#steddie break up fic

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 13

Part 12

Last Time: Eddie and Dustin finally have it out

cws: portrayals of addiction and graphic description of stomach pumping (i've added a red line to mark the stomach-pumping section if you'd like to skip it; all you need to know is Eddie feels deep shame about his former addiction problems and how it's impacted his relationship with his family. It's his rock bottom.)

~~~

There’s a knock at the front door, the sounds of shuffling in the foyer filter downstairs to the studio where Eddie’s perched on the blue velvet couch. If someone’s here it certainly isn’t for him, so he pays it no mind.  

He catches the first stint of a conversation before he slips his headphones on, picks up his guitar, and sets his notes on the small table in front of him. Which is how he misses Dustin calling for him, and the door to the studio opening, and the sound of someone’s voice behind him, before there’s a hand on his shoulder.

He jerks violently, but manages to keep hold of the guitar in his lap. Since he almost smashed his beloved acoustic to pieces the last time Dustin snuck up on him a few days ago, Eddie’s taken to practicing on the couch when he knows Dustin’s home. It’s saved him in quite a few scenarios now.

“Jesus christ, Dustin,” he shouts as he pulls the headphones down around his neck, “you scared the shit–” the rest of the sentence lodges itself in his throat when he looks up to find a mess of shaggy black hair and large, dark brown eyes coldly staring down at him.

“‘Scared the shit out of you?’ That’s pretty ironic,” Mike says, an indifferent tone contrasted against the nervous bounce of his heel, hands fisted and tucked into the sleeves of his oversized light blue sweatshirt. The string ties are frayed at the ends from where they’ve been chewed on and Eddie notices the neck has a slit cut into it where the fabric of the hood comes together. 

Will’s sweatshirt, if he had to guess. A small comfort Mike can hold onto for what Eddie assumes is going to be a difficult fucking conversation.

He’s sure he looks like a fish with the way his mouth soundlessly moves in a frantic search for the right thing to say. Mike grows impatient and starts to aimlessly wander the studio. Eddie can only watch as he takes it all in. 

Metal Munson’s red and black Warlock hangs on the wall next to the black Flying V, and Eddie can’t help the sense of detachment that overcomes him at their presence. He grips the neck of his acoustic like a lifeline. 

It was the very first thing Eddie ever bought for himself with his own money, when he was just a fifteen year old with a stash of petty drug money in the back of his sock drawer. 

He sees the moment Mike clocks it in his hands. Guilt sits heavy on his chest when the lines around Mike’s eyes soften a fraction before shuttering again.

“Dustin wasn’t lying then,” Mike asks, averting eye contact, “you really are using the acoustic.”

He should put it back onto its stand next to his stool, except it feels like a shield, a weighted blanket. Eddie can’t let the guitar go, and Mike can’t stop glancing at it. Yet Eddie’s not sure he has the strength to answer Mike’s question, it’s so horribly personal. Not just to himself, but between the two of them. So like the coward he is, he changes the subject.

“What do you mean ‘ironic’?” He clears his throat, nervous with anticipation.

“Well you’ve been scaring the shit out of me for over a year, so it’s about time it’s the other way around.” Mike snaps. “Do you know how many times I thought you’d died? Sitting up all night watching your live streams at some insane party, fucked out of your mind, and then calling you for days with no answer?”

He wants to look away from the hurt masked behind his brother’s seething glare, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows he’s staring. So much has changed since the last time he’s seen Mike in person that it almost feels wrong how he looks almost exactly the same. Mike’s a father now, but still just looks like Mike. 

Part of Eddie’s glad for it, something familiar to hold onto in the middle of the chaos. Except that’s ripped from him when Mike hurls his next question, full of grief and laced with venom.

“Were you high,” Mike asks, “when we called and introduced you to Jayden?”

His gut twists as Mike does his best to hide the crack in his voice. His lip is wobbling, and Eddie notices his eyes turn glassy.

Eddie vividly remembers meeting his nephew, just a tiny toddler wrapped in a dinosaur onesie. He’s never seen such a smiley kid, laughing and giggling at all of Eddie’s silly faces. It was the first time in months he’d had the chance to talk to Mike without it becoming a fight. They were still awkward, don’t get him wrong. But between the kid and Will, it went fairly smooth.

Unfortunately, the reason he remembers the conversation so well is because of how ungodly sick he felt. 

He’d ditched his personal phone earlier in the week, on another bender and sick of everyone calling him. Eddie spent the entire night before strung out, looking for love in all the wrong places– a typical night for a bender. But the universe must’ve felt he deserved a small win. 

Eddie had pulled out his phone to message one of his many hookups when he’d noticed he had his personal cell. There were seven missed calls from Mike, fifteen texts, and one voicemail.

“No, but–” Eddie sighs, drags his hand down his face– “I was hungover.” Mike huffs and rolls his eyes. Eddie cuts in before the kid works himself up again. “That doesn’t mean I don’t remember every second of it. I know this is a shit excuse, and I’m not expecting any slack, but I don’t remember much of anything from the past year.”

He wrings his hands, twists the rings on his fingers as Mike continues to stare, waiting for him to keep going. It seems therapy really has done wonders for him, Eddie thinks. Mike’s keeping himself in check, and Eddie can see the deep breaths he’s been taking to stop himself from snapping. 

“I didn’t get your message until the night before and I panicked. I knew how important it was to you– how important meeting him was to me. Except, god I was so fucked up, Mike, I–” shame clogs his throat as the heat behind his eyes burns for relief.

A gentle hand on his shoulder makes him jump, and Mike’s leaning down, tilting his own head up under the curtain of Eddie’s hair to look at him. Shame forces Eddie to turn away, undeserving of someone like Mike to keep looking up at him after all of the bullshit Eddie’s put him through.

“Eddie, I’m not a kid anymore,” Mike says, a pleading edge to his voice. “I’ve been begging you to talk to me– so don’t stop now. Tell someone, anyone, if you don’t want it to be me. But you can’t– you can’t keep this shit to yourself anymore. 

“I know you think you’re all alone, everyone on Steve’s side and no one’s on yours. But that’s selfish as fuck, and a pity party if I’ve ever seen one, Eddie, because I’ve always been here. I’m your family first. So just fucking talk to me!”

He’s tried so hard to keep his shit to himself, to keep it together, to focus on how he’s fucked up their lives– to keep the story off himself. But Mike’s words, upon words, upon words, heave themselves onto Eddie and pile high until he’s crushed under the weight of expectations, excuses, accusations, and more and more disappointment from his family.

And Eddie breaks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I tried to pump my own stomach, Mike! Is that what you want to hear?” Eddie screams, finally setting the guitar down next to him so he can pace the room to avoid whatever look Mike is giving him. 

The words flow out of him, buried for so long that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. “I don’t remember where I was, or who I was with, or how I got home. But I remember choking that fucking tube down my throat and trying to pour the water myself, spilled the shit all over the floor, could barely reach the top. Hell, I even considered hooking it up to the sink and just turning it on full blast.” 

Tears run down his face. His hands are clammy with nervous sweat, and he wipes them vigorously on the new sweats Dustin bought him. 

They’re black and fuzzy and Dustin had laughed when Eddie tried them on, saying he looked like half of a gorilla. But they were soft, and Dustin had bought them for him because he knows Eddie likes soft things, knows he likes black, and because Dustin was thinking about him when Eddie felt like no one did. 

But looking at these stupid, ugly, seriously comfortable pants, and really listening to Mike, maybe he’s not as alone as he feels. So he falls back to the couch, grips his hands into the soft plush of his legs, and cries.

