#not really but still steddie

[starshideurfics]

Captive, Captivating

into the steddie-verse, omegaverse, intense dubcon, we’re all in the same imperial rome/war prize gutter together, mdni 🔞

As the emperor’s brother, Geta should not be on this northern campaign, but he is curious of these barbarians and how they live without the bounty of the mediterranean. His tent is rather well-appointed besides, his own personal guard and servants setting up his bed, the furs and chairs, each time they move. He even has a small brazier to heat the tent against the cold night.

That doesn’t make his presence anymore reasonable, but as the only member of the imperial family amongst the generals and their legions, it means the greatest of the war prizes belong to him. Thus far, he has accumulated a beautifully made brooch inlaid with garnets, several gold torcs, a pair of fine horses, and one prince to ransom back to his father—that netted him gold and silver coins from many kingdoms, as well as a herd of goats.

But there hasn’t been anything new for weeks, and Geta thinks they are perhaps between barbarian kingdoms. The sun has set on another day, and he is reading over the report he is about to send back to Rome, when Junius enters the tent and makes his presence known.

“We’ve captured an intruder, your grace. Flavianus sniffed him out, and it sounds like his father is a king. Ricardius Spear-hand, if he’s to be believed.”

“And just what was the little prince up to?” Geta puts down his report, grinning. This is intriguing.

“Spilling wine urns and turning loose horses. But mostly spying. We found him outside the general’s tent. The fool rubbed himself in wild mint, but it wasn’t enough to dampen an omega’s scent.”

Geta burns hot at that, his own smoky scent blooming. He has questions, but more than that, he wants to meet this bold omega prince. “Bring him to me.”

“At once, your grace.”

Junius is barely gone a minute, clearly anticipating this request, bringing in a growling young man, stripped down to a loincloth to ensure he carries no weapons, his hands bound in front of him. His flesh is raised in a thousand tiny bumps at the chill of the night air, and his thick, dark hair hangs limp around his head, stringy with his own drying sweat. And his scent is sweet and yeasty like the honey beer the northern barbarians drink in place of wine.

“He claims to be Prince Stephanos, your grace. I don’t believe we have record that he’s an omega… Other than this.”

“Why do you insist upon changing my name?” the omega asks, voice harsh with his whining little growl. Geta has heard of northerners learning Latin, but he did not expect this prince to speak it so well.

“You are Stephanos, son of Ricardius, are you not?”

The boy frowns, looks away, and waits. Junius raises a questioning brow, which Geta answers with a wave of his hand and a soft, “Leave us.”

Junius bows and backs out of the tent.

Stepping closer, Geta grips the omega by the chin, and turns his head to face him. “I asked you a question, little prince.”

His hazel eyes flash with defiance, and he bites his lip so hard it bleeds. Then he takes a breath. “I am Stepan, son of Rikhardt Spear-Handed. As my father’s eldest child, I did my duty. Please, take your soldiers and leave my people be.”

Swiping his thumb over Stepan’s lip, smearing the blood, Geta wants so badly to taste. To bite. He resists, leaning in closer and whispering, “I am not here to conquer; that is my brother’s doing. I wish only to learn and see and experience what this world has to offer. I will be your willing student, sweet Stepan, but I shall also be your master. You have bought freedom for your people.” He withdraws his thumb and sucks it into his mouth, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, yet somehow sweeter than he expects.

The omega trembles, and Geta steps back to hive him space, eyes roving over his exposed body. His nipples are hard, pebbled along with his gooseflesh, and his small breasts are puffy, swollen like he’s near his heat.

“I will not take you tonight, so do not fear.” Geta circles him slowly, retrieving a length of soft, woven wool, and steps up behind him, arms wrapping the cloth around the omega’s shoulders. Stepan jolts at the touch, but doesn’t struggle as Geta holds him. “But you will be mine.” His right hand settles low on Stepan’s belly, presses firm. “Soon my pup will be here.” He sets his nose to the princeling’s neck, and Geta is sure he smells even sweeter as he inhales deeply. “Can tell your heat is coming, but maybe you’ll breed true before it can begin.”

He drops a single kiss over the warmth of Stepan’s mating gland, feels the flutter of his pulse. “But tonight we shall simply rest. Come, Stepan. Let’s to bed.”

🏛️🌙🌿

Stepan does not sleep that night, or if he does, it is a fitful sleep. But he has no hope of escape, his captor holding him tight from behind, trapping him in the bed beneath sheets softer than he has ever felt. And surely, the tent is well guarded.

He’s spent enough time awake, looking around the tent for anything he can use, either to incapacitate the roman, or if worst comes to worst…

He hopes it does not come to that.

Strong arms squeeze around his middle, a forehead presses into his shoulder, as the alpha wakes with a sighing hum. “Good morning, little prince.”

The mere thought of replying cordially locks his throat, but Stepan swallows and decides to get it over with; the words will only get easier with practice. “Did you sleep well, Dominus?”

“Best I’ve slept since coming north. How you can sleep in this cold I’ll never understand.”

“It is summer, Dominus?” How soft the romans must be to find a summer night cold. He wonders how his new master would handle traveling through the snow in winter.

“Yes, summer! The air should be hot and leave your skin sticky long after the sun sets!” His hold on Stepan changes, no longer a harsh grip, but one arm loose around his waist, the other snaking up so his hand cups one of Stepan’s breasts. “This is the first time I haven’t woken shivering.” He squeezes, kneading the soft flesh beneath his fingers, then pulls back just enough to grip the nipple between finger and thumb.

