#steve has a crush on eddie

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“What’s your favorite color?”

“My what?”

“Your favorite color, sweetheart.” Eddie Munson fondly rolled his eyes before he lifted them to look at the side of Steve Harrington’s face. “We’ve all got one, so what’s yours?”

Steve Harrington is pretty. It’s easy to admit. He’s got the whole All-American vibe down. But there’s also a softness there that Eddie hadn’t expected, something he’s only become more aware of since he started to hang around the younger man more.

Steve shrugged, a loose roll of his shoulders, and then had the bottle of beer he’d been nursing all night pressed back to his bottom lip. He doesn’t take a sip though, just holds it there. Eddie knows that Steve can drink, had seen him push past all sorts of different keg records back in high school. Obliterated them, in fact. Only being beat out by (and may he rest in peace) Billy Hargrove. But he’s caught onto this more. Noticed that there are just some days where… Steve doesn’t.

Steve sat the bottle down without taking a sip.

“I don’t know if I have one.” Steve finally admitted after a beat, and Eddie can’t help but let out a hum at the admission. It’s enough to prompt Steve to continue, however. “I mean, I think all of them are pretty. Y’know? Kinda like people?”

“Ah, so you think everyone’s pretty?” It’s a tease that Eddie can’t help but make.

Ladies man Steve Harrington. Ladies man Steve Harrington who is always being hit on. Ladies man Steve Harrington who Eddie knows just went on a date at lunch time. Knows this because Steve didn’t have lunch with him.

“Sure, I mean… I think you’re pretty.” Steve said with a shrug, as if that sentence isn’t enough to send Eddie off kilter. As if he hasn’t just flipped Eddie’s world upside down and shaken it about. The bottle is back against Steve’s bottom lip.

“I think you’re pretty too, Harrington.” Eddie kept his own admission soft, as if he is scared to admit it in the dead of night. He is.

Steve grinned before he took a slow sip of beer.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie goes up to Hopper like the world isn’t about to end and is like, “How’d you bag a babe like Joyce Byers? She’s so out of your league. How’d you do it?”

Hopper just sputters because rude and he knows. Before he can even answer, Murray’s annoying ass cuts in, “They argued all the time until the sexual tension got too high.”

“Arguing,” Eddie nods, taking that in. “Got it, I’m on the right track.”

Then he turns around and yells on the top of his lungs, “Harrington! I think Abba sucks!!”

“Are you kidding me right now, Munson?!”

[batbitten86]

elementary school teacher steve harrington who is married to rockstar eddie munson that is completely taken care of, he doesn’t need to have a job but loves teaching kids so much. he just wants to make sure these kids have a safe space because school was always his place to get away from his parents and eventually the empty house, so he uses all of the salary he gets from teaching and just puts it back into his classroom and the kids he teaches he just wants to make sure everyone feels special in his classroom. (and the kids think it’s a magic trick he’s able to get a real life ROCKSTAR to show up to his classroom to bring him flowers or lunch)

[steddietogo]

Metal head musician Eddie Munson’s black cat Strider who loves pop music and screams at Eddie every time he picks up his electric guitar.

Strider’s favorite is pop princess Steve Harrington’s newest album. Eddie knows each song word for word (he’ll never admit it)

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[n33dlew0rk]

I, too, am small but feisty

I’m thinking about Steve cleaning the pool while Eddie is half asleep on a deckchair. 

He’s slick with sweat, carefully pulling the skimmer net through the warm water, catching leaves and quite an array of dead bugs.

He’s nearly done when, all of a sudden, from the woods surrounding the backyard, comes something hurtling directly towards the pool. It’s just a small brownish undefined shape, but it still startles Steve (you know, otherworldly creatures tend to have a soft spot for Hawkins’ forests, fields, malls, whatever).

He hurries to the other side of the pool as soon as the little thing falls right into the chlorine water with an uncoordinated splash. 

As he gets closer, Steve sees a little squirrel gasping for air and barely managing to keep his chestnut-coloured head out of the water.

He tries to extend the skimmer pole towards it, but the small animal desperately swims away from the aid instead.

Hearing the commotion, Eddie abandons his innocent slumber and merely opens one eye, catching Steve slowly descending into the water. He can only see his toned, sunkissed back as Steve corners the little guy into safety.

Eddie lets himself ogle briefly, it’s not like there's someone around to judge him, after all.

“Come on, buddy”, Steve says softly, trying not to scare the squirrel even more. “Let’s cooperate and get you out of here before you end up drinking half my pool away”.

Eddie snickers silently at the interaction and stares intently as the other man finally succeeds in picking up the small animal. 

“There you go, there you go, buddy”. The squirrel is clearly frightened, squiggling and breathing fast between Steve’s fingers. “Hush now, your heart is gonna explode if you don't calm down a bit”.

Slowly, with a firm but delicate grip, Steve starts to pat the squirrel’s face dry with the fabric of his swimsuit. The little animal’s chest slows down its heaving, but its eyes are still wide and wary. 

After a minute or so of Steve carefully petting the squirrel with his fingers, letting the hot afternoon sun help reduce the soaked status of the little one, he tries to loosen the grip. 

A soft smile gracefully appears on his lips “See? All better now. Wasn't that bad, wasn't it?” 

Eddie feels a weird warmth blooming in his chest at the sight, fondness making its way through his thoughts, waking him up fully from his nap.

The creature seems to look at Steve for a few seconds.

The idea of having a pet squirrel pops up in the young man’s head but is quickly abandoned as the squirrel promptly turns on its little legs, leaves a good chomp on Steve’s palm and, with a small jump, speeds towards the forest, to safety.

