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little-annie · 3 months ago

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Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.

Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.

From that, this idea was born.

Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham

It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.

Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence.

But then it kept happening.

Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.

It sounded like torture.

Like the stripping of flesh and bones.

But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.

Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.

She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.

A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.

This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy.

Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.

The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky.

Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.

“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.

God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.

Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”

She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.

Original Ducky = Someone is horny.

Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform.

Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.

Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.

Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”

So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.

Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.

“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”

“Like that show with the sex mug?”

“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly

Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.

First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.

They think they're subtle, but really they're not.

It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.

Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma.

This one though, makes her wonder.

Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.

She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”

“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”

Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”

Feminization maybe?

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks

“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”

Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”

What?

“Course it is.”

“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.

It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.

“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”

No.

No?

Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”

Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…

“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”

Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?

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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 2 years ago

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you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

#in this universe eddie munson co-wrote tolerate it #i know what song they wrote together but I’m keeping it to myself lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson

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steddielations · 1 year ago

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pre s4, Steve is Eddie’s queer awakening

A sudden burst of radio static buzzes from somewhere. While it startles the shit out of Eddie, Steve just yawns and fishes out a walkie talkie from the inside pocket of his jacket lining.

A kid’s voice cuts through when Steve raises the antenna, followed by a jumble of frantic code words.

Steve tonelessly replies, “Yeah, yeah. It’s probably nothing, dude, just like the last 5 times you had a hunch … Okay I’ll come check it out … No, don’t touch it … Fine, say goodbye to your fingers first in case it really is radioactive goo … Yeah I always have the bat.” Which may as well have been code language for how much it baffles Eddie.

“What do you need a radio for?”

Steve shrugs, shoving it back inside his jacket. “Uh, you know, babysitting business.”

Right, Jesus, Eddie still can’t process the whole babysitter thing. But Steve’s being purposely cryptic for some reason and Eddie knows he should back off but his curiosity is getting the better of him.

“Who’s Henderson?”

Steve snorts, “A pain in my ass and soon to be yours. Enjoy it while you can.”

Okay, less cryptic, so it’s one of the nerdy kids he mentioned, the future Hellfire prospects. “What’s Code Yellow?” Or radioactive goo?! And why does he always have ‘The’ bat?!

“Probably nothing, you know, kid’s imagination,” Steve hums, getting to his feet, “But I’m gonna check it out, don’t worry your pretty head.”

Pre-pre-pre… Pretty?

It’s just a saying. It’s just a saying. It’s just a saying.

Read on Ao3

#hear me out #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #rueswriting #steve harrington #steddie fic rec #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

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thefreakandthehair · 9 months ago

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we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoy <3 #also the song really lends a vibe to this and it's one of my favs so consider this a music rec too lmao

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months ago

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Hey everyone! It is that time again where we need (hopefully several!) more Writer’s Spotlight Nominations!! If you have an author you admire or want to learn more about, please nominate them here. We have enough for a few weeks, but it takes time for the authors to write their answers and compile the information needed for the spotlights!

Thank you all for your support!!

#call for nominations #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #writer's spotlight #steddie fanfiction

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travelingtwentysomething · 2 months ago

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sombersynth · 2 years ago

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STEDDIE FANFICTION REC MASTERPOST PT. 6

Red Eye by Alinafewwords, 65 k, teen “Can I get a hot, medium dirty chai?” “How dirty do you want it?” “Excuse me?” Steve Harrington is a struggling college student. Eddie Munson is a hot barista. Somehow things will work out.

Black Out Days (Fairground Nights) by OonionChiver, 139.1 k, explicit ‘I think,’ Steve says slowly, reaches for Eddie’s abandoned, untouched beers. ‘You don’t know me very well.’ ‘I don’t know you at all, man. I don’t really want to.’ Steve’s throat works. It’s subtle, but Eddie sees it. He hides it with a swig of beer, but when he sets it down, his smile isn’t quite so bright. Twice as sharp, though. ‘The self-centred asshole who can only be decent to a single human being, I get it. It works for you.’ Then he takes a thick, heavy breath. The alcohol is hitting him, Eddie can tell. ‘And I am being civil. I’m here, aren’t I? You have any idea how hard it is for me to be here?’ ‘In a bar?’ Steve doesn’t answer.