“I woke up to vomit all over the floor, but it was the first time in almost three weeks I was even close to sober. My manager hired someone to clean the bathroom, sent a discreet doctor– someone who’d been dealing with my shit for a while. I had to angle the phone just right so you couldn’t see the IV they hooked me to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hides his head in his hands and he feels Mike sit next to him. That night will haunt him the rest of his life, but it was the moment he decided to sober up. While Eddie was out every night, wasting away in some club or a strange bed, his family was living their life. Kids, jobs, marriages, things were happening– and he realized they were happening with or without him around.

Maybe it was a pity party, like Mike said. Eddie always made himself out to be the outcast– the bastard, the queer, the metalhead. It was easier to be Metal Munson than to just be Eddie, to fall into the cliche asshole pseudo-personality he’d concocted. 

There were always missed calls and unanswered text messages, and each one was just another weight of guilt on his conscience. But after his phone call with Mike, meeting his baby nephew, Eddie realized each one was an invitation to come home, to be Eddie Munson again. 

Even though he’d done everything he could to force Mike to give up on him, he never left Eddie behind. 

There’s a head on his shoulder and arms wrapped around him. Eddie leans into it, Mike not faltering at the added weight against him. It’s been so long since he’s had someone in his corner that it’s a bit overwhelming. And although he knows Mike only came by to have it out with him, he’s glad for this moment.

Eddie moves his hands away from his face to awkwardly hug back, Mike hugging him from the side while Eddie attempts to grab any part of Mike he can reach. 

“That sounds awful,” Mike chokes out, words stilted and carefully chosen. “But I’m glad you’re ok, and I’m happy you’re here. I just–” he pauses, but when Eddie pulls away to look at him, Mike holds him firmly in place and says– “I just wish you would stay.”

He’s transported back in time, a loud and angry sixteen year old kid who wore too much black and refused to go to church, packing a bag to get the hell out of town. Whether it was a trailer park or a house in the suburbs, Eddie never felt like he had a home, so he’d run away and find his own.

He turned around to grab his guitar, only to see it gripped tight in Mike’s small hands. Eddie watched as he reverently turned it over. Mike had constantly asked Eddie for lessons, but he’d always had an excuse not to. He knew that’s what Mike was going to ask before the kid could even open his mouth. 

Mike looked up at him, wide-eyed and smiling when he noticed the half-full bag of clothes open on Eddie’s bed.

And for the first time since Mike had begged him for lessons, Eddie dreaded coming up with an excuse. Hurt scrawled across the boy’s face, and he proceeded to pepper Eddie with relentless questions about the bag, where he was going, why he was leaving, what was happening.

When Eddie had finally given in to Mike’s incessant nagging, confessing to his plan of running away and making it big in Hollywood, Mike cried. Not the typical tantrums ignored by his parents when he wanted something. They were the tears of a child, filled with emotions too big for someone so small. The tears fell without push or prompt, and his lip wobbled even as he bit them to stop.

When Eddie really thought about Mike pestering him for guitar lessons, or to play DnD with his friends, to take him to the movies, or listen to Eddie’s music, he could finally see it for what it was. Mike wanted Eddie around, liked him for who he was, and didn’t see him as some stray adopted into the perfect family. Mike just saw him as his big brother.

So Eddie decided running away could wait at least a day or two. He’d sat down with Mike, backs against the bed, and showed him the basics. The kid wasn’t very good with hands too small, but the smile on his face said enough. 

“It should have a name,” Mike said, strumming off-key.

Eddie hummed in thought before settling on, “this machine kills fascists.”

“What’s a fascist?”

“Oh, it’s– well I guess they’re kinda–”

“I meant a cool name, like Mindflayer.”

Eddie chuckled. “How about both?”

He’d let Mike write it out with a pen, then Eddie lightly carved his switchblade into each letter. Sure it could fuck up the sound, but it was worth it to see the stark joy on his little brother’s face.

This Machine Slays Dragons.

Mike’s smile turned a little sad. He looked up at Eddie, eyes wide and wet when he said, “now, even if you still leave, you’ll remember me. Right?”

Here Eddie finds himself again, held in place by possibly the one person whose love he never had to earn, given without hesitation. He’d promised Mike all those years ago that he’d never run away. And he’d done it anyway.

“You know,” Eddie sniffs, leaning back out of Mike’s hold to drag his sleeve across his eyes, “Lincoln Park is pretty nice, and it’s not that far from here.”

Mike jerks back to catch his eye, and Eddie holds his gaze. He’d already started to consider just staying in Chicago, even scouted some neighborhoods. 

His bottom lip wobbles like it always does, but Mike scoffs, a small light returning to his eyes when he rolls them and says, “of course you get a taste of being a rich asshole and immediately want to move to Lincoln Park.”

Eddie barks a laugh and hooks his left elbow around Mike’s neck to pull him in for a noogie. It’s fun and lighthearted and not nearly enough of a conversation to nullify so much of the hurt Eddie’s caused him. 

But a bridge has been repaired, if even slightly. 

Mike screeches, wriggling his way free until the wrestling turns into a genuine, too-long hug neither of them move to break. “Want to come upstairs and meet your nephew for real?” 

Mike moves to stand from the couch, offering Eddie his hand. He takes it.

“Of course! I’ve got to start the music education early and beat the Byers boys before they brainwash the poor kid with punk.”

Mike makes a noise at the back of throat, wiggling his hand back and forth as he shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe give Will some space. He’s, uhh–”

“Not as forgiving?” Eddie finishes. But Mike gives him a small, reassuring smile.

“Just start answering the phone, come over for dinner, babysit– he’ll come around.” 

They head upstairs towards the sounds of cooing and laughter. The thought of settling down used to spring his defenses, fill him with dread. A kind of life he always looked down on and took for granted. Now he only feels the warm comfort of home at the thought of living here, so close to his family and friends. 

He holds the thought of family and friends in his head like a mantra to distract himself from the Steve of it all. Living so close, running into each other, spending holidays with their mixed family. Eddie pushes the deep-churning anxieties in his gut to the side as he smiles down on his baby nephew, and hopes maybe everything will go over better than he expects.

~~~

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings @thewickedkat

@stripey82 @a-lovely-craziness

Ok I've got bad news... I'm officially abandoning this fic. It's been a total struggle, and although I have a fairly detailed outline and vibrant scenes I'd love to hit, I just can't make the words come out right. I've started and re-started the next chapter so many times I've lost count.

Which means it's time for me to move on to what keeps me passionate about Steddie!

I'm immensely happy with what I've created here, and I hope you have been too. Thank you for all of your likes and reblogs and comments because I never would've gotten this far without your support. It means the world to me.

I'll be uploading everything I have here on Tumblr to ao3, and then that's all she wrote.

~~~

One last thought! If you enjoy tropes like break ups w/ second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, (not actually) unrequited love PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out A Thousand Flowers Could Bloom by @morningberriesao3.

This fic is stunning and smutty and horribly sad and fluffy and EVERYTHING (bonus: it's complete <3). It was a balm on my soul when I struggled with writing this, so hopefully you'll all love it too.

[ao3usermelancholyhues]

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞

steve harrington/eddie munson for @steddiemicrofic's january prompt: hole, 404 words. ft. flirting, sexual innuendo | T rating read on ao3

“That’s just perfect.” 

Steve stares at his rapidly flattening tire, and the culprit just behind the car. He loosens his tie, irritated. 

It’s not that Steve can’t change a tire—he doesn’t have a spare. 