Steve flinches, shaking his hand to alleviate the pain “small but feisty, uh?” he chuckles. There’s a little blood, but nothing to worry about. He gets up, thinking of where he stocked the first aid kit around the pool house. 

Suddenly, as Steve approaches the shed’s doors, another way bigger, splash comes from the pool behind his back.

Turning around, Steve sees Eddie emerging from the water, hair sticking on his face and a dead serious expression. With one hand, he frees himself from the long wet curls clinging to his cheeks, but his attention is all on Steve.

“I, too, am small but feisty, Harrington.” The metalhead shakes his head to get rid of some water, then looks up at Steve again, smirking and making grabby hands “Save me?”.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[nburkhardt]

Thinking about Mike dressing like Eddie but not having a crush again. He just thinks Eddie’s so fucking cool

No no, Mike has a crush on Steve. Which he fucking hates by the way. But he also has hearts in his eyes whenever Steve smiles or laughs, because that boy definitely can’t hide it.

[morganbritton132]

Steve and Argyle hang out alone together for the first time because all their friends are busy. The next day when they separately talk about the night to their friends, everybody thinks they fucked.

To be clear, they didn’t.

They watched a bad movie, ate pizza with weird toppings, got high, and then fell asleep listening to music in Steve’s room. That’s all.

But when Robin asks about how the night went, Steve is just like, “Oh, yeah. Argyle is great. Love that guy. He’s insane in bed though. It’s crazy.”

And he’s like specifically talking about the one time he woke up during the night and saw Argyle asleep in the most uncomfortable position Steve has ever seen. He fully looked like a corpse at the bottom of a staircase.

He doesn’t explain that that’s what he’s talking about because a customer comes into the store and Robin is too shocked to ask, so now she thinks they’re hooking up. She tells Nancy about it.

Argyle does not help the miscommunication at all because when Jonathan cracks a joke about Steve being the worst, he says ‘nah.’ He thinks Steve is pretty epic in the bedroom (sleeping) because he can ‘rock the bed’ (by snoring). Then goes on about Steve’s morning breath.

Jonathan does not know why this pisses him off so much. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly why he’s annoyed by it.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[hawkinsbnbg]

Jonathan, trying to flirt with Steve: Hey, I like your top. Seems cool.

Eddie, grinning sharply: Thanks, man.

Steve, totally oblivious: I like your top, too :)

Jonathan: ... Thanks... Dude.

[steddietogo]

Eddie can’t sleep with all the snoring. He should’ve taken Steve’s guest room when he had the chance but Eddie apparently is an affectionate drunk. He didn’t protest when Steve and Robin lead him to Steve’s bedroom and the three had just collapsed onto the bed together.

Now Steve is snoring like a fucking chainsaw. How can he be expected to sleep in these conditions? Hey, at least Eddie’s found one thing he finds undesirable in Steve. It was beginning to be too much— the constant barrage of butterflies in his stomach whenever Steve did completely normal, swoon worthy things. But Steve snoring like a faulty boat motor? No butterflies. Problem solved.

But Eddie’s still mad that he can’t sleep. He flops around angrily to glare at Steve’s slumbering form and— the dude is on his back, wide awake and blinking up at the ceiling. Now Steve’s back to being stupid perfect and that just makes Eddie more mad.

“What the fuck,” he whisper-shouts in the dark. Steve, fucking glowing in the eerie blue-tinted light spilling in through the window, just turns to him and shrugs.

Eddie props himself up on his elbows and peers over him at Robin— who is twisted up in a blanket, dead to the world and making enough noise to scare away a wild demogorgan probably.

“Does this happen often?” He asks Steve.

“Only when she’s drunk, and you don’t need to whisper, no way you can wake her up now,”

“Oh,” Eddie flops back down on his stomach making a mournful noise. “Goodbye sleep, you will be missed,” Steve turns to Eddie, curling up onto his side until his face was so close to Eddie’s that their noses almost touch.

“I can think of other ways to pass time,” Steve practically purrs. Eddie barely hears him past the blood roaring in his ears.

“L-like what?” He tries and fails to keep his own voice steady. If Steve making eyes at him from a distance are dangerous then those eyes in this proximity are deadly. Eddie discreetly pinches himself to keep him from doing something stupid. Like closing the gap between their lips.

“Like—” Steve pulls himself up and, holyfuckingshit, plants a knee on either side of Eddie’s hips. Eddie doesn’t have an exact number for the times his dream had started exactly like this. Steve on his hands and knees, hovering over Eddie.

This is happening. Is this happening? With Robin right there beside them? Actually Eddie doesn’t care about that part but is it happening?

Then Steve moves again, gets off Eddie and slides off the bed like he didn’t nearly just send the man into cardiac arrest. “We could go watch a movie?” The fucker smirks at him like he knows exactly what he just did to Eddie. Get it together, Munson.

Eddie ends up following Steve downstairs like a love sick puppy anyways. Even lets him pick a cheesy musical to watch. When Eddie finally starts to drift off to slumberland, he feels a strong pair of arms pulling him into a warm chest. And the last thing Eddie thinks of before fully succumbing to sleep is that maybe he might have a chance with Steve after all.

