#steve and lucas

[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

[lukas-dusk]

Steve : You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Eddie : Oh, really? You’re an idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Steve : I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING THE KIDS WITH ME!

Lucas, picking up the monopoly board : I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @runninriot! You're lingerie fic idea is so GOOD!!

To be honest there hasn't been a lot of wormy ideas crawling through my covid brain fog, but this is what I've got.

~~~

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Mike saw a bully paying in blood for his past mistakes. A former king paying penance for every kid he ever stepped on, every girl he ever left behind. Steve's been trying to prove for months he's a better person than he used to be, that he actually deserves someone like Nancy. Well, Mike thinks this is a good start.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Dustin saw the coolest guy he knows stand up for a group of nerds. A rich kid with a nice car who was still willing to help him when he asked for it. Steve's never talked to him before, but when Dustin needed it, the guy dropped everything he was doing to keep him safe.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Max saw someone like her brother, but so, so unlike him in all the ways that mattered. A random high school guy took one look at her, just some random girl, and decided there was no difference between her and the boys, that he'd take her in under his protection the same as them. That in less than a day, Steve was more of a brother to her than Billy ever was.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Lucas saw a jock use his strength for good. He saw a boy who was no brains all brawn, captain of the swim team and basketball team, use those muscles to protect him and his friends. Someone who was strong enough to take on monsters and bullies without hesitation. Steve's the only Fighter the Party has, and maybe that's something Lucas can help with.

~~~

I can't stop thinking about how this scene should've been a more pivotal moment for Steve's character arc in relation to the Party.

Alright here's the tags! No pressure!

@lingeringmirth @cuips-not-cute @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @devondespresso @pearynice

[stobinesque]

For microfic: Steve & Lucas bonding (maybe a lil Erica too?) and your word is ‘imply’ 💗

oh no, I got all up in my Lucas feels 😭

prompt: 'imply' | wc: 250 | rating: G | tags: banter, basketball | Steve & Sinclair Sibs

"Are you implying I'm not cool, Sinclair?"

"He might be," Erica called from the stands. "But I'm not. I'm stating it outright: you're not cool, Steve!”

"Thanks, little Sinclair."

"Don't call me that, asshole!”

"Can you stop antagonizing her," Lucas asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Steve threw his arms in the air. "I'm antagonizing her?"

"Well what am I supposed to do, tell her to stop antagonizing people?”

"Fair point." Steve gestured to Lucas, indicating he pass the basketball. "Okay, if you're not going to take my advice to avoid the basketball team, then let me at least make sure your form is up to par."

"Isn't par a golf thing?"

"The nerd does know sports things!”

"Hey, I know basketball!"

"Funny, I've never heard you bring it up before now."

"Because he gets embarrassed that his little friends aren't gonna like him anymore if he becomes a jock."

Steve squinted. "Is that true?”

"No.” Lucas glared at Erica. "I just…it's not something they care about, so I don't bring it up."

"Oh. That's dumb."

"What?"

"What's the point of being friends if you don't talk about the stuff you like?”

"We talk about science and D&D all the time!"

"Yeah, but that’s stuff they like too. What about like—? Will’s art. D’you listen to him talk about that?"

"I mean, yeah…”

"And Max’s skateboarding? You listen to her talk about that?"

“Of course!”

“So are you the only person who doesn't talk about your interests?”

Oh.

I’m celebrating 250 followers with 250 word microfics! Requests are closed, but previous fills can be found here.

[king-zacharyy]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Here)

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"Oh, Maxie.." Steve breathed, pained, as his eyes landed on the prone teen.

"Steve! You should be resting." El said, not getting up from her spot at Max's bedside. Lucas was on her other side, and they were both holding Max's hands.

"Ellie," Steve said on a sigh. Robin wheeled him over to her, and he took her unoccupied hand. "I'm tired of resting. I needed to see my girls. How have you been, kiddo?"

Ellie's head dropped to his shoulder, and she squeezed his hand, practically sagging against him. "Tired. I missed you. I was not happy when I found out you were hurt. Again."

He winced, apologizing, and looked at Lucas. "Lu." He looked up from Max's hand, and Steve could see the tears gathering in his red eyes. "C'mere." He raised his free arm, and Lucas reluctantly let go of Max to tuck into Steve's side.

"She's going to be okay." And he believed that. Max was a fighter, and she had people to return to. "She's going to be okay. We're going to be okay."

Steve took a moment to look around the room, taking note that only Robin, Hopper, and Erica had joined them. It was then that he noticed the lack of one Susan Mayfield.

"Where’s her mom?" Steve asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"We don't know. No one has been able to get in contact with Ms. Mayfield since the earthquake. We're not even sure if she's alive." His dad's answer was enough confirmation in Steve's mind, though.

Susan wasn't doing good after Billy's death, and when Neil Hargrove up and left, she just got worse. She was drinking, he knew, and working all the time, but she loved Max. He knew she did. He could see it every time he talked to her about Max. If she was alive, she'd be here.

He nods and finally takes her in. Her right arm is wrapped in a cast. Little drawings, as well as The Party's names, are all over it in different colored sharpie. It draws a smile out of him. Both of her legs are also in casts, elevated by pillows, and also decorated. The air punched out of his lungs as he took in her face. She had an oxygen mask on, and her skin was pale. Her fire red hair was in two braids, and she looked– small.

