#steve plays d&d

[sparkle-fiend]

Steve plays D&D 1/2

(next up: Will, Dustin, and Lucas react)

[sp0o0kylights]

Part one / Part Two / The Entire Fic on A03

There’s a part of Steve that is extremely cheeky.

Not nasty, not anymore, but at his core there exists a bitchiness Robin has playfully titled his inner “mean girl.” It's this part of him that has him swinging by the corner store, picking up a small bouquet of flowers and a cheap plastic heart full of candy on his way to Wheeler’s.

Because if there is one known truth in this universe, it's that Steve Harrington knows how to show a date a good time. A truth he will not be caught lacking in, no matter how fake it is.

And maybe, for a few personal reasons known only to himself--and Robin.

(Three months, seven days and one hour before the fateful "date" Steve had turned to face Robin in Family Video and announced "I don't have a crush on Eddie Munson."

Robin had quirked an eyebrow at him. "Of course, dingus. You just did your entire flirting routine, complete with offering to show him how to throw an ax, as practice."

Steve nodded frantically. "Exactly Robs! As practice! For the ladies!")

This is the kind of teasing he instinctively knows Munson can take, in the same way he's always known what his potential dates like and dislike.

He's not psychic, not like El is, but Steve can read people better than he could read books. He knows how to treat people right.

Steve personally doesn't see it as a “gift” as so many have loved to call it. Being nice to people definitely isn't one.

Nancy, bless her, once argued that it was more that he was observant. Clued into body language and thrown away words that other people ignored.

That line of thinking had gotten a little too close to Steve's upbringing for his own comfort, and he'd gently steered it away from that--only for Nancy to call him out on that too, three days later.

"I'm not saying you should be in the debate club, I'm just saying you'd excel at it!" She told him and for all the love he had for Nancy Wheeler, it was days like that which had made Steve happy she was with Jonathan.

Nancy was a shooting star, a girl on fire, someone who had her eyes set on goals and took care of those around her by doing evening she could to help you achieve your own.

The problem, Steve decided, two long years after their relationship ended, was what happened if you didn't have a goal. Because then, Nancy would try and give you one.

A fact that not even moving to California could save Jonathan from.

('All the power to you dude.” Steve told him during their last awkward conversation.

Jonathan had given him a knowing, tight smile, and only broke it when Steve finally gave him a hug.

The two of them never quite knew where they stood with one another, other than together. Steve wasn't sure if they'd ever be friends, but trauma buddies sounded dumb and he didn't know what else to call them.

El had smirked knowingly and said “family” after Jonathan had moved on to hug Mike, and Steve had rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her.

Didn’t tell her that she was right.)

Point being, flowers and chocolate may break Munson’s brain, but the guy wouldn’t be decking Steve over it.

If anything, this was the kind of shenanigans Eddie himself would pull and so, adorned in his dating jeans and one of his nicer, maroon sweaters with his hair perfectly done, Steve swept through the Wheeler’s basement door ready to knock one Eddie Munson’s socks off.

Harrington style.

Ignoring Dustin's loud "Steve, you're late!" and whatever bitchy sentence Mike was trying to spit out around a mouthful of chips, Steve beelines immediately to Munson.

"For you.” He purrs, holding out the flowers and chocolate with a flourish.

Eddie, who had one sneakered foot up on the table, looking like he’d been about to spit out something haughty, froze entirely.

Like Bambi in headlights.

(Five months, two hours, and seven minutes until the date, and Steve Harrington watched Eddie Munson handle the kids--Steve’s kids!--flawlessly.

He’d heard three of them had joined Hellfire. Connected “Eddie the Banished” to Eddie Munson, local freak and drug dealer extraordinaire.

Had his rants and threats about drugs, and then followed it all up with a very series ‘If you dorks smoke weed and cannot drive, or pedal, or fucking fly home, call me.’

Informed Max she could be offended all she liked but yes, he really was going to include her in this. Steve wasn’t an idiot. Sooner or later she’d end up around Munson too, if the boys were hanging out with him.

Then made one good go at catching Munson, planning on telling him he’d be getting an up close and personal visit with Steve’s nailbat should Steve ever find one of his kids high on anything stronger than weed-- only to instead come upon the dipshits fighting.

A rare one, because all three were facing off in a dramatic, angry triangle. Dustin’s arms were crossed, Lucas’s shoulders up to his ears, and Mike with a thunderous expression, all of which screamed trouble.

Steve knew them. Knew without Will or El to calm the three down, they’d blow. That there was but scant seconds before the yelling started, and he’d better move his ass before this became an entire week of hurt feelings and long nights on the phone mediating.

Eddie beat him there.

The guy just--leapt. Like a fucking lemur, into their anger-triangle, and with a voice of authority Steve had never heard him use, spat a handful of words that sounded like what Shakespeare would have written if he’d been the one to tell the hobbits-and-elves story.

Steve paused, curious. Would the brats eat him alive? Turn on him as one?

Perhaps they’d just go full feral today and take a bite out of Munson’s shoulder. Steve, still haunted by thoughts of Dustin high on acid, would absolutely allow it.

Except, Eddie wasn’t torn apart. Except he was now speaking softer, a lot kinder, and the kids were creeping closer to both him and each other.

Dustin had dipped down his cap, Lucas hanging his head but the craziest thing of all?

A loud and clear apology from one Michael Wheeler, an embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks.

More apologies were traded, with Eddie clapping them on the back after. The whole thing was adorable, and suddenly Steve knew exactly why women swooned over a man who was good with kids.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the dopey grin he abruptly realized had crawled onto his face, or the fact that Eddie bossing around a bunch of baby-teen hanger-ons had had him practically fainting in the parking lot but either way, he caught it and he shut it down.

Firmly.

Even if Munson kept playfully trying to bat Dustin’s hat off his head, making the younger shriek and duck.)

"Are you serious?" Mike deadpans in the following silence to Steve’s little spectacle.

"About a date? Always." Steve scoffs playfully. "I have a reputation to keep, Michael."

Lucas blinks rapidly at that, and even Dustin seems lost for words for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish.

"Eddie's a guy, Steve." Mike points out, as if by some chance he simply hadn't noticed.

"And?" Steve challenges back. "That doesn't mean he deserves any less than the Harringron best."

With that he shot a wink to Eddie, before gently setting the flowers and chocolate in front of him.

Judging by the flabbergasted look on his face, Eddie wasn't going to be taking them from Steve anytime soon.

"Maybe if you ask nicely, Eddie will even share his chocolate with you." Steve continues as he sat himself down in the open seat between Eddie and Dustin, as a way to get things back on track.

(Two months, seven days and six hours before the date, Steve sat on the floor of the bathroom after closing the store, head in his hands. "Oh my god, is Eddie Munson my bisexual awakening?"

"Could have been worse." Robin informed him, Twizzler in her mouth, knees touching Steve's. "At least he doesn't sound like a Muppet."

"Kinda looks like he could pass for one though." She added, and laughed when Steve groaned and swatted at her.)

This, he decides, is good for the kids.

Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, it will at least show them that dating someone of your own gender isn’t some terrible thing. An idea he wants firmly planted in their thick, teenage skulls, preferably before Will puts two and two together about what those long, pining looks about Mike meant.

Thankfully the prospect of free candy did exactly what Steve predicted and Munson immediately found himself the target of three pairs of teenage eyes, all craving sugar with the same single minded determination of a seagull.

“Children.” Munson warns, far too late.

He ends up having to shout that he will share only if they stop talking when the inevitable explosion of begging hits, the end of which he turns to find Steve grinning at him.

"I'll get you for this one, Harrington.” Eddie says darkly before opening his chocolate and offering it up to the wolves.

(One month exactly before the date and Robin is shaking her head at him, body shaking in laughter.

“Dating as many girls as you can isn’t going to erase the fact you got drunk and announced you wanted to suck Eddie’s dick, Steve.”

“Shut up Robs.” Steve hissed, crossing out Rachel’s phone number so hard it tore the paper. “It was just the concussion.”

”Which one?” Robin asked playfully, tapping her chin. “Or maybe they all do different things. Like, the Russian incident makes you stare at Munson’s ass, and the plate one makes you wonder how his hair smells--”

“Shut up, Robs!”)

'Now Henderson here insists I don't have to walk you through creating a character sheet. Is he right?" Eddie says, determinedly plowing ahead.

Steve hums an affirmative, simply holding out his hand.

Dustin immediately slides a piece of paper over, talking before Eddie could even start piecing together an insult.

"It's the same guy you played before. I even added the loot from the one shot you played with me and Erica, since it puts you closer to where the party's characters are."

Steve glances it all over, nodding.

"Do you have dice?" Eddie asks, and even to Steve's notoriously bad hearing, the exasperation sounds forced.

Looking dead into Munson's face, Steve smiles and flicks his hand.

Once, twice.

On the third go, yellow dice appear between each finger.

Dustin gasps as Lucas and Mike both let out a loud "Whoa!"

"You never told us you could do magic!" Dustin howls, sounding almost betrayed.

Steve answers without looking, eyes still locked with Eddie's. "I only trot it out for special occasions."

Lucas and Mike gag in unison. It only adds to the smile on Steve's face.

"You're missing three dice." Eddie tells him and his voice is flat but the blush creeping across his cheeks rats him out.

Steve just does the same trick with his other hand, a smug little grin on his face.

"Okay you're showing me how to do that.” Lucas announces.

"If you want." Steve tells him, dropping the dice on top of his character sheet. "I’ll show you later. I've got all the goods, Munson. We ready to roll?"

"Don't rush the DM, Steve." Eddie snips, flicking his own papers out from behind his cardboard shield. "The oneshot we're playing is Battlehill.”

The kids groan immediately, all three talking at once. Something about how the one shot was unfair and someone named Gareth had warned them about it.

Steve just leans over while they were distracted with their moaning, to quietly whisper "I'll make sure to go nice and slow for you then.”

(Two weeks before the date, Steve is glaring at his soulmate. “Hey Robs, when you’re done gloating, could you please help me figure out a way to figure out if Eddie actually likes men?"

"That's not the question you should be asking.” Robin says, making no effort to remove the giant grin from her face. She’d been after Steve to admit defeat since he’d slipped up that one time while drunk and yeah, okay, Steve can finally happily admit that he’s bisexual.

Not might be, not may be, but is.

“No?” He asks, confused.

“No.” Robin repeats, the giggles finally easing out of her voice. “You should be asking how you're going to get his attention.”)

“No. No, stop it, you are not seducing my dungeon master, Steve!" Mike shouts, slamming a hand on the table.

Whoops, maybe he’d spoken a bit louder than he thought.