[resident-gay-bitch]

🐈‍⬛ Trick or Treat 🐈‍⬛

Little Steddie + Stobin meet cute; Eddie and Robin decide they must take Steve trick-or-treating, and they absolutely must make him their friend (a really special friend in Eddie's case) - fluffy! (5.5 k words)

This was all inspired by this tweet. It was so heartbreaking and upsetting I just had to fix it :)

🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃

Steve hasn’t celebrated Halloween since he was five. Not properly, anyway. Hasn't dressed up, or gone trick or treating even once since then. And he’s ten now, almost eleven. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he misses going trick or treating. His mummy used to take him, until she stopped being home as much, and his babysitters could never be bothered. 

He used to love dressing up, it was his favorite part. Liked to talk to the other kids in the street and play spooky games. But he’ll probably never do that again. 

It’s probably stupid anyway. Steve’s double digits now, and his dad says that makes him a man, and men aren’t supposed to get sad about stupid things like Halloween. 

Besides, his mum says candy’s bad for him. It will make his teeth fall out and his tummy fat, and his mum really hates that stuff. 

Steve’s grown up knowing to always believe her, but he sees kids at school eating candy all the time, and they still have all their teeth and aren’t fat. Even his teacher eats candy, and offers a bowl of it around every holiday. 

But Steve never eats it. His mom will be upset with him if she finds out. 

But Steve’s a big boy, he can handle himself now. He’s got a bowl of sweets sitting by the door, eyeing him off and he’s trying his best not to eat one, because it’s for the trick or treaters. 

The little kids, the ones his age, the older ones, and even some parents. 

Steve pretends he’s not disappointed when they show off their awesome costumes that their moms made for them. He pretends he’s fine, he’s becoming a man, he shouldn’t care about kid things like Halloween. 

He gets up when there’s another knock on the door, what feels like the millionth one of the night, and finds three people waiting there all dressed in cool costumes. 

There’s a girl with freckles, short brown hair, and she’s done it all messy, dressed up like a scarecrow with a glowing lightbulb on the top of her head. She looks awesome, even has makeup on her face and real pieces of straw sticking out in random places. 

There’s a boy beside her, with big brown eyes sweet like the chocolate Steve’s giving out, with long hair like a mane with golden shimmers of tinsel through it. He’s dressed like a lion, a showy badge on his chest, and he roared when Steve opened the door. 

Behind them is an adult, probably their dad or something, dressed in grey with silver all over him, a funnel wrapped in foil on his head, a big red heart stitched into his shirt, and he’s holding a lead that’s got a little black cat on the end of it, with bows around its collar. 

They’re dressed as The Wizard Of Oz, Steve thinks, and they look awesome. Steve wishes he had friends or family to go trick or treating with. All he’s got is Mrs. Delores, from across the street to look after him tonight, and she’s been asleep on the couch since five o’clock. She’d never take him anyway, says Halloween is for the energised, whatever that means. 

“Cool costumes!” Steve says, puts on the brightest smile he can muster, just like his mom taught him. He grabs the candy bowl and holds it out for them to stuff their pillow cases with, “I love Wizard Of Oz— isn’t Toto a dog though?” 

“Yeah, but Eddie only has a cat.” The girl answers as the boy digs through the bowl, clearly looking for something specific, “I think she’s crazy enough to be a dog though! Makes the funniest noises ever.”

“Yeah, she’s the funniest.” The lion boy giggles, waggles the Milky Way he found in the air, “She’s crazy too, I found her by the quarry one day, and Wayne said I can keep her.”

Steve thinks the tin man is Wayne, gives the man a smile and offers the candy bowl to him, which he politely declines. 

“That’s cool, I’m not allowed pets. Especially strays, mom says they’re filthy.” 

“Cthulhu is filthy, but she doesn’t stink more than Eddie!” The girl teases, already eating a caramel treat, chocolate all over her mouth. 

Eddie punches her in the arm hard, “I don’t stink! Cthulhu is the best kitty in the world.” He bends down, picking the cat up under the arms and snuggling her, and she hisses and squeaks at him, “Aren’t you Cthulhu? You’re the best kitty cat in the world.” 

Cthulhu meows and puts her paw on Eddie’s face, and Steve laughs. He’s always wanted a pet, loves them so much. He Loves all animals. 

“Can I pet her?”

Eddie looks up at him from his snuggle with Cthulhu and arches his eyebrow, “Perhaps.” 

“Oh, lord.” The man mutters to himself behind them, and it seems like maybe Steve shouldn’t have asked. 

“Eddie’s very protective of Cthulhu because she’s a scared cat. She was really sick when we found her! So small you could see her ribs, it was so sad!” The girl informs him, very eager to teach, “She’s just a poor little kitty, and only loves me and Eddie and Wayne and no one else.” 

“It’s true, she bites people you know? If they get too close.” Eddie says ominously, holding onto Cthulhu like she’s a precious treasure that Steve is trying to steal, “One time Nash from across the trailer park tried to feed her tuna and she bit a chunk out of his hand! It was so funny, there was blood everywhere. He screamed so loud, the stupid fuck-“

“Language.” The man said, glaring at Eddie. 

“Uh, I mean, the stupid wimp.” 

“It’s true, did you know?” The girl nodded as she spoke, nodded so much Steve thought her head would fall off, “We hate Nash, he’s so mean.” 

“I would maybe let you pet her, if she likes you, which she probably won’t because she doesn’t like anyone except for us.” Eddie said, scratching Cthulhu behind the ear to make her purr, giving her little kisses to make her smile, “But, you must also pass the test.”

“What test?” Steve asked, curious now. He’d really like to pet Cthulhu, if she’d let him. 

“First, you have to swear to never, ever be mean to an animal ever.” The girl said. 