Max was never small. Even when face-to-face with a demodog, she never shrank. Even in the face of Billy Hargrove threatening her friends and beating Steve's face in, she stood her ground.

Steve had to choke back a sob, guilt and despair clawing at his throat. This was his fault. It was his fault she got hurt. It was his fault Erica and Lucas got hurt. It was his fault Dustin got hurt. It was his fault Eddie almost died.

He was their protector. He was the one who took the hits. The kids weren't supposed to get hurt. That was his job. What good was he if he couldn't even do that? What reason would everyone have for sticking around if he was so useless?

Maybe it would be better if he had been taken instead of Barb back in '83. Then Nancy would have her best friend, Robin and Erica never would've been dragged into all of this, and Max and Eddie wouldn't be hospitalized right now.

"I can hear your self-deprication from here, Dingus. It's not your fault." Robin's voice snapped him out of his spiral, and he cut her a glare, without any heat behind it.

"It’s no one's fault but Vecna's. And Jason's." Lucas said into his shoulder, and Steve kissed the top of his head in thanks and acknowledgment.

It would probably take a while for him to genuinely believe them, but for now, he pushed the negative thoughts aside. No matter what, he wasn't letting any of the kids get hurt again on his watch. When Max woke up, and she would wake up, he would be there for her.

"Okay, kiddies. I've gotta go check on Eddie and Mike, but I'll be back in here when Robin next allows it. I love you both." He pressed a kiss to both El and Lucas' heads, squeezed them goodbye, and detangled from them with a not-small amount of reluctance.

Robin wheeled him to Max's head so he could press a kiss to her temple and whisper an, "I love you, Maxie. Get better soon, my little zoomer." With that sentiment, he was wheeled out of the room and towards Eddie's room.

"Where'd everyone else go?" He asked Hopper. Erica stayed with her brother, so it was just Robbie and his dad with him now.

"The Byers left to find a place to stay for the night, the Wheelers went with them, and Henderson said he was going to Munson's room."

"Eddie hasn't woken up yet. The doctor said that it might be a while before that happens because of how much blood he lost and the extent of his wounds. Mike was with him, but he was in your room a bit before you woke up. That's all I know so far, though, because I've mostly been with you." Robin added, and Steve's stomach dropped a bit with the news about Eddie.

Before Steve could comment or question further, they reached the room. He felt the last of the tension in his shoulders unwind at the sound of Eddie's heart monitor, secure in the knowledge that everyone in the party was alive.

"Hey, Dust." Robin parked him next to Dustin, where he was sitting in a chair by the bed. The boy immediately sagged into his side, and Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm going to go talk to your doctor and try to find Joyce." His dad said, ruffling his hair and leaving the room. Robin pulled up a seat on his right and clasped his hand in hers.

"So... Are we gonna talk about how you called Hopper 'Dad'?" Steve suppressed the blush that wanted to spread on his cheeks at Dustin's question, and ruffled his hair.

"What’s there to talk about? We're all aware my parents are shit, and over the last year, Hop's been more of Dad than my actual father. He is my dad. In all the ways that matter. And I refuse to be embarrassed about that."

Dustin gave him an analyzing look before nodding and resting his head back on Steve's shoulder.

Steve took a minute to take in Eddie's state and felt the same strangeness as he had with Max earlier.

Throughout the time that Steve had known him– both in school and over the past week– Eddie was in constant motion. From pacing to walking on tables to a bouncing leg to fidling with his rings to restless hands while talking. But he was never still.

Now he was– save for the rise and fall of his chest– motionless. And the last time Steve had seen him motionless was–

Steve's breath caught in his chest, a lump caught in his throat blocking his airway, and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't–

Steve felt this urgent, all-consuming need to feel Eddie's heartbeat, then. As though his own heart would stop beating if he didn't.

It was irrational, he knew. Steve could hear the drumming of his heart in his ears, and the EKG Eddie was hooked up to was beeping without a hitch to be seen or heard, but–

His fingers wrapped around a pale wrist– and when did he let go of Robin's hand?– thumb pressed to the pulse point there and waiting, waiting, waiting until–

Thump ... Thump ... Thump

The roaring in Steve's ears dissipated as his heart slowed to a matching beat, and he could finally breathe, almost like nothing had ever been wrong in the first place.

It should have been surprising, scary even, the speed at which Steve fell for the other man, but in reality? Well, he had known he liked both for a long while, and Steve had always loved hard and fast. Always gave his heart out as easily as someone handed out candy on Halloween. He always gave more than he received, and it always backfired.

(Well– that's not entirely true. It wasn't that way with Robin, but Robin had always been different. Robin was the first– and only– person where the give-and-take was equal. She was his best friend, his sister, his other half, the platonic love of his life. His soulmate. (With a capital P as they always emphasized) His Robbie.)

But– it wasn't like he could help it. No matter how many times his heart got stomped on, no matter how many people did the stomping, he couldn't stop giving his love. Even if he– and said love– was just bullshit.

This time would be different though, he promised. This time, he'd hold his love close to his chest. He'll feel it, but it won't be given. Steve was barely friends with Eddie, and honestly? If that was all he got? Steve thinks he could live. He thinks he could be content. As long as he has Eddie, even if he isn't his.

——————————————

Well, after some sever hiccups in the writing process as well as some writers block and lack of motivation, here is part 3! Don't worry, this is certainly not the last part, I only do Happy endings, nothing sad or hopeful.