Robin’s house is a couple of streets over. Sighing, he begins the walk there to call his mechanic.

“No answer,” Steve announces dejectedly as he walks back into Robin’s livingroom and flops down in her armchair, huffing.

The dramatics are a little much, but Robin bites her tongue. No need to kick the man while he’s down (not a rule she always conforms to). 

“I know a guy who could help,” she says instead. “My cousin’s friend.”

Steve perks up. “Is he good?”

Robin bites her tongue again, this time fighting a grin. “Oh, he’s somethin’.” 

Thirty minutes later, there’s a mechanic named Eddie in her livingroom. Steve supposes he looks exactly as expected—grey coveralls, arm tattoos, hands stained but washed (Steve knows, he shook one, with the hand that wasn’t clutching a cup of tea). 

However, Eddie also has long hair tied in a loose bun, and the warmest smile. It lights up his eyes and Steve barely knows where to look. 

Robin’s in the kitchen doorway, both hands on her own tea mug. 

“So. Popped a tire?” asks Eddie. “How’d that happen?”

“Hole.” 

Steve flushes when he hears Robin snort. 

Eddie’s grinning from ear-to-ear. “Hole?”

“P-pothole,” Steve clarifies quickly. “I went over a… a big pothole.” 

Eddie contemplates that, tongue between his teeth and looking Steve up and down, before he says, “Yeah, it’s amazing what a hole can do to you.” 

Steve splutters into his tea. It goes up his nose a little, kind of fucking hurts. Robin barely keeps a lid on her laughter, knowing Steve won’t thank her for it. 

“Eddie, you’re gonna kill him. Quit flirting.” 

“Sorry! Right. Where’s the car?”

He keeps his comments to himself throughout the tire change, even though he really wants to wind up the cute guy in the nice suit with the nice car.

Steve pays him there and then, cash plus tip, but Eddie rejects the tip. 

“Keep that. Since I almost killed you back at the house.” 

Steve blushes. “You caught me off-guard.” 

Eddie can’t resist. “I tell it like it is! Gotta know your way around a hole or you might blow, big boy.” 

There’s no tea this time, but Steve still manages to choke. 

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

[formosusiniquis]

Price of Fame

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 31: I'm not going to beg you to love me

T | WC: 1044 | No Archive Warnings Apply; Break up, No Makeup; Hurt No Comfort

AO3

It had been grueling, that's what Eddie thinks he's supposed to say. Blood, sweat, and tears. They got big by being lucky, the humble answer. They had been in the right place at the right time after working their asses off and now they're bigger than the biggest. Corroded Coffin is a household name used in the same sentences as Metallica and Sabbath.

And the honest answers to those interview questions about success, he always knew they fucking would be. It was a foregone conclusion in his mind, everyone else just had to catch up. They worked for it, blood and sweat that part probably is true. But what is it they always say? If you love what you do you never work a day in your life, Eddie thinks there's some truth to that too.

It's hard being on the road. But they got big and they stay big by touring, so Jeff wracks up a nasty bill at every hotel they manage to get calling the wife back home, Gareth keeps a girlfriend in every state, and he doesn't know what Freak's deal is. But the perk of being queer as a three dollar bill, Eddie can spend his nine months a year on the road and come back to Steve like nothing's changed. It's different with guys, with them. Cause Steve gets it, he's always been their biggest supporter. He knows the music comes first, the guys are Eddie's family, and he doesn't complain or ask for anything more than the time Eddie is able to give him.

It'll be a longer stretch at home this time, nearly a month, and Eddie is pushing open the door to the apartment he keeps for Steve already thinking about all the ways they can spend the time.

All to trip over a bag in the floor. Dropping his behind him with a thump, the old army surplus duffle that's been as faithful to him as his boyfriend hitting the ground with a smack that brings the man of the hour out from the bedroom. He's got another bag over his shoulder, something expensive looking and stylish that Eddie wonders if he bought.

“Did I forget to tell you I was coming home?”

“Well it wouldn't be the first time,” Steve's voice is sharp and clipped. Face pinched in a way that conjures memories of his mother, the one time Eddie met her.

“If you've got a trip with Robin planned change it, I'll only-”

“Be in town for a few days?” Steve asks. “So I should keep putting my life on hold for the few minutes that you can pencil me in? Change my plans because you've blown into town and just like always Eddie Munson's plans are more important than anyone else's.”

“I thought you'd be happy to see me?”

The question brings a quiet like the eye of the storm, he can already feel the whipping wind starting to push back in around him, smell the ozone in the air; but those words halt everything for a second.

Then Steve breaks.

“I am happy, Eddie,” there's a wet shine in his eye and he knows better than to think Steve is going to give him the satisfaction of letting a single one fall. “That's the worst part. I'm happy every time you walk through the door but I can't fucking survive only being happy one week out of every nine.”

A DM at heart, he can't stand a problem that no one will bring a solution to. Spits the way he would when Gareth would bitch about combat balance, “Then fu-”

“Call a hotel you haven't left the number to?” Steve is vicious, stealing the satisfaction of the curse from between his still pursed lips. “I spent my whole fucking childhood doing that, and I'm not doing it anymore. I-”

He looks down at his feet, at Eddie's, the sprawl of the pristine leather suitcase he moved in with years ago, his grandfather's Eddie remembers. Rather, he remembers the fond way Steve had talked about it.

“I'm done,” he says more to the kicked over luggage than he does to the man he is leaving. “I'm gonna stay at Robin's, she's waiting.”

Desperation claws at the back of Eddie's throat, but what makes it out is his father. “You can't leave.”

Fury lurks at the bottom of the water in Steve's red rimmed eyes. An anger Eddie can feel as they snap to his. “Why not? There's no prenup, no lawyers to get involved. I can walk right out the door you're standing in the way of and you can keep on being Eddie Munson, mysterious bachelor of Corroded Coffin.”

“There is no me without you,” he tries, but even saying it he can hear how it rings hollow off the barren hallway walls.

Steve likes to yell, likes to get loud, has told Eddie it's the only way he could make sure that there was life in the big empty house he grew up in was to make sure he could hear his bouncing off the walls. So he's ready to be yelled at. Ready for whatever Steve wants to scream in his face before they move back into the kitchen or to the bedroom where they'll find normal again.

So he almost doesn't hear the whispered way his relationship slips away. “I'm not going to beg you to love me. I can't do that again.”

“Steve, no, Stevie I do. I do love you. Of course I love you, all of this is for you. All of everything is for you, we can work this out. Just stay.” He begs, babbles, pleads as Steve moves with a silent assuredness close enough to pick up his bag.

“Goodbye, Eddie, I really am so proud of you.” Sincerity rings through in every word, just like he can feel that bittersweet love in Steve's last kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The door clicks shut between them and Eddie is alone. Alone holding the scraps of a broken heart he won't be able to write a song about and with an answer he can't give to his least favorite interview question. What's been the cost of your meteoric rise to fame?

[wormdebut]

STEDDIE MICROFIC AUGUST: ‘Try A Slice’

@steddiemicrofic | Word: Cake | Word Count: 311 Rated: M (for swears and suggestive content) | CW: none

——

“I’m telling you Gareth, somehow…I will get me a slice of that delicious cake.”

Gareth’s head snapped up from the book he was pursuing, “Cake! Where?”

He scanned the shop until his eyes landed on Harrington and Robin Buckley. Steve was turned toward her leaving his gorgeous lithe backside and perfect fucking ass right in Eddie’s eye-line.