He pinches and pulls, and Stepan hates that it feels good. Stifling a moan, he brings his still loosely-bound hands up to grab the alpha’s wrist. “Dominus?”

“You are just so sweet and so warm,” he growls low in Stepan’s ear. Hand spread wide across his chest, moving with each shallow breath, he changes course. No orders to get on his hands and knees, no spreading of his legs, no hand pushing aside the cloth over his sex. Instead, he murmurs, “We shall meet with your father and his counsel today, to talk the terms of peace.”

“The terms being me. In your bed.”

“The terms being you. At my side. I am not looking for a mere bedwarmer, sweet Stepan.” He contradicts this entirely by kissing the side of his neck, sucking the salt from his skin. “You took a risk. It failed you, but now you have learned. And with my guidance you will learn more.”

Stepan’s mind races. He had been certain thot at best he would be a concubine; an omega to give this roman enough bastards to feel good about his virility when his high-born wife managed a sickly pup or two. He no longer thinks that is what his master has in mind. “Dominus?” he asks softly, wishing he could see his eyes now, even in the low light it would tell him more of what he means.

“Rome is a dangerous place. You and I shall need all our cunning when the army returns at the end of this campaign.” He relaxes his grip, finally, and rolls away just enough to make room for Stepan to roll onto his back.

His master smiles, wolf-like, and places a hand back over Stepan’s breastbone, holding him down with the lightest touch as he stares into his eyes. “Do not worry, my sweet omega, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you and our pups.”

“What pups, Dominus? We have done nothing to make any.” Stepan shivers under his dark gaze. “Besides, how can you be certain you won’t grow bored with me in a month’s time?”

“It will take far more than a month to do everything I want with you. Do not worry about my growing bored.” He leans down and takes a dusky nipple into his mouth, biting at the bud with gentled teeth.

Stepan pants, watches as the alpha removes his mouth, tongue lapping at tender skin. A hand reaches for his, working him free from the soft bonds at his wrists and casting the fabric aside. “But you are right; we’ve done nothing to make pups.” He reaches for the ties at Stepan’s waist, pulls them loose, and pushes the fabric aside. “We ought to get started now.”

He pushes off his own coverings, but Stepan does not look. If he doesn’t look, his body cannot lock up at the thought of the intrusion. He can relax enough to keep it from hurting. To keep from being torn apart.

His master has other plans for their coupling, catching up Stepan’s hand and wrapping it around the alpha’s half-hard cock. He guides Stepan in rubbing him to full hardness, tiny moans and soft praise falling from his lips, breath hot against his skin. “Good omega. Yes, touch just like that.”

Finally ready, he boxes Stepan in with his arms, and ruts first against his cunt, just enough wetness there to ease his way and coat his cock. “Even scared you smell so sweet,” he whispers, dipping to nose at his mating gland. “So sweet.” He shifts his hips, and the head of his cock nudges against Stepan’s entrance. He only waits a moment, long enough to whisper, “Deep breaths, my omega,” before thrusting forward.

Stepan gasps, is sure he is being split apart, and moans, “Dominus, please…”

“It will only hurt a little while. Your body will learn.” He stays buried inside, watching Stepan breathe, waiting for him to calm. Only then does he move his hips, picking up speed until he spills hot, his knot tying them fast.

Gathering Stepan to him, he rolls onto his side and holds him close, bringing one of Stepan’s legs over his hip, which opens his cunt enough to relieve a little bit of the pressure there. “Rest, my sweet. Once we untie, we shall bathe and eat. Then this afternoon we shall treat with your father.”

Stepan nods. He has done his duty. His people shall have peace.

part 2

[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 

How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 

His own plans be damned. 

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 

It was just---Nancy did know. 

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 

A third time for good measure. 

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 

 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents? 

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there. 

xXx 

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 

Then; “It gets worse.” 

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 

Steve stayed silent. 

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 

He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 

 They’d warned him. 

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 

Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 

No matter how long the engagement. 

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie��s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead. 

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 

Speaking of; 

 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 

Part Two

[fernandesart]

Remember when

[ahhrenata]

I’m having an ‘oh’ moment while you bandage my hand, man

MY THOUGHTS FOR THIS ONE ARE IN THE TAGS :)

[trashpocket]

platonic!stobin and what if: steve died in s3 and became a ghost to haunt robbie (and eddie can sometimes see n hear him too)

[artiststarme]

Eddie fucking hated driving. He didn’t like his life being at the mercy of the other idiots on the road and he certainly didn’t like having to follow all of the meaningless rules. If he wanted to speed or go through a stop sign with no one around, he’d damn well please, thank you very much.

He also didn’t like being trapped doing one thing for any period of time. It was hard for him to keep his eyes on the road and not pick at the skin on his fingers or fiddle with his rings. He wanted to get places without having to sit still and watch all the other idiots in cars on the way.

That’s why he fell in love with Steve the first time they went on a ride. Steve loved driving and the feeling of being free that came with it.

While Eddie didn’t like being the driver, he really did like being the passenger princess. He could hold Steve’s hand and fiddle with his fingers while he drove. He could air guitar and drumstick to Metallica even as Steve kept trying to turn the volume down. Best yet, he could road rage and flip people off when they tried to cut the Beemer off in traffic.