——————————————

@thespaceantwhowrites @child-of-cthulhu @plantzzsandpencilzzs @thebadasshistorian @stevesbipanic @daeb820 @flocon-tourne-en-rond @melonmochi

[findafight]

I’m a sucker for Steve learning about the party’s interests, do you have any thoughts about the kinds of things he’d do for each party member? (E.g. he has the ability to recognize tony hawk, despite his inconspicuousness, because of max’s skateboarding)

Actually now I'm obsessed with the idea that Steve is one of the few people who are not personal friends with him who is able to identify Tony Hawk without a skateboard. Like. Steve is an athlete and respects athleticism, and gives credit where it is due. (He does NOT allow making fun of Olympic athletes, even the weird sports, just because some people don't appreciate how hard you work for it.) So he's like "wow that Tony guy sure is talented. He is so high in the air. Good for him." And never forgets his face. At some point someone shares one of those "didn't recognize actual skate legend Tony Hawk " stories except it ends with "and then the guy in pastels standing beside Eddie Munson slapped his (Eddie's) chest and went "hey!! That's Tony Hawk!! Let's see if we can get an autograph for Max!" And I realized I had been making awkward small talk about cocktail weenies with sports legend Tony Hawk while working up the courage to ask Eddie Munson for an autograph."

He also tries to learn how to Ollie but he's actually really nervous and wears all the protective gear possible and is only able to go forward. (This is from my personal experience being post concussive and not a good skater. It's scary! My brain meat is delicate!) But Max tells him it's okay and talks about the skatepark in California and some of her old friends from there, and he tries to teach her how to make fried rice.(one of the only actual meals that isn't breakfast food he can cook really well completely from scratch) She gets him to do her hair with El because Steve is the only other person who understands that for El hair is a means of control, and that taking care of it is something important to that feeling.

He and El do jigsaw puzzles together and listen to folk music I think. El would appreciate having the option to talk or not, and likes listening to Steve talk too. Also I like jock El so he gets her overly invested in the Cubs like tells her all the lore and she's obsessed with the goat and she joins a softball team. When she first yells at an umpire for a bad call Steve almost cries of pride. Like. Finally. He's not the only one who Gets It.

Lucas and him bond over basketball yes. But Lucas doesn't yell at refs, and Steve gets why but thinks it's very fun when people yell at officials. Also I think they watch clouds together after practicing. Just nice peaceful, laying on warm blacktop and staring at the sky. Maybe El joins them and Lucas and El can bond this way too. Steve and his little jock siblings. (Why does no one consider max a jock for skateboarding? I guess it wasn't really seen as a sport for a long time...hm..)

Steve also bought a flat of new coke before they stopped selling it and keeps it for Lucas on movie nights or whatever and everybody always yells and groans because where is getting that!! It was discontinued!! Also they watch anime together. Erica and Robin join.

I can see him getting into some video games with Dustin and Mike and Lucas. Only the two or more player ones though he doesn't like playing alone. Like. Okay this whole post has anachronisms but please imagine him playing Lego Star Wars (complete saga) with Dustin. The chaos. The yelling.

He's absolutely a pinball guy. They go to the arcade and everyone does their thing but then end up cheering Steve on as he goes for idk star trek pinball glory. Without even tilting it! Idk what to tell you but Steve def loves pinball.

Also before his dad cut him off or after he gets some kind of inheritance he does a very financially secure impulse buy: he purchases an arcade game. Full size. I am partial to Asteroids because that's what my dad impulse bought in the 80's and had it in our basement growing up but let's keep this going he has a themed pinball machine. Icon.

He 100% reaches Dustin to drive. Mrs. Henderson asked him because Steve just looked sad when she mentioned teaching him and she was like well...we could BOTH teach him :) (because she has mentally adopted him. She told him to call her Ma and he does and Robin is like Steve. That's your mum now. And Steve's like no... Everybody calls her that. And she saysnSteve. Only Dustin. Her actual literal son. Calls her that. Guess what that makes YOU.)

Steve and whole party Lego Building Buddies? Mayhaps?

I wish tamagotchis were out in the 80's because Steve would be so diligent a Tama babysitter Erica would sell his services to her friends if they needed it lmao. He'd get all squinty and concentrated you know he'd highscore jump rope but not get the shapes game (me too buddy). Alas. Not to be.

Instead he listens to her talk about her elementary and middle school drama while looking for four leaf clovers. He also has watched MLP with her and may have teared up a little. Also, of course, she is his one true Game Master. Sorry Eddie

Mike is harder...maybe they bond over making snarky comments about people in movies, and then talk about how actually is car racing a sport? And it'd be sort of awkward because Mike has Nancy as an older sibling (even if they don't get along) and he's holding on to animosity that's pointless now. Plus Dustin and Lucas both seem to see Steve as a big brother and friend figure, but like. It's a bit weird for Mike. But still, Mike knows if he bikes to Steve's at two am he'll be hauled in and forced to sit down and asked if he wants a hug and hot chocolate.

Same with will, except Will has Jonathan (El does to but it's different) so at first they're sorta🧍🧍 staring at each other. Steve has to be like sooooo wanna. Tell me about Wizards? Or something? Cool...rocks? And Will would realize that this guy's just, y'know. A guy. Probably similar to Mike except he's not begrudging about it.

I guess a lot of Steve and the party is him listening to them and letting them actually be silly and kids, making snarky comments about the highschool dramas happening, and encouraging them to try different things (he did!) And figure out what they like outside of what they think the rest of the party likes.