“Eddie!” Mike whines desperately, shooting a glance towards the metalhead and Steve internally celebrates his victory when Munson not only doesn’t criticize Steve, but instead just claps his hands.

“Everyone shut up, we’re starting.” He calls. “Your party wakes up on the bottom of a hill, with no recollection of how you got there…”

Steve settles in, because this is part of the plan he and Robin had come up with.

He’d been given a chance to give Eddie his perfect date, as over the top as Steve wanted it to be, and he wasn’t holding back.

The real trick was going to be convincing Munson the entire thing was real.

(One hour and two minutes after Eddie Munson bought a date with him, Steve paced across his kitchen floor, phone tucked against his shoulder.

“If anyone can pull off a real date inside a fake one, it’s you.” Robin told him, after hearing the entire story--twice.

“I know, I’m just--” Steve ran his hands through his hair, frown slashing across his face. “I like him, Robs.”

This at least, sobered his best friend. “I know.” She told him, voice gentle. “And you’re gonna get him. We just have to plan it out!” )

xXx Eddie xXx

Eddie had exactly two expectations going into this mess.

One: Steve had no idea how to play D&D, and thus would have to be babied throughout the game.

And two: Playing with Steve would be like playing with a particularly stubborn brick wall.

It’s not that Eddie expected his players to go over the top. Do voices like he does or even get into as hard as he does--but well.

He’s only played a handful of games where people who didn’t enjoy it, and to say they made it a less pleasant experience for everyone else would be a vast understatement.

So color him surprised when Harrington actually engages in the game. Was creative about it, even with Eddie on the defensive with all the weird amounts of flirting.

“A man in the woods once told me my greatest enemy is myself.” Steve says, staring at the minifigure spread out in front of him. “I immediately ran into a wall and knocked myself out to prove I am stronger. If I can defeat myself, I can definitely defeat a dragon.” He delivers his lines not quite in a character voice, but with the same self-assuredness his Barbarian character has.

He looks up, a serious expression on his face. “I say we fight.”

The kids immediately burst into laughter, and Steve grins widely as Mike fights to get himself back under control.

“Sorry, did no one tell you?” Dustin asks, after watching Eddie’s own shocked laugh get away from him. “Steve’s funny.”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use.” Mike bitches, but he’s still giggling, making his point moot.

“Don’t tell him that!” Steve gasps in fake-outrage. “We are on a date, let him find out naturally!”

The joke cuts Eddie’s laughter right off, as all three freshmen groan dramatically.

"Steve, we didn't buy you so you could be gross with Eddie for the whole day.' Mike complains, likely thinking that Eddie's frozen hands were because he was upset, rather than that he was desperately scrambling to get his brain back in working order.

“Technically, Eddie is the one who purchased me." Steve counters, jerking a thumb in his direction. “He gets to decide what we do.”

“We gave him most of the money!” Dustin protests, while Lucas promptly looks anywhere but at Steve.

Harrington’s head turns and once again Eddie finds himself on the receiving end of a look that he’s seen aimed at countless girls over the years. Low-lidded eyes and a cocky little smile, all pointed directly into Eddie’s soul.

It doesn’t make sense. Why Harrington keeps up with this act, why he hasn’t dropped the date angle.

Yeah, sure the flowers and chocolate were amusing, but the “we’re on a date” thing hasn’t stopped.

"Steve, I am on my knees, literally begging for you to stop saying it like that." Dustin groans, putting his head in his hands.

Which frankly is the stupidest thing he could have said because Eddie himself can come up with multiple ways to run off with that little sentence starting with the words “on my knees.”

Steve, apparently is on the same wavelength because he laughs once, quick and sharp, before saying; “Don’t leave me openings like that Henderson, you’ll hear a lot more things than you’ll ever want to.”

Mike makes a vomiting sound, and Lucas pats his back sympathetically.

For a moment Steve drops the charm to send Eddie a hell of a smile and oh, fuck.

Suddenly, the entire game Steve's playing makes sense

It's a bit.

A game, a fake thing he's doing to piss off the kids and a part of it hurts, being flirted like that by his long-time crush, the rest of him is too thrilled to care.

This is the kind of thing Eddie was made for.

If he's down to play, Eddie absolutely is.

"Stop taunting the merchandise." Eddie calls, regaining his voice as he finishes rolling his dice. "I need Harrington in top shape for what I have planned tonight!"

Gives his typical grin but secretly checks to see how Steve takes that one.

Knows that he's switching from defensive to offensive here, and that joke may very well have been across whatever line Steve had for this.

The answer is very, very well.

"You heard the man. He has special plans he needs me in top shape for.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows, and Eddie can't stop the delighted laugh that erupts out of him.

Dustin gags so hard he starts coughing.

“Now, Sir Swearington,” Eddie says, cupping his chin in his hand. “Are you sure you want to use your big boy muscles to fight that dragon?

Now Mike and Dustin are both gagging, and Lucas is turning a lovely shade of green.

Steve sits back against his chair. “Indeed I do.”

(It goes like that for the next two hours of the game.

Turns out Steve’s banter game is just as on point as his humor.)

xXx

“Harrington, what do you do?”

“I walk over, and wrap one of my fingers around her curls--”

And then fucking Steve does just that. Reaches over, gently running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Wraps a finger around a singular strand of curls.

“I tug on them and ask if she’s sure this is how she wants to do things.”

He gives a sharp tug on the hair he has trapped around his own finger, and it took everything in Eddie not to gasp aloud.

Steve hadn’t pulled gently. No, no that was a a fucking--a sex tug! Straight up hair pulling that paired so fucking well with that smug grin on Harrington’s face and oh god, Eddie could feel how hot his face just got.

It takes everything in him to keep his voice steady. “She stabs you in the gut.”

Steve drops the strand of hair with a gentle shrug. “Worth a shot.” He says.

Eddie doesn't know where all the air in his lungs just went, but he’s trying very hard to be smooth about getting it back.

The kids thankfully, are howling with laughter, taunting Steve about him “learning his lesson.” Are so focused on how hilarious the whole thing is they don’t seem to catch Eddie's struggle to get his breathing under control, his heart a wild thing in his chest.

‘It’s just a bit, man.’ He tells himself, over and over but even as Steve playfully argues with Mike and Lucas about something, he keeps sending little glances Eddie’s way.

Like he knows, even if the brats don’t.

God, Eddie doesn’t know if he’s going to survive this game.

[afewproblems]

This is so so so good!!

Writing prompt from this list, requested by @luciana-rowan. #60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." with Steve seducing Eddie with dnd.

This was supposed to be like 1.2k tops however you activated my secret trap card, which is DnD.

-

“Okay, that’s gotta be all there is, right?” Robin asks as she flips through the book again, pausing to flip back and forth between two pages, eyes narrowed like these pages have offended her personally. She’s leaning against the customer side of the counter at Family Video, and Steve is on the other so they can be facing each other.

Steve is double checking all the notes they’ve written out on notebook paper, Robin’s neat print mixed with Steve’s quick scratchy penmanship. They’ve finally condensed the contents (pages and pages of contents) into easier to look through notes and once they close Family Video, Nancy and Jonathan are going to join them at Steve’s and help him and Robin organize the notes in a way that will flow and be easier to follow.

Nancy because she’s good at the organization part, and Jonathan because he’s the only one of them that’s ever even played Dungeons and Dragons, even if it was only twice (he’s a good older brother, after all).

“Jesus Christ, I hope that’s all,” Steve slides the notebook across the counter and offers up a hand for the Dungeons and Dragons book. They swap, to double check that neither has overlooked anything.

“You know,” Robin says, “this is a lot of effort for one game. Do those kids really have all this memorized?”

“Seems like it,” Steve groans, running a hand through his hair. “That’s why I need the cheat sheet. I can’t be holding up their game for twenty minutes just to look up if something is allowed or not.”

Robin looks across the counter and grins at him. “I think it’s so sweet that you’re finally gonna agree to play. Going to this much effort for it, though... You might make Dustin cry.”

“Well, that’s the goal now,” Steve laughs. “Dustin cries or I’m flipping the table.”

“Well, now I want to be there. Either would be great to witness!”

“It’s not too late to make you a character,” Steve says, aiming for nonchalance and knowing that he might have hit the mark for anyone else, but this is Robin, and she’s always seen right through him. She was the one he ranted to this last time Dustin had asked (read: begged) Steve to join a game, the time that worked because Steve could no longer think of reasons to say no. He had said no, though, to Dustin’s face, but once he got home, he scooped up Eddie’s damn Dungeons and Dragons player handbook. Then called and recruited Robin to help.

Robin’s smile softens into something less teasing. “I can join, if it’ll make this less awkward for you.”

Steve’s surprised by her answer. “Oh. You’d- really?”

Robin shrugs. “Yeah, dingus. You might have had a long-standing weird vendetta about being asked to play but. Well, no one’s ever asked me before, so I guess I never had to think about if I would or not. It’s like you said on the phone ‘it might be nice to just to fight imaginary monsters for once’.”

“Our characters could be twins.”

Robin grins but before she can respond the ding of the door chimes. Steve swipes his hands across the counter, causing the book, notebook, and pencils to clatter behind the counter out of view. Back to work.

-

It all started when Dustin asked him to stay for a game months ago. It was the third Dungeons and Dragons game he’d dropped him off at after they’d survived Hell for the fourth (hopefully final) time.

“We play the game, but it’s also a time to like, catch up and chat,” Dustin said, all but pouting at Steve.

Steve had put his car in park and shut off the engine. “If Wheeler’s basement still smells, I’m leaving.”

“Yes!” Dustin cheered.

So, Steve followed Dustin into the Wheelers’ house, called a hello to Karen Wheeler, and made his way to the basement. There had been several startled looks in Steve’s direction, but he’d just walked past the table and plopped onto the end couch beside El, like it was something he did every day. Eddie, Will, Lucas, Erica, and Mike were already sitting at the table, using whatever they could find as chairs. Dustin and he were the last ones to arrive it seems.

El smiled up at him. “Hi Steve. It is nice to have company. I have been watching by myself, since Max can’t get down the stairs yet.”

Well, fuck. Now he’s got to walk Dustin in every time in case El’s in the basement, all lonely on the couch, watching her boyfriend play make believe. “Happy to keep you company, El. You have any idea what’s happening here?”

“I have an understanding of the story, yes,” El nodded and slid across the couch to be close enough to whisper to Steve. She filled him in on what she knew, which is not much because it was a new campaign, but she had sat with Mike and Will when they made their new characters and had been to the two previous games.

When the game got going, Steve watched as El leaned forward on the couch, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. She had seemed raptured with the story, so Steve started to listen in, too. Dustin must have done a shit job at explaining how this game was played these last years, because as he had watched it progress it seemed more enjoyable than it had sounded when described.