Dating Steve came with many benefits but the fact that he didn’t mind driving was the best by far (second only to the man’s kisses).

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

@mc-i-r is writing another version of this and tagged me and my brain woke up, so here ya go. This is almost all dialogue, and my new love for Mrs Buckley.

----

"Hey Steve-o! Get in here!" Robin yelled.

"Thought you were talking to your mom?" Steve shouted back.

"I am! That's why you have to come here! The cord won't reach!"

Steve hauled himself up from the corner of the kitchen where he was reorganizing things for the third time since they moved in last week. There was a pile of boxes they really needed to open in the hallway, and his mattress was still against the wall, but he kept going back to the kitchen, trying to make it work despite there being only one pull out drawer. One. They noticed before they signed the lease, but they both assumed they could make it work somehow if they just tried hard enough. But. Third time's the charm.

Flopping onto the thrifted couch next to his best friend, he leaned against her head, and greeted, "Hi Mrs Buckley, how are you?"

"Now why can't you answer the phone so politely, Robin? Who raised you to be so impolite?"

"Yeah, mom, I know you love Steve more than you love me, you tell me every time you talk to him, now can you say it again please?"

"Yes, well, like I was saying, I don't really know why they were all so upset about it, but I didn't want to overstep, so I didn't tell them anything. Not really. Only that you had moved and that you were fine. It's not like that's a secret. Then I noticed that they didn't know about that and so I didn't answer the rest of the questions, which really only made them more upset, but I think they were upset with me, not with the pair of you, so that's perfectly fine, none of them were nearly as vicious as Robin was when she was fifteen and decided she--"

"Mom!"

Steve giggled. Robin's rambling came from her mother, that was certain, and it was worse when they were on the phone. They fed on each other's talking. Like that snake thing.

"Right, yes. Well, Steve, like I told her, those boys, the ones you used to babysit for, they came around to ask if I knew where you were," Mrs Buckley finally said.

Robin grabbed his hand with the one not holding the phone, and pressed her forehead harder against his as they crowded the handset. Steve didn't think he'd reacted, but they didn't need anything as boring as a visible reaction to know each other.

"They said that they went into the video store and saw someone new at the desk, and when they heard that the two of you were no longer working there -- Apparently that manager of yours had some unpleasant words on the subject. You know I never liked him? The first time I stepped in there he asked me if I was still married? Not like that, of course, but it was still very strange. I didn't like it. And according to Robin he was always like that, wasn't he, Steven?"

"Yeah, he was pretty weird," Steve answered numbly.

"Well, that Keith fellow told them you were no longer employed there and that curly haired one demanded to know where you were employed. Since its not like he knew even if he would have told them, those boys went looking for themselves. I guess they went to your house first, Steven, and must have seen the for sale sign. I don't know what your parents are thinking, selling with the market like it is right now, but no one has ever made either of your parents listen to a single word of sense in their lives."

"Mom, the point?"

"Yes, sorry dear, like I told Robin, eventually it must have occurred to them that the two of you would be in the same place and thought to come by. Well. I say come by. First they called, and your father, you know how he is, simply said you were no longer in residence and hung up on them. He thinks he's so funny. Oh! Make sure you remember to call next Tuesday to congratulate him. It's his first day as the lead manager in the office. Oh no, wait, does it count as long distance for you? Never mind, I'll place the call so you don't have to worry about it."

"Mrs Buckley? You were saying something about Dustin?" He was proud that his voice was steady. They left Hawkins eleven days ago. They started packing two weeks before that. His parents put the house on the market around the same time. It wasn't until today that they noticed.

"Yes, that's the one. So Dustin didn't take your father's humor well, and he and his friends came by earlier this evening."

"Wait, evening?" Steve interrupted, "It was dark? They were biking around in the dark? In this weather?"

"Oh goodness no, that young man drove them. The one that was in the papers that the pair of you helped last year. He was much more polite than they were. Well, once I told them that you'd moved, they all started shouting over each other, I was sure that Ms Wickley was going to come over and scold them."

"I'm sorry, ma'am--"

"Oh you don't need to ma'am me Steven, I've told you that."

"Mom, he was just trying to be polite when he asked you to please get to the point, so can you, you know, try to get to the point some time tonight. You're paying for the call, but jeez."

"Oh yes. Well it occurred to me while they were all shouting that if they were your friends like they were saying, they would have known that you were moving. So when they managed to calm down enough I could hear a thing I said, I refused to tell them anything else. It's none of their business if you don't want it to be. And that Dustin boy said that you were his best friend, right in the same sentence he said he hadn't seen you in a month. But, I wasn't entirely sure if I was wrong about it, so I did promise I would ask you if you wanted me to pass on your information."

"Good job, mom, you finally got back to it. This is why I had you come over here, so you could hear that last part. I should have just asked you. Do you want my mom to give them our number or address or anything?" Robin had rolled her eyes over her mom's rambling, completely unaware she was just as terrible. But then she stared at him, concerned and outraged and protective and sad. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"Did they ask?" Steve said.