[asuperconfusedgirl]

how I read the most toe-curling, spine-shattering, nerve-wrecking, nastiest smut ever written in this god forsaken app

[igotthejob]

this is every fanfic i read

[lavenderstobins]

stranger tweets part 14

[previous] [next]

all previous parts: [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 5.5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

what if the first time steve and eddie actually meet is when steve picks up dustin, mike, and lucas from hellfire a month or so into their freshman year.

and when steve starts dicking around and roughhousing with dustin a bit.. thats when eddie sees him

him.

steve harrington.

king steve harrington.

king steve harrington, jock extraordinaire fucking with his new (pretty brittle, he got told off for the same thing at the beginning of the year by mike and lucas) sheepie

Eddie’s at the car in next to no time at all, tears steve off henderson, and punches him square in the face

edit: full thing here

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 ao3

When the doorbell rings, it isn’t Lucas. It’s Erica.

“Lucas is coming,” she says, hopping off her bike and picking up a plastic bag that’s looped around the handlebars. “I told him to give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Eddie says. He tips from concern into something approaching bemusement as Erica throws the bag at him; when he catches it, he feels the coldness of it, opens it up to find two tubs of ice-cream.

Erica side-steps him into the hall, calls over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Eddie, or it’s gonna melt.”

Eddie laughs. “Hi to you, too.”

When he reaches the kitchen, Erica has already opened the freezer to clear a space, Steve watching her from the counter with a look of benign amusement.

“I’d better be compensated for this,” Erica is saying. She points at the space she’s made, and Eddie dutifully slots the tubs inside. “This goes against the you supplying me with free ice-cream for life deal.”

“You literally ate my ice-cream,” Steve says. “Besides, I kinda figured that contract was null and void when Scoops went kaput.”

Erica shuts the freezer door. “I didn’t have a contract with Scoops, I had one with you.”

And she stops. “Have,” she corrects quietly.

No longer able to focus on putting the ice-cream away, her hands fall to her sides. Her little smile drops, and all at once, Eddie is reminded that she’s just eleven years old.

Steve’s face softens. “Why’re you really here, Erica?”

“Lucas,” Erica starts, then pauses—but that’s an answer all of its own, Eddie thinks. She collects herself, looks Steve directly in the eye. “He might not… get it all out.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve says.

“He was…” Erica glances down. “I don’t wanna see him like that. Ever again.”

“Hey, look at me.” Steve’s tone is gentle. “I’m sorry.”

Erica sighs loudly; Eddie can hear the frustration and hurt in it, but mostly the love. “You don’t have to—that’s not why I’m telling you,” she says. “I don’t…” Her eyes widen a little. “I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

Steve smiles at her, lifts up one arm in offering. He makes a beckoning gesture. “Help a guy out? I don’t have travelling by bar stool down yet.”

“Was that meant to be funny? Pathetic,” Erica replies, but she’s heading over to him as she says it, lets herself be pulled into a hug.

Steve whispers something in her ear—Eddie half-hears it as a crack about her ice-cream preferences, and she giggles a bit, does a more dramatic sigh and says, “Nothing can cure your poor taste, Steve.”

She settles into the hug.

Eddie thinks of the slip up she made. Had, have. Past, present. Hates that she was forced into thinking of Steve in the past tense—for even a second is a second too long.

As Erica heads out, she turns to Dustin, who’s sitting out on the driveway, waiting for Lucas to show up.

“Look after him,” she says with an intensity that might’ve been funny if Eddie hadn’t known all that had caused it.

Dustin chuckles slightly. He jerks his head back to the house, where Eddie stands at the front doormat. “Which one?”

Erica grins, looks a little lighter. “I meant Lucas, but guess you’ve got your hands full. You’re the babysitter now.”

As she gets back on her bike, Eddie calls after her. “What, don’t I get any orders?”

She glances at him over her shoulder, one foot on the pedal. Her gaze lingers for a couple of beats, and he thinks of her staring him down at Hellfire, sharp and analytical. But now there’s a softness there, too.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, I suppose,” she says, and her lips twitch into a smile that’s just pretending to be sardonic, and Eddie feels his heart swell.

-

Dustin sits with him on the stairs. When Lucas arrived, he barely said a word, not even to Dustin, instead heading through the hallway like someone marching towards the gallows.

They stay put, giving a semi-illusion of privacy—voices can travel far in this damn house—but they can hardly hear anything right now, just the soft rumble of speech, the rise and fall of a question, then silence.

“Can I tell you something?” Dustin mumbles haltingly.

“Sure,” Eddie says, and means Of course you fucking can. Always.

“It was my fault,” Dustin says into his knees, “with… Max. When I was—Lucas, he came to get me when you, um. When you drove away.”

Eddie doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he feels a pang of guilt which Dustin must notice, because he nudges Eddie’s forearm.

“I was kinda… freaking out. A lot, actually. By the time we got to the house, Max, she—she’d already stopped listening to her tape. I… I gave her time to think about it, you know? If we were quicker, we might’ve…”

Stopped it. Eddie’s all too familiar with that sentiment.

“You know, like with Steve. He… he must’ve thought about—about it for ages when he…” Dustin clears his throat. “When he saw the clock.”

Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Steve had made his decision in a split-second, like it was inevitable; like he’d already committed to it long ago, stared that awful option down and came to the conclusion easily, if it meant everyone else would be safe.