More than that, Steve watched as the stress of real life melted away from the kids and Eddie. They were no longer a group of outcasts who had gone through Hell and barely survived. They were a group of friends having fun in a way Steve couldn’t remember experiencing since he had been in elementary school.

It was two more games and one pool party at his own house later before Steve got the idea to offer his dining room up for the game. Specifically, because at the pool party he saw Max sitting in his living room and did a double take at her, the pieces slotting together in his mind. Max couldn’t manage the steep stairs at the Wheelers house, but everything she needed to get to at Steve’s house was ground level – kitchen, bathroom, living room, dining table.

Next session before everyone scattered to the wind, Steve had said, “Hey, what do you say about moving this game to my house?”

Everyone sitting at the table whipped around to stare at him, mouths open and everything.

“What? My house doesn’t smell like armpit and, uhh, Max could come hang out again,” Steve shrugged and was almost mowed over by how quickly El threw herself on him, wrapping his waist in a hug.

“Yes! Yes!” She answered for everyone.

The next game was moved to Steve’s house. He’d rotated the couch so it would face the dining room table so Max, El, and he could sit comfortably and had even bought a bunch of snacks and soda.

Eddie had been the first person to show up. It had taken him four trips back and forth from his van to the dining room to unload everything he’d brought.

Steve eyes it all critically. “I haven’t seen you use half this shit when you play at Wheelers, yet to lug it back and forth. Do you really need it?”

Eddie shrugged, “Who knows? Better to have it and not need it or whatever.”

 “You load and unload all this shit every game?”

“Yeah. Wheeler helps usually but he isn’t here so….”

“If you had asked, I’d of helped,” Steve said. “I didn’t know you would need it, or if you’d want it.”

“Oh.”

Steve’s not sure what to think of Eddie sometimes. They’re friends now, or at least friend-adjacent. Well, it didn’t used to feel like ‘friend-adjacent’ until Steve started to sit in on the Dungeons and Dragons games. He got to see a freer side of Eddie, then. One that smiled and laughed a bit more than Steve ever saw. It’s fine. Steve’s fine. He’s not- he is not hurt that Eddie hides this part of himself from Steve.

Besides, Steve knows he’s the problem. Because Eddie doesn’t have this problem with Robin, or Nancy, or Jonathan. He’s seen Eddie relaxed and chill when they hang out, so long as Steve keeps his distance. And even if he hadn’t been sure that he was the issue before, he was after the first time they made eye contact during a game (accidentally) and he watched Eddie reigning himself in. Made himself smaller right before his eyes. Steve doesn’t understand why but he does his best to give Eddie space.

He thinks, maybe, that he makes Eddie uncomfortable on some level. He doesn’t know how, or why, or if he can change it.

Anyway, the next few games after that Steve helped Eddie unload and reload his van until he finally offered for Eddie to just keep the things he didn’t need at his house.

“If you don’t, y’know, use all of this to actually plan each session, you can just keep it here,” Steve said as they cleaned up, Max, Lucas, Erica, and Dustin helping, since Eddie had offered to pick them up and drop them off this time.

Eddie paused in his gathering of papers to study Steve before saying, “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I use the dining table unless you guys are here. So, just take what you use and leave the rest.”

Eddie took the Dungeon Master book but left his copy of the players handbook.

-

And those series of events have led to this Thursday night, with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and himself sitting at his dining room table, making a character sheet for Robin, and polishing up the one Steve had already made, because Steve isn’t embarrassed about asking for help these days. Jonathan even brought him the set of dice Will had given him when he’d played.

Robin’s not going to join until the next game, but she is going to come watch. Jonathan had explained that adding one extra character would be easy to accommodate but adding two was harder.

“So, if you like the game and want to continue, talk to Eddie about finding a good way for Robin to join,” Jonathan says, pushing the finalized ‘cheat’ sheet and character back to Steve. “If you don’t like playing, she can just replace you next game.”

“Dustin’s going to lose his mind tomorrow,” Steve laughs, having found that the papers look good, and he should be ready to go.

“I think we’re all sticking around to see it,” Nancy says. She’s volunteered to bring Mike, Lucas, Erica, and Dustin tomorrow night, and Jonathan is bringing Max and Robin when he brings El and Will.

“Hey guys, thanks for this,” Steve says when they clean up and everyone gathers to head out.

“Anytime, man,” Jonathan nods to him as Nancy gives him a quick side hug. Robin gives him a hug that lasts far longer before following them out the door. Steve had asked if she wanted to stay over but her parents are expecting her home tonight.

Once Steve is alone, he heads to the phone and dials Eddie’s number.

Three rings and, “Wayne speaking.”

“Hi Wayne, it’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington,” Steve says.

Wayne doesn’t chuckle into the phone, because Steve’s not certain he can chuckle, but he’s definitely amused when he says, “well, Steve Harrington, Eddie’s not home. I can leave a note for him to call you back. I don’t know when he’ll be here.”

“Oh, a note’s fine. I’m usually up late anyway.”

-

It’s a little past eleven when his phone rings. Steve is half asleep on the couch, but the ringing wakes him right up. And if he trips over his own feet on the way to the phone, there’s no witnesses so it didn’t really happen, did it? “Eddie?”

A soft laugh on the other end of the line, “it’s like you were expecting me, Harrington.”

“I was. Or, uh, I was hoping you’d call any way, not expecting because that feels like… loaded somehow.”

Silence, then, “so what can I do for you?”

“Could you, um, come over early tomorrow? Like thirty minutes sooner could work. An hour would be better, though,” Steve looks down and realizes he’s twirly the phone cord around his finger. He stills his hand and yanks it away from the cord, tucking his fist to his chest to keep it in check.

“Oh, I know what you want,” Eddie’s voice says, suggestive in a way Steve can’t decipher, “Yeah, I can come over an hour sooner.”

He’s been caught before he can even surprise anyone, he realizes. That’s the suggestive tone. Eddie knows. And if Eddie knows what he wants, there’s no way Dustin doesn’t already suspect. Ah well. Surprise ruined but it’ll still be fun for the kids. He hopes. Steve puts a smile on his face so he won’t sound upset with himself when he says, “thanks man. I appreciate it. See ya tomorrow.”

-

Eddie arrives a little more than an hour early but Steve’s not going to complain. He’d been pacing in the kitchen near the front window, so he watched as Eddie pulled up. He has the front door open before Eddie is halfway to the door.

“Someone’s excited,” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at him as he passes, moving to the dining room to deposit his armful of stuff on the table.

“Nervous, actually,” Steve says, shutting the door and turning to follow. He almost runs into Eddie when he gets to the turn that leads into the kitchen, and dining room beyond it. “Oh, hi. Thought you were at the table.”

Eddie looks confused. “I gotta go grab the lunchbox. Wait- did you say nervous?”

“What do you need your lunchbox for?”

They stand in the kitchen entrance, just kinda blinking at each other for a moment before Eddie says, in a very confused, slow voice, “maaaaybe I don’t know why I’m here early. What did you want?”

Steve heads to the dining room, motioning for Eddie to follow. He pulls out two chairs next to each other, sliding into one and waiting for Eddie to sit in his. Steve reached across the table, to the player’s handbook and the notebook under it, dragging them closer. He turns to be facing Eddie, sitting sideways in his chair now. “I wanted to see if it was okay for another person to join the game. Today.”

Eddie’s eyebrows get lost behind his bangs with how high he raises them. “What? Who do you know that wants to play?”

“Uh, me,” Steve says, pulling the notebook out from under the handbook, taking out his character sheet and flipping the notebook open to the end of his notes, where he’d taken the time to write out some bullet points with ideas for his character backstory. Then he fishes out the dice from his pocket and deposits them on the table.

Eddie is deathly still and absolutely silent. The only movement is his eyes, which flick between the dice, the pages, and Steve’s face. He’s quiet so long that Steve is worried he made a mistake.

“Or, uh, if you’d rather I not- sorry, I just- Dustin tries to invite me all the time so I thought it would be okay,” Steve says, moving to close the notebook. That’s when Eddie comes back to life, his hand flying out to catch Steve’s, halting his hand.

“No! No, of course it’s fine. I’m just- surprised,” Eddie says, slowly, “you’ve been so against it, very vocally, so I’m just surprised.”

“Yeah. I was kind of an asshole about it all, wasn’t I? But when I think about it, like really think about it, I don’t know why I was against even trying it, y’know? Leftover shit from high school, I think. But I’m not that person anymore, so…” Steve shrugs with one shoulder, not sure why he’s telling Eddie these things. They don’t talk like this, usually. Steve finds he wants to, though. “Plus, watching the games, it looks like you guys have fun. Like, real, forget about your day kinda fun. Besides, Erica enjoys it, and she’s the coolest out of all of us. If Erica likes it, it can’t be just a nerd game.”

Eddie laughs and Steve gets to see that carefree smile Eddie seems to reserve for the kids. “Can’t argue with that. Erica is the coolest of this lot.”

“So, here’s what I was thinking,” Steve says, pulling the notebook between them to discuss the ideas Robin and he had come up with. He was going to play a fighter, so he didn’t have to worry about memorizing spells. If Eddie’ll let Robin join, he’d like for them to be twins, or siblings of some sort at least. Eddie nods, jumps on that instantly. Offers for them to have been separated on accident, so they could work on adding Robin more naturally later, with their two characters having been looking for each other this whole time.

Before Steve even realizes it, he’s been word vomiting for far too long about his character’s backstory and why he’d want to join the Party and Eddie has been silent the entire time, just listening to him, a soft smile on his face. “So, that’s what I got for now.”

Eddie let’s out a whistle and says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

Steve’s brain skips, or freezes, or something, because it just replays that whistle and those words for a few second in his mind before it helpfully supplies the thoughts ‘yes’ and ‘I didn’t know I could seduce you’. He’s just had an epiphany. Unfortunately, his mouth is still working while his brain does this, so it says, “are you feeling seduced, Eds?”

“AHAHA!” Eddie lets out a laugh that is more a bark before he stands up quickly, the chair falling backwards because he hadn’t bothered to scoot the chair back to give him room to stand. “Funny. Dustin’s right, you’re hilarious. I need a cigarette,” and then he all but runs out the front door.

Steve just watches him go before picking up the fallen chair. He can’t wait for Robin to get here. He needs to talk to her.

-

When Eddie comes back in, it’s with Robin, Jonathan, Max, El, and Will. Steve slaps his notebook shut quickly and hopes that Will didn’t notice it. Eddie is talking animatedly with Will upon entry, though, so he seems safe. Robin fast walks to the table and scoops Steve’s dice and shoves them in her pocket, because Will will recognize them if they stay out.

