#steve's bisexual awakening

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I like Steve already knowing but I also like Steve figuring it out with Robin when Eddie comes along. They're pouring over magazines on the floor of Steve’s bedroom as they do queer research. Steve’s got his actual glasses on as he pours over one magazine. Robin has fake glasses on just so she can look as smart as she is and also to match Steve. She's got one magazine in her hand and a pencil in the other as she quizzes her best friend. I don't know. The image is so cute, especially if they're kicking their legs in the air.

[tinkerbclla]

caught red handed showing feelings

Steve pretended to hate gossip. He rolled his eyes and scoffed whenever the girls got started — and boy, with Robin and Nancy together, did they get started — but he always found himself listening in. He couldn’t help it.

Besides, his childhood nanny practically raised him on gossip, teaching him how to listen to the conversations around him without making it glaringly obvious.

“You know, I heard that Eddie’s been sleeping with Jenny Nicholson,” Robin whispered conspiratorially to Nancy, leaning over to where she sat to keep the younger girls from overhearing.

Steve had been invited to girls’ nights since the beginning, since he’d offered to pick up Max, El and Erica and drop them on Nancy’s doorstep so that she could “set up”, whatever that meant.

He later learnt that it meant organising snacks and pampering supplies. And hey, Steve was secure enough in his masculinity to enjoy a face mask every once in a while.

Or once a week.

Steve couldn’t hold back his scoff at the topic this week, wondering if it counted as gossip if it was simply untrue.

Robin and Nancy whipped their heads around to Steve, pulling apart where they had been leaning just a little too close together to be considered friendly. Nancy raised a single eyebrow at him, inviting Steve to elaborate.

“Come on,” Steve scooted closer to the girls now, done with pretending that he hadn’t been listening intently to begin with. “He’d never go out with someone like Jenny Nicholson.”

The way that Steve said her name conveyed enough of his reasons, or he’d hoped so, until Robin turned to him and asked, “Why not?” with an eyebrow raised in a mirror of Nancy’s expression.

“She’s — she’s—” Steve floundered for the reason, he knew there was a reason. He just needed to find it.

“Yes?” Robin was smirking now. 

“She’s too preppy,” He started with. “He wouldn’t like that. She listens to the wrong music. And she doesn’t even play the little nerd game of his. Or read the books he likes!”

“And you care because…” Robin pushed. 

“I don’t care!” Steve insisted, raising his hands in his defence. His raised voice earned a judgemental look from Erica, who quickly went back to painting Max’s nails, El braiding her hair. He realised how guilty that made him look, and what did he have to be guilty for, really? He didn’t care, but Eddie was his friend, and he knew what he liked, and –

“Steve…” Nancy started, finally doing more than just watch the chaos unfold.

Steve crossed his arms, “I don’t.”

Robin’s expression shifted from mocking to outright mischievous; Steve held his breath.

“And does this happen to have anything to do with the copy of Lord of the Rings beside your bed,” she tilted her head as she talked, her smirk only growing. Steve didn’t think it was possible for a smile to be that big. “The one that has Property of Eddie Munson scrawled on the inside cover?”

Steve tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but choked instead. Why was his throat closing up right now? 

“I see,” Nancy mused. “And would this also be why you suddenly stick around to watch the guys play Dungeons and Dragons?”

If Steve had known this was what they’d be like together, he wouldn’t have told Robin he was okay with her crush on his ex-girlfriend. He was going to have to rescind his blessing.

Except for the fact that they weren’t entirely wrong. This was the first time he’d put so much effort into learning someone’s likes and dislikes since Nancy, since he’d gone out of his way to integrate himself into their hobbies.

And sure, Nancy’s hobbies at the time mostly involved studying, which helped him too, but still.

He’d never paid attention to this stuff before. Not even for Dustin. And Dustin’s the kid brother he never had. 

What made Eddie so different?

Deep down, he knew.