-

“This is stupid,” Dustin announces after another five minutes have passed without them overhearing anything, not even the whisper of a voice.

He’s down the stairs before Eddie can even think about stopping him. Even if he had been quick enough, he’s not sure if he would’ve decided to stop him in the first place. Shit, he’s not all that sure about anything; there’s no guidebook for this.

He follows Dustin into the kitchen, sees him standing by the fridge; Lucas is sitting at the counter, holding a glass of water Steve must’ve instructed him to take.

Steve is speaking with a quiet urgency, his eyes pleading as he considers Lucas searchingly. “You don’t—don’t need to be nice to me or anything, dude. I can take it. Don’t, like… tread on eggshells on my account.”

“It was my fault,” Dustin interrupts.

Lucas frowns, shakes his head.

And Eddie and Steve speak in unison, a firm rebuttal: “Dustin.”

They jolt in surprise, glance at each other—and then Dustin snorts and says, “Holy shit, that was like a sitcom. Did you, like, practice that or are you just losers?”

And that makes Lucas laugh into his glass of water.

And then… maybe it helps, the echo of laughter in a room, even if it’s only for a moment.

Because suddenly Lucas just launches right into it: how he ran back inside, Dustin in tow and, still catching his breath, it had taken him a few seconds to realise that he couldn’t hear Max’s tape playing.

“Erica noticed first,” he stays, staring into the glass of water. “Her voice went all strange and—I’d never heard her like—like that before. Then she pointed, and I saw… Max had taken her headphones off.”

He grips the glass tightly. The back of his hand dashes away the tears at first, but then he just lets them fall—slow and sluggish tracks, like he’s not even aware that he’s crying anymore.

“Steve, she was… She was begging. For—for him to…”

Steve breathes out, passes a hand across his face. “Jesus, Sinclair, I’m—”

“I love her so much,” Lucas whispers with a certainty that’s much greater than his years, “but I c-couldn’t reach her. It was like she—the only thing that stopped her was…”

“When everything went to shit,” Dustin says when it’s clear Lucas can’t go on.

And it’s like Eddie can hear it, suddenly—that oppressive silence. Feeling like there was no air left to breathe, that there never would be again.

“Steve? Steve.”

Steve’s eyes, glassy and gone, no light behind them. The awful stillness of his chest.

The world ripping apart.

Eddie presses a finger hard to the inner corner of one eye, a vain attempt to block out the image. He thinks of the kids being thrown to their knees with the force of it, a window shattering—and as the rest of Hawkins screamed with no understanding, they would know exactly what it meant.

Lucas and Dustin look like they’re reliving it, too, their faces drawn.

Eddie thinks back to the RV, when Nancy first laid out the apocalyptic vision that had been forced upon her. Eddie, once again a silent watcher in the crowd, his eyes drifting over them all, noticing every twitch, every grim set to their mouth—a horrifying sense of resignation. Eddie thinking yet again that Jesus, they’re used to this.

He had thought that he’d reached his breaking point with Chrissy’s death, and then…

But the others, they’ve had years of this, stretched thin like elastic. Eddie remembers as they began the drive back to Hawkins, as the rest of them gradually dropped off to sleep. Remembers thinking, right before he caught Steve’s whisper, How much more can they take?

It’s Steve’s voice that brings him back. He starts a little at the sound.

“Lucas, you… you would’ve reached her, okay? You’d have brought her back, I know that you…”

There’s a look that passes between the three of them, Steve, Dustin and Lucas: some shared understanding. They’d barely talked about what happened when Vecna’s curse took hold of Max, apart from the song that saved her. The most Eddie is aware of is that it happened in the graveyard.

The rest is not for him to know, he thinks.

“Look, I’m not—I’m not in her head, but I don’t think she wanted to—to—” Steve says, and he stumbles a bit over the words, voice growing a little thick with emotion. “She was… scared. Really scared. And that’s—that’s on me, man.”

For barely a second, Steve’s eyes flicker over to Eddie’s. Then he looks away.

“I’ll talk to her,” Steve says, and it sounds like I’ll fix it, I’m sorry, I swear. His shoulders tense, and Eddie can practically feel it, another load this fucking selfless boy takes on like it’s as natural as breathing, and he kind of wants to cry.

He doesn’t.

-

Max doesn’t ring the doorbell, opens the front door so quietly that Eddie only notices when a gust of wind shuts it behind her.

After a grateful phone call from Steve, Claudia Henderson had given Lucas and Dustin a ride home; the emptiness of the house is now all too apparent as Max stares Eddie down in the hallway.

“Hey, Red,” Eddie says, aims to be soft enough to soothe, not too much for fear that it’ll get her hackles up. He can feel the tension within her, can almost hear the grinding of her teeth. He can’t fuck this up. One wrong move, and she’ll run.

He gestures through to the living room. She clips him with her shoulder as she barges past him, and that’s fine; if it makes it hurt a little less for her, he’ll take more than that.

She stands in front of the couch where Steve sits. She wraps one arm around herself, a move Eddie recognises. Unconscious self-defence. He thinks of her voice over the walkie, still managing to laugh at Steve’s movies. Marvels in a horrified sort of way at how long she’s been pushing everything down.

“I’m sorry,” Max says. She looks down at the floor.

Eddie moves slowly, stands at the end of the couch, not too close to Max. Steve turns to him very slightly, eyes flitting between the two of them.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear it to know what Steve means. Be careful.