Steve stands, notebook in hand, and grabs Robin’s wrist with his free hand and drags her out back. He makes sure the slide-glass door is closed firmly and leads her around to the other side of the pool. He doesn’t want any eavesdroppers.

“Robin. Ok, so you remember by sexuality crisis last year?”

“Of course, Michael J Fox in Teen Wolf got you hot under the collar,” Robin says, “how could I forget? You cried about it.”

“You cried about yours, too! I just wasn’t there for it.”

“Not mocking!” Robin holds up her hands in defense, “just saying.”

“Robin. I think I like Eddie.”

“Oh!” her eyes go wide, and her mouth stays in a little ‘o’ shape for a moment. Steve stands there, letting her process. “Oh. Ooohhhhhh. That- that makes sense in my mind in a way I cannot put into words. Of course, it’d be Eddie Munson -the exact opposite of Michael J Fox, by the way- to also get you bothered. Why didn’t I pick up on that? How did I not notice this?”

“Because, despite our best efforts, we have yet to successfully combine,” Steve says, linking his fingers the way Robin had that day in Family Video before unlinking them to flip a hand back and forth between them. “We do not have time for you to have a crisis about it because I am having a crisis about it, and one of us needs to be level-headed.”

“Right,” she sobers instantly. “Right. We cannot spiral together. You first, I’ll wait my turn. So, you like Eddie. Enough to…. Want to do something about it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that was a quick answer. You… you really like him. Give me the details. What am I working with here.”

Steve thinks about it. “When he held a broken bottle to my neck, I was terrified. And a little aroused.” Robin says ew. “I’ve thought he was hot since then. But… when he came to at the hospital, all high on the medicine. He’d smiled softly at me and the first thing he said to me was glad you’re here, big boy. I think the actual crush started then.”

“Make sense, tracks, what with your hero complex and praise kink,” Robin nods and paces before turning back to him. “And the realization?”

He can’t argue the hero complex and praise kink thing, because they both know that would be a lie, so he answers, “When I was done rambling about my character idea, he whistled and said If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me and my first thought was yes.”

Robin’s eyes light up before she starts marching in a small circle around him as she thinks out loud. “Fuck, Steve, you really don’t do anything halfway. Alright. So, you want to do something about this, but you have to decide what you want to do. Because you are my soulmate and I want you happy, but like Eddie is also my friend and if you are experimenting… Just. You have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She stops her circling to squint at him and read his mind, he supposes, because her face lights up in delight. “Oh shit! It’s not sexy thoughts! You want to like, hold his hand and cuddle on the couch, and like, cook dinner together and serve him breakfast in bed and bicker about whose turn it is to pick up Dustin from school!”

“Jesus Robin, can you not shout that! We are out here, so they,” he flings his hand in the direction of the house, “don’t hear. But, yeah. I… I like him. A lot.”

“I can see that. Like, really see that. You like him so much that just his company would be enough. Disgusting. Let me think,” she waves him off, like he has been dismissed but instead she’s the one walking away, walking figure eights around area in front of him for a couple minutes before whirling around to say, “You have to make your character a flirt. An outright slut, even. For information gathering purposes of course.”

“What?”

“He plays all the other characters, Stephan,” she says, dragging out his name to make it sound like ‘Steff-fawn’, “and you know he’s good at this… being in character thing! So, like, if you can trip him up by being all flirty, then that’s like, got to be a sign that he likes you, too, right? If he doesn’t like you, he can take it in stride. But! If he’s crushing on you, too, this will be like, too good to be true to him, yeah? That’ll fluster anyone, especially if he plays on our team and probably hasn’t had many guys openly hitting on him. Plus, you can always tell when someone likes you. You haven’t been checking for signs that Eddie might like you because you weren’t even aware it might be possible. And I’m not going to get your hopes up, Eddie could be, like, a totally straight dude, but when will it ever be safer to test this?”

Steve nods. “Yeah… yeah. Eddie is good at this character thing. And I do know when people are interested. And this is safe. If I flirt and he doesn’t react, or if he recoils in disgust, I can write what I’ve done off as it’s the game and I’m just trying to be a good player. Oh God, Robin, what if he’s like not okay with gay people.”

“Then we bodily throw Eddie out your front door, never speak to him again, and tell Will he’s the new Dungeon Master.”

“That seems extreme.”

“It’d be fitting. Eddie didn’t bat an eyelash when I came out to everyone after my date with Vicki. He actually congratulated me. So, if he only hates gay men then he’d be a disgusting lesbian fetishist and he’ll have to go ASAP. I doubt that’s the case, though.”

Steve barks a laugh and jerks his head towards the house, an offer to return inside. They turn towards the house and are greeted by everyone lined up along the glass door and windows that lead to the pool. A few of them (Nancy, Max, Will) have the decency to try and pretend they weren’t watching by turning away quickly but otherwise everyone just stares at each other until Dustin hauls open the glass door and shouts, “Are you two fighting?”

“No, we aren’t fighting,” Steve says as he shoves his way past Dustin and back into the house. “Let me grab the snacks and the game can begin.”

Steve moves to the kitchen, with Robin and Eddie following behind to help gather all chips, dips, candy, and soda and deposit them on any nearby surface in the dining room. Steve then slides into the chair to Eddie’s left, where Dustin usually sits before anyone else can take that seat.

Dustin slides into the chair next to him instead of arguing about it, saying, “Captivated, aren’t you? Guess I’ll let you have my spot so you can pay attention better. Told you this game was great.”

“I’ll be paying plenty of attention, don’t you worry,” Steve says to Dustin before turning to Eddie, who has taken his place at the head of the table, and winking at him, “right, Eds?”

Eddie stops moving for barely any time at all, and honestly, if the whole point of where he sat wasn’t to be close enough to catch and catalogue all of Eddie’s reactions, he would have missed the freeze. “Oh yeah. Steve’s been following the story closely.”

Steve looks around the table and watches the kids exchange glances and shrugs before Eddie begins to recall what happened last game and where the Party is headed now. Steve waits for his cue. Eddie’s got several ways to introduce Steve’s character, just in case the kids don’t grasp onto the plot hooks. But they’re good players, who know when an adventure hook is being dangled in their face. When their characters read the notice board, looking for quests, and come across the one of a man looking to hire help in searching for his lost sister, they buy into it quickly.

“You find yourselves at the tavern where the help wanted poster said to meet. There are three other people inside this early in the day, not including the barkeep.”

“Can I go and ask the barkeep if he knows who put the poster up?” Will asks. Will speaks in the first person who it comes to his character far more often than anyone else, Steve’s noticed.

“Of course. The barkeep is a surly looking dwarf who keeps rearranging the glasses behind the counter. He sees you approaching and listens to your question before saying,” Eddie says in his normal tone, before dropping into a deeper, Scottish accent. “Aye. You passed him on the way in. He’s sitting there, close to the door.”

“Do we approach as a group?” Lucas asks, and after a quick discussion and confirmation that the table their quest giver is sat as has enough seating for them all, they agree to approach together.

Eddie nods and says, “You all approach the table and the figure sitting there looks up as you do. Steve, please describe what they see as they approach you.”

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the table explodes. Dustin shrieks and throws out his hands to grip Steve’s arm and just shake him. “Oh my God. Oh my God. OH MY GOD. STEVE!” Dustin is yelling basically in his ear. Everyone is exclaiming something in excitement, and it gets loud, fast. With no end to the onslaught of screaming in sight, Steve resigns himself to this fate.

It takes far longer than it should for everyone to quiet down, and Steve’s a little red after all of it. Because he hadn’t expected this reaction. He thought Dustin might be a little hyped, sure, but this level of love he feels from all these kids, and for them, and how doing something so small, like joining their game, brings them this much joy… He regrets not joining sooner, honestly.

Finally, they quiet and Steve gets to describe his character, Sir Gregor of House Buckington (Robin’s idea of a last name, he’s not afraid to throw her under the bus for that) and the game progresses. When Steve’s asked to make his first roll of the night, everyone jumps to offer their dice, but he just calls out to Robin. She still has his in her pocket. He shoots a look at Will, who he can see recognizes the dice, and smiles at him as he rolls his first D20.

It's almost two hours into the session before Steve sees his chance to flirt. The Party is trying to negotiate a discount for some healing potions, and they’ve failed their check. They can’t afford the potions and Erica, playing the rogue, offers to try and steal them.

“Can I give Erica advantage by distracting the shop keep?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks intrigued by these. “… Maybe. How would you distract him?”

“Sir Gregor will lean against the counter and say ‘Sorry about my companion’s awkward attempts to swindle you of your goods for a fair price. I should have stepped in sooner, but I was a bit… captivated watching you shut them down’ and try and fluster this guy by flirting with him.”

It’s a mixed bag of reactions from the kids that Steve barely hears because he’s focused on Eddie. Eddie, whose face looks a bit redder than it usually does.

“You wanna… flirt with the shop keep?” Eddie’s voice is a bit higher than normal too. Interesting.

“If that’s allowed.”

“Umm, uh, y-yeah,” Eddie stumbled over his words and Steve can feel himself grinning like the cat that got the cream. Eddie is flustered. Steve has flustered him. Oh. This is going to be a good game. “Roll a persuasion check.” Steve gets a 17. “Lady Applejack, if you would, roll sleight of hand with advantage as Sir Gregor seems to have successfully taken the attention of the shopkeep.”

“I am going to enjoy having Steve play,” Erica says as she picks up her dice. “No one else helps me steal things.”

-

They play for almost four hours, an hour longer than normal, but Steve is surprised by how quickly it slips by and finds that he’s a little disappointed that it has to end, especially since they’ve stopped one round into combat. It’s a terrible place to stop, but if the kids are any later getting home there might be a reckoning done by some parents. The only reason there isn’t one now is because Nancy, ever practical about things, called all the parents about an hour and a half ago to let them know the kids might be an hour or two late getting home.

“We’ll pick up next week,” Eddie says, standing to get a good look at the battle map to copy it into his notebook.

“You can just leave it out so you don’t have to recreate it,” Steve says, like he does every week. “I won’t mess with it.”

And like every week before, Eddie just pulls out his graph paper and starts to track how many squares apart everyone is as the kids pack up their own things and head out. Steve walks them all to the door and Robin hangs back to talk, waiting on the front step. Steve walks out and shuts the door behind him.

“He’s absolutely into you,” Robin whispers. “Do you know that this means? We can go on double dates! I’ll be Eddie’s fake date, because I’m not sure Vicki and Eddie should be left alone to conspire against us but-“

“I think it’s a bit too soon to be planning double dates, Buckley,” Steve cuts her off. “Yeah, Eddie’s into me. But like… into me? Does he even know he’s into me?”