Eddie smirked, eyes darting from Gareth back to Steve. “I just want to bite him.”

Understanding crossed Gareth’s face quickly replaced by disgust, “Literally, ew.”

“Mark my words, I will devour him on a silver fucking platter.”

——

Two Years Later

“Harrington, it was traumatizing.”

Eddie smiled, listening to his best friend and the love of his life, shoot the shit in their living room.

“What was traumatizing Emerson?” Eddie asks, placing a kiss on Steve’s head.

Steve leans back, leaning his head on Eddie’s chest. Looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes.

“Oh, your Gare was telling me that you had a little obsession with um—“ Eddie watches as Steve’s cheeks dusted pink with blush. It was delicious, and Eddie just wanted to lick him. “—cake?”

Eddie cocked his brow, sure he has a hell of a sweet tooth but—

“Steve’s Ass. Before you started dating you were obsessed with his ‘dump truck’ of an ass!” Gareth howled, laughing.

Steve leaned forward sputtering. That delicious red of his cheeks spreading down his neck.

Eddie didn’t know if he should thank Gareth or kill him.

“And I still am. Have you seen it?” Eddie asks.

“Ed, ew!” Gareth exclaims hopping up from the couch.

Eddie laughs, clapping Gareth on the shoulder. “You’re the one trying to embarrass me! I for one will never be embarrassed that my sweet boyfriend is a fucking snack.”

Eddie pushes Gareth out the front door.

Once Gareth leaves, Eddie flings himself at Steve.

“What do you say baby, time for dessert?”

——

[steddieunderdogfics]

Just like kisses on the necks of best friends by Pennyplainknits

@pennyplainknits

Rating: Teens and Up

11,427 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: Background Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Different Types of Love, Platonic Relationships, Best Friends, Trying really hard to not be straight and failing, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Aged up characters

Summary:

Mike gets dumped, and thinks a lot about different types of love.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics featuring Will Byers.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[mugloversonly]

The Revenant of You

Summary: At Dustin and Eleven's wedding, Eddie and Steve reunite after 10 years.

This fully finished and will be released weekly. There are 5 total chapters. AO3 link at the bottom.

Chapter 1: Steve

Steve and Abby stood hand in hand outside the church. His little girl was so excited to see her uncle Dusty again and watch him marry Auntie El, but Steve wasn’t ready to see Eddie again. He couldn’t do this.

He scoffed at himself. It had been nearly ten years since they last saw each other on the night of their break up. At the time, Corroded Coffin was on their first album tour, Steve was with them, and he watched as Eddie’s dreams of being a Rock Star became a reality. He was so proud of him, but he was resentful too. Why should Eddie get everything he ever wanted when Steve didn’t? Never mind that Steve wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted; it was about the principle.

But more than that, Steve was scared. Terrified Eddie would realize he could do much better than Steve and he’d break his heart. So, he resolved to break Eddie’s first. He picked a fight out of nowhere, screamed about how he hated being on the road, he wanted kids, and Eddie would never be able to give him that.

What Steve hadn’t anticipated was the Munson resolve. Eddie offered to quit. He’d quit the band, settle down where ever Steve wanted, and they’d have some little nuggets: adopted or surrogate, it didn’t matter as long as they stayed together, stayed married. Said he loved Steve and his life with him was more important than his dreams.

Eddie was so genuine, Steve knew he would have quit then and there, but he couldn’t live with the guilt. So he told the biggest lie of his life, your love isn’t enough, you’ll always be too much.

Eddie’s biggest insecurity, Steve’s ticket out. Or so he thought; but, here he was ten years later, nursing the bruised ego from his second divorce, and the broken heart from his first husband.

He shook his head, ducked into the last row, and did his best to hide. Normally, he’d be in the front row but Eddie was the best man. Steve tried not to be bitter about it. He’d known Dustin the longest...but thanks to Abby’s mom, his relationships with his friends weren’t as strong as they used to be; he didn’t even remember the last time he spoke to Robin.

As the ceremony started, he forgot about his worries as he watched Dustin take his place at the front of the church. He looked so handsome in his all black suit, even if he had a goofy pink bow tie on. But as the procession made their way down the aisle, the pink made sense. All the bridesmaids were in soft pink dresses with black accents, all the groomsmen in black suits, with pink accents. Different than Dustin’s like they all were allowed to choose what the accent was.

The maid of honor was of course Max, she was arm in arm with Eddie. Steve tried to keep his eyes on Max, but they drifted. Just to see what his accent was he whispered to himself. Pink ribbons were braided into his long hair, little bows at the end. It kind of pissed Steve off that he didn’t look stupid with his hair like that; he looked really cute.

Even though Steve was the reason they weren’t together anymore, he still hated Eddie a little, he wanted him to be miserable like him. Which was so shitty of him but if there was one thing Steve was still trying to unlearn, it was his level of pettiness.

Even as everyone stood to see the bride, his gaze never left Eddie’s form. Abby yanked on his arm finally pulling him away and toward Eleven. Her dress was a blush princess gown, she carried black daisies, her only jewelry was her smile. Her arm was wrapped in Hopper’s as they moved, her eyes never looked away from Dustin and his never moved from her.

He teared up as Dustin wiped his face. He remembered that feeling. Seeing the love of your life walk to you, looking as beautiful as ever. His first wedding was full of that heart stopping, lung filling, joy. He couldn’t help but look at Eddie again, hoping their eyes would meet. But no, he watched El with a sad smile, a few stray tears sliding down his face. Steve selfishly hoped he was thinking the same thing.

The reception was...exactly what he would expect from Eleven. So many candles and colors. Flowers everywhere, but there were touches of Dustin too. D20 candle holders were the centerpieces and the food was Dustin’s favorite: grilled salmon with a honey glaze.

Steve tried to engage with the people at his assigned table, but he wasn’t very enthused. The only people from Hawkins who weren’t in the bridal party were the parents and siblings of the kids-now adults- of the party. Somehow, exchanging parenting tips with Karen Wheeler was not on his wedding agenda. By the time dinner ended, Steve was ready to drown himself in champagne.

Then the speeches started...and he willed lighting to strike him. Max’s speech was beautiful. Anecdotes about their childhood spent together, omitting the monster stuff but Steve knew the truth. “I hope you and Dustin live a long and happy life together Ellie. And remember, if he breaks your heart, I’ll break his bones.” The room laughed but those who knew her, knew Max would do it.

Eddie was up next, Steve slumped down more in his chair. “Dustin I hope you know how lucky you are” he began with a chuckle. “El is a great woman and don’t forget she has super powers.” Those in the know laughed as Eddie continued his speech. A few stories of how they met and Dustin’s more...creative experiments. He looked at the crowd and Steve knew the moment he saw him, his eyes widened before he schooled his expression.

“Seeing you at the alter tonight, promising to love each other until the end, I knew you meant it. Dustin, El, you two made me believe in love again. Seeing your relationship change from friendship to full blown love has been...amazing. The two of you have that old soul type of love.” He glanced at Steve again.

“Not to get too into it but I went through a divorce some years ago that made me bitter.” Eddie said, his eyes never leaving Steve. “I hated my ex, I hated love, I hated...myself.” Steve gasped. “But Dustin,” he turned to the groom. “You wouldn’t let me wallow. You practically dragged me by the ear out of my misery. You said ‘don’t let the heartbreak drag you down. Channel that shit!’” Dustin chuckled and smiled big.

“You played the most metal concert once, you can write the most metal album now” Dustin yelled, likely repeating what he’d said those years ago, causing the party to groan good-naturedly.