Eddie barely moves his head in a nod. I know.

“I’m not staying long, so just.” Max raises her chin, and her eyes are burning—and people who didn’t know any better might call that defiance. Eddie doesn’t. “Just tell me.”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. He glances down at the coffee table, where the cracked tape still lies.

“Tell you what, Max?” he asks, so quiet, so worried—like he’s scared that with just one word, he’ll ruin everything.

“What I did wrong,” Max says. She scrubs at her eyes, blinks up at the ceiling, and Steve’s face falls.

“You didn’t—”

Max sighs harshly. “I’m not stupid. You can—” She turns to Eddie, and he watches in horror as she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing herself, like Eddie might crack first, might give her the judgement she’s desperately searching for. “You can say it.”

“Max,” Steve says.

“I fucked up the plan. It was meant to be me. There—there must’ve been a reason that he—”

“No,” Steve says, and the word is strong, his resolve clear. “Max, listen to me. No.”

But Max shakes her head. “I must’ve done something, I know I did, I made him get in your head—”

“That’s not how it works,” Steve says, kind but firm. “Max, it was—nothing is worth you—”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” Max whispers. “I was marked already, asshole, he was coming back to claim—”

“Oh my god, no,” Steve repeats. “Max, what? He had no claim on you, you never deserved—”

“And you did?” Max challenges. Her lips are trembling.

“No,” Steve says, gentle. “But… hey, listen, it. It would’ve been—”

“No, it wouldn’t have been!” Max explodes, and she’s shaking where she stands, like she might break apart. “It wouldn’t have been worth it or okay or whatever bullshit you were about to—”

“All right, all right—”

“You would’ve been gone.” And all at once, she goes very still. “You were gone.”

She pinches the skin on the back of her hand, hard enough to hurt, and Eddie thinks that’s enough.

He walks over, as slowly as he can. He doesn’t touch her, but he stands close enough that she could reach out if she wanted to.

God, Red. Please let me help you.

Max snarls as he lifts one hand in offering. “Fuck off,” she breathes, and she strikes out, hits him in the chest. It’s hard enough for him to have to bite back a gasp, but that’s fine; as far as he’s concerned, she can hit him all she likes.

But that doesn’t last long. At some point, her hand clenches around his shirt, and she just holds on.

Hardly daring to breathe, he slowly reaches out and steadies her, both hands around her elbows.

“Easy, I’ve got you. You wanna… walk with me? That’s it, there you—”

Eddie only lets go after he leads her to Steve. She sobs, once, twice, then the dam breaks as Steve sits up, pulls her close.

“Max, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It wasn’t fucking fair. Shh, hey, hey, there was nothing you could’ve—oh, baby.” His voice fades away for a moment, the barely held back tears audible. He kisses her temple. “Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I’m here, okay? Shh, shh. Hey, we made it, huh? We’re gonna be all right.”

She cries it out for a while—eventually, all Eddie can hear is her stuttering breaths, slowly evening out.

“Oh,” Steve sighs shakily, and he strokes Max’s hair off her face, catches Eddie’s eye and mouths over the top of her head: She’s asleep.

Eddie gets a blanket from the arm of the couch, tucks it around her—knows that Steve won’t be moving one inch, not even when the angle he’s sitting at is bound to make his leg ache.

“I’ll call her… mom?” Eddie says, cautiously.

Steve thinks about it, then nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs, presses another kiss to Max’s temple when her chin dips down in sleep. “That should be… Lucas said that they’re both staying with his folks for a bit.”

As Steve’s speaking, a tear falls down his cheek. You’d never have known, Eddie thinks, not unless you were looking for it.

On impulse, he runs a hand through Steve’s hair before heading to the phone, and hopes that it says enough.

-

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Steve says dully. He’s fiddling with one of his pills, rolling it back and forth on the counter.

Eddie pauses, mid-taking a can of Coke out of the fridge. It’s just the two of them again, an exhausted Max picked up by her mother, who somehow barely batted an eye when Eddie answered the door and led her to her still sleeping daughter; Dustin picking up schoolwork—of all things—from his house.

“Like what?”

Steve swallows the pill dry, which makes Eddie inwardly wince.

“I hoped it wouldn’t be like this,” he corrects, not answering the question.

Eddie leans against the counter with his hip, opens the can. Waits.

“It’s just… I spent some time thinking about it, you know? Well.” Steve laughs humourlessly. “Not like I had that much time to… weigh it all up, but…” He sighs. “I thought they’d be okay, if…”

Eddie sets down the can before his hand can shake.

“It’s just. Like. I know you weren’t there for it all, but I guess I kinda… got used to them bouncing back? Sort of. Um, we all needed to.” He swallows. “I had to think that they’d be okay,” he whispers. “That was, like, one of the only thoughts that kept me from…” Steve shakes his head, eyes far-off again, and for a moment they’re in the RV, and Steve is saying, gaze fixed determinedly ahead, Listen, I can see a clock in the middle of the goddamn road, okay?

“From losing it,” Steve finishes.

There’s a tremor to Steve’s fingers as they drum on the counter, uneasy taps.

Eddie reaches over, gently stills him—two of his fingers resting on Steve’s knuckles.

“They bounced back from monsters, Steve,” he says slowly. “Not from… not from losing people.” From losing you.

Steve covers his eyes with the hand Eddie isn’t touching. Breathes in and out. Shudders.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, choked. “Just… ignore me for a second, Eddie.”