"Ask? I don't think a single one of them knows how to ask anything. They certainly shouted a lot of demands. If you don't want me to tell them, I have no complaints about being the villain in this story. After everything you've done for my girl, being there for her before she even told me, and now making sure she's safe from any kind of trouble up there, you're such a perfect - what was the - beard? I think that's what I saw in that article in that magazine. Oh, no, the Zine, I ordered. But even without all that, I'll happily shut the door in their faces every day for a year if that's what you want done."

Steve's next breath stuttered, and that was all Robin needed to see.

"Hang on mom, I'm going to put the phone down, don't hang up, we'll be back." She sat the handset on the couch, then dragged a throw blanket over it to muffle their voices completely.

"You okay there or do I need to make a snap decision about which is going to be our household's vomit bowl?" He pushed her shoulder half-heartedly. "Okay, yeah, we both know it's gonna be the one with the cow on it. But you okay there, Stevie?"

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"I'm fine."

She gasped, "You would lie to your soulmate? To her face?"

"I'm not! I'm fine! I just... I don't know, Robs."

Robin watched for a second as all of the muck of emotions bubbled inside him. Then she, as she always did, understood him.

"You want to say no. You want to tell her not to let them know where we are, but you're also freaking out because the brats come find you whenever It's back."

And because for a second, he desperately hoped that they missed him, or wanted to call so they could apologize for the last months. She didn't need to say that part. He half shrugged, sort of nodded, and bobbed his chin towards the throw blanket.

"You sure, Dingus?"

"Yeah."

"Is it gonna be Hopper or Joyce?" she faux wondered as she grabbed the phone from its prison. "Mom? Hi, back. Yeah, thank you. I'm gonna hand the phone to Steve now."

She didn't move away, but she didn't share the earpiece.

"Hi Mrs Buckley. I guess I -- could I ask a couple questions first?"

"Of course dear. What would you like to know?"

"Did any of them say anything weird or really specific?"

"Like what?"

"Like, about the mall, or last spring, or, bats, or uh, did they say anything about their dungeons and dragons game?"

"No. Why would they?"

Steve forced his shoulders to relax. El said it was done, but four years of it coming back meant he'd never fully trust that as true.

"No reason I guess."

"Well. That Munson boy did ask me about a radio right at the end. After the others stomped back to the driveway. He came back and he seemed - well he asked about a radio. And I said you certainly had a radio in your car, but I think he may have been talking about something else. Is that what you meant?"

"Okay, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I guess."

"So what would you like me to tell them next time I see one of them? If you'd like to take your time about it, you can. They were quite worked up about it, but it's a little ridiculous to act like they were owed something if they didn't even notice you two moving. You knocked over a stop sign with that rental truck."

Steve laughed. Couldn't help it. "I really can't wait, ma'am. They'll be back tomorrow morning to bother you." He gave Robin a look she immediately returned. Even without hearing the other half, she understood how true that was.

"Of course they won't, they have school," Mrs Buckley argued.

"Yeah, just means they'll be at your door even earlier."

"Well that's rude."

"Yeah, that's them. So, um. You can be rude back if you want. Don't, uh, you don't need to answer their questions. If you don't mind that they're not going to take it well."

Mrs Buckley laughed, loud and cackling for a moment, making the phone go staticky. "Oh dear, it would be my absolute pleasure to be rude right back to them. I'm much better at it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, you know Jim Hopper?" The resounding silence promised she was giving him the same judgemental look Robin was. "Sorry, that was dumb. But can you give him our number? Not to share with them, just so he has it. And, funny story about radios, but, the one that -- that that guy asked about is in your hall closet. Top shelf, next to the popcorn tin. Give Hopper that too?"

"Certainly, anything I should tell him, or should I ask to return the phone to my ridiculous child that you're generous enough to live with so I can say good night?"

For some reason, it made him think about the returns box at the store. A handle pulled open, the movie dropped inside, and nothing else needed. No one had to explain why they were giving back their copy of Breakfast Club. They had it for a while, hopefully they enjoyed it, and then when it was done, when they didn't need it anymore, or when it was overdue, when they kept it longer than they should have, costing them more money to keep around than it was worth, when they decided they were done with it, they didn't write a letter and explain why they--

"No. But, just. Tell him its for emergencies or something. Thank you, bye, or, goodnight ma'am, Mrs Buckley, uh, here's Robs. Bye."

He climbed off the couch as he shoved the phone at her, and headed for the window in his yet to be unpacked room. Rob would kill him in his sleep if he had a cigarette, but if he had any, he'd have taken the risk.

The glass was so cold it was painful against his forehead when he leaned into it, and he watched the little flurries of snow on the street kicked up by the wind. They didn't even notice for a few weeks. They'd quit Family Video a week before they left, and he knew the kids watched at least a few every weekend. They must have gone in, multiple times, and just, not noticed. Or not cared.

He wasn't sure which of those was worse.

He wasn't sure why it hurt when he made his peace with it weeks and weeks ago. It hadn't ached so vividly since the fall. Worst of all was the shock of concern for them, thinking they were out on their bikes in the dark and the snow. Then the relief that Eddie drove them. The feeling was huge enough to eclipse anything else until he knew they were safe.

Hadn't seen them in a month, barely seen them before that, and his first instinct was still to drop everything and grabs his keys. He was two hours away, and his brain was itchy to go drive by and check on them. They didn't need him to do that. They didn't want him to.

And based on how his stomach lurched when he heard that they didn't know he'd left, he didn't think it would do him any favors to go back. Hop and Joyce knew how to handle them if they started to do anything too risky, and the kids were practically glued to Eddie's side.