“You’re the reason for our third album, man.” Eddie’s band cheered from a table over, startling Steve. He hadn’t realized they were here. He saw Wayne sitting at their table and felt his heart twinge. He was older now, but he still looked good. Like he could kick Steve’s ass.

Eddie turned to El next. “El, you said to me, ‘boys lie. Men love their partners.’ Words of wisdom given to you by Max and Joyce, that you gave to me.” He grabbed his champagne flute and held it in toast. “Thanks to you two, I could forgive my ex, I could forgive myself, and I was able to get back out there and find love again.”

Steve heart dropped, though as he glanced at Abby, he supposed he shouldn’t be upset that Eddie moved on. Even if he felt the green monster peak out.

“Dustin, you’re one hell of a man! Thank you for letting me be a part of your wedding, and sharing in your joy. And though, she can’t be with us here today, I know that Lyla would stand with me and say Congrats you two! Long live the Hoppersons!” Eddie declared before he took a sip of his champagne. “Now, DJ? The first dance please.” He stepped off the dance floor to let the couple take their place before he reached for the flower girl being held in Nancy’s arms.

The little girl looked adorable in her pink dress. She had on a black ribbon like a belt and pink ribbon braided through her hair just like Eddie’s, when he spun her around Steve’s jaw dropped. She had Eddie’s big brown doe eyes. Steve stood shocked to his core as the two giggled together.

Eddie Munson, had a daughter.

Steve couldn’t believe it. He didn’t think Eddie actually wanted kids and the petty part of him wondered if he knocked a girl up on accident or had one to spite Steve. But just as quickly, he hated himself for thinking something so awful. Especially when Abby grasped his hand; sh e’d been an unplanned pregnancy. W hat was that phrase Robin used to use you shouldn’t throw stones if you live in a glass house.

He watched Hopper and Eleven take the floor, then Claudia and Dustin. The two parent dances brought tears to his eyes and a sadness to his heart, he and Eddie skipped them since Steve’s parents didn’t approve and with Wendy...they barely had a wedding, let alone a reception.

The DJ invited everyone to the dance floor and he took Abby to join in at her insistence. She pulled him into the crowd and wrapped herself around Dustin’s leg.

“Yay Uncle Dustin!” She shouted at him. Dustin lit up and lifted his niece into his arms, swung her around, before turning to pull Steve into a hug.

“Hey man! You made it!” He shouted over the music, Eleven pulling him into a hug next.

“Thank you for coming Steve and Abby.” El said in that quiet way of hers.

“Thanks for the invite! How have you been?” He asked. As the three danced, they caught up. Steve telling them about his divorce, Dustin telling him how he proposed.

A few songs in, the flower girl came up to Eleven and pulled on her sleeve. She turned to the girl and bent to her level. “Yes, Lily?” She asked. The little girl, Lily apparently, waved her hand down so she could whisper in Eleven’s ear. El stood and nodded, Steve watched as Lily hugged Dustin’s leg, before she scurried off back to Eddie. He lifted an eyebrow and Dustin chuckled.

“Dustin, it is time for cake.” She said to her new husband.

“Already?” Steve asked. They just ate dinner.

“Lily asked very nicely.” El said. Based on the way Dustin responded, it was obvious the two adored the little girl.

“Lilith, is our goddaughter.” Dustin said as way of explanation.

Steve was envious of the display. He wished Abby got that kind of reaction out of his friends, but since Wendy hated them all, it was hard to get together. He was envious of Dustin too, he knew Eddie’s daughter in a way Steve didn’t, and likely never would.

As the couple went to cut the cake, Steve took Abby to the little girl’s room. After she took care of her business, they exited the bathroom and bumped into Eddie and his daughter.

The two men stared at each other in silence for a minute, before the girls caught sight of each other. Lily hid behind her dad’s leg but peaked shyly at the other girl. Abby ran over and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Abigail, but you can call me Abby. I like your hair!” She said sweetly. Lily looked at Eddie uncertainly. He nodded encouragingly at her and she stepped out from behind him a tiny bit.

She tugged on her braid. “Tank you, my aunt Nancy did it. To match my dad’s”.

“That’s nice! My dad’s hair is too short to do much with it.” She said, in that kid like way that was obvious she was repeating something an adult said. Eddie huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Wily. Short for Wiwif.” She whispered. The gap from her missing two front teeth made her have a lisp. She looked at her dad again but stepped forward and stuck her little hand out for a shake. “My gwanpa Wayne says when you meet new people you shake deir hands.” Abby grabbed her hand and Lily moved their hands up and down.

“My grandpa’s dead.” Abby said proudly. “I’m eight by the way, how old are you?” Lily holds up four fingers but when Eddie cleared his throat she lifted her thumb. “Five? I remember being five. Wanna play?” She asked confidently with a questioning look at Steve.

“If, Eddie says it’s fine.” Steve said, saying Eddie’s name for the first time all night.

“Can I daddy?” Lily asked excitedly. Eddie looked at Steve, and dropped to a knee in front of Lily.

“All right my little demon. If you want you can. But!” he said to grab her attention again. “What are the rules?” Steve froze for a moment. He never thought Eddie would have rules for his kids.

“Make sure I can see you. If I can’t see you, yell weally loud or find an adult I know. If a stwanger asks me to go somewhewe, ask for the magic woud. If it’s wong, say no. If dey twy to gwab me, bite dem.” Lily replied dutifully.

“Two more” Eddie said encouragingly.

“No means no. Respec bounwies” She said resolutely.

“Alright, go you little gremlin.” Eddie said and laughed as the two girls skipped hand in hand to the dance floor.

The two men stood awkwardly for a moment, but Steve couldn’t let Eddie leave. He wanted to catch up even if it was only for a bit. “You named your daughter Lilith?” Steve asked with a teasing smile. Eddie smiled sheepishly.

“Her mom picked it actually.” He said quietly with a soft smile but a sadness in his eyes. “Lyla’s parents demanded a biblical name. I wanted to name her Jezebel but Lyla said she didn’t want to name her after a traitor.” He chuckled at the irony. “What about you? Why Abigail?” He asked.

“Her mom, Wendy, didn’t want to choose. I opened a book of baby girl names and picked one.” Steve answered with a shrug.

“Is Wendy here?” Eddie asked innocently; but, it made Steve get defensive.

“Nah, we got divorced.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said. Steve wanted to ask if he meant it, but chose the safer option.

“I wouldn’t think Eddie ‘fuck the establishment’ Munson would have rules for his kid.” Steve chuckled, it was supposed to be a joke, but it came out accusatory. The tensing of Eddie’s shoulders. wilted Steve a bit.

“Yeah well, my dad wasn’t famous.” He said tightly as if that explained everything. And it did, Steve supposed.

“He kind of was though, wasn’t he?” Steve snorted meanly. Eddie scoffed and moved away.

“Her rules keep her safe. Unlike my father, and yours,” Eddie growled. “I actually care about my daughter, not that you’d know that.” He turned on his heel to go back to the ballroom, but Steve’s hand caught around his wrist.

“Sorry, that was shitty. I shouldn’t criticize how you parent.” Steve admitted.

“Why not? It’s not like you had faith in the type of parent I would be anyway, right?” Eddie asked bitterly.

“That’s not true! I knew you’d be a great parent!” Steve exclaimed. Eddie didn’t react beyond nodding in acknowledgment.

“Abby’s eight?” Eddie asked tilting his head toward the dance floor, clearly wanting to move away from this conversation.