Then dramatically, Eddie added in, “Second, you have to swear allegiance to Robin and I forever and ever, which also means you swear allegiance to all underdogs by proxy-“

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Steve mutters, ashamed of himself. He’s been doing really bad at school lately, he knows he’s dumb, his dad tells him all the time. 

“Ed, remember not everyone reads Tolkien by the time they’re eight.” 

“Right.” Eddie nods, smiles up at Steve, “Uh, it means you have to swear to at least be nice to us always, like, friendly! No bullying us or being rude or anything. And also the same goes for every nerd or weird kid.” 

“Yeah, you can’t be mean to weird kids ever.” 

“Are you weird kids?” Steve asked, looking them over. He doesn’t think they’re weird, he thinks they’re cool, they have the coolest costumes he’s seen all night, they put a lot of effort into them. 

“The weirdest ever, actually.” Eddie states, nodding like he’s proud of it. 

Robin, the girl, nods in agreement. 

“Okay.” Steve shrugs, “I don’t care if people are weird, you have cool costumes.” 

“That’s really nice, thanks!” Robin says, but Eddie gives him a funny look. 

“Where’s your costume? And why aren’t you trick or treating? Are you sick or something?”

“Uhm, I just don’t want to.” Steve lies, he feels stupid because he wants to cry. 

“Oh, okay, weird.” Eddie says and stands again, keeps Cthulhu in his arms and Robin leans over to pet her too, “The third rule is that you have to give us an extra candy bar-“

“That’s not one of the rules?” Robin intervenes, clearly confused by this, which Steve finds funny. 

“Shh!” Eddie hisses, “Come on, it’s Halloween, it’s a special extra holiday rule.” 

“I don’t think that’s fair.”

“It’s just one extra candy bar. Besides, would you prefer stupid Jason come by and steal an extra one like he did at the last house?” 

“No.” Robin admits and turns to Steve, “Okay, yeah, an extra candy bar.” 

“And also, the last rule is-“

“You have to stand on one foot and hop on the spot and sing Soft Kitty!” 

“Hey, I wanted to say that part.” Eddie groans at her. 

“You always say that part.” Robin bickers back, and Eddie starts to sulk. 

Steve wishes he had friends like that. 

“Do you agree with the rules?” Robin asks, and Steve nods. 

“Sure.” He says. 

“Okay, fine.” Eddie said, snapping out of his hunch to grin at Steve again, “But don’t be offended if she doesn’t like you. She hates everyone. She was even scared of us for the first few days!” 

“Yeah, it’s true.” Robin agrees, watching Eddie set Cthulhu down, taking the leash from the older man, “She’s such a poor little kitty. Eddie, show him the scars you have! I can’t or it will stuff up my costume.” 

“Oh, yeah!” Eddie grins, shoving the sleeves up his arms to reveal an array of tiny bites and scratches, “Gnarly, huh?”

“I thought he had rabies! I was so scared, but it’s okay, we all got a rabies shot.” 

“Yeah, I almost passed out, I hate needles.” 

“It was really funny, the nurses had to give him three lollipops to stop him crying-“

“Hey! Don’t tell him that, he won’t think I’m cool.” Eddie punches her again. Robin punches him back. 

“He probably already thinks you’re not cool, Eddie. Everyone thinks you’re not cool, and he’s rich.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie mutters, shrugs like he no longer cares, loosens Cthulhu’s lead a little, “Anyway, just don’t take it personally if she tries to kill you or anything, she especially doesn’t like mean people or rich people. She only likes freaks and weirdos I think, ‘cause we’re like her, you know? She’s a good cat like that. So yeah, just don’t like, get upset if she hates—“

They all stop and stare when Cthulhu wanders over the threshold to Steve’s house, looking up at him with her tail in the air as she goes. She walks right up to Steve, rubs her face against his shin and weaves between his legs, stretching out and laying on his fluffy slipperd feet. 

Behind them, the older man snickers, and Eddie glares back at him. 

He takes a few steps away to catch his breath as he laughs, muttering as he goes, “Spoke too soon, boy, what’d I tell ya?” 

Eddie growls and looks back at Cthulhu like she’s betrayed him. Robin is just smiling, which is nice, she has a very happy smile. 

“I think she likes him, Eddie.” Robin says, and Eddie growls again. 

“So, can I pet her?” Steve asks.

“You have to do the ritual.” Eddie says with sass, like it’s a challenge, like Steve won’t do it, “Swear kindness to all animals.” 

“Obviously, I love animals.” Steve said with a frown. 

“That one’s easy, you’d be a total psycho if you didn’t!” 

“Okay, swear you’ll never be mean to an outcast or a weirdo.” Robin said. 

“Okay— but what about if a weirdo is mean to me first? Can I be mean back?” He asked, because the rules seemed a little biassed. 

“Eh, makes sense.” Robin nodded, “What do you think, Eddie?” 

“I agree. Not like a weirdo would ever be mean to a rich kid.” He said, shrugging. 

Steve arched his eyebrow at the boy, put his hands on his hips unimpressed, “I swear it, idiot.” 

“Hey, you can’t—“

“You said I can, if you’re mean first.” 

“I’m not— Wayne! Stop laughing at me!” Eddie huffed back at the man, facing Steve again, he said, “I’m not mean to you.” 

“You are. You said Cthulhu would probably hate me cause I’m rich. I’m not even rich, I just live here.” 

Beside him, Robin nodded, “You are kinda mean sometimes, Eddie.” 

Eddie looked like a fish out of water. The old man was still laughing, hunched over from it now. 

“We can call it even, if you’re nice to me from now on.” Steve states, holding out his hand in an offer. 