They weren't his to look after.

"Stop staring out the window like your lover is lost on the moors," Robin complained, wrapping him in a hug from behind.

"I have no idea what that means, Robs."

"Good, I'll explain it to you. Come on, lets go, we've got a kitchen to reorganize. I already started stuff for popcorn and hot chocolate. Lets gooooo, you're too heavy for me to carry, hup two."

Steve snorted and let her drag him away.

"I thought we were going to get my room set up, so I wouldn't have to share with you again?"

She gave him that look. That one that was fond and frustrated and sassy as shit. The one that said she wasn't going to let him get away with being dumb, but wasn't going to call him on it.

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. You can share with me for a while longer. Now do the hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream. We bought that can on sale and its going to go bad any second. Just use all of it. Directly into our mouths if we cant get it balance on the mug. Don't want to waste it, and we deserve it. I'm on popcorn duty, and then we're going to defeat this puzzle, Harrington. We outsmarted the Russians, we can outsmart the dishes!"

Shit. He sniffled as he followed her orders.

He was so damn grateful he still had her.

-----

Next>>

Still don't do tag lists. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[missjashin]

Okay we all know that Eddie was (is) a Garfield kid, based on the multiple Garfield mugs that we’ve seen hanging in the trailer.

But I am absolutely making Steve a Winnie the Pooh kid. Because just look at Christopher Robin and tell me that the little lonely polo shirt wearing boy is not the core of Steve Harrington.

Just look!

That is little Steve Harrington no question about it.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Stepbrother Eddie who just wanted to protect his innocent little brother and thought that no one would ever deserve his baby.

He’d chase off Steve’s new boyfriends and return home with bloody knuckles—a result of his wrath—because how dare they lay their dirty hands on Steve?

Every day, when Steve came back from school, he’d check Steve’s pretty cunt to make sure the omega hadn't let some random alphas take his virginity.

If it required him to use his tongue and fingers for a thorough inspection, then no one would be the wiser. And if he knotted Steve’s cute ass once or twice every time before he fell asleep with a purring omega in his arms, then it was a little secret between him and his baby.

In the end, Eddie was the one who took Steve’s virginity because no one could protect his omega better than him.

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

The thing about Eddie is that he’ll do things on impulse, often in a moment of unearned confidence and optimism.  Which is why last year he ordered a gross of Hellfire Club teeshirts.  One, he thought the word gross was both funny and appropriate, and two, he was sure at the time that the club would really catch on and grow like wildfire, so he’d need a lot.  Besides, they were cheaper by the dozen.

Which is why he still has over a hundred shirts in cardboard boxes under his bed.  Steve found them when he was searching for the lip balm stick he dropped on the floor when Eddie tackled him just for fun, and Eddie had to explain, and he felt sort of foolish about it.

“But they don’t all go to waste,” he said quickly.  “I’ve got so many I can wear one to school every day.  Promoting the club.” 

“Oh thank God,” said Steve.  “It wasn’t the same one all the time.  I used to think you must smell so bad, if you never washed it.”

“I guess at least you were thinking about me,” Eddie said, slightly miffed. 

“You were like a cartoon character always in the same outfit,” Steve mused, with a look of fond reminiscence.

“All that time I was suppressing my raging crush on you, and you were thinking I was like a smelly cartoon character?”

“A cute smelly cartoon character,” Steve assured him.  “I always noticed you were cute.  I just didn’t have the guts to do anything about it back then.  And hey!  I can help promote your club now.”  He pulled his polo shirt off over his head, causing a sudden bump in Eddie’s heart rate, then pulled on a Hellfire shirt.  “There we go,” he said, tugging it down and pushing a hand through his rumpled hair to restore it to its former glory.  “How’s it look?”

Eddie tackled him again, but with lips and tongue this time. 

[steddie-there]

Eddie notices it first at Dairy Queen.

It's the first time since leaving the hospital that he's been somewhere with the whole party that isn't Steve's house or the Hoppers-Byers cabin. The younger children crowd the counter, talking over each other as they count their money and decide what to get, while the older teens and adults hang at the back, looking at the menu. Then Erica steps over to Steve and says something Eddie can't quite make out. He nods, winds his way through the gremlins, and places his order. When his name is called, he picks up two cups of ice cream and hands one to Erica, who takes it with a smirk and a comment Eddie can't make out, although it has Steve laughing and shoving playfully at her shoulder.

Eddie turns then to look at the other kids but none of them even seem to notice that Steve has seemingly paid for Erica and not them. It's confusing because Eddie is sure Henderson, at least, would be kicking up a fuss about it. Not even Robin says anything.

But, then again, maybe Steve owes Erica money. Or he lost a bet. Eddie is aware how fierce the younger Sinclair is in collecting on her debts, having made the mistake once and once only of asking her to buy him a soda. So, if no one else is bothered, neither is he. He shrugs and enjoys his sundae.

But then it happens again the next week at Baskin Robbins.

And again two weeks later.

When the last ice cream truck left in Hawkins comes through Steve's neighborhood and the only one to get anything is Erica - at Steve's expense, of course - and the other kids don't even grumble beyond wishing they hadn't blown all their allowance at the arcade, Eddie decides he's had enough.

"Okay, what is it with this ice cream thing???" he bursts out as they all settle back down next to the pool.