At first, Eddie tries to, because that’s what Steve had asked, but then Steve’s hand moves on the counter, until he’s gripping onto Eddie’s hand tightly; and Eddie holds on as Steve’s tremor moves up through his arm, his chest, until it’s all of him.

Do you see the gaping hole you would have left? Eddie thinks. Bites down on his lip to keep from crying, because this isn’t about him. Do you see how much they would have missed you?

Do you get it now, how much they love you?

But as Steve weeps for his family, for himself, Eddie can’t hold back the thought, as inevitable as the tide going out.

I would have fucking mourned you forever.

-

Sometimes in between the afternoon and evening doses of medicine, Steve drifts off into a kind of waking sleep—he’s still there enough to be roused if someone asks him a question, but his head nods sleepily more often than not, half-caught in a dream.

In the quiet, Dustin returns, finds a gap in the couch so he can sit next to Steve without jostling him—then sets about doing homework, and Eddie can’t begin to imagine how he’s focusing on it. But then again, Dustin has the kind of mind that once wanted to solve a Russian code for kicks in the summer vacation.

It’s peaceful.

Peaceful until Steve’s head jerks up with a ragged gasp.

And before Eddie can even say anything, Steve grips Dustin by the shoulders.

“Oh, you’re—” Steve exhales, chest catching on it. “Oh.”

His eyes are wild, darting all over Dustin, face cracked open with a vulnerability he’d never show if he was fully awake. His hand reaches up, moves through Dustin’s hair, searching, searching.

“Steve,” Dustin says, but it’s not a question. Like he kind of knows, understands just enough without being told.

And as Steve cups the back of Dustin’s head, Eddie gets it. He’s looking for blood.

“It wasn’t real, Steve,” Dustin says, with a clarity and kindness that makes Eddie think oh, I fucking love you, Dustin Henderson. “We’re good. Okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve answers, hooks his chin over Dustin’s head and hugs him. -

When the phone rings, Eddie picks up quickly; Dustin and Steve are both fast asleep, heads lolling onto the back of the couch.

It’s Wayne—and he doesn’t sound all that surprised to hear Eddie answer.

“How’d you know I was still here?” Eddie asks.

“Made an educated guess,” Wayne says. He sounds fond. “That and Joyce Byers called.”

Oh, Eddie thinks. And then, of course she did.

“We’re on the list,” Wayne says, “to get re-housed. S’going quicker than expected. Reckon that they,” he stresses the word like it’s a capital They, “don’t wanna give folks too much time to complain.”

He says it with such ease, and Eddie’s suddenly thrown back to him arriving at the trailer, small and angry and afraid, and Wayne just looking at him, saying gently, “Well, kid, we’ll make it work.”

Eddie sighs into the receiver. “I’m sorry—”

“Ed, shut the hell up,” Wayne says through an obvious smile, and Eddie chokes out a laugh that’s slightly wet around the edges.

-

The phone rings again, and this time it’s Jim Hopper.

“Look alive, Munson. Got a number for you.”

“Oh, uh.” Eddie runs about for a notepad and pen. “Okay?”

Hopper fires off a number which Eddie copies down and underlines, just because it feels like that’s the kind of thing he should do.

“That’s a private number, got it? Ring if there’s any trouble.”

“Um, sure,” Eddie says. “I’ll, uh. I’ll tell Steve.”

“No, kid, that’s for you,” Hopper says before abruptly hanging up.

When Eddie sets the phone down, Steve is sitting up, Dustin stirring and grumbling a complaint. He hears Steve laugh under his breath: “That’s what you get for trying to do math right now, dude.”

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor in front of them. Thinking.

“You okay?” Steve asks.

“Jim Hopper’s fuckin’ weird,” Eddie says distantly.

Steve snorts. “Wow. And that’s coming from you.”

Dustin giggles himself awake as Eddie flips him the bird.

-

Jonathan Byers comes round just as Dustin heads upstairs to use the shower which—okay, sure. Eddie’s getting used to the whole people coming and going thing, and in theory he knows that obviously Jonathan’s been around for this since the beginning, but it’s another thing to see it in person.

It’s like an annoyingly stubborn part of his brain is still stuck on high school, looking at Jonathan and Steve in the same room, whining: But that’s not right—your kind don’t mix.

Jonathan’s polite, Eddie will give him that, but it’s obvious from the outset that he’s just here to speak to Steve.

Eddie leaves them to it in the living room, but it’s hard not to overhear, even when he’s doing his best to concentrate on the hum of the microwave as he heats through casserole.

“She’s staying in her room a lot, and you know what her mom’s like, Steve, she won’t—”

“Yeah, Robin said she tried to call, got no answer.”

“The most I could get her to talk was when she was with Holly. It’s like she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Yeah, I… God, I don’t know. Wish I knew how to…”

“Me, too. But you’ll… you’ll call right, if she…? Fuck, it scares me sometimes, she’s so quiet. Don’t know if she’ll even turn to anyone.”

“Yeah, Jonathan, ‘course I’ll… Look, it’s just. It’s just been a lot, man. For all of us. She just needs some time, I think.”

“Yeah, I—sorry. I just worry.”

“Me, too.”

Eddie punches the buttons, sets the microwave on again before it can screech at him.

Jonathan leaves soon after that, gives Eddie a slightly awkward but sincere smile, bids goodbye to Steve with a, “Look after yourself, Steve.”

There’s a weight behind those words.