Eddie looks at his hand and considers it, looks back at Steve and sighs, “I’m sorry, okay, you're right. We can call it even.” 

Steve smiles and solidifies the shake, wondering why his stomach goes all fluttery. 

“Three!” Robin interrupts, literally leaning over to get between them, “Extra candy bar.” 

Steve smiles and lets them both have at it again, holding it steady as they aggressively rifle through the bowl in hunt of their desired treasure. Robin eats half of hers again when she gets it, drops the other half in her pillow case. 

“And the dance!” Eddie chimes in, carefully placing his sweet in the sack, “For a whole minute.” 

“How am I supposed to hop on one foot when Cthulhu is laying on my slippers?” 

“Uh, that’s a good point, Eddie. You know Cthulhu hates being disturbed.” Robin whispers, like she’s scared she’ll suddenly wake the sleeping kitty. 

Eddie pouts, looking down at the animal to come up with an answer. It takes him a while. Steve comes up with one first. 

He grabs the bowl of sweets again and dumps half in Robin's sack, and the other half in Eddie’s. A trade, extra candy so he doesn’t have to do the dance. 

“Awesome!” Robin grins, beaming down at her loot. 

“What about your leftovers?” Eddie asks, looking sadly at the big empty bowl, “You won’t have any leftovers! And you’re not trick or treating, so how would you get chocolate?” 

“It’s okay, mom doesn’t really like when I eat chocolate. Says it will make my teeth fall out—“

“Ah! Is that true?” Robin asks, her mouth full of melted chocolate again. She looks back at the man in fear, “Wayne! Are my teeth gonna fall out?”

“No.” He says, stern and sharp, “My mama used to tell me the same thing. You’re supposed to have treats, you’re a kid.” 

Oh, Steve thinks to himself, he’s a kid. 

“Oh, thank goodness.” Robin huffs and keeps munching away. 

“Here.” Eddie smiles, and he’s got a handful of candy bars taken from his pillow case, holding them out to Steve, “You deserve some chocolate too!” 

Steve blushes and takes the sweets, can’t find the Strength to protest when he really, really wants it. He stashes them in his pockets and tells himself not to forget about them. 

“Do you want some more?” Eddie asks, “I know how it feels to have no candy on Halloween, it sucks. I never got to trick-or-treat when I was little, my dad couldn’t be bothered and my mama was always sick.”

Steve frowns, looks at the boy and doesn’t even get another word in before Eddie’s reaching over and stuffing another handful of chocolate into Steve’s other pocket. He gives it a firm pat, stands up straight again, and smiles. 

Steve doesn’t know what to do. 

He thinks he’d like to be friends with these kids. 

“Can I pet your cat now?” He asks, too scared to say anything else. His dad says he’s too much of a wimp these days, and needs to man up. 

“Of course.” Eddie smiles, nods his head. 

Steve crouches down, careful not to move his feet and disturb the kitty, and he strokes from her head down her back until she purrs. She purrs so much her whole body starts to vibrate, it makes the three of them laugh. 

“She’s so cute, huh?” Robin asks, crouched down too to watch. 

“She’s the best kitty cat ever.” Eddie agrees, reaching to scratch under her chin with a finger, and Cthulhu smiles and tries to bite his finger, “No silly! I’m not a Halloween candy.” 

“She’s so soft.” Steve muses, can’t stop petting her, “She’s so cute.” 

“Super cute.” 

“The cutest!” Robin shouts, slaps a hand over her mouth when she realises how loud she was. 

“I wish I had a cat.” Steve sighs. 

“You can visit her sometimes, if you like?” Eddie asks, his cheeks all red for some reason, “Wayne doesn’t mind if I have friends at the trailer, and it would be mean to keep Cthulhu from her new best friend.” 

“You mean it?” Steve asks, feels himself smiling so wide his cheeks get warm, “For real?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie nods, gets very nervous when he says, “And… and maybe we could play, or something?” 

Steve nods his head, he hasn’t had a friend to play with since Tommy decided they were too cool for make believe, “Yes please.”

“You probably won’t want to if you’re cool and not a weirdo.” Robin says, doesn’t even look up as she speaks, too busy petting Cthulhu, “Eddie likes weird games, he always makes me be the dragon he has to fight and slay.” 

“I thought you liked being the dragon? You make such good dragon noises.” 

“Of course I do.” Robin huffs, looking over at him, “But he might not like being a dragon.” 

“Well he wouldn’t be the dragon, ‘cause you’re always the dragon.”

“We’ll, maybe he won’t want to be the knight either!” 

“I’m always the knight.” Eddie huffed and turned to Steve, wearing a very determined glare, “What do you want to be when we play fantasy? You could be the horse, but that’s probably boring. Or I suppose you could be the princess I rescue, because Cthulhu is always the princess. You can’t be the evil troll because Wayne’s really good at being grumpy. Or you can be something new if you like?” 

“I can be anything.” Steve shrugged, “I’ve never played fantasy before. It sounds fun.” 

“It’s so fun!” Robin grinned, “Maybe you could be the prince and Eddie can rescue you too!” 

“I’m really good at rescuing.” Eddie stated. 

“Okay.” Steve smiled, “Whatever you guys want.” He says, because he’s excited enough they want him there at all, he would play the tree if they wanted. 

“Cool.” Eddie grinned, totally delighted by this. 

“Thanks for letting me pet your cat.” Steve said, knowing he shouldn’t keep them any longer. They have more trick-or-treating to get too, and the man taking them is probably bored. “I think your costumes are really cool and creative.” 