It was too much. Too much to take in and inspect and assess on what was supposed to be a relaxing Sunday evening. He felt it when his heart started to race, when his breaths became more shallow. 

Robin placed a hand on his arm, instantly soothing him, even in the midst of the biggest crisis of Steve’s life.

“You know Eddie’s gay, right?” she asked, her voice much softer and full of sincerity.

“He – what?” Steve frowned, keeping his eyes on the floor. “No. He’s – no.”

“He clocked me right away,” Robin insisted. “I’m so bad at knowing who’s gay or not, but apparently Eddie is great at it.”

Steve took a moment to think over that, to think what it might mean for his current realisation. He didn’t speak for what felt like forever, words and epiphanies flying around his mind.

“Steve?” Robin broke through his haze softly, concerned eyes boring into him.

“Mhmm?”

“You should talk to him.”

***

Crossposted to AO3 here

I may write a part two...

[scoops-aboy86]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

[morganbritton132]

While Eddie is getting love advice from Hopper, Steve is plotting the demise of two of his friends’ relationship because Robin admitted to having a crush on Nancy.

His eyes keep shifting back and forth from Nancy and Joyce before he turns to Jonathan like, “You ever notice that your girlfriend looks a lot like your mom?”

“She actually looks more like your mom than you do,” Steve adds. “Weird.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie and his bisexual awakening.

Eddie didn't know he also liked men until Steve Harrington landed in his life with that perfect hair, sweet nature, admirable bravery, and divine everything.

It took Eddie being mauled by the bats, almost dying multiple times, and freaking out with Wayne about his not-so-heterosexual thoughts to realize that Steve’s moles and freckles were fucking beautiful.

He knew he had been down bad when he couldn't stop waxing poetries about the guy all day and visiting Family Video whenever he could, which made him the store’s regular much to Robin’s entertainment.

Although she didn't say anything, he was quite sure that she had clocked him as queer by now. He just hoped that she would eventually clue him in about Steve’s interest if he showed enough of his consistency.

“How can I help you?”

Eddie leaned his arm on the counter and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at Robin’s mirthful look, he could feel his cheeks heat up just by being so obvious about it.

Not to mention today marked his two months of hopeless pining.

“Uhm, is Steve here today?” He asked softly.

Instead of answering him, she turned slightly to call over her shoulder.

“Dingus, your boy is here!”

If Eddie wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now.

“What– I’m not–”

“Which ones?” Steve’s voice called back from the inside.

And okay, Eddie knew it was stupid to get jealous over something so random because one, he was only Steve’s friend, and two, he had no claim over Steve except the massive crush he had on the guy.

But he was. Furious and bristled about the fact that he wasn’t the only person besides Robin who monopolized Steve’s free time during boring shifts.

“Who else has visited him lately?” Eddie planted his hands on the counter and narrowed his eyes, not caring that he wasn’t being subtle at all.

“Let’s see,” she tapped her chin contemplatively and started counting by her fingers, “you, obviously. Then Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

That’s it? Eddie blinked owlishly at her, waiting for the punch line. But what came next was—

“Leave the poor guy alone, Robs.”

Steve finally emerged from the back room and hip-checked Robin as he walked over to her side.

“He’s just so easy,” Robin huffed out a laugh.

“Stop spreading lies about me, Buckley,” Eddie gave her a wounded glare that held no real heat while also trying and failing to not stare at Steve standing directly across from him.

“Yeah, stop spreading lies, Birdie,” Steve poked at her bicep with a teasing smile.

And then that smile turned warm, fond, when it was directed at Eddie.

“Sorry about her,” Steve offered lightly, doe eyes peering up at him from under the lashes.

Eddie felt weak in the knees and secretly thanked whatever power above that had granted him a few inches on this pretty boy.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Eddie also smiled and felt his heart thump loudly in his chest as he decided to go with it. “She’s, uh, not wrong about it.”