“Wheeler okay?” Eddie asks, once the front door has shut.

Steve sighs. “Hope so.”

The silence is heavy, and because Eddie can’t leave well enough alone, and apparently has a compulsion to put his foot in his mouth when it comes to this pair, blurts out, “Yeah, I kinda thought you two were a sure thing, man.”

Steve gives him a sideways look that Eddie can’t quite read. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

Steve shrugs. “Like… imagine other people’s futures.”

It’s not said, but Eddie can hear the instead of your own loud and clear.

The embarrassment is expected. What isn’t is how he strangely welcomes it—no-one’s seen him like that before, cut right down to the core of him.

It’s his turn to shrug. “Kind of? It’s… you know what this town’s like, man. People and, like, how it’s all gonna turn out… some folks’ lives are easier to imagine than, uh. Others.”  

It was a bit like solving a simple puzzle piece: it had been easy to imagine Nancy and Steve together, to picture them as they were back then, young and sweet in the school corridors… using the belief in them as a sure thing to try and keep himself from losing it in a world turned (literally) upside down.

Steve’s lips twitch at the corners into a little smile. “Thought your whole thing was how people can defy expectations, or whatever.”

“Yeah, well. Even I’m not immune to hypocrisy, Harrington.”

Steve huffs a laugh. Hums. “I think I was always meant to love her,” he says, slow and thoughtful, “just… not in that way.”

“…Oh.”

Steve’s smile shifts into something melancholy. “I think we were both lonely, y’know? And, like… too similar. We both got trapped in our heads whenever shit went sideways. So if we needed, like, help or just… we couldn’t… couldn’t reach each other. Does that make sense?”

Eddie nods faintly.

“Eddie, can you promise me something?”

Eddie nods again, holds Steve’s gaze. Anything.

“Nance, if she—if she comes to you, just… be there for her?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but Steve keeps talking.

“I mean, ‘cause, you’re a good listener, man. And you’re kind. You can… see people.”

And Eddie suddenly has to hold his breath. He knows what Steve is referring to, thinks of how he recounted his meeting with Chrissy in the woods, as the group hiked from Skull Rock. I don’t know, man, I just knew something was up with her. Like, something was really wrong.

But the way Steve speaks to him—there’s more underneath the words. Kind of sounds like You can see me, too.

Eddie swallows through the burning in his throat. “I will,” he promises.

[princessdave]

Hopper accidentally becomes the biggest ally in Hawkins out of hatred for Mike Wheeler. El wants to date Max? Perfect, Mike is terrified of Max. El wants to date Max and Lucas? Even better, more people to keep Mike away. Will comes out to Joyce and Hop? Hopper is immediately studying up on gay culture and flagging so he can find him a Hop ApprovedTM boyfriend. He sees that nice boy Gareth cuff his jeans one time and starts inviting him to family dinner. Mike seems annoyed that Steve is spending more time with Munson? A pamphlet titled “Accepting your Bisexuality” finds its way into Steve’s jacket pocket. Hopper has never seen Mike as furious as the day Steve and Munson arrive at dinner holding hands. It’s a good day. Hopper isn’t sure how Nancy dating the Buckley girl will annoy Mike, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Last Sentence Tag Game

The lovely @steviewashere tagged me in this. It's been a few days, but better late than never!

I've been falling off the WIP wagon... but I did manage to get a few paragraphs done for The Babysitter Chronicles after I wrote my friend's wedding vows.

The Babysitter Chronicles

“Hello, Mrs. Sinclair,” his voice cracks, and he winces. “Umm, my name’s–” “Steve Harrington,” she says, hesitant but not unkindly. “Yes, I know.” He swallows, desperately maintaining an appropriate amount of eye contact. On top of everything else, that sentence alone could mean so much. “Right, yeah,” he says. “I was hoping I could talk to you and Mr. Sinclair about Lucas. About what happened.” His gaze has drifted back toward the pavement. He runs a nervous hand through his hair only for it to pull at his fresh stitches. Pain flairs across his skull. He drops his hand to his sides, shoving them in his pockets to keep still.  It's dark and quiet, the light snowfall softening the night air. The silence stretches for so long he expects to be turned away, until he hears a soft sigh. “Come in then,” she says, stepping to the side to open the door fully. “I’m sure we’ll all want to sit down for this.”

Thanks again for the tag! I'll be taking a long break from writing to help with my friend's vows and general wedding planning.

[mollymurakami]

were we just kids, just starting out

[changenamelater]

Give me good at math Steve. Maybe he’s dyslexic and words never made sense and always swam away from him, but numbers? He can memorize formulas, he can recognize patterns.

I feel like it would add so much dimension to his character. I always like it in fic when they write Steve knowing a second language, or playing an instrument because I feel like the fandom has taken this idea that Steve is incompetent and ran with it. He’s incredibly clever, and sarcastic (a sign of intelligence btw), and snarky. He thinks quickly, is it well thought out? Not always, but that’s just his lack of self preservation skills. People can be smart and idiots at the same time, they can have their strengths and I wish that was portrayed more in fic and fandom.

So let him be good at math. Let him just be able to make sense of it. Show him tutoring El and assisting Lucas and Max when Mike and Dustin seem too condescending or intimidating or bitchy.

He’ll be bitchy too, but in an understanding way, because he knows what it’s like to struggle with something others find simple.

Also give us a scene where Mike or Dustin find out and flip their lids PLEASE