“Thanks, we made them ourselves, Eddie’s really good at sewing and painting!” Robin grinned. 

“Well, Wayne had to help with the sewing machine. And Robin did all the decorations.” 

“That’s so cool.” Steve grinned, the words toppling out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “I wish I knew how to make costumes, my mom never makes me costumes, I miss trick-or-treating.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t feel like it?” Robin asked, and Steve stared at her, caught red. 

“Why doesn’t your mom make your costumes?” Eddie asked, looking so terribly sad about it, “Why don’t you go trick-or-treating? Is your mummy sick too?” 

Embarrassed, Steve shook his head, eyes averted to the ground as he shamefully admitted, “My parents don’t really care about this stuff, they say it’s for kids, and it’s silly. They’re never home anyway.” 

“But you are a kid.” Robin says, confused. 

Steve feels that harshly for the second time tonight. 

“I think your parents are stupid.” Eddie says flatly, and Steve thinks he’s awesome. 

“Eddie!” The older man snaps from behind, “That’s not very nice now, come on.” 

“But it’s true.” Eddie huffs, “Your parents sound like they suck. My dad sucked too. He’s in prison, you know, cause he sucks.” 

“Eddie really doesn’t like his dad.” Robin said, still crouched down to pet Cthulhu, not looking up at them as she spoke. 

Quietly, for the first time ever, Steve admitted something back, “I don’t like my dad either.” 

Eddie smiled at him, held up his hand in this strange symbol, his pinky and pointer finger extended whilst the others were folded. 

“What’s that?” 

“Metal.” Eddie said, a cool smile as he nodded. And Steve had no idea what metal means, but he makes the symbol back and smiles, because Eddie seems to think it’s cool, so it must be. 

“Cool.” 

“Do you want to come trick or treating with us?” He asks, and Steve thinks yes, but holds himself back. 

“Oh, yeah, please come!” Robin grins, up and jumping on the spot now. 

“We don’t even have a Dorothy.” Eddie says, “We don’t even have the main character!” 

“I told you to be Dorothy.” Robin tells him, “You have the perfect hair for it.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to wear my lion costume again. It saved more time! We had to spend all our time making your costume!” 

Robin shrugged and looked back at Steve, “Do you wanna be Dorothy?” 

“Isn’t she a girl?” 

“So.” Eddie shrugged, “I think Toto’s a boy, and Cthulhu is pretending to be him— and Robins being a boy scarecrow. It’s just a costume.” 

“But she wears a dress. I don’t have a dress.” 

“You can be a boy Dorothy if you like?” Robin answers. 

“Or, you can be a girl Dorothy in pants.” Eddie adds on, “And I’m really good at making costumes, I bet I can help you come up with something cool. And then you can walk Cthulhu all night if you like, ‘cause Toto is Dorothy’s pet!” 

Steve does like the sound of going trick-or-treating with these guys. And he really likes the sound of hanging out with Cthulhu all night, she’s such a cute kitty, still sleeping on his slippers. 

Steve worries his lip and looks at the old man past them, wondering if he’ll tell Steve to stay home for wanting to dress up like a girl. 

“You’re welcome to join if you want, kid, I’ll just need to talk to whoever’s lookin’ after ya.” 

Steve is sort of scared to wake Mrs. Deloris, she’s a real hag when she’s grumpy. 

But, he’d like to go trick-or-treating even more. And this might be his only ever chance. 

”I’d really like to.” Steve says, and the three of them seem happy with his answer. 

Eddie dives down and grabs Cthulhu so Steve can move, which is a big mistake because she starts hissing and trying to scratch Eddie’s face, and he screams, the old man and Robin have to intervene. 

Steve rushes over to Mrs. Delores to wake her with a fright, and he tells her his plans, doesn’t ask, and she gets up in a grump to go talk to the man at the door. 

When Steve makes it back to them, Eddie’s got a bloody scratch on his cheek, but he doesn’t seem to mind it, he’s still holding Cthulhu as she naps in his arms, and he kisses her between the ears adoringly. 

“I wouldn’t know how to make a Dorothy costume.” Steve says, and this seems to excite Eddie and Robin. 

“Can we come in? We’ll help!” Eddie asks. 

“And your house is so big.” Robin wonders, leaning forward to inspect the inside, “I’ve never been in a house this big before.” 

“Me either.” Eddie muses, “Do you have a hot tub?”

Steve leads them inside, and up the stairs, “No, but I have a pool.” 

“Cool!” Eddie grins. 

“Do you have a cinema?” 

“No.” Steve giggles, “Of course not.” 

“Do you have two bathrooms?” Eddie asks.

Steve furrows his brow at the weird question, “Uh, yeah— or three if you count the extra toilet.”

“Woah!” The two say in unison, their eyes wandering around Steve’s house as they walk. 

“That’s so cool.” Eddie says.

“I’ve always wanted two bathrooms. My dad gets pee all over the toilet seat, and me and mom hate it.” Robin adds, and Steve decides to laugh, because Eddie is. 

He thought everyone had two bathrooms. He’s never shared one with his parents. That seems so strange. He’s not even allowed in his parents bathroom, they get so mad at him if he goes in there. 

He leads the pair into his bedroom and they go right for his wardrobe, diving right in without asking. Not that Steve cares, he thinks they’re so nice, and he’s excited to have more friends. 

They’re talking amongst themselves, chattering and chattering, agreeing and disagreeing. 

“Would you wear a skirt?” Eddie turns around to ask. 

“I don’t have a skirt.” Steve says back. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I guess.” Steve shrugged, “But it’s too cold for a skirt! It’s windy outside.” 