It’ll be Fine by Dusk Light (I’m Telling You, Baby) by Anonymous, 14k, teen The van is running, Steve realizes, and Eddie wouldn’t start it if he was just coming out to smoke. It sobers him up almost immediately. “You leaving?” Eddie gives him a smile, sad around the edges where it reaches his eyes, says, “Yeah,” and Steve knows he doesn’t just mean for tonight.

This is Your Home. These Are Your People. by Oaeas, 21.4 k, teen “Your heart’s racing,” Steve noted, quietly. Eddie laughed. It was more of a shaky exhale, lashes fluttering as he struggled to keep his composure. “Stevie,” he whispered, fingers cradling Steve’s side like he was precious. “Yeah, no fucking shit.”

Too Good to be True by Ayes, 45.3 k, explicit When Eddie sees Steve in a gay bar, he decides to seduce him and break his heart as revenge for what an asshole Steve was in high school. Steve, who was only at the bar to support Robin, is taken aback by the attention but finds himself under Eddie’s spell. And Eddie, to his growing unease, discovers that Steve Harrington is actually everything he’s ever wanted.

Sanctuary by SpicedSage, 47.5 k, explicit After Steve Harrington goes missing, Eddie Munson gets exposed to the secret dangers of Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 instead of 1986. Will a different first meeting lead to a change in his fate?

Dirtybadwronggood by 3MinsOver, 8.3k explicit Steve doesn't like Eddie Munson. He's a loud, obnoxious freak. But there's something about him he just can't shake. Maybe Eddie can fuck it out of him.

Everything is Doomed; Nothing Will be Spared by 4MinsOver, 10.3 k, explicit Post vecna-battle, eddie is surprised by a late-night visitor who's looking for comfort in all the wrong places.

Throw Me One by Adure, 41.9 k, explicit Steve and Eddie are friends with benefits with the important caveat - no kissing, ever, under any circumstances; modern AU

Every Ribbon That You Used to Tie Yourself to Me by Judasofsuburbia, 63.7 k, mature “You keep telling yourself that, Eds." “Eds?” “Cute, isn’t it?” Eddie’s breath stops and his chest tightens. He’s never had a friend give him a nickname before. It is cute, which is not cool to say, so of course, Eddie spits out, “No.” Steve smiles and leans forward right into Eddie’s ear. He whispers, “You’ll get used to it.” or: it's summer 1981 and wayne munson has sent a fourteen-year-old eddie to camp in hopes that he can exist like a regular kid for once. eddie meets steve harrington on the bus and the two start an unlikely friendship. hawkins high doesn't know how to deal with that. a supercut into eddie's high school years and how steve continues to orbit him whether he wants him to or not.

Lovesick in Loch Nora by Redoaktree, 62.6 k, mature Even though Eddie's name has been cleared legally, he's still very much on trial in the court of public opinion. Dealing drugs isn't a lucrative occupation anymore, and getting a legitimate job in a town who still considers him a killer isn't much of an option, either. Eddie is beginning to think skipping town and starting over somewhere no one knows his name is the only chance he has left. Steve has another idea. AKA: Steve gets Eddie a job as an anonymous columnist at a local newspaper.

STEVE'S FIRST BRUISE by Cairparavels, 47.2 k, not rated eddie’s new roommate sure does get into a lot of fights. a spider-man!steve story. or 6 bruises of steve’s + 1 of eddie’s.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfic recs #steddie fanfiction recs #steddie angst #steve x eddie #steve x eddie fic #my fic recs

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becomingfoxes · 10 months ago

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Happy Friday! 💛

Here are some of my favorite 5+1 Things fics 💖

Link

Podfic link

#friday fic recs #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic

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saquesha13 · 2 months ago

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A quick Steddie fic rec, easily my most re-read number one favorite Steddie fanfiction ever written. Eddie and Steve are spot on in this one, two oblivious idiots with smut, fluff and more smut. I just re-read this one for the fifth time this year.