The burble of conversation stops as everyone turns to look at him, then glance around at each other.

"What ice cream thing?" Mike finally asks, genuinely confused.

"What ice cream... the ice cream thing!" Eddie splutters. "The thing where Steve always buys Erica ice cream and none of the rest of you munchkins seem to care!"

There's a collective ohhhh of understanding, but Eddie is still completely in the dark. He gestures for someone to explain.

"It's because of Operation Child Endangerment," Dustin answers, casual, like it's a normal, non-question-inducing answer.

Eddie scrunches his brows together and lets out a confused bubble of sound at the same time that Steve buries his face in his hands and groans, "I thought we agreed not to call it that."

Erica laughs and wags her finger at him. "Uh, no. Just because you demanded we change it doesn't mean we agreed to."

"...little lost here. What's Operation Child Endangerment?" Eddie asks, glancing sideways at Steve. He can see, between his fingers, that the other boy's face has gone bright red.

Steve groans again and sinks forward to let his head hang by his knees.

And so Eddie finds out everything about the summer of '85 and Starcourt mall. He already knew the basics, but he's still fascinated. Horrified. Impressed.

He watches Steve through the whole retelling, jumbled as it is by the kids all interrupting each other to add something they thought was being forgotten, and feels his heart ache inside his chest for the beautiful boy across from him. Watches him hunch his shoulders when Erica explains the deal they made, the one that's got her free ice cream for life. Watches him puff up a little with pride when Dustin describes him knocking the Russian comms operator out cold. Watches him squeeze Robin's hand when she mentions the Russian torture and drugs. Watches him tug El into a hug when Jonathan talks about having to cut into her leg.

Eddie watches Steve - brave, loyal, loving Steve, who won't break a promise or a deal even after he most certainly could - laughing with their friends, taking their ribbing and teasing them in return, ruffling Dustin's hair and splashing Erica, almost starting a party-wide splash fight.

Eddie waits until everyone is distracted by Max chasing Lucas across the pool after his cannonball knocked her from her floaty, various advice being shouted to both, then moves to sit next to Steve on his pool chair.

"That was, uh, a lot," he says quietly.

Steve bites his lip, turns a little away from the chaos in and around the pool, although his eyes still track the chase, Max having almost cornered Lucas. "Yeah, yeah it was," he replies, just as quietly.

"Pretty impressive," Eddie tells him, knocking their shoulders together.

Steve shrugs. He snorts as Max finally catches Lucas and dunks him a couple times before they both dissolve into laughter.

Eddie bumps his shoulder again. "Seriously, dude, you gotta know how cool you are."

"I guess," Steve says, still not looking at Eddie, fidgeting with his hands instead.

Eddie thinks he knows what thoughts might be running around inside Steve's head, so he puts a hand over Steve's. The jittery motions still under his touch. "Hey, you got them out of there. You didn't know what you were walking into and you all got out alive. I call that pretty badass."

Steve finally turns to him. The look in his eyes makes Eddie want to pull Steve close, hold him until that look disappears. But he doesn't, just squeezes Steve's fingers.

The corner of Steve's mouth ticks up, just a little. "Thanks, Eddie." He looks like he might say more, but suddenly Dustin lets out a whoop and they both turn to the pool. Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Argyle have started a game of chicken, Nancy on Jonathan's shoulders and Robin on Argyle's.

They watch, laughing, as the girls wrestle until they both go tumbling into the water together and come up spluttering. Steve's head is thrown back, his shoulders are shaking with giggles and Eddie feels a grin stretch across his face.

He leans forward to rest his chin on Steve's shoulder, his hand still over Steve's, a teasing tone in his voice when he says, "So, hey, I was wondering. What would it take for me to get free ice cream for life from Steve Harrington?"

Steve turns his head and Eddie pulls back so they can look at each other. And that's all they do for a long moment, Eddie's breathing speeding up when Steve's gaze drops to his lips.

But all Steve does is turn his hand in Eddie's grip, so he can tangle their fingers together. He squeezes Eddie's hand, then stands, grinning, tugging Eddie up with him.

"C'mon," Steve says, pulling Eddie over to the pool before jumping in with a splash. Eddie ducks away from the water, grinning like a fool. When he catches Erica's knowing smirk, he just shrugs helplessly and follows Steve in.

Maybe he owes Erica some free ice cream, too.

[samgelina-jolie]

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

--

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

--

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

--

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

--

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

--

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

--

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

[libraryofgage]

A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (you're here!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) (I also have plans for this one actually they just need to simmer a little lmao)

Hi welcome back to my Mummy Crossover where Steve's parents are Rick and Evelyn O'Connell this took forever bcuz the words didn't want to word correctly lmao

Anyway, here we are! Some interactions, some more insight on all of Steve's talents, a teensy bit of chaos killed before it could flourish. What more could you want?

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

--------

"Breathe in."

Steve slowly inhales, keeping his chest and arms steady.

"Now pull as you breathe out."

Steve steadily exhales, squeezing the trigger as he does, and feeling the gun kick in his hand. Several yards away, a tin can that's little more than a speck in the distance topples to the ground.

Before Steve can realize his aim was good, the gun is plucked from his hand and he's lifted into the air. Weightlessness overwhelms him, and he shrieks with delight as he falls back into his father's arms. "That's my boy!" his father says, tossing him into the air again.