“He’s got a point.” Robin says, and Eddie nods. 

“Will your dad be mad if we cut up one of his shirts?” 

Steve’s eyes widened, he think his dad would definitely mind. But, he’s not home, won’t be for another week at least. Besides, he might not even notice, if Steve hides the evidence.  

He shakes his head no. 

“Does he have a blue button up?” 

Steve nods, knows he does. He has like, a billion of them. 

He races to go get one, finding one that’s got little blue and white checkers all over it, thinking it would be perfect for Dorothy. When he shows it to Eddie, he’s excited, says it’s perfect. 

Robin hands Steve a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and tells him to change into them whilst they work on the dress. Steve rushes to change in the bathroom, can’t wait, he’s so excited. 

By the time he comes back out, the sleeves of his dads shirt have been cut off, and the collar removed to make straps instead, and Eddie’s making Steve put it on, and it’s long, like a dress. He’s cut one of the sleeves to make a belt, ties it around Steve’s waist with a bow, and Robin ties the other on his head. 

He’s still got his slippers on, which they decide are perfect, because they’re fuzzy red Elmo slippers, just like Dorothy’s shoes. Steve hasn’t felt this cool in a long time, he likes how creative Eddie and Robin are. 

He half expects to be told off when they get back down, yapping away to Cthulhu about the next houses they’re gonna hit, but the old man doesn’t mind that Steve’s in a dress. 

In fact, he compliments him, “Cool costume, looks just like the movie, kid.” He says, waves them all out the door, “Come on, it’s getting late and I have to have you home by ten.” 

“Quick!” Eddie says, putting Cthulhu down and letting Steve take her lead, “We’ve got so many more houses to get to.” 

“Wait! Dorothy doesn’t- wait, what’s your name?” Robin asks, and Steve feels silly for not having introduced himself. 

“Oh, it’s Steve.” He says, walking down the steps, Cthulhu right beside him. 

“That’s cool, I’m Robin, and he’s Eddie.” Robin said, “We’re best friends, we take art class together.” 

“Wow, you do art?” Steve asks, “I like colouring.” 

“Colouring is cool.” Eddie smiled, five steps ahead of everyone else, “I like drawing best. I draw monsters mostly.” 

“They’re so creepy.” Robin giggles, “It’s for his nerd game he likes. Watch out, he’ll probably make you try and play it. It’s so confusing.” 

“It’s not confusing. It’s just roleplay! It’s called Dungeons and Dragons, and it’s the coolest game in the world.” 

“Sounds fun.” Steve says, even though the dungeon part worries him. 

“What were you gonna say before, Robin?” Eddie asked, “You seemed so worried.” 

“Oh, uhm, I can’t- Steve doesn’t have a pillowcase!” She gasped, turning to Steve. 

“Oh no.” He said, looking back at his house, already a block away now. 

“It’s okay!” Eddie said, running back to them, “Steve can share mine, we’ll split all my candy down the middle since you missed so much. Come on, that house always has the best stuff.” He says, grabbing Steve by the wrist and pulling him along to run. 

Steve lets him, giggling as the three of them run through the street up to the house. His skin tingles where Eddie holds it, which is strange, but he doesn’t mind. It’s sort of nice. Eddie is really nice. 

“Come on.” He says, shoving Steve to the grand front door of the house they’re at, “You should do the honours, Steve, since you haven’t in ages! Come on, come on!” 

Nervously, Steve lifts his hand and rings the doorbell. And when the woman answers the door, he grins, and shouts, “Trick-or-treat!” Louder than he should have. 

The three get their fill of candy and head away to the next house, playing with Cthulhu as they go, comparing which chocolates are their favourites. 

Eddie says his favourites are milky ways, Steve says they’re his favourites too, and Eddie’s cheeks go red again at the fact. 

They manage to hit fifteen more houses before Steve has to go home, and Eddie’s pillow case is so full they decide to carry it together, so it’s not too heavy. 

They sit on the floor by the open door to divvy it out, Robin sits beside them eating more of her candy. Mrs. Delores comes out to flirt with Wayne, who Steve learned is Eddie’s uncle that he lives with, and apparently a lot of old ladies flirt with him. 

They split the chocolates clean down the middle, having an even amount in the bag. And Steve’s excited, because he’s got five milky ways, can’t wait to eat them. Eddie’s got six, at Steve’s insistence as payment for making his costume. 

At the last minute, when they’re scooping their treats back into Eddie’s pillow case and the candy bowl by Steve’s door, he remembers the pocketed treats from before, and races away to get them. He quickly divvys them between him and Eddie, gives the extra one to Wayne as a thank you, and says goodbye to his new friends. Especially Cthulhu. 

“Remember you have to come visit.” Eddie says sternly, watching Steve snuggle the cat, “Cthulhu will get depressed without you.” 

“Promise.” Steve nods. 

“Maybe you can come on Saturday! And maybe Tuesdays after five o'clock! And also Wednesdays after school, and Fridays too—“

“That’s when Robin comes over to my house. We hang out a lot.” 

“We’re best friends.” Robin nods. 

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I can come after school on Wednesday.” 

“Okay!” They both shout in unison. 

“Bye, Steve!” Robin shouts, beginning to hop down the steps, “See you around.” 

“Come here, kitty kitty.” Eddie says, tries to grab Cthulhu but she doesn’t let him. Hisses at Eddie and snuggles against Steve. Eddie looks very betrayed again, “Cthulhu! I said come here.” 

She just meowed. 

Steve laughed, handed her back over to Eddie with a little fight and apologised, “Sorry, Cthulhu. We’ll have to cuddle another time.” 