Excatly What It Looks Like by BilbosMom on Ao3.

Summary: Steve makes a face at Eddie. “You've imagined doing stuff with a guy?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie replies, spreading his hands wide. “Doesn't everyone?”

“Yeah, that's true,” Steve answers, nodding. “I wonder why everybody acts like it's so gross, though.”

In the summer of 1986, Steve and Eddie have some perfectly normal fun between a couple of perfectly normal dudes.

Rated: Explicit

Chapters: Six, Completed.

Words: 31,517

#exactly what it looks like #steddie ao3 #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfiction rev #steddie recs #steddie fandom #steve and eddie fanfiction #steve and eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my favorite fanfic #stranger things #i’m obsessed #they are everything #they are in love #i’m screaming

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little-annie · 1 year ago

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Watching You Fall in Love (is My Greatest Achievement)

Steddie Fic | Wayne POV | Little_Annie | Ao3

---

"You love him don't you?" Wayne whispers, breathy, quiet, his voice cracking around the edges of something that feels like raw emotion.

It's then that Eddie turns his gaze away from Steve to look at him, the light never fading from his eyes and the smile never wiping from his face.

Steve's sitting on the trailer floor, in the middle of the living room, Eddie's clothes hanging from his body as he flips through one of Eddie's many monster manuals. Wayne knows the boy would never admit it, but he's just as interested in D&D as the other kids. He's helping Eddie plan his next campaign for christ sake.

Next to Wayne, two cans of coke in hand and a love struck smile on his face, Eddie nods, his cheeks darkening as his smile ever so slightly fades. "Is that okay?" He asks, looking all the bit nervous as his eyes roam Wayne's face.

"More than okay Son."

Eddie's smile brightens once again and if Wayne notices the small amount of tears welling in his eyes, he says nothing about.

"You ever going to tell him?" Wayne continues, nodding in Steve's direction, the boy still oblivious to the conversation being whispered behind his back.

"I don't know if I can."

Wayne says nothing to Eddie's reply as he watches the boy return to the living room where he sits down next to his best friend. Steve smiling bright as the sun upon Eddie's return.

—

Months go by and Wayne gets to watch as Steve falls too. It's there and so obvious to anyone but Eddie.

His eyes linger and his smile never fades. Soon Wayne sees as he sits a little closer and his cheeks grow a little darker.

There's moments when Wayne catches what he can only describe as a love struck expression across Steve's face. Eddie's talking, because when is he not, and Steve's there, eyes wide and locked onto Eddie's ever changing expression.

He looks fond. Fond in a way Wayne's never seen anyone look at his nephew.

There's moments when he sees Steve hesitant. Moments when he and Eddie are so close and Steve's hand twitches like it wants to reach out. Moments when Steve looks like he wants to lean in but bites his lip and turns away with rosy cheeks.

—

It's nearly a year into their friendship when Steve's standing at Wayne's side and whispers, "I think I love him."

"Tell him," Wayne answers easily, leaving out the 'please' he so desperately wants to tack onto the end of that sentence.

Please, he thinks again as he watches Eddie turn to face them from across the yard, a smile so beautiful Wayne thinks it's the first time he's seen it on Eddie's face. The boy's elbow deep in his van as his cheeks grow a little pinker as he says with a smile, "Stevie come here for a sec."

Steve leaves, but not before whispering back to Wayne, "I think I will."

—

No more than a week later Wayne comes home to find the boys on the couch, Steve sleeping and curled into Eddie's side, snoring with his nose pressed to Eddie's neck.

Wayne offers his boy a smile as he stirs from the sound of the door closing. He looks tired, arms tightening around Steve's waist as he smiles back and burrows closer, kissing the top of Steve's head before drifting back off.

—

"He loves me," Eddie says one evening, weeks down the road, a rare occasion when Steve isn't over and Eddie's actually home.

Wayne smiles, his heart so warm and full as he says, "I know."