“Yeah? So, what?” Steve asked brazenly. Eddie sighed, defeated.

“Nothing, Steve. Just trying to make conversation, excuse me.” He turned to walk back to the ballroom again.

“I didn’t cheat on you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Steve called after him aggressively. Eddie stopped but kept his back to him.

“I wasn’t wondering anything, Harrington. I was just asking.” The use of his last name prickled his skin. He’d been Steve Munson until he married Wendy, reverting back to his original name. But he doubted Eddie knew that, so it felt like a low blow.

“You know what Munson?” Steve said angrily. He didn’t know why, but all his resentment toward Wendy, his regret for ending things with Eddie, and now his hurt feelings at being so easily dismissed, were culminating in a bad way. Eddie turned to face Steve. “You can act high and mighty all you want, but you’re here alone too aren’t you?”

“Yeah” Eddie said quietly, his jaw clenched, his eyes wet, and even after all these years Steve knew what he looked like before he cried. After all, it was the last face he ever saw Eddie make before today.

“So, who are you to judge me?” Steve asked but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Abby’s eight because the girl I went out with a few times after our divorce got pregnant. We got married before she started to show so no one would suspect a thing. She was unhappy, I was unhappy. We got divorced so we could be better parents. It is what it is.”

With a glance at Eddie’s left hand, he scoffed: a gold band sat there, nothing like the silver of his old one. It pissed Steve off, reminded him that he picked out the silver so the rings would blend in with his normal ones, even as Eddie insisted he wanted it to stand out. Undeniable proof that Lyla was better than him. “At least I don’t still wear my wedding ring!” He ranted hypocritically ignoring his old silver band from his marriage with Eddie that hung around his neck for the past ten years.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just looked at Steve in that way that he used to, like he could see right through him. He knew why it hurt so much to see Eddie happy and with a kid. It was a future he could have had if he wasn’t so scared. He knew it was selfish but he wanted to make Eddie feel a fraction of the pain he did seeing his ex so happy.

“Why’s Lyla not here huh? Lyla get tired of you, too? Life of a musician’s wife too much for her?” Steve snarled. A single tear slid down Eddie’s face but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. Still, he said nothing. It pissed Steve off more. “Answer me! Why’d she leave you? Where is she?” He stepped into Eddie’s face, nose to nose, digging the knife in deep.

“She died.” Eddie said, never breaking eye contact with Steve as he cried silently. His eyes were far away, lost in memories and pain. Those two words took the wind out of Steve’s sails so fast he almost got whiplash. It was only then that he noticed a different wedding band hanging on the necklace with his pick. It was smaller, dainty; Lyla’s ring.

“Eddie…” he began shutting his eyes in regret but was interrupted.

“No, now it’s my turn.” He took a breath. “I honestly asked how old Abby was because I wanted to know. I wasn’t wondering if you cheated because frankly, it doesn’t matter if you did. I stopped worrying about why you threw me away a long time ago.” Steve flinched at the phrasing. “You broke up with me Steve, not the other way around. You filed for divorce. You ended it. You don’t get to be in my face screaming and accusing me of shit just because you’re pissed that I ended up in a happy marriage and you didn’t.” Eddie huffed, his eyes hardened into that look that convinced a whole town he was a murderer.

“And you definitely don’t get to come here and talk about shit you know nothing about. You never met Lyla but if you had, you wouldn’t have said a single thing you just did. We loved each other more than anything. We started trying for a kid because I wanted one. I offered to quit the band, she went to my manager herself, and convinced him to add a clause into the band contract that said we would only tour when the kids were out of school and that I would have a back up guitarist that traveled with us. So that if I ever had to dip out of a show for a kid, I could. She traveled with us, the band loved her, the crew loved her, I love her.” The use of the present tense hit him in the gut.

“She never complained about being on the road, in fact she said it was great for Lily to experience so much of the world. I promised her I would drop everything the second she asked me to, and she actually believed me when I said it.” The emphasis wasn’t lost on Steve. Eddie said the same thing to him, but he never trusted it.

“When I asked her to marry me, she laughed, and pulled out a ring she got to ask me to marry her. She loved me exactly how I am and I know we would have been together for the rest of our lives if it wasn’t for that asshole drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry Eddie. I shouldn’t have said any of that.” Steve said sufficiently chastised. Eddie scoffed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. I get that you’re angry. But don’t take your bullshit out on me, alright? You don’t get to be screaming in my face about my dead wife, because you’re mad you didn’t pull out in time. I was never too much for Lyla, I was enough for her. My love was enough for her! So keep her name out of your mouth.” Eddie growled before he wiped his face on his sleeve and walked away, never looking back.

Steve watched him go, full of even more anger at himself than the last time he saw that look on Eddie’s face: pure heartbreak. Because of Steve’s insecurities. Again.

See it on AO3 here if you liked this and you can, donate to my surgery fund here every little bit helps!

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Hooke's Law

by Oonionchiver

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, non-established omegaverse, or it’s just in the early years of BECOMING established, so people don’t really know too much about it yet and it’s rare, Modern AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pair Bonding, Blood Bond, which would be great except they hate each other, Denial, Late presentation, exploring the emergence of A/B/O in a modern world, past attempted non-con, Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts and Ideation, Tommy Hagan get ready to be a good guy in one of my fics for once, Bitchy Bratty Power Omega Steve, Obsessively Devoted Service Alpha Eddie, Top Eddie, Bottom Steve, but Black Out Days style, Hurt/Comfort, Angst on a 10, Roommates, figuring out life as an Alpha and Omega, Drug Addiction to Suppressants, it’s mild and mostly off-screen, Cuddling, rejection sickness, Rough Sex, Blood Kink, Face Slapping, Bondage, Breeding Kink, Roleplay, happy ending always despite the angst, More warnings inside, prejudice against Alphas and Omegas, Messy exes, imperfect people who mean well but fuck up, past murder suicide, Past Suicide Attempt, Whump, drop, Hospitalisation Words: 96,767 Chapters: 4/4

Summary

‘Nah, I wanna be the Alpha,’ Steve laughs easily, light-hearted and disconnected from reality, god, Eddie’s jealous. ‘You can be my little bitch.’ Eddie’s cock gives a treacherous kick of applause and that is really, truly the last straw. ‘OK,’ he says loudly, firmly freeing himself, even though Steve takes a decent chunk of hair for his trouble. ‘I gotta go now, for real. Like. I cannot be here for this. You’re in heat, Harrington. You’re…’ He closes his eyes, steps back. There are better people to tell Steve this. ‘You’re an Omega.’ Steve, for his part, is watching Eddie with drunken moody eyes, wholeheartedly unimpressed. ‘I don’t wanna play angsty shit, Munson. That’s dull.’

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemicrofic January Prompt: Hole

Word Count: 404 | Rated: T for ample use of the word 'bullshit' | cw: Angst Without a Happy Ending, Break-up, Hurt/No Comfort It has been a hot minute since I've done a microfic. And oops, I made it sad. I promise I'll write another silly one.

'Bullshit'

“This is bullshit,” Eddie spits, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What is?” Steve demands, shrugging.

“This!” Eddie gestures to the four walls of checked wallpaper, “Everything! Hawkins! I…”

He stops himself and folds his arms.

“I… I just need to go…” he hums, looking at the floor – at anything but Steve.

“Leave!” Steve demands incredulously, “Here? And go without me?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He turns to the window and looks down – likely to the pool Steve hopes will finally open and swallow the house… Eddie... Himself into a deep pit of nothingness.