"Oh, do be careful, Rick. He broke an arm the last time you threw him around like that," Steve's mother says, a proud smile tugging at her lips despite her words.

Steve finds himself safely held in his father's arms a second later, his heart racing and his breaths short from exhilaration. "Again! Again!" he shouts, looking up at his father hopefully.

"Sorry, kiddo, you heard your mother," his father says, messing up Steve's hair before lifting him onto his shoulders. Steve grips his father's hair tightly, grinning as his father jogs over to the tin can. "You'll be able to shoot running in no time."

"Am I gonna be as good as you?" Steve asks, leaning over his father's head. "How long will that take?"

"You'll be better than me, Steve. It'll take a few years, though. At least one hundred."

"One hundred?! I'm gonna be bones by then! Dust and bones!"

"Nah, you'll be fine," his father says, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'll be dead!"

"In my experience, the dead don't make a habit of staying that way."

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, pinching his father's cheeks and tugging on them until he laughs, grabs Steve's hand, and playfully bites his fingers. Steve shrieks again, laughing as he tugs his hand away and yanks on a few strands of his father's hair for revenge.

------

Steve, Max, and Eddie get discharged within days of each other, and even though Steve was expecting his house to be invaded by his friends, he still finds himself wishing he'd had a few more days with his parents before everyone showed up and started interrogating him. In fact, he almost considers ignoring the doorbell when it rings the day after Max is discharged.

"Steve!" Rick shouts, his voice carrying all the way from his carefully maintained weapons room. "Can you get that?"

"Can't put it off any longer," Robin says, grinning at him from her spot on the couch. She stretches out her leg and nudges Steve's thigh, urging him to get up.

He sighs, pushing himself off the couch and grimacing at the slight tug on his sides. "Got it," he calls back, walking to the door and bracing himself before opening it.

The porch is packed with his friends, Dustin and Eddie at the very front. "Finally!" Dustin says, pushing past Steve to get into the house.

Everyone else streams in after him, and Steve ends up just holding the door. "Yeah, welcome in, make yourselves at home, thanks so much for calling before showing up," he mutters, closing the door after the final person, Will, has walked inside.

He follows after them, relieved they filter into the living room instead of heading to the kitchen. Uncle Jonathan has been in there all day, trying his hand at a new gin brewing technique that makes Steve's head spin just thinking about it.

Steve flops onto the couch next to Robin, dropping his head onto her shoulder. Dustin looks ready to speak, and Steve is ready to pretend he's listening, when his mother walks into the room. She looks around with a concerned frown, her fingers covering her mouth and tapping against her lips. "Steve," she says, her voice slightly distracted, "dónde está el machete de tu papá?"

"En el garaje," he replies, waving off her thanks.

"You speak Spanish?" Max asks, glancing at Evelyn as she walks past her to reach the garage.

"I speak several languages," Steve tells her. He feels the couch shift next to him and looks over to see Will scooting over to make room for Eddie. "Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic, Egyptian, French, Greek, a little Urdu, but that one is rusty."

"Holy shit," Mike says, staring at Steve like he's shapeshifted into an alien, "you're smart?!"

"Wait, is that how you guys cracked the Russian code so quickly?" Dustin asks. "Why did you make Robin learn Russian if you already knew it?"

"I didn't make Robin do anything. She started learning while I called a guy I know who can speak Russian. He only managed to get back to me the same day Robin got the whole thing translated."

"You know a guy who can speak Russian?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve when he glances over.

Steve shrugs. "I know a lot of guys who know a lot of things. I met all of them while traveling with my parents," he explains.

"Where have you been?" Will asks.

"Every continent except Antarctica. More places than I can count, actually."

"Why did you travel so much?" El asks, her gaze drifting toward the mantle where several of his mother's souvenirs are carefully arranged. "Did those come from your travels?"

"I followed my parents while they worked until high school. And yeah, those are souvenirs, you can pick them up, but be careful."

As though the lack of permission was the only thing holding her back, Max jumps up and hurries over to the mantle, pulling down a small jar and turning it over in her hands. Its lid is shaped like the head of Anubis, and Steve is just realizing what she's picked up when his father walks into the room.

Rick stops, stares at the jar in Max's hand, and then marches over to her, a man on a mission. He swipes the jar, ignoring Max's shout in protest, and looks it over carefully. His expression becomes disbelieving, fond, and annoyed all at once. "Evie!" he shouts, turning around and about to go looking for her when she appears in the doorway.

"No need to shout, dear, I was just in the other room," she says, smiling until she sees the jar he's holding.

Her expression says it all, but Rick still holds the jar up, smiles sweetly at her, and asks lightly, "Evie, darling, is this what I think it is?"

"Well," Evelyn says, rolling her shoulders back in a way that tells Steve they're about to argue. And then start kissing like nobody's around. "It very well might be."

"What is it?" Dustin asks, sliding closer to get a better look at the jar when Rick holds it higher.

"Really, Evie? Did you forget the part where these things are cursed? Did you completely forget what happened to the Americans who touched these?"

"Aren't you American?" Max asks.

"And aren't you touching it?" Erica adds.

"It's certainly not cursed anymore," Evelyn says, walking over and easily plucking the jar from Rick's hands. She looks it over, idly brushing off some of the dust. "Imhotep is thoroughly dead. You made sure of that, dear."