—

Steve's been over for a few weeks now. Part of Wayne's convinced he's moved in, what with the new additions to their fridge and bathroom vanity. The idea doesn't upset him in the least.

He's gotten to witness their love grow during that time anyway.

He's gotten to witness the way Steve kisses a grumpy Eddie good morning until he finally smiles.

Or the way Eddie lights up when Steve's arms wrap around his waist and he whispers an "I love you Eds," that Wayne isn't sure if he's supposed to hear.

Or the way they giggle and kiss and love one another in such a beautiful and uninhibited way.

Granted too, sometimes that means Wayne's hears a bit too much. Eddie would be mortified to know there's been far too many occasions in which Wayne's had to leave the trailer to escape the gasping breaths that occasionally pour out from under his bedroom door.

Though this time, Wayne's inside as the boys are on the roof smoking and he thanks the lord above that all he can hear are the faintest of whispers.

There's only parts of the conversation that he catches, but his heart swells when he hears Eddie's voice so clearly say, "I'm gonna marry you someday Steve Harrington."

—

Wayne cries the day Eddie shows him the ring.

And cries even harder when Steve shows him his.

Steve's hand is shaking where the single golden band lies on his ring finger, Eddie standing directly behind him, arm around his waist with a smile that matches Steve's in the way it resembles Sunshine.

They can't marry, not legally anyways. But that doesn't stop Jim Hopper from officiating a ceremony or Joyce Byers from walking Steve down the aisle.

The backyard to Hoppers cabin is filled with faces Wayne has grown familiar with over the years. Young and old, smiling and crying all the same.

Dustin and Robin both write speeches, both as rambling and as funny as they are beautifully heart wrenching.

There's not a dry eye in the house.

—

The boys move into an apartment where they build a life together.

Wayne visits often for meals or a cup of coffee in the mornings, still delighting in the way his Eddie seems so wonderfully overcome with love and affection.

He'd thought he'd shed enough tears for his lifetime at the wedding, but one evening, sat at the table with Robin Buckley and his boys, Wayne finds out he's gonna be a grandpa.

Elaine Birdie Munson is her name.

Sunshine, they call her instead.

---

Ao3⤵️

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fic rec #strangerthings #stranger things fic rec #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #eddie x steve #eddie munson #steve harrington #uncle wayne #wayne munson #uncle wayne pov #supportive uncle wayne #steddie fandom #steddie fluff

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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 2 years ago

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i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.

kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be all right, three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

Steve’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He’s technically not supposed to have it on the floor, but it’s 9:30 on a Wednesday night and the store’s dead anyway.

Eddie 🎸👎: date’s a dud engage emergency protocol immediately 🚨🚨🚨

Steve rolls his eyes and clicks the little phone icon near Eddie’s name.

“Hello?” Eddie manages to sound both confused and concerned.

“Help, help,” Steve deadpans, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I’m having an emergency that only you can help me with.” Steve’s done this enough times in the three years they’ve lived together to know that Eddie can think up his own lie to tell his date.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right there, Steve.”

Steve’s not sure how Eddie manages to make it sound so convincing every time, but it’s enough that even Steve might start to believe it if he wasn’t the one calling.

Eddie hangs up without saying goodbye, probably to tell his date some exaggerated story about how Steve’s fallen in the shower or fell off a ladder. Somehow, all Eddie’s emergency scenarios involve Steve hurting himself in increasingly embarrassing ways.

By the time Steve’s got the store tidied and closed and walked the four blocks to their apartment, Robin and Eddie are already on the couch in the living room. Steve can hear them bickering over what to watch from the front hallway as he slips off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He follows the sound of their voices to find them practically wrestling over the remote.

“Jesus, can’t leave you two alone for more than five minutes. You’re worse than the kids,” Steve says as he makes his way across the room and into the kitchen for a bag of chips. It wasn’t the healthiest dinner, but he was too exhausted to cook.

“There’s leftovers from the diner in the fridge,” Eddie calls out to him, not even missing a beat as he pries the remote from Robin’s white-knuckled grip.