“She really loves group cuddles, you know.” Eddie blurts out, looks embarrassed again, “Just so you know.” 

Steve smiles, thinking he might like a group cuddle with them some time, “Okay.” He’s got butterflies again. 

“Okay.” 

Eddie’s so nice. 

“I’m gonna go now.” He mutters, “But you can come play whenever— not just when Robin’s there, okay?” 

“Okay.” Steve smiled again. It’s all he can do, really. 

“Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Eddie.” 

Eddie blushes and ducks his head, waving as he turns away, “I think you look nice, by the way, in your costume. Blue looks really nice on you.” 

Steve blushes too, “Thanks, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just bounces away, catching up to his uncle who’s holding Robin's hand as they walk. Steve watches them walk away, stands silently at the door with a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. 

Wayne scruffs Eddie’s head as they walk away, “Steve seems nice.” He says, sounds like he’s teasing. 

Eddie hunches his shoulders up, glances back at Steve and looks away again immediately, grits out, “Shut up.” 

“What’s going on?” Robin asks, leaning into Eddie’s space. 

“Nothing!—“

“Eddie thinks Steve’s nice.” 

Eddie groans, and Steve doesn’t understand why that’s such a big deal. Steve is nice, isn’t he? 

Isn’t he? 

“Ohh!” Robin muses, skips a few steps ahead and starts singing as the reach the street, “Eddie and Steve, sitting in the tree—“

“Shhh! He’s gonna hear you.” 

“K. I. S. S. I. N. G—“

“I’m gonna kill you!” Eddie groaned, running straight for her. 

Robin erupted in giggles, running away down the street, into the night.  

Steve closes the door and looks down at his bowl of candy, can’t help himself, just wants one before bed. He goes to grab a Milky Way, and something catches his attention. 

He’s supposed to have five. But there are— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven in the bowl. 

Eddie snuck Steve all of his, even though they’re his favourites. 

Steve can’t wait to hang out with his new friends Robin and Eddie. 

Especially Eddie. 

Steve doesn’t think he’s gonna have a lonely Halloween ever again. 

[artiststarme]

Officer Phil Callahan wasn’t often seen in a positive light. Most people viewed him as immature, impulsive, condescending, and a poor excuse for a poor excuse of a police officer. However, no one could accuse him of being a bad brother. He prided himself on always being there for his little bro and his brother knew he could count on him too for anything. As such, Phil was the first person he went to after receiving the beating of all beatings.

So, when Phil opened his front door to see his baby bro leaning against the doorframe for support with his bruised face bearing more resemblance to a blueberry, he dropped everything to help him.

“Holy goddamn shit, Steve! What the hell happened to your face?!” He ushered Steve inside and settled him on the well-worn couch adorning his small living room.

Phil didn’t know what had happened to his brother and he didn’t know who had tried to pulverize his face but he did know whomever had committed this atrocity would pay. He didn’t care if he had to arrest Jonathan Byers again or face off against the powerful Hagan parents to cuff Tommy H in public, he was going to make someone suffer.

His rage only grew as he watched Steve dry heave and vomit for hours on end. Phil aspired to return the beating to the perpetrator that gave Steve the headache of all headaches and physical damage to boot. He took care of Steve through the night by waking him up every four hours, rubbing his back through the dry heaves, and giving him water to keep him hydrated. As soon as he seemed stable enough to be left alone though, Phil was badgering him for the name of the attacker.

He waited just long enough to hear, “Billy Hargrove, but don’t-“ before he was off.

Dressed in his Sheriff’s Deputy uniform with his gun on his hip, he set off to find the sack of shit that hurt his brother. Would this look bad in front of the townspeople? Definitely. Could it hurt his job and his position in the department? Most probably. But he would do what he had to do and probably beat the shit out of that dirtbag in revenge.

As expected, the Californian hippie delinquent was standing by his Camaro in front of the school with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Phil pulled the patrol care right up to his bumper before storming up to him and shoving him against his own drivers side door. Billy’s cigarette dropped ashes against Phil’s forearm but the rage inside of him burned even more than the fluttering ash. The eyes of nearly the entire student body rested on him but he didn’t let it phase him.

“You roughed up Steve yesterday,” Phil growled.

“You’re crazy. Who the fuck-“

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, buttercup. If you even think about touching Steve again, you kinky shit, I will make your life a living hell. Stay away from my brother.”

“Whatever, man. Did Steve go running home to mommy-“

He didn’t even register his just flying until Billy’s head whipped to the side followed by a pain in his hand. Shit, he just hit a kid. A bitchy one, but a kid nonetheless. “I’m sorr-“

“Is that all you got? I guess you and Stevie-boy both hit like the pansies you are.” Billy sneered at him with blood coating his teeth.

This little prick. Phil wasn’t going to let some high school bully get away with this. First he tries to kill his brother and then he starts talking shit about the both of them? Nope, no siree. Phil pauses but a minute before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt and latching them around a struggling Hargove’s wrists. “Okay, you little shit. You’re under arrest for felony assault, attempted murder, and anything else I can throw at you. No school for you today, now get in my car.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled, bloody spittle spitting from his lips.

“Yep, just like that concussion you gave my brother. Now shut up and stop resisting before I have to shoot you.” He wouldn’t actually shoot this kid but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Phil knew the charges probably wouldn’t stick but he still felt lighter, relieved, that he had gotten at least a little bit of justice for Steve. And if the increasingly panicked murmurings in the backseat brought a smile to his face? Well, no one was any the wiser.