his neck, choking on his breath, and Steve’s arm tightens around his waist like he’s preparing to catch Eddie if he falls. 

“I know,” he whispers softly. “It’s not fair.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

It’s not fair. 

It’s fucking bullshit. 

The whole world thinks it knows him better than he knows himself. Even if they’re fucking right. It’s not fair. He’s never gotten to speak for himself, never gotten to really introduce himself. 

He aches when he finally stops crying, his fingers relaxing but still holding Steve’s shirt loosely, and his hands are sore. Steve runs his hand through Eddie’s hair. He waits, holding Eddie close even though he isn’t crying anymore, touching him gently, kindly, as Eddie catches his breath. 

“You know what I’m angriest at?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, his voice weak and breaking from his crying. Steve touches his head again. 

“What?” Steve whispers. 

“...He’s fucking right.”

Steve is quiet. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn again. 

And then Steve is shifting, holding the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie blinks his eyes open to look at him. Steve looks into his eyes intently, and it’s almost too much, but Eddie can’t look away, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt. 

“About everything?” he whispers softly. Tentatively. 

Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes, and he nods. 

He feels sick again. He can’t breathe. 

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s face, and he’s so fucking warm. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheek so lightly Eddie can barely feel it. And Steve’s face relaxes, like he’s deflating, as he touches Eddie’s face, as his other hand presses into the small of his back. 

“I really fucking hate him,” Steve breathes. His eyes flicker across Eddie’s face, and they linger on Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whispers his name. Steve hesitates, stammering silently for a moment before, “Can you say it?”

Eddie steps back a little, and their hands fall even though they’re still close enough for Eddie to see the green in his eyes. 

“...Say what?” he asks hesitantly. Steve looks at him, his eyes shining, and he looks so desperate suddenly. 

“Everything,” he says breathlessly. “I wanna hear it from you.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, but Steve looks like he’s begging, and Eddie is weak. 

“I’m gay,” he says softly, whispering like he’s worried someone outside might hear. “And I…” He takes a breath. Steve’s eyes look back and forth between Eddie’s like he’s looking for it. “I have, like… a huge fucking crush on you.”

Steve’s eyes drop to Eddie’s mouth like he’s watching his lips form the words. Eddie is trembling. Steve suddenly feels like he’s across the room, like he’s far away even though they’re standing so close. 

“I might fucking be in love with you, Steve, I…” 

He chokes on his breath, and Steve is touching him again, reaching for his face and wiping away his tears carefully, stepping closer. Eddie’s hands find his waist, and he grips his shirt again. 

Steve says his name. 

It always sounds so nice in his mouth. 

“You don’t– You don’t have to,” Eddie says, trying to tear himself away, closing his eyes as Steve holds his face and wipes his tears. “I know, it’s…”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, his hands tightening on Eddie’s cheeks, and he’s so close now, their noses almost brushing. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

 Eddie’s eyes widen. He leans back to see Steve clearly, and Steve looks so nervous that Eddie aches. 

“Really?” Eddie asks weakly. 

“I…” Steve pauses, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and licking his lips, hesitating. “I might be fucking in love with you too,” he whispers. 

Eddie closes his eyes, exhaling as Steve strokes his cheeks again. He gasps for breath when Steve’s forehead touches his, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt before he slides his hands over his waist gently. He can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Steve asks again, his breath soft on Eddie’s face. 

“Yeah,” he chokes. 

Steve’s palms press to Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie’s hands clutch at Steve’s waist desperately when Steve’s nose nudges his, when their lips brush. He feels like he’s dying. 

But Steve kisses him so softly, so sweetly. Holding his face tenderly in his hands and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him, to check, even though Eddie is holding him against himself, even though Eddie’s chin lifts like he’s subconsciously searching for his mouth again. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and Steve is smiling at him. It’s such a soft smile, and Eddie forgets everything that’s happened today. Except Steve’s lips on his. 