“You took leftovers on a first date?” Robin asks him, appalled, as if it’s the most unheard of thing Eddie’s ever said.

Steve’s popping the styrofoam container into their tiny microwave as Eddie tells her, “It was a second date for your information.” He puts on an episode of Ghost Adventures without asking anyone’s input.

“Wow, someone made it past your rigorous first date interview? Shocker.” Robin crosses her arms and huffs in annoyance, because she was also going to put on Ghost Adventures but it’s the principle of the thing. You just don’t take a woman’s remote from her, under any circumstance.

“Hey, it’s imperative for me to suss out a potential partner’s commitment to the music gods,” Eddie says.

“‘Potential partners’?” Robin scoffs. “I thought you said you were in your slut era?”

“Well,” Eddie seems to lose his footing here. “I am. But I can’t be fucking anyone who listens to Tame Impala.”

“Steve listens to Tame Impala.”

Steve has made it back into the living room in time to see the blush rise on Eddie’s cheeks.

“Good thing I’m not fucking Steve then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, good thing.” Even Steve can hear the eye roll in Robin’s voice.

Because the thing was…

Okay, so the thing is…

The long and short of it is that they’re not fucking.

But they’re also, like. Not not fucking.

It’s just that sometimes, after a horrible date or a stressful day or even just when they’re feeling incredibly horny, the apartment can feel kind of lonely, even with two roommates. So. They… do stuff. Together. No penetration, but. Yeah. Enough for it to be called ‘fucking,’ probably. At least Steve thinks so.

But they haven’t told Robin. They’re both pretty sure she suspects. She’s not a fucking idiot and Steve thinks someone living under the same roof as Steve and Eddie would have to be in order to be that oblivious. Steve’s pretty sure she’s been trying to get one or the other of them to confess, but they’ve held strong so far. It’s not that they were hiding it, exactly. It was just that, whenever this thing inevitably came to an end or imploded on them both, they didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone. At least that was what Steve was thinking, because it’s not like they actually talk about it.

Neither of them say anything else, so Steve makes an attempt to change the subject.

“So what did you tell your date this time?” He asks Eddie before shoveling a forkful of reheated pasta into his own mouth.

Eddie smirks. “I told him you cut off the tip of your finger with your crafting scissors while you were scrapbooking and then passed out from the sight of the blood and hit your head on the corner of the coffee table.”

Steve pauses with his fork halfway between the takeout container and his mouth.

“I thought these emergencies were supposed to be believable.”

“I’ve literally walked in on you scrapbooking multiple times, Stevie,” Eddie says it like he’s stating the obvious.

“I could never cut through my fingers with my crafting scissors.”

“Oh, that’s what you take issue with about that lame-ass scenario?” Robin scoffs again.

“There’s nothing wrong with scrapbooking,” Steve says defensively.

“Didn’t say there was,” Robin mutters, turning her attention back to the TV. “Can you guys shut up now? I’m trying to watch my stories.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shares a look with Eddie before doing as Robin says and shutting the fuck up. He drops down into the lone armchair to finish his leftover diner food, attention fixed on the television. He thinks he can feel it every time Eddie’s eyes dart over to look at him.

~*~

Later, after Eddie’s snuck into his bed around one a.m. and they’re laying there next to each other in the afterglow, Steve asks, “So the date really sucked?”

Eddie sighs. “I mean, he was nice and all, but there just wasn’t any, like… chemistry or whatever. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Steve responds, his voice low. Steve hadn’t been on a date in months, hadn’t felt the usual impulse to flirt with strangers incessantly. Robin kept saying he was in a lull or a slump or something, but Steve does start to feel lonely sometimes, especially when Robin is out with her girlfriend and Eddie has a date and he’s left to his own devices in their shared apartment. Even though, more often than not lately, Eddie’s dates almost always end in “emergency protocol” and the two of them wind up tangled in Steve’s sheets. Steve can’t help but think that it’s only a matter of time before all of this comes to an end, before Eddie finds someone who’s perfect for him.