His legs buckle and he sits at the foot of the bed, hanging his head in his hands.

Bullshit. It rings in his ears and rips through his chest. Tears prickle up in the corners of his eyes.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The word rolls over in his head, all lit up like a fucking slot machine.

“I just have to go.”

A tear drops onto Steve’s cheek as he looks up to find Eddie standing right in front of him.

He can feel his face pinching up, tensed and pained as pure white-hot rage courses through his body, down to his toes and to his fingertips at the note of determination in Eddie’s voice.

“I know you won’t come with me,” he adds, his voice infuriatingly steady like he’s been planning this out.

“I hate you,” Steve blurts, balling up his fists as he seethes.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Again.

Not after everything.

Not after Vecna. After months of hospital stays and appointments.

Not after all the flirting and longing.

The kisses. The fun. The laughter.

Putting each other back together.

For good, Steve thought.

He pinches his nose, resisting the urge to fling himself down on the bed.

He’s not going to give Eddie that.

Not right now when he’s looking down at him with pity. That same look he’s received time and again. From Nancy... His own parents...

As if it’s completely ridiculous to hold out hope.

Hope for a quiet life together. A house. A Family.

A life Eddie doesn’t want with him. Perhaps he never wanted it...

“Get…” he starts through gritted teeth, looking Eddie directly in the eye, “Out.”

It’s bullshit how easily Eddie does as he’s told this time – for once.

He walks out, each step of his worn Reeboks shooting a cavernous hole straight through Steve’s stupid, pathetic goddamn heart.

[novemberthorne]

long time no wip, here's a crazy teaser to my WIP story about Steve stumbling into a magical transition in his quest for parenthood, featuring fae Eddie :) 💕✨

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[no-context-nonsense]

It’s SATURDAY!!! And we’re crying. But at least we got this post up on the right day.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Warped Tour AU

January 2013

Steve was in the grocery store when he saw the magazine for the first time. After Robin dutifully blacklisted all related tags and users as well as blocked Eddie and his stupid band from every app on Steve's phone, Steve had been able to avoid the doe-eyed frontman successfully going on two years.  After not seeing Eddie's signature curls for so long, Steve found himself a little breathless when confronted with Eddie in all his rockstar glory.  He hadn’t known Corroded Coffin had gotten popular enough to be featured as “five bands to watch on this year’s Warped Tour.” Steve remembered Eddie’s first time leaving for the Warped Tour with a pain in his chest. He thumbed through the magazine while waiting to check out until he found Corroded Coffin’s feature. “Munson spills about hometown crush and getting the *$&! out of Indiana.” Steve slammed the magazine down on the belt, throwing extra Reese’s’ and Twix’s onto his already impressive junk food haul.

Steve had about an hour until Robin was supposed to get back from rehearsal. Robin had taken the college theater scene by storm becoming one of the best damn stage managers the school had ever seen.  Steve would help out occasionally with prop runs or set building but he’d opted out of working on the freshmen one-acts. As fun as it was watching the theater babies run around trying to figure out college life, Steve was happier to spend his winter intersession lounging around the apartment.  This term he’d taken up playing acoustic guitar after a fairly successful crash course during sophomore year.  A nasty stomach flu had ripped its way through the cast of Grease during tech week, which led to Robin begging him to learn some basic chords to fill in for one of the side characters.

Safely back in their apartment, Steve put away his groceries and was once again confronted by Eddie’s too big smile and too bright eyes. He flipped back to the band’s feature, skimming through the journalist’s praise of the band’s offbeat sound and openly gay lyrics. Steve got to the questions about the band’s origins and almost passed out reading Eddie’s answers.

Q: Corroded Coffin came up from a small town in Indiana. What was it like breaking into the Warped Tour scene?

Munson: That first year was so f***in’ wild. Munson leans in to ask if he can curse during the interview, his playful smile and bright eyes teasing. I assure him my editor is fine with a few censored curse words. I’d just come out of a town that was so Stepford Wives and onto a scene with people of all different backgrounds and sexualities. It was an adult summer camp in  a very weird and fantastical way. It was overwhelming at first but I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone but these guys. Munson pats his bandmates on their backs and gives their shoulders a squeeze with his hands, thin fingers covered in chunky rings.

Q: That brings me to my next question, you’re so proud of who you are in your lyrics. Were you out before your first summer at the Warped Tour?

Munson: I’ve never apologized for who I was. I had a small group of super supportive friends who had my back. There were definitely some assholes back home but our after school DnD club was a real safe haven to be whoever you wanted to be. Munson points to a small button on his vest with the words “Hellfire Club” printed in red block letters surrounded by tiny polyhedral dice.

Q: So we’ve seen Corroded Coffin write about pretty boys and getting up to some rather PG-13 activities but most of your fans argue you’ve never written a love song. Any plans to show your softer side this summer?

Munson: I can only write what I know, man. I mean the dating pool in rural Indiana was mostly closeted jocks so I can’t say that I’ve been in love in any meaningful way to write about. Not to say closeted jocks can’t be fun. Munson winks and his band-mate Gareth elbows him in the side. Maybe I’ll find my guy at the rock show this summer at the Warped Tour. Munson cackles at his own joke. His bandmates roll their eyes--they’ve heard this one before. Sorry for co-opting your lyric, Hoppus.

Steve sunk down the kitchen counter and pulled his knees into his chest feeling his throat catch on an emotion he’d pushed down since his last summer living in Hawkins.  He heard Robin open the door but couldn't bring himself to look up.  Robin saw the magazine and immediately joined Steve on the floor, legs outstretched, shoulder bumping up against Steve’s, letting him know she was here when he was ready. They’d developed their own non-verbal forms of communication over their long friendship.

***

some shameless self promo of an older fic that gives summer / warped tour vibes. read the rest on AO3!

[absentlurker]

yall i gotta be real

i can’t stand fics where steddie break up and the reason is just…dumb lmfao

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Mom and Dad break up on a Wednesday. Well—Steve and Eddie break up on a Wednesday. It just feels like Dustin’s parents are getting a divorce.   or,   A study in divorce. (Well, sort of.)   PLEASE READ NOTES

[mugloversonly]

The Revenant of You

summary: Steve and Eddie finally have an honest chat

Chapter 4: Eddie

Eddie smiled when Robin slid next to him. “I told him he was a dick.” She whispered conspiratorially. “He wants to apologize, I told him I’d ask you to hear him out.” Eddie pursed his lips.

“I don’t know, Rob. I tried talking to him earlier and he completely lost his shit.” Eddie said softly. “I don’t need that kind of energy.” Robin nodded in understanding.

“I get it, I do. But he really does want to apologize. I told him if he says something stupid like that again, I’ll shave his head” Eddie smiled almost wickedly. He knew how protective Steve was of his hair. He must really mean it.

“Fine. Where?” Robin pointed to the outside patio.

“He’s waiting out there.” Eddie stood and made his way to the door. Lily blocked him momentarily.

“Daddy, can I have more cake?” She asked sweetly. Eddie spoiled her before the accident, but after, he had an even harder time saying no.

“Sure honeybee. Let Uncle Gareth help you though okay? We don’t want to get cake on your pretty dress.” Eddie said. Lily nodded and ran off. As he turned to the back door, his eyes caught on his band mates. They gave him a thumbs up and a wink. They must know what he was about to go do, and it was nice to see their approval especially since they saw it all.

Eddie took a deep breath and moved to the patio, opened it slowly to give himself a moment. All too soon, he stepped onto the patio facing Steve. He needed to keep the higher ground here. He refused to break the silence as he wrapped his arms around his torso, raised one eyebrow.