“Right. Could also be in the denial phase, still,” she says, then deepens her voice in a poor imitation of Eddie’s and adds, “I think Steve is hot but in a purely platonic friend-like fashion.”

He laughs, shoving Robin towards Jonathan’s car, where everyone else is loaded and waiting, “go home.”

She leaves laughing and Steve waves them off before going back inside. He finds Eddie at the table, placing the minis carefully back into the tacklebox he keeps them in.

“Seriously, you don’t have to put everything away,” Steve says and Eddie jumps.

“Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me,” Eddie clutches at his heart dramatically.

“I didn’t sneak! You’re lost in your own head if you didn’t hear the door slam or my footsteps,” Steve leans back against the wall, watching Eddie. The other man nods to himself, hands still fiddling with a mini in his hand. The one he’d used for Steve’s character. Steve watches and wishes he could read Eddie’s mind as easily as Robin reads his.

“Thank for playing tonight,” Eddie finally says, placing the mini back onto the table instead of in the tacklebox before turning to Steve. “You did real good.”

Steve gives him a smile he hopes Eddie can see if soft and fond, “yeah? I put a lot of effort into this. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan helped me.”

“You recruited all three?”

“Yeah. I wanted to put in the effort. I’ve watched several games now; I see how much time you all put into this. It’d be an asshole move to agree to join and not, like, at least read the rules.”

Eddie hums an agreement, “would be kinda asshole-ish, but you’re certainly not an asshole anymore.”

Steve fakes wounded, “you thought I was an asshole?”

“Well, it would be a pretty dick move on my part to think you’re an asshole after everything,” Eddie takes a step towards Steve, then seems startled at himself, like he can’t believe he moved. “Anyway, you willing to play again next week?”

“Yeah, man. Looking forward to it.”

“Cool. Cool,” Eddie nods before turning to gather up the stuff he brought with him. “I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Totally.”

Steve watches Eddie head towards the door and feels something like regret in his stomach. Logically he knows he doesn’t have to rush this. Doesn’t have to fling himself at Eddie immediately now that he knows he wants to, knows that Eddie is at least enough into him to get flustered with his ‘fake’ flirting.

But.

But Steve has lived through four apocalypses and Eddie almost didn’t survive one and life is worth taking a chance on doing things he never thought he’d do (like playing and enjoying a game of Dungeons and Dragons), so- He picks up his D20 from the table and gives it a roll, leaves it up to chance if he should do this now or wait.

It rolls around the table, bounces off the books still left on the table before rolling to a stop.

Eh, 8 is good enough.

“Eddie, wait!” Steve flings open his front door and shouts. Eddie, in the process of backing out of the driveway, brakes. Steve runs across his yard and Eddie, window already cracked, rolls it the rest of the way down.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go on a date with me,” Steve says, then winces. He used to be better at this. “Please. I mean, go on a date with me. Oh, that sounds worse, like I’m expecting you to. Which I’m not-I don’t expect you to like me just because I like you. Fuck, I’m ruining this. Would you like to go on a date with me, please?”

Eddie just lets him shove his foot in his mouth, but he looks fond more than annoyed. Still, he says, “I, uhh, didn’t know you were… into guys.”

“Guys in general, sure. You, specifically? Ridiculously into you.”

That brings a smile to Eddie’s face. “Yeah?”

“So, uh date tomorrow? After I get off work?”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie agrees easily.

Steve watches Eddie drive away and suddenly he can’t wait for work tomorrow. Robin’s going to implode when he tells her.

-

-

Eddie, after getting off the phone with Steve: Oh, he wants to do drugs before having to suffer through watching us play dnd again. Better bring my druglunchbox

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok like, “If you are interest in someone, do not tell my husband. Steve is the worst person to tell. All he does is judge you and then criticize them.

Steve, off camera: That’s not true.

Eddie: It is true! Grant just - Grant, can I tell people this? …Cool - Grant just told us that him and his ex-wife have been talking about getting back together. And that’s great! A normal person would say ‘that’s great, man.’

Eddie: Not Steve. Steve’s response was ‘the ex that can’t cook for shit or the one with the big tits?’

Steve: It’s a valid question!

Eddie: Stevie, baby. When Robin told you she was a lesbian, the first thing you did was criticize the girl she had a crush on

Steve: Yeah, because she was a dud

Eddie: And when I told I loved for the first time, you winced at me like I was making a bad decision. You asked ‘why?’

Eddie: And i didn’t even say it first! You already said it a week before!!

Steve: I just think that you should have standards

Eddie: I do!

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[merricatty]

Ugh, the best chaos. 💕

Robin and Steve playing a dnd character together because Steve said the only way he'd play is literally with Robin. They take turns each session for who speaks but always planning together. It's a teenage human, gangly and uncoordinated and a bit of a loner. Everyone sort of lets the "two people playing one character" issue slide, as they want to play a game with their friends.

Robin and Steve have wildly different character voices, and sometimes announce which way they are walking before stumbling in that direction, and also mutter to themself in character. when it's Steve's sessions to talk he flits with the NPCs Eddie plays, but Robin is just a little aggressive to them. The personality changes are kinda weird but everyone is just happy they're playing.

Everything is going well until the big bad of the short campaign they're all playing knocks them into a wall. Not hard, but hard enough they're scrambling and flailing and...splitting in half. By their own description. Immediately they start, with their respective character voices (they are committing to this bit) bickering about whose fault it is. And about what they should do now their cover is blown.

The table is silent.

Robin and Steve have been conning everyone the entire time. They're playing twin halflings, who alternated who sat on each other's shoulders pretending to be a human because they were goofing off the day they joined the party and were too embarrassed by the mix up to correct anyone about it until they had to. Their voices and personality changes are brilliantly embedded as not Robin and Steve not being able to keep consistent, it's because they've been playing different characters. It's brilliant. It's horrible. Everyone fell for it and the reveal essentially pauses play because everyone starts yelling at them.

[rainbow-nerdss]

"How come you never talk to me about sports?"

It's late in the afternoon on a lazy Sunday, and they're just curled up on the couch together. Eddie's got a book in one hand, and he's carding the fingers of his other through Steve's hair. Steve's got the sports pages from the morning paper in his lap, and he's looking through it idly.

He stops when he hears Eddie's question, though, cranes his neck back to look at him.

"Huh?"

"How come you never talk about sports? I just realised I don't even know what teams you support." Eddie dog-ears his book and sets his book aside as he asks.

Steve frowns. "But… you don't care about sports. Like, at all. Why would I bore you by talking about it?"

"Are you bored when I talk about D&D?” Eddie asks, hand stilling in Steve’s hair. Steve shakes his head. “I tell you about my sessions all the time. I tell you about the books I'm reading and music shit, and you always listen to me. You don't really care about any of that stuff, either."

Steve shakes his head. "Yeah, but that’s different,” he tries to argue.

“How so?”

Steve wracks his brain for the words to describe it. “I like listening to you talk about D&D because you get so excited. I like hearing you talk about something you care about."

Eddie smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead. He looks almost smug, like he’s won a debate Steve hadn’t even realised he was part of.

"So let me ask again. Why don't you talk about sports more?"

Steve is quiet, staring at nothing in the distance as he puts the pieces together.

"I never... Nobody ever.... I mean, except Lucas, but Robin and Dustin always rolled their eyes when I made references to it, so..."

Eddie cups Steve’s face and looks him in the eye. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't know. What's the drama right now? How's your team doing in the league or the championship or whatever it's called? Tell me about the last game you saw on TV! I wanna hear you talk about your interests, too."

Steve feels warmth burst in his chest as he sets the newspaper aside. 

Eddie leans back against the couch, watching fondly as he listens. Steve is hesitant at first, stumbling over his words. A little voice in the back of his head keeps tripping him up, telling him Eddie doesn't care about any of this and you're boring him, wrap it up.

Every time he lets the voice win, though, every time he stops talking, trails off, or tries to change the topic to something Eddie might enjoy more, Eddie asks him a question.

"What does that rule mean?"

"How does team selection even work?" 

"What would your dream line-up look like right now?"

And Steve answers. And Eddie listens.

When Eddie finally runs out of questions, Steve's surprised by how happy he is.

"You're really cute when you talk about sports, you know that right? Your face lights up with it."

Steve leans in and kisses Eddie. "I love you."

"Love you too, babe. I really do."

[adverbally]

A Shot Right Through Into a Bolt of Blue

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Temporary Character Death” | wc: 605 | rated: T | cw: temporary character death, vomiting | tags: AU, canon-divergent, what if Steve took Eddie’s place, pre-relationship, canon-typical violence and gore, hopeful ending | title from “Bizarre Love Triangle” by New Order

Keeping this one short and sweet so I can post it while it’s still the 11th in my time zone 😬

———

It’s not a surprise to anyone when Steve insists on staying with Dustin for their mission back to the Upside Down. The kid is like a little brother to him, and Steve’s mile-wide protective streak isn’t about to let him out of his sight. They’ll balance each other out, he argues. The brains and the brawn. It just makes sense.

So Eddie goes with the girls and tries to throw Molotov cocktails like he’s done this before. He stands there and watches Vecna burn and feels something like pride, like a promise fulfilled. This is for Chrissy.

But then Dustin comes on the radio, hysterical and incomprehensible, and any thoughts of victory are erased.

By the time they get there and find Dustin kneeling in the dirt with Steve propped up in his lap, Eddie’s stomach is in his throat and he’s shaking from running all the way here and he just knows they’re too late. It’s like reliving the horror of Chrissy being broken apart right before his eyes.

Unlike before, Eddie doesn’t run. He does something even worse.

He freezes.

He stands there uselessly as Robin tries to comfort Dustin while he wails on the ground. Her eyes are dry but there’s no light behind them, her spirit snuffed out with her platonic soulmate’s death.

He watches Nancy take stock of Steve’s injuries with her typical no-nonsense attitude, finding the spots where he’s bleeding the most, using her belt as a tourniquet, trying to figure out some way to fix this.

Eddie should offer to do CPR or apply pressure to Steve’s wounds or even just pull Dustin into a hug and make sure the kid can’t see any more of the horrors surrounding him. He just can’t make himself move.

His eyes are glued to Steve— the demobat bites covering him with blood, the way his body is limp under Nancy’s efficient hands, the lack of tension in his perpetually furrowed brow, the beloved nail bat that has rolled just out of his reach.

At least his eyes are closed. He must’ve known at the end that it was coming, shut his eyes to save Dustin the memory of his vacant stare—

Suddenly, Eddie is spinning around and lurching to his knees as he retches into the gravel.