Someone who isn’t Steve.

~*~

Three days later, Steve and Eddie wake up to the blaring honk of Steve’s alarm, wrapped around each other. Steve can’t help but notice the way Eddie looks when he’s just woken up, soft and rumpled, hair a tangled mess on top of his head.

“Ugh, make it stop,” Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Steve slams his hand down on his alarm clock and flops back onto his pillows, even though he really should be getting up for work. He wraps a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck before dropping a kiss to his forehead and pulling him back to lie against his chest.

“Don’t wanna get up yet,” Steve mutters, eyes falling shut again. The blankets are warm and soft and the weight of Eddie on his chest is enough to have him drifting back into sleep.

Eddie doesn’t let him though. Instead, he plants his palm on Steve’s chest and pushes himself upright, making Steve groan in dissatisfaction.

“Gotta get up, dude,” Eddie tells him, yawning and climbing out from under the covers to pull on his discarded sleep pants. “Got, like, seven engines to fix today. Something about spring, man, everyone’s car starts to break down.” Eddie pulls his t-shirt over his head before opening Steve’s door and sticking his head out, making sure the coast is clear.

Eddie leaves the door slightly open and crosses back to Steve’s bed, planting a kiss on Steve’s cheek, like he just can’t help himself.

“Won’t get off until late and then I have a date, so keep your phone at the ready,” Eddie smiles when he says it and Steve wants to trace his dimples with his tongue.

“Coming home first?”

“Nah, just gonna shower at the gym next door,” Eddie stretches. “See ya later, Stevie.” And then he’s out the door and slipping quickly into his own room down the hall.

Steve doesn’t like the way Eddie’s bedroom door sounds as it clicks shut.

~*~

Steve has the early shift at the store, so when he gets home in the late afternoon with two bags of groceries, he’s got the apartment to himself. Robin’s spending her weekend off with Vickie and Eddie’s still at work before heading off to his date.

Steve puts his groceries away, makes himself an early dinner, and then positions himself in front of the TV. He puts his phone face up on the coffee table, so he’ll see it when Eddie texts him to get out of his date.

He gets lost in the Real Housewives of Wherever for hours before he remembers he’s supposed to be keeping an eye on his phone. He taps the screen and sees there are no notifications. That’s weird. It’s already well past nine; Eddie usually texts by now for a rescue.

Steve sits back on the couch, eyes on his phone where it sits on the coffee table in front of him. He watches it for a few long moments, willing it to ring.

It doesn’t.

~*~

Hours later, Steve wakes up to the front door slamming shut. His face feels plastered to the leather of their second-hand couch. He knows it’s Eddie coming through the door because he’s the only one of them that lets it slam when it closes.

Steve reaches for his phone, still on the coffee table where he’s left it. He taps the screen and sees that it’s already after two in the morning. Eddie comes into the living room and seems surprised to see him on the couch.

“You’re still up?” He asks, eyebrows pulling together.

“You didn’t call,” Steve tries to make it sound casual, but even he hears the accusation in his own voice.

“Uh yeah. No. He was, uh. Kinda cool, actually,” Eddie smiles to himself and it looks so soft and sweet in the dim light of TV. Steve feels his chest go hollow seeing it. He swallows.

“Well,” Steve clears his throat. “That’s great.”

“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks. Steve’s not sure if he means hang out or hang out, but either way, Steve can’t bring himself to say yes.

“Nah.” He yawns. “Early shift tomorrow.” It’s a lie, but who can blame him?

Steve gets up off the couch and crosses the room before Eddie can say anything.

“Oh, sure,” Eddie mutters as Steve brushes past him on his way into the hallway. “Goodnight, Stevie.”

Steve feels his throat constrict, like he might cry if Eddie says anything else. He clears his throat again. “‘Night,” he returns, before he shuts his bedroom door behind him.

~*~

Steve stews in it for a couple of days. He’s annoyed and grumpy and even Robin starts avoiding him after he snaps at her one too many times for no reason. He’s avoiding Eddie, but he suspects that Eddie is also avoiding him.