"I'm sorry, did she say cursed?" Mike asks.

"Yes," El says.

As Evelyn and Rick stare each other down, Steve sighs and drops his head on the back of the couch. "It's a jar used in ancient Egypt to store the organs of mummies. That one specifically belonged to Imhotep, a mummy with a curse. He ate people and tried to sacrifice my mom to bring his girlfriend back and killed a bunch of Americans in the process. But Mom and Dad defeated him, like, twice and he hasn't been a problem since, so Mom is pretty sure he's gone for good now."

"There is no way any of that is true," Max says, huffing as Rick takes the jar back before Evelyn can even think of letting Max look at it again. "I mean, seriously? Mummies?"

"Oh, inter-dimensional monsters are perfectly believable, but mummies are a step too far?" Steve asks.

"Inter-dimensional monsters?" Evelyn asks, whirling around on Steve and placing her hands on her hips.

"So that's where he gets it from," Eddie says, his voice soft and more than a little amused.

Before Steve can comment on that (or try to kick Eddie from where he's sitting on the couch), his father moves to stand next to his mother, arms crossed over his chest with a stern look and still holding the jar. "Wanna share with the class, kid?" he asks.

Steve grimaces, knowing that tone of voice and sinking a little lower on the couch. "Not really, no. Most of the class is already in the loop."

"Humor us," his mother says, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.

"Gee," Erica says, shifting closer to the doorway, "I'm suddenly feeling pretty hungry. Anyone else wanna go loot the kitchen?"

"I'm in," Max says, hurrying across the room in long strides.

"So are we," Mike adds, grabbing Will's hand and dragging him along before he can get caught up in whatever shit storm might occur. Lucas quickly follows after, flashing an apologetic smile at Steve once he's behind Evelyn and Rick.

They've all disappeared before Steve can warn them about Jonathan's gin experiments, but he figures they deserve to have their nostrils burned from the smell for abandoning him.

Only Steve, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and El are left with Steve's parents frowning and looking at them expectantly. Steve manages to hold out under their stare for a few seconds before he sighs, sits up straight, and waves for them to sit in the loveseat perpendicular to the couch.

Once they're settled, he glances at Dustin, gets a shrug in return, and rolls his eyes. Robin places a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention to flash a grin and say, "Good luck, dingus. Just know I'll be thoroughly entertained by the end of this."

"Gee. Thanks."

Eddie snorts, settles back into the couch, and helpfully offers, "I mean, it can't be worse than being the main course of a demobat feast, right?"

"Oh, I assure you," Evelyn says, her eyes narrowing, "it certainly can."

"Oh, damn," Eddie says, shaking his head, "What do you want on your tombstone, Stevie?"

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin laughs and high-fives Eddie. He ignores them for now, secretly grateful for the lighter feeling in his chest that their joking has given him, and looks at his parents. "I guess it started with Will's disappearance."

-------

Tag List (there should be room still! So, if you'd like a tag, let me know!)

@trueghostqueen, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @mogami13, @blcksh33p1987, @beawritingbooks, @remus-is-trans, @your-confused-friend, @estrellami-1, @nburkhardt, @vacantwatchers, @yeahhhh-suga, @phantomcat94

@blackpanzy, @ape31, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @plantzzsandpencilzzs, @flustratedcas, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @just-a-tiny-void, @disrespectedgoatman, @fallingleavesinthewind, @nymime, @nectandra, @moomkin77, @nadenia, @resident-disappointment, @copper-arrows, @romanticdestruction, @rowanshadow26

[rogueddie]

My favourite thing about Steve and Robin is that if you asked the people they knew in high school to guess anything about them, they'd get it wrong.

Which one is femme? People would assume Robin, she's the girl, but NO! Steve is just a little gorl. He loves his pastels and frills and probably would wear a kilt as an excuse to wear a skirt.

Which one is dating a girl? People would assume Steve, he was the school slut, but NO! He is in a long term relationship with Eddie and Robin is the local girl kisser.

Which one is bitchy? People would assume Steve, he is the former mean girl but NO! It's BOTH OF THEM!

[grandwretch]

been thinking a lot about those hcs about steve bullying eddie and i'm pretty sure the math just does not check out on any level

like okay so first of all, steve absolutely would not be bullying someone older than him in his freshman and sophomore years, especially because in the way puberty hits teen boys, there is no way eddie wasn't probably taller and bigger than him in those years.

and like, yeah, he was more of an asshole in his junior year, but he was only a junior for four months before the demogorgon. so that means that everything you want steve to be responsible for vis a vis eddie's trauma has to be within that four months.

it's especially egregious when the only person we actually see steve bully is jonathan, who is a sophomore at the time. a sophomore who kicked steve's ass, btw. which probably means steve wasn't physically bullying seniors and escaping unscathed.

also it seems to be an equally popular trope that steve bullied gareth and gareth hates steve the most out of all eddie's friends, which is like... okay, gareth is, i think, a junior at the time of s4? which means he would have been a freshman in steve's junior year. which, yeah, sets him in steve's prime bullying demographic, but can i just remind everyone that steve wasn't even with that crowd for his entire first semester of junior year?

it seems incredibly unlikely that gareth got bullied by steve personally in fall '83 and then held on to that grudge for the rest of high school, especially after seeing firsthand steve's fall from popularity and then spending almost a whole year in school without him.