He knew Steve, is the thing.

As horrible as everything was with Chrissy, they had only spoken for the first time that day. But Steve… He had time to get to know Steve, saw how kind and brave and real he could be, talked with him about the kids and how utterly fucked up this whole situation was. He wasn’t just Harrington anymore, complete with a derogatory snarl. He was Steve.

Maybe it was stupid to start falling for the first cute straight boy who was nice to him for a couple of days. It wouldn’t be the stupidest crush Eddie ever had. Sure, the chances of it going anywhere were practically zero, but Eddie Munson is nothing if not stubborn. He thinks he would’ve seen it through, at least became a friend to Steve and soaked up his sunshine from a distance.

But as Eddie empties his guts onto the ground, he is suddenly aware that now Steve will just be Steve forever. Not “sweetheart” or “Dad” or “Coach Harrington” or any of the things Steve might have dreamed of. Not Eddie’s friend. Definitely not something more.

Eddie’s not sure if the tears that sting his eyes are from throwing up or from grieving those possibilities.

Then suddenly Nancy is yelling, “I think I feel a pulse!” and they become tears of relief.

[steviewashere]

Eddie who comes back from the dead on his way to the hospital, the party thinking something's monstrously wrong with him.

He's just weirder and quieter. And no, Steve Harrington, Eddie's not a vampire—you can put your boner away. Eddie just has long canines that nobody paid attention to before, they're just noticeable now because they think he's going to turn in a demo creature at any point.

This is because Robin finally wheedled her demobat rabies agenda into their brains.

Eddie is just weird with big teeth.

(definitely not brought to you by the fact that I was looking at pictures of my late dad and realized with a bit of horror that I have his freakishly long canines, too. frankly, I just have my dad's big teeth. but no. definitely not brought to you by that.)

[missingexaltation]

Further 'Steve plays D&D' shenanigans.

He plays in what the party call 'baby's first campaign', the off tangent, more chaotic and lighter campaign that Eddie's running.

He doesn't play properly, because he has zero interest in D&D at all. Eddie lets him get away with it, which everyone else finds unfair, but 'tough shit kiddies, DM's word is law'.

Steve's only character requirement is that he always has 'the bag thing' (aka the bag of holding) and mostly uses it as a weapon. Annoying NPCs, enemies or fellow party members? In the bag they go, and in the bag they suffocate. Only worthy enemies get to be killed by his sword.

He doesn't remember character names or races, instead giving them a nickname and number. (ie frog guy 1, frog dude 2). Jeff and Lucas pick up on this immediately and join in.

At first he doesn't know which of his dice to use and when. Eddie gets used to just handing him the right one...so now Steve automatically holds his hand out whenever he needs to roll. (It's much quicker.)

Once everyone knows that he and Eddie are dating, he openly and blatantly tries to negotiate re-rolls for kisses during their smoke/snack breaks (and sometimes things written down on scrap paper that makes Eddie's eyes go wide). It works most of the time, and the kids hate it, even though it works in their favour.

Steve and Eddie clash only once, when Steve's first character dies early on. Eddie hands him another character sheet, very similar, and Steve immediately names him the same name. Eddie tells him no. Steve argues for a while before looking him right in the eye and changes just the first letter of his name instead (ie Rob instead of Bob).

Steve has zero connection to his character. It's just a fun game to him, but the others take it way, way more seriously. Open the booby trapped chest? Sure, Steve will do it. Drink the potential poison? Why not! Eddie will just give him a new character if it goes wrong. There's no actual consequences, unlike the Upside Down stuff.

Everything is a NAT roll to Steve, not just 20 and 1. Nat 4, Nat 8, the whole lot. Dustin hates it so damn much.

He tries to get as many NPCs to join their party as he can, mainly so Eddie can be 'part of their team' too, instead of 'just playing the bad guys'. Eddie tells him that's not how it works, but Steve's insistent.

In combat Steve WILL waste his potions of healing if one of the party annoyed him recently. Gareth was once rolling death saves, and Steve ignored him to heal a non fatal wound on NPC #24 instead. Gareth nearly walked out, but Will took pity on him and healed him on his turn.

It's a completely different atmosphere to the 'serious' campaign, but that's what makes it more fun. Even though Steve's main goal is to annoy the rest of Hellfire and prove that their nerdy game is supposed to be fun, they don't seem to actually mind.

In fact, they love it when Steve argues back with Eddie. None of them will do it, but the DM threats just don't work on Steve. He had to roll disadvantage all night? He rolls shit anyway. Threats to kill his character off? Steve doesn't care.

And on the other hand, flattery, flirting and outright bribery works so well on Eddie that it's kind of pathetic. Steve knows that Eddie wants him there and takes full advantage to get what the party wants.

Eddie refuses to let him join the main campaign because of it.

[sparkle-fiend]

A wip! I’ve been plugging away at this picture (actually two pictures that go together). It probably won’t be done until next weekend, so I thought I would share a sneak peek!

[ghosttotheparty]

also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

[ghost-proofbaby]

tattoo artist eddie who starts at tattoo artist steves shop and falls his steves girl, the receptionist.

no okay but please. PLEASE.

eddie and steve got along well enough. eddie poked so much fun at steve for not having tattoos but being an artist, but he comes to realize the man is fucking INCREDIBLE. he puts on some silly pop music, gets comfy, and can just tattoo like no one's business for AGES. he wasn't much of an artist before tattooing (he learned to draw from his current apprentice -- ROBIN), but something about suddenly seeing skin as the canvas just clicked the artistic part FULLY into place. (and it's the opposite way for robin: she can draw like no one's business, but when it comes to tattooing? nope nope nope. hands shake too much, is scared/has issues with knowing she's inflicting pain, etc.)

and then steve introduces the two of you. steve's girlfriend. fully tatted up, certified golden retriever. the sweetest person eddie thinks he's ever met - just two minutes with you and he needs to get a dentist on speed dial from all the cavities.

and it's hard. because he already had a terrible and confusing crush on steve, and now he wants steve's girl too? every day is the circus for that poor booboo the fool at his new job, and it's all because of you and steve.

*insert intense bisexual panic meme for eddie because i can't find one rn*

[morganbritton132]

With the release of the new DnD movie soon and the increase in popularity in the game, how do you think Eddie in this AU feels about it? Does he have long ass rants on Tiktok/his livestreaming platforms?

I think Eddie would be ecstatic.

Not just that people are getting into the game more, but for the movie itself. He’s talked about it enough times on his channel that some people have been like, “…Is this a sponsor?”

Some of his fans think that he’s going to make a cameo in the movie, but he’s not. He just thinks that it looks like a fun movie, made by people who seem like they love the game. And also, Chris Pine.

He’d love to see the movie on opening night, “But SoMeBoDy has other obligations.”

Steve, who agreed to cover for the Girls’ Basketball coach while she’s on maternity leave months ago, just gives Eddie a look because this has been an ongoing conversation, “Go with Dustin.”

“I don’t want to go with Dustin. I want to go with you.”

“Go with Dustin,” Steve repeats, “And then we’ll go see it over the weekend. You can warn me if they use strobe lights.”

I think when Eddie does go on his long ass rant (Monologue. It’s a monologue, Steve), it’s about gatekeeping. People are getting more and more into D&D and there are always a few fans who try to gatekeep. When one of Eddie’s fans mentions that they were discouraged from playing because they don’t know everything about the game, he’s like, “You don’t gotta know everything! All you need is some dice, some friends, and basic math skills. Or a calculator. Anybody telling you that you need more than that is a fraud.”

Another fan says that they’re interested in playing, but their boyfriend says that girls can’t play D&D. Eddie’s just like, “Yeah, dump him. Anybody who says that girls can’t play D&D can talk to Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair. Some of the most insane things shit that has happened in my campaigns have been because of girls. They’ll come up with some of the wildest shit you can think of and save their party’s ass. Tell ‘em hon.”

“You ever see girls play barbies?” Steve asks. “It’s like that but with math. You’ll be alright at it.”

[stincorrect]

(Playing D&D) Eddie: Alright. I’ll tell you guys which path to take if Steve gives me a high five. Steve: Nope. I don’t do high fives. Eddie: Slap it boss. Steve: Not gonna happen. Eddie: Party on the top floor. Steve: Nope. Eddie: Little slappy, make daddy happy. Steve: That’s weird.  Eddie: Come on, just one little high five. Steve: Oh no thanks, I’m good. Eddie: Here, just do this (*mimics high five*), but with your hand. Steve: Thank you for that demonstration. Really cleared up exactly what I will not be doing. Dustin: Steve! It’s a high five! The other paths lead to certain death. GET PERSPECTIVE!

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 4608

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, enemas, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 8: Sensory Reset Therapy

Previously:

Steve may have made up his mind to quit Hydra, but he still has a job to do for the time being, and that’s to take care of Bucky the way he needs. He finds the specific audio track he wants and sends it through to the room’s system, then closes out the laptop. "Okay bub," he says, pushing out from the desk and standing. "Time to come down nice and gentle from your high."

He goes over to where Bucky’s been investigating the plushies and steers him towards the area of the room that’s covered in foam floorboards. Bucky’s eyes light up and he starts heading for the very same rocker that Steve had scraped him off of that morning. Steve chuckles and grabs him by the shoulders, pulling him away from it. “Ah ah, bub. You’ve had enough of that today.”

“But Steeeve,” he whines, sounding younger than usual. “I need to. I feel all … nghh.” He makes a face and squirms, rubbing his padded butt back on Steve to no avail. “Please?”

Steve calms him down with promises that he’ll get to have as many orgasms as he wants during this session. “What do you think we’re in here for, silly?” Bucky goes lax again at the promise, and waits while Steve gets everything ready for their session together. “You’ve done one on one sensory before, yeah?” he checks, already knowing the answer. Bucky nods, and Steve rumbles in approval. “Okay, good. That’s what we’re going to do.”

Bucky looks at the things Steve’s arranged and huffs, though his scent betrays his interest. “Why can’t I just rock?” he whines. Steve pulls him close and threads a hand into his hair, using a gentle but sturdy grip to ease his head back and force eye contact. Bucky looks up at him with parted lips and blown pupils. “Alpha?”

Steve kisses his forehead to keep from kissing him straight on his mouth. “It’s because of the fit you had earlier, Honey. I can’t just let you rock mindlessly. This is a partnered activity. We need to keep you present and engaged while you feel things, so you don't just slip into another fugue.”

Bucky grumbles obstinately, and Steve smiles and bops him on the nose with a finger.