“I wanted to apologize.” Steve began, Eddie waved his hand in a, go on gesture. “Right. I’m sorry Eddie. What I said earlier was so unfair and uncalled for. You were right, I was being petty because you seemed happy without me in a way I never was without you.” Eddie sighed.

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it wasn’t. But I do forgive you.”

“Just like that?” Steve sighed with relief.

“Holding onto that anger would just be exhausting.” He explained but felt a little vindication when Steve’s shoulders fell. “Was that all?” Eddie asked ready to put this behind him, he was already turned back to go inside.

“No.” Steve whispered. Eddie turned around with a sigh. “I’m sorry about what happened between us. I shouldn’t have ended things like I did. I shouldn’t have ended it at all really.” Steve admitted, eyes down, ashamed.

“Why did you?” Eddie asked quietly. “If you regret it, why’d you do it in the first place?” He accepted a long time ago that he’d never get closure, but here it was in front of him.

“I was afraid you’d get so successful that you’d see how much better than me you could do and you’d break up with me. So, I did it first.” Steve shrugged, shame made him curl up his shoulders.

“You thought I’d break up with you after I got a taste of fame? You thought that little of me?” Eddie scoffed. He tried to bury his hurt, but by the look in Steve’s eyes, he didn’t do very well.

“No! No! I was insecure, it wasn’t anything to do with you.” Steve tried to reassure. “I knew you were willing to give up everything for me and I couldn’t be selfish like that.”

“You think it was selfish to take my offer, but not selfish to break my heart because you were scared? Interesting.” Eddie said sarcastically. He was trying to listen to Steve, he really was, but that was so fucking stupid.

“I know, stupid.” Steve replied as if he read Eddie’s mind.

“Damn right it was!” Eddie blurted. “I would have given up everything to be with you. You never asked me what I wanted.” He growled. “You just assumed!”

“Let me ask now. What did you want back then Eddie?” Steve asked softly. Eddie scoffed but when he met Steve’s eyes he saw he was serious. He grit his teeth.

“When I was younger I imagined having a few kids, being with someone I loved. I wanted that with you.” Eddie huffed a laugh. “I just wanted you. Everything else was just details.” He whispered. “Why couldn’t you want me like I wanted you? Why wasn’t I enough on my own?” A tear ran down his face much to his chagrin.

Steve reached out as if to wipe them away, but stopped at the last second. “I did.” He admitted quietly. “I wanted everything with you. You were more than enough, you were perfect.” He held his hand out in offer. Eddie stared at it, he couldn’t take it. Not yet any way.

“If that’s true, then you left me for no reason.” Eddie said with a hard look.

“I know.” Steve let his hand drop down to his side. “I let my insecurities get the better of me and I ruined everything.”

“It wasn’t just that I lost my husband.” Eddie whispered. “You were my best friend before we even dated. I haven’t talked to you for nearly ten years, Steve. I waited for you to reach out and you never did. Even if it was just to have this conversation, why didn’t you?” He wrapped his arms around himself. He thought they had something more, but he guessed Steve didn’t feel the same.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” Steve said. “And I couldn’t.” He looked down ashamed.

“Why couldn’t you?” He asked, ignoring the first part of Steve’s statement.

“Because I still love you.” Steve answered honestly.

Eddie reared back, unable to hide his pure disbelief. As if someone else moved his arm, he threw a right hook into Steve’s cheek.

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled. He wasn’t one for violence, but that was too far. Steve rubbed his face sheepishly.

“Yeah...I know.” Steve said. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighed, ran his hands over his face, and sat on a nearby bench. A few deep breaths later and he looked at Steve again. “Sorry for punching you.” He said. Steve shrugged.

“Had it coming.” Eddie pursed his lips in acknowledgment. Steve slid next to him and leaned back to look at the stars. “I won’t pretend that I didn't fuck up. I did, bad. More than leaving the love of my life,” Eddie stiffened at that. “I left my best friend. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness and I definitely don’t have a right to ask you to consider letting me be your friend again.” Steve turned to look at him, eyes never wavering. “But I’m going to ask for both anyway.”

“I wasn’t lying during my best man speech, Steve. I forgave you a long time ago.” Eddie admitted. “And I could really use a friend right now.” He continued. Steve lit up and went to give him a hug, but Eddie flinched back.

“Sorry” Steve said and made a motion for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not ready for anything more than friendship, Stevie. I might never be.” He whispered. As he looked into Steve’s eyes, he wanted to tell him everything. That losing Lyla was worse than losing Steve because even though it was sudden, Steve was still alive. There was a chance they could talk again. Eddie would never be able to talk to Lyla again. He’d never hear her voice, he’d never see her face, or feel her touch. He’d never hold her again, kiss her again, never see her smile, or hear her laugh. How do you tell someone who just admitted to you that you’re the love of their life, that he’s not yours?

“You’re my first love, Steve. I’ll always love you.” His smile was sad as he looked at the other man. “But, I love Lyla. It wouldn’t be fair to you, to me, to Lilith, or to Lyla’s memory to try for something more right now.” He turned away to gaze into the distance. “I miss her like crazy. I won’t be able to pretend like everything is fine. I won’t be able to not talk about her. I see things that remind me of her and I burst into tears. I look at Lily and I see Lyla’s face with my eyes. I worry I won’t be able to do her memory justice because, how the hell do I take care of black hair?! I know that might not seem like a big deal, but Lyla's hair was so important to her, she was an afro queen and I want to do right by her, you know? I dream about her. Fuck man, it’s like I can feel her here, right now too, watching over me. I can’t pretend that I’m not mourning the love of my life.” Eddie glanced to the side when he heard Steve gasp. It probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but that didn’t make it any less true.

“She’s the love of your life?” Steve asked quietly. Eddie nodded.

“She didn’t choose to leave me.” He said as if that explained everything. “Are you going to choose to leave again when my grief becomes too much for you? Will being my friend be enough?” He asked knowing how deep that would cut. “Are you going to choose to leave again if I can never be more than your friend?” He asked without waiting for an answer. “Because if the answer is yes or hell, even maybe, please don’t bother. I cant lose someone I love again. I can’t lose you again.”

Eddie turned to look at Steve and finally took his hand. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I am saying it may take a long, long time for me to feel ready. Are you prepared to stick around for that even knowing it may never happen?” He knew he wanted to say it would happen, he wanted it to, but he couldn’t be in a relationship with his heart hurting so much. His big eyes stared into Steve’s, trying to find the answer.

“I’d love to be your friend again and if you want to be more one day, I’ll be here. But I won’t leave you again, no matter what. I swear on Dustin’s mother.” Steve whispered holding tight to his hand. Eddie softly chuckled and smiled shyly.

“I’m giving you my trust again Steve. Don’t break it this time, okay?” Eddie practically begged.

“I promise.” Steve said, the conviction clear in his voice. Eddie nodded and smiled softly.

“Want to go dance with our girls?” He asked, to signal the end of the heavy conversation for now.

“Let’s.” Steve led the way back inside and the two men laughed when they saw Abby covered in cake.

“That’s why Gareth helped Lily with hers.” Eddie chuckled. Though when he looked over to his band mate, he saw Lily was still clean but Gareth was covered in cake.

He pulled wet wipes out of his pocket and passed some to Steve before handing some to his best friend.

As he watched Steve wipe his daughter’s face, he smiled, not now, but maybe one day, they could be a family.

See it on AO3 here if you liked this and you can, buy me a coffee you can do that here!