“Please,” he breathes. Begs. Pleads. 

Steve kisses him again. One of his hands slides to hold the back of his head again, his fingers threading into Eddie’s curls, and his other shifts down to Eddie’s neck, his fingertips slipping under the hoodie as his thumb brushes over Eddie’s throat so lightly it tickles a little bit. Eddie’s hands press to Steve’s waist and slide to press into the small of his back, and he’s probably wrinkling the fabric of his shirt, but neither of them cares as they tilt their heads, as their lips part. 

They pull away to look at each other after a few moments, close enough that they’re sharing breaths as they both breathe hard, as Steve’s fingertips scratch over Eddie’s scalp lightly and Eddie’s eyelids flutter for a second. And then Steve is tilting his head and leaning down to kiss Eddie’s neck, his fingers twisting in his hair to hold him in place, and Eddie is dying, letting out a whimper as his eyes close and his hands reach for Steve’s arms. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his upper arms, squeezing as Steve presses a slow kiss under his ear. His mouth is so warm. 

Steve kisses him when he lifts his head, and Eddie kisses him back desperately, reaching to wrap his arms around his neck, whining when Steve’s hands find his waist and pull. 

Then Steve pushes, reaching up to hold the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie stumbles back, his fingers tangling in Steve’s hair and tugging when his back hits the wall.  Steve’s hand blocks his head from the wall, and Eddie smiles against his mouth, gasping when Steve’s tongue slips across his lip. 

“Steve,” he gasps, lightheaded as Steve sucks on his lower lip, as one of his hands slides under the hoodie to touch his skin. His palms are a little rough with calluses, scratching the sensitive scar tissue on Eddie’s waist lightly, and Eddie groans. 

Steve pulls away with a gasp, looking at Eddie desperately, frantically, his other hand holding his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his lips are shining, and his hair is a mess, and Eddie wantshimwantshimwantshim—

“Do you wanna leave?” Steve asks, his voice rough, and Eddie looks at his mouth, still panting. “I… I don’t wanna see any of them, I just…” He’s breathless too. His hand runs over Eddie’s scarring again almost mindlessly as his thumb brushes his cheek. “Do you wanna go?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. 

Steve smiles softly, his eyes shining at him, and he leans in to kiss him one more time, caressing his cheek. (Caressing. Jesus.) Eddie hums, savouring it before they part with a quiet, slick noise that seems to echo in the empty room. 

Eddie feels lightheaded again, but he’s smiling like he’s sleepy as Steve shifts his hands to press his chin up, smiling at how pliant Eddie is. Eddie laughs under his breath, his hands holding Steve’s shoulders. 

“I’m so fucking… relieved right now,” Eddie whispers, his head falling to rest on the wall behind him. Steve kisses him again before he pulls him close, hugging him tightly. 

Eddie buries his face in Steve’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly, wanting to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist, to cling to him like a koala, wanting to climb inside him, to be as close as fucking possible. Steve exhales roughly, pushing a hand into Eddie’s hair. 

Steve holds his hand as they leave, ignoring the others that are gathered in the living room, even though they’re clearly waiting for the two of them. Eddie lets the door slam shut behind them. Steve drives. Eddie reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently as he looks out the windows and watches the world go by. 

He’s kind of anxious about this, whatever it is. Anxious that he isn’t what Steve thinks he is, what Steve hopes he is, anxious that he isn’t enough for him. 

But he’ll try his best, he knows he will. He’ll bring Steve fucking flowers, he’ll write him fucking poems if it makes him smile. He’ll ravish him the way he deserves, touch him the way he likes, tell him every chance he gets how fucking beautiful he is. He’ll kiss him good morning and learn how to make his coffee just right. He’ll memorize the pattern of his moles and name constellations on his skin. 

He’ll remind him every single day, as long as Steve lets him have him, what he deserves. 

[emily-mooon]

I feel mad >:(