“Don’t be that way. Any time we do hormone inflation we gotta do sensory after. Those’re the rules.” He doesn’t bother detailing it much further, knowing that the information would probably only go in one ear and out the other, with the state Bucky’s in right now. Instead, he uses both hands to give him a scalp massage and explains, “This’ll help you come down nice n’ steady, bub. It’s gonna feel really good.”

Bucky, who currently has his face mushed into Steve’s chest, groans in pleasure and nods. “Mmph. Kay.”

“Good boy.” Steve pulls him back and gets a look at his face. “Do you want to keep your clothes on or be naked?” he asks. “Any way you want is fine. It’ll just be different based on what you pick.” He waits patiently while Bucky struggles to decide. When it becomes clear that the kid is too dumbed down to make much of a choice, and that the options are stressing him out, Steve takes pity on him. “Why don’t we start with taking just your top off for now, huh?” He rubs his upper arms, squeezing lightly. “Mm? That way I can touch your chest and your tummy. How’s that sound?”

Bucky chirps in agreement, so Steve helps him with the shirt, then guides him down to kneeling on the padded floor. “There ya go.” He pushes over a half barrel-shaped support for Bucky to straddle, helping him settle over it. “How’s that?” he checks, palming his shoulders. “Comfy?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. His eyes are already hazy, looking like they’re ready to slip closed at any moment. He shifts a little in place, moving his bottom against the support and feeling the pressure of it between his legs. His shoulders stiffen for the barest second, and then he relaxes even further, humming happily as his hips give another experimental shift, and then another. “Oh, mm, mmm …”

He’s so sweet when he’s fully in his instincts like this. Steve’s chest flares with fondness and he encourages him with a gentle murmur. “There you go. Good boy. See? You can rub on it like that if you want, and I’ll help you focus on everything else we’re doing.” This particular half-barrel form isn’t as soft as some, and it’s not shaped for mindless stimming in the same way the rockers are. It would take a bit of effort for Bucky to work himself up to orgasm on it, especially with the added layer of his diaper to work through.

Steve watches as he gives a few more hopeful rolls of his hips, the muscles of his legs tensing and releasing underneath his pants as he grips the form with his thighs. Steve keeps rubbing his shoulders until Bucky gives a frustrated whine from the lack of stimulation. He slumps in resignation and looks to his Alpha with big, pitiful eyes, asking for help.

“Good,” Steve praises. “Okay, Honey. So for now I just want you to relax. Can you close your eyes for me?”

He waits, and Bucky obeys and closes his eyes, his dark lashes resting prettily against his cheeks. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, and for a moment he starts moving them closer to his crotch, but then stills as if he’s realized what he's doing, and keeps them on top of his thighs.

Steve swallows heavily, aware of his own dick plumping up in his pants yet again. “Um, good,” he croaks, forcing himself to ignore it. “Okay. Now keep your eyes closed. Just listen to the sound of my voice.”

There are posters on the wall that chart out the various basic ASMR starter dialogues. Steve chooses the one that matches the audio file he selected, and he reads through it in a low and soothing voice while keeping his hands heavy on Bucky’s shoulders. He can feel Bucky shiver in response to the intimate and praise-heavy words. It’s an old-school, traditional gender roles-themed script; a guided dialogue of an alpha to their omega, with lots of pet names and gentle comforting. The track that goes with it, Steve knows, has a lot of the hypothetical omegas' soft moans, and the alpha's answering murmurs of encouragement—all things which Bucky has responded well to in the past.

“Okay,” he says when he’s finished the sample. “So that’s what the audio will be like.” He slides his hands up Bucky’s neck and circles his thumbs in at the base of his skull just behind his ears, eliciting a quiet moan. “Did you like how it made you feel when I said those things?”

Bucky continues to breathe open mouthed for another minute or two. His lips are swollen and wet, his eyes still closed obediently. There’s a pleasured little pinch between his eyebrows, and he nods his head as he works on verbalizing an answer. “Uhh—uh huh.”

“Good.” Steve pets his hair to comfort him and gently says, “You know … I can smell a little change in your scent right now. Are you aroused?” Bucky whines and Steve shushes him with a chuckle. “No, no, Sweetheart. You’re okay. That’s the answer I was looking for. You’re responding beautifully already, you know that?” He cups Bucky’s face and strokes a thumb gently at the corner of his eyelid. “You're keeping your eyes closed and staying focused just like I asked. What a good job you’re doing. So smart and pretty, being so good for Alpha.”

Bucky doesn’t know it, but it’s been well documented these past three years, how well he reacts to praise. It’s noted in all his charts. He responds much better to gentle praise and encouragement than he does to any sort of firmness or discipline, and he's in the ninetieth percentile for how strongly he responds. Even now, just being given a few words of encouragement, he’s already softening under Steve’s hands.

“Such a good boy for me, Buck,” Steve praises again. He gives his shoulders another squeeze and then pulls away to grab the restraints: a puffy pressure collar that has a strap attached to go down the patient’s back, with two wrist cuffs there, one atop the other, to keep the patient’s hands behind their back. It’s all made from soft but sturdy fabric, and in butter yellow, of all colors; certainly nothing you’d see in a sex shop or a BDSM dungeon. Soft, but it’ll do the job. Normally Steve would think about using one of the comfort coats to really give Bucky the full effect of a long and steady hug, but he has a general idea mapped out of how he wants to stimulate the kid in this session, and he’ll need access to more skin than that would allow. So he brings the restraints over and runs the fabric of the straps against Bucky’s skin: over his cheek and down his naked neck and back. “Feel that?” he asks softly. “It’s a collar and some cuffs in the back. That’s what I’m gonna tie you with, okay?”

Bucky nods, a belated “kay” coming right after. Steve puts the collar on first, wrapping it firmly around his neck and securing the Velcro. Bucky makes a tiny sound at the feeling of the pressure against his glands. “Oh.”

Steve chuckles and moves to secure his wrists. They go one on top of the other, resting right at the small of his back, and Bucky’s hands curl into loose fists as he accepts the restraint. “That feel nice, Honey?” Steve asks.

“Y-yeah.” Bucky tugs a little with his arms, making another small sound of enjoyment when he feels himself held fast. The tugging of his arms will only bring more force through the collar’s pressure points at his glands, so it’s a positive feedback loop. “Mmm. S’nice,” he mumbles. On the half-barrel form, he’s widened his knees a bit, putting more of his weight through his crotch, hips shifting restlessly.

Steve gently stills him. “Hang on, bub. Just a couple more things.” He grabs the blindfold from his pile of supplies. Again, it’s nothing hardcore—just an elasticized loop of blue terrycloth. “Here you go.” He slips it on him and Bucky’s body seems to melt another inch into the floor. Not being able to see will make everything else Steve does to him feel more intense—which is, of course, the entire point of the session. Steve stands in front of him and cups his jaw. Bucky presses his cheek into the touch, and Steve’s previously half hard cock is suddenly filling again, interested in what’s going on. He uses his free hand to give himself a harsh press from over his clothes. “Okay. I’m going to put noise cancelling headphones on you,” he tells him softly. “All you’ll hear is the track, but you’ll feel me stimming you, during. I’ll be right here with you the whole time."

Bucky nods, shifting in position again. “Steve, what if I have to, um … go?”

The fact that he’s even asking means that he must feel at least some urge in his bladder right now. “Then you can,” Steve tells him gently, petting at his cheek. “You’ve got your diaper on. It’ll just be another thing to feel.”

Bucky whimpers and squirms a little at that, but the restraints quickly calm him down.

“Shh, you’re good. Here.” Steve fetches one of the candles he’d lit, kneeling down in front of Bucky and pouring some of the melted oil into his own palm. It’s warm but not too warm, as these candles are designed for aromatherapy massage. He spreads it between his hands and then claps them onto Bucky’s shoulders.

“Ah.” Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat, shocked, and then he lets it out in a long moan. “… Oohhhh.”

“Mm, yeah. I bet that feels good, huh?” Steve leans over for the headphones and checks to make sure the Bluetooth is turned on and working. “You just make some racket if you need ‘em off at any point, m'kay?” He slips them over Bucky’s ears and turns on the ASMR recording. Bucky gets still for a second, listening, and then he relaxes as the soothing tone of the alpha Voice on the track’s dialogue seeps into his brain. Steve continues to massage him with the warm oil while he watches it happen:

He's beautiful, slowly dissolving into pleasured hums and purrs as he takes in the audio. Steve brings his hands down to rub Bucky's chest. It’s still a little swollen from his body’s reaction to the inflation session, his normally flat breast tissue engorged and his nipples puffed up. Steve slides his hands all around, kneading and pressing what little there is to play with between his fingers, thumbing back and forth over the buds of his nipples as they draw into hard peaks, darkening in color and achingly pretty from the shine of the oil. Steve licks his lips and soaks in the sight of his big hands on such delicate skin. Fuck, it’s gorgeous. He hums happily when he can see Bucky beginning to pulse his hips against the form again. “There you go. That’s right. Rock it out while Alpha touches you. Bet it feels so good, huh? All this warm, slippery oil on your tits. They’re extra sensitive right now, aren’t they? Yeah, I know they are.”

Bucky can’t hear him, but Steve murmurs the words anyway, maintaining a steady string of filth to give himself some sort of outlet for his own arousal. Under his pants, his cock is hard and pulsing, pressed uncomfortably against the seam of his compression briefs, not understanding why it hasn’t been buried in somebody’s wet cunt by now when the room is suffused with the smell of an omega’s climbing arousal and slicking asshole. But Steve is a professional, goddammit, so other than a few peevish glances down at his throbbing dick, he manages to ignore it and keep his focus on his patient.

He can tell exactly when the ASMR dialogue finishes, because Bucky becomes restless, frowning and then chirping plaintively at the loss. Steve removes the headphones and rumbles low in his chest to soothe him. “You’re okay. I’m right here with you, bub.”

“Daddy,” Bucky whines, mind still stuck on the audio, which Steve knows used the title 'Daddy' in its script.

Hearing it makes his chest tighten and his balls throb. Bucky’s never really called him that much before. It’s an old-fashioned term, an endearment that encompasses all of the deepest, most intimate things that an alpha can share with their omega. To someone like Steve, it means far more than the title of ‘Alpha’ ever could. It implies care and belonging and devotion. It means love. “Oh, Buck,” he says, moving the massage lower down to the kid’s belly. “Is that what you want? Want me to be your Daddy?”

Bucky moans at the question and at the feeling of big, strong hands rubbing him. He presses into it. “Daddy, yeah, oh …” On the floor, his knees part a little wider and he rocks harder against the form between his legs. The bulge of the diaper is obvious as he humps, and it makes him whimper self-consciously. But Steve encourages him with gentle sounds, holding him at the hips and guiding him in the motions.