Which is absurd. It’s not like Steve changed the rules. He’s not the one who changed their routine. Who went on a date with someone else and enjoyed it.

That thought gives Steve pause because that’s not what this is, is it? He’s aware that he’s not very good at keeping his emotions out of his sex life. He knows he gets too attached too soon. But Eddie is his friend. You’re supposed to have emotions for your friends. You’re supposed to hate everyone they date. You’re supposed to want to spend all your time with them. Right?

Fuck. Fuck. Steve is maybe out of his depth here.

By Tuesday night, he has no choice but to go to Robin.

“I fucked up,” he says without preamble, walking into her room without knocking and flopping face first onto her unmade bed. She just watches him from where she sits at her desk in front of her laptop. Eddie has a late night band practice after work, so they’ve got the place to themselves.

“Yeah, how?” She asks.

“I… am not sure. But I feel bad.” Steve is practically whining at this point.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting mad at me?” Robin’s tone is cautious in a way that it hardly ever is with Steve.

“When do I ever get mad?” Steve scowls at her, the side of his face smooshed into her pillow so he can see her.

“Gee, I wonder.” Robin rolls her eyes. “You’ve been testy since Saturday, babe.”

Steve huffs but it’s not like he can deny it, exactly.

“Whatever, I’m in a bad mood,” he grumbles, picking at a thread on her comforter.

“Yeah, and why do you think that is?” Robin’s question sounds decidedly pointed.

“I dunno. Full moon or something. Something’s in retrograde, probably.”

Robin sighs. “Look, I’m going to say something to you and I want you to just listen and synthesize the information, okay? Just shut up.” Steve grunts and Robin clearly takes that for assent. “I think that you’re in love with Eddie.”

She says it so matter-of-factly that Steve sits straight up on her bed so he can look at her fully. His eyes dart to her open door. “What?” He practically spits out.

Robin rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I know I’m not supposed to know about the… whatever you want to call it. But you guys aren’t exactly subtle. Or quiet.” Steve’s jaw falls open. “I know you’ve been fooling around for months. And you haven’t had to figure out your feelings for each other because you haven’t been dating at all and every date Eddie’s been on he’s sabotaged himself. And now he’s had a great date and you’re feeling threatened, obviously. You’re jealous, Steve.”

Steve just looks at her for a moment, before saying, “I actually hate you so much.” He looks back over toward her open door. “Did he say it was a great date?”

“Ugh, you’re pathetic.” Robin balls up a piece of paper and throws it at him, before turning serious. “Just tell him, Stevie. I’m pretty sure he’s into you just as much as you’re into him. You should see the way he stares at your ass when he thinks no one’s looking. It’s truly disgusting.”

Steve throws the ball of paper back at Robin, hitting her squarely in her forehead.

~*~

Steve locks himself in his room for the rest of the night, obsessing over what Robin has told him. He tosses and turns all night thinking about it. He’s vaguely aware of the door slamming as Eddie comes in from band practice around midnight and he thinks that maybe Eddie might linger just a little longer outside Steve’s door, but he doesn’t knock. Just pauses before he moves on to his own room.

Steve wakes up late the next morning. He has to rush through his morning routine and by the time he makes it to the kitchen for breakfast, both Robin and Eddie have left for the day. Luckily, Steve has a midday shift, so he has a bit of time before he has to leave for the store. He leans against the counter, spooning cereal into his mouth. As he places his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink to clean after work, his eyes get caught on the whiteboard they have hanging on the fridge.

Second date tonight, keep phone handy -E

Steve feels his heart start beating fast, almost erratically. His fingertips go numb. He licks his lips and leaves the kitchen, slipping on his shoes and jacket and leaving for work.

~*~

Steve comes home to an empty apartment. Robin has some study group and Eddie has his date. Steve can’t help but feel a little depressed as he walks through the door to nothing but quiet.

He makes himself dinner. He puts something on the television. He places his phone face-up on the coffee table, just in case.

It doesn’t light up with a notification until well after nine. It’s a phone call. From Eddie.

Steve fumbles his phone as he lunges to pick it up.

“Hey,” he says into his phone’s speaker. “Thought you had a date.”

“Yeah,” Steve can tell Eddie’s smiling, even though he can’t see him. “Was wondering if you had some kind of emergency to tell me about?”

“Um.” Steve is confused. This isn’t the normal script. He’s supposed to call Eddie. Not the other way around. “I don’t. Know? I mean. Yeah. I… need you?”

“On my way, Stevie.” And then he hangs up.

~*~

Steve’s paused the TV and is sitting on the living room couch in silence by the time he hears the door slam shut. He looks up as Eddie walks into the room.

“Hey,” Eddie greets him, voice low. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, been… busy.” Steve inwardly cringes at how he sounds, knows it’s a lame excuse, because Eddie knows him. He knows why he hasn’t seen Steve.

“Right,” Eddie smirks. “So… can we talk?”

“Sure, whatever.” Steve tries to sound casual, thinks he misses it by about a mile.

Eddie sits in the armchair instead of next to Steve on the couch. Steve tries not to take it as an insult.

“I was on a really good date tonight, Stevie,” Eddie tells him, voice soft and slow, like he’s breaking bad news to Steve. Steve’s heart clenches in chest, hard and painful. He nods, eyes on everything but Eddie. “He was cool and funny and actually had good taste in music.” Steve’s not exactly sure he really needs to hear this. “But…”

Steve feels a small flutter of hope in the pit of his stomach. “But?” He prompts, still not looking at Eddie.

“But.” Steve can tell from his tone that Eddie’s smiling again, that same smile he’d heard on the phone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About sitting here watching dumb reality shows with your arm around me. Waiting for your call even though I hadn’t texted you.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Eddie’s. He licks his lips. “What.” He doesn’t say it like a question.

“I wanted to be with you, Stevie. Always wanna be with you.” Eddie looks nervous now. He pulls at a rip in his jeans. “Do you… what do you think about that?”

“I, uh.” Steve’s mouth is suddenly dry, voice just a little hoarse. “I think it’s… good.”

“Good?” Eddie snorts. “You think it’s good? Gonna need a little more here, Steve.” Eddie still looks a little nervous, but his smile is starting to form again.

“Yeah, like. Really good.” Steve licks his lips again. “I always wanna be with you, too,” he adds softly.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and he sounds vulnerable in a way that Steve’s never really heard before. He’s fully smiling again, small and soft, like maybe he can’t believe his luck.

Steve smiles back at him. “Yeah.”

And then they don’t say anything at all. Eddie crosses the small space between them and tackles Steve back against the couch. Their lips meet, soft at first. Then Steve let’s out a moan, opens his mouth under Eddie’s and the kisses turn decidedly less soft and more horny.

~*~

The next morning, Steve’s phone dings on his bedside table. He reaches over to read the screen.

Queen Robbie✨💕: love that u guys have figured ur shit out, but can we work out a system or something? i heard u [redacted] and then [redacted] and also [redacted]

Steve smiles before dropping his phone back on his bedside table and turning over in his bed. He pulls a sleeping Eddie into his arms and drops a tiny kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie lets out a sleepy little moan. Steve could get used to waking up like this every morning.

———

An anonymous benefactor gifted me with lyrics from “Paper Rings” and here is what I’ve done with them.

Just two things: 1. I have never seen Ghost Adventures, but I imagine it would be one of the only shows both Robin and Eddie could agree on and 2. I have never listened to Tame Impala, I know nothing abt the music (beyond the fact that it’s just one guy??? see, I am hip and cool, gen z), so this is not intentional slander, I promise!!! It’s just the first thing I thought of.

Oh ETA: I also know nothing abt cars or what mechanics do, I assume they sometimes fix engines.

#steddie #MUTUALLY PINING FWBS IS MY NEW FAVORITE TROPE IM SO SERIOUS #idiots in love #steddie fic #steve harrington #idiots to lovers #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie fic recs #taylor inspired steddie

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