“Shhh, that’s good. That’s so good, Bucky. That’s what Daddy wants. Daddy wants you to feel everything.” He brings one hand further down to press on the front of Bucky's pants, squeezing on purpose to make the plastic crinkle. “Mmhm. Feel that?”

“Nnnn, nn-hnngh.”

“Aw,” Steve coos, jostling his handful. “I know, Honey. I know. Does it just feel so nice, all that padding smooshed up between your legs? Rubbing your little cocklet on it?”

Bucky makes a hurt sound and tugs against his restraints, and Steve figures it’s in response to his use of the word 'cocklet'. Before his transition, Bucky had plenty of time to grow up ascribing worth to his penis like any other beta boy, but he’s shrunk up quite a bit in the past few years. One of his therapy goals has always been to build a positive self-image around his changed body.

So Steve shuffles closer on his knees and pulls him into a hug, hushing his cries. “Shhh. S’okay. Daddy loves the way you look down there. You know that? You’re so beautiful. You’re perfect.”

“I sh–shouldn’t ...”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn't like it?” Bucky makes a miserable little noise of assent, and Steve tuts and rubs his back, finding one of his bound hands and giving it a squeeze. “Stop. It’s okay to let it feel good, bub. It’s okay. I love that this feels good for you, y’know that? I love it.” He kisses the side of his head. “I love you.”

Bucky keens and nuzzles his face against Steve’s chest, leaning fully into him as his scent blooms richer with an added layer of intensely happy omega. He doesn’t say “I love you," but Steve knows it all the same, and his confidence over whether that was the right thing to say out loud is bolstered.

Somehow, at some point, this thing between them has gone from purely medical to intensely personal, from sex to love. And the only thing Steve knows for sure is that it didn’t happen in the last few hours or even in just the last few days. It’s been building for a while, obscured by Steve’s professionalism and Bucky’s insecurities, by the large gaps of time between one stay on-ward and the next. But now that they’re both in a place to let that truth come bobbing to the surface, Steve can finally see the full shape of it: Bucky is meant to be his omega. He always has been.

Steve hugs him tightly for a long moment like that, just breathing in the scent of his pheromones, the slick in his diaper and the cheap hospital shampoo in his hair. Only when Bucky starts moving his hips again does Steve pull back, putting just enough space between them so that he can see everything and enjoy the view.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s world is still completely dark, the soft material of the blindfold blocking out any distractions. His breathing gets a little heavier the more worked up he gets, and even though he’s pretty dumbed down at this point, the sweet thing still tries to communicate, stringing together a bunch of slurred words in lieu of real sentences. “F-feels good … don’ w-wanna … nnngh, it’s so, mmmm, f-feels so—Oh! ... god. I jus’ wanna, I wanna …” he whines loudly in frustration, the tail end of it morphing into an angry sob as his hips shove forward.

Steve tuts and pets him to calm him down. “That’s alright, Sweetie. I know what you’re tryin’ to say. I know it’s a lot. Alpha knows.”

“—l‘pha,”

“Shhh. No need to get frustrated, bub. We’re just exploring all these different feelings, right?” He waits for Bucky to settle down and nod. “Good boy. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, Buck. I’m gonna make you cum, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good. All you gotta do is listen to my voice and sink into it, okay?”

Bucky says his name—a shaky, broken “Ss-teve,” that makes Steve’s heart swell and his cock throb. Without thinking, his hand finds its way to the crotch of his own pants and cups his erection. Fuck, he’s so hard. He even gives in to temptation for a second and squeezes himself, jerking over the fabric to bump the head just the barest bit. But then he gets a hold of himself. He exhales harshly through his nose and yanks his hand away.

No, he thinks sternly. He’s managed to do his job ethically for over three years with this kid tempting him. He’s not going to fuck it up this late in the game. All those things he’s been dreaming of: touching himself, touching Bucky while touching himself, and—god—letting Bucky touch him; those’ll all have to wait just a little bit longer.

He hastily leans over to reach for something from the pile. The suckers are the first thing his fingers touch and he grabs them up, wasting no time in applying them deftly to each of Bucky’s nipples. Bucky, who can’t see what’s coming, makes a sharp cry of surprise as they latch on, the sound dissolving into an uncertain but pleasured warble in his throat. “Ohh,” he breathes. “Mmm …”

Steve smiles. Really, they’re for use on any erogenous zone or pressure point. More often than not, he’ll use them for gland stimulation on his younger patients who aren’t yet cleared for sexual touch therapies. But they work just as well on the chest or genitals. The suction keeps them sealed to Bucky’s skin, sticking straight out like little rubber knobs.

Bucky moans and squirms as his nipples are slowly pulled into the pressure, whispering a tiny little “ohhffuck,” under his breath.

“That'a'boy,” Steve hums. He goes back to rubbing his tummy, thumbs dipping just below the plastic waistband of the diaper to dig in at either side of his pelvis. If he angles it just right, he can get at the glands that’re hidden under the muscle there. Bucky’s still making pleasured noises of confusion at the pressure on his chest and how good it feels. “This is normal. Your body’s extra sensitive from the enema,” Steve reminds him, because the poor kid is definitely too far in his head to remember that right now. Steve frees up one hand to nudge and flick at the suckers, intensifying the sensation, and Bucky sobs,

“Ungh, noooo. Oh god. I have’ta, have’ta … nngh.” He pulls against his restraints, shoving his crotch forward. “S-steve, I can’t. I’m gonna.”

“It’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay, bub.” Steve hasn't missed how he’s been licking compulsively at his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it, over and over, stimming to satisfy his body’s natural reflex. Maybe it’s time he had something in his mouth. Steve hadn't thought to pick out a gag, but there is a jar of PheroGel sitting in the pile of things he’d hastily grabbed for this session. He pulls it over and unscrews the lid. The stuff comes out pearly white and creamy, lewdly similar to the appearance of cum (so of course it sends his mind wandering). He coats two fingers in the stuff and brings them up in front of Bucky’s slack mouth.

Immediately, Bucky reacts. He whimpers and searches out blindly, bumping into Steve’s hand before eagerly drawing him in. “Mmmn.” His lips mold to the shape of Steve’s fingers and suck hard. "Mm, mmph ...”

Steve chuckles lowly at the display. “That’s it,” he murmurs, letting him suck them clean before dipping back into the jar for more. He feeds the fake cum into his mouth with a sense of awe, watching as Bucky’s gorgeous lips shape to his fingers and suck in long, demanding pulls. God, the kid has a pretty mouth, so lush and full. Steve can’t help but to imagine those same lips wrapped around the head of his cock, instead; how wet and red they’d be as Bucky worked hard to pull what he craved out of Steve’s body.

If you were mine, Steve thinks, then changes it to 'when', in his mind. When Bucky is his, Steve’ll jerk off into a cup every day if the omega wants. Save up every bit of his spend that isn’t fucked straight into Bucky’s ass, feed it back to him leisurely whenever he needs or wants it. Maybe fix up a slow-pull sucker tool for him to work at during the day when Steve’s away at his new job.

Because he is getting a new job. Kneeling here in front of Bucky and seeing him like this, Steve has no doubts anymore. He needs to be Bucky’s Alpha. He needs to bring this boy home with him. For good.

Even though Bucky seems to be enjoying the taste of the PheroGel, he eventually turns his face away, forcing Steve’s fingers from his mouth. His lips are shiny from the fake cum and he’s panting harder all of a sudden. “Oh.” His hips jerk and his face goes pink. “Oh, S-steve, I think … I’m gonna …” He shudders and stops breathing, body taught as a bowstring, and for a few long seconds, Steve isn’t sure if he’s wetting or orgasming.

“Ohhgn-shhit.”

An orgasm, Steve concludes, as he slides his hands all over Bucky’s skin and eases him through it. The scent of omega release hits the air, telling him that Bucky’s managed to stimulate his prostate enough to find that deeper level of pleasure. Normally, it’d be impossible without penetration, but the enema must have his insides swollen enough and sensitive enough that he’s been able to achieve it nonetheless.

Steve groans at how fucking hot that is and rubs encouragingly up and down his sides. “Good,” he praises, letting the pleasure he’s feeling come through in his voice. No point in hiding it anymore: He’s aroused as fuck. “That’s so good, Honey. Did you get a release out, there?”

He knows he did, but Bucky’s shaky nod confirms it. “Mm. Mm hm,” he grunts, his hips still making shuddery little movements through the aftershocks. “Oh. Oh no ...” he whispers, freezing up again. That’s when the faint hissing sound comes, and Steve knows he’s lost control of his bladder. He whines and pitches forward, hiding his face in the bend of Steve’s neck and shoulder. “Nnnnhh!”

Steve just holds him and coos a steady stream of supportive nonsense, hushing and comforting him the entire time. He wraps one arm around his waist and worms the other down between his legs, cupping where the warmth is spreading and making the diaper fill out. “Shh,” he soothes, letting Bucky moan and rock into it. He provides pressure with his hand and hugs Bucky tight against him. “Remember what we talked about? This happens. It’s totally normal. Just means you’re feeling relaxed and safe like you should be, right? Thaat’s right. Shhh. Just let go now and enjoy the way it feels. Doesn’t it feel so warm and full?” In his arms, Bucky sobs and nods, and Steve hums in understanding. “I know, bub, I know. Such a relief, huh? That’s okay. Just feel it, just get it alll out. Alpha’s right here.”

Bucky’s sounds of distress lessen to almost nothing the longer it goes on and the longer Steve holds him and tells him that it’s okay and that he should just enjoy it. It still takes him a while to finish wetting. Under Steve’s palm, the padding bulges out to an obscene fullness, and when he keeps up the pressure he’s been providing, Bucky eventually begins making little, aroused huffs again. He grinds against Steve’s hand and works himself up to another orgasm, tipping over the edge when Steve plucks the suckers off his chest.

“Ah!” His cries are shorter and sharper this time—an orgasm, but no release.

Quite predictably, after it's over he gets very sleepy, very fast. It’s been a long morning but a good one, and Steve kisses his forehead when he goes limp, utterly spent. “Good. You did so good, Buck. Let’s get these restraints off, okay?” he whispers, already working away on the cuffs. The fastenings are nothing but Velcro, so it’s only a second until he’s got Bucky free of both the collar and the attached cuffs. He tosses them aside and gathers the omega up in his arms, carrying him off to get cleaned up.

This may be (and hopefully is) Bucky's last day as a Hydra patient, but that doesn't mean he won't have some group classes and therapies left to attend with the other boys in his cohort that afternoon and evening. Steve will just have to find a way to fill his own time, leave Bucky to his schedule, and hang in there while he gets the ball rolling to secure Bucky's release into his custody.

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