“Are you admitting that you’re easy now, Munson?” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he reached for Eddie’s hand and started playing with the rings on it as if it had been one of his habits all along.

Which was true and never failed to make Eddie tongue-tied.

“Just for you,” he blurted out. “I’m only easy just for you.”

It would sound ridiculous if not for the way Steve’s cheeks tinted pink despite his effort at trying to stay nonchalant.

“Just for me, huh?”

Strangely, seeing the younger boy also being affected by the tension between them helped Eddie regain some confidence.

He turned his hand so he could grab Steve’s own and brought it to his lips, pressing soft kisses on the scarred knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m all yours,” he met Steve’s gaze with a dopey smile, “Sweetheart.”

A small part of him noticed that Robin had gone to the back room to give them some semblance of privacy. But a larger part of him had been lost in the beaming smile on Steve’s pretty face.

They stared at each other for a while until Steve finally broke the silence.

“Dinner at mine?”

“I’ll bring the beer and,” Eddie picked up the forgotten VHS case of ‘Risky Business’ and waved it lightly, “something to watch.”

That earned him a chuckle in return.

“It's a date?” Steve tilted his head, wanting to confirm again.

“It’s a date,” Eddie grinned and kissed the back of Steve’s hand.

Later that night, Eddie had turned up with a bouquet of flowers and was rewarded with a heated kiss that almost distracted both of them from Steve’s delicious lasagna.

Once they were done with the dishes and mitigated to the couch, he got a lapful of Steve, sweet and pretty and very eager to give him the best time of his life.

In the end, Eddie finally had a taste of that peachy ass and relived many of his wet dreams by turning Steve speechless and delirious with pleasure.

And if he also declared his love over and over again, then he didn't hear Steve complaining.

Maybe, it was because Steve had been busy doing the same.

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

[sparrowtapes]

Steve having a little crush on Bon Jovi is so funny to me because imagine this,

March 1986, Steve for the past two years stared to listen to more alternative music and discovered Bon Jovi and developed a small celebrity crush on him. Whether it was because of his style, hair or something, Steve knew he was attracted to him.

And then spring break comes around the corner and Dustin getting everybody to look for Eddie before the cops can find him. So they go to the boat house and then suddenly Steve is slammed against the wall by no other than Eddie Munson himself, who looks almost exactly like Bon Jovi.

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot

It was only supposed to be a warning shot.

Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.

It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.

Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.

Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…

Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.

He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.

“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”

Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.

There is a fucking hole in his hand.

And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.

He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.

And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.

Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.

Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.

They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.

Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.

Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.

So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.

They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.

Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.

Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.

He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:

Monsters are real.

He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.

He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.

So he does.

Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.

Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.

He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.

So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.

Holy shit, it was working.

Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.

That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.

Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.

The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.

Everything was still.

It was over.

Or was it?

TBC…

Next chapter —>

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: Even though I prefer Steve to be Eddie's bisexual awakening, I'm also a sucker for any kind of bisexual awakening story. I still laugh at myself in a silly way because it was obvious, and I missed my own bisexual signs. Of course, my dad knew. And I love Robin knowing and Steve coming out to her on the floor of the bathroom. This was supposed to be short. 😆

Steve was helping Eddie get settled in his guest bedroom as he needed a place to stay while he healed from his bat bites. Steve had offered up his place considering how much room he had, and he had wanted to help Eddie. Speaking of Eddie. . .he was currently blinking sleepily at Steve with a goofy smile on his face.

"Hi, Stevie," Eddie giggled.

Yeah, he was definitely high on pain meds.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve said with a grin.

"I want to thank you," Eddie laughed.

"It's not a problem. You're one of us now, so you're welcome here anytime," Steve said.

"Not about that," Eddie whined. "I want to thank you for, you know, bringing me back to life with a kiss. I guess that makes you my sweet prince, huh? My Prince Charming."

"First of all, it was CPR. Second of all, I'm no prince," Steve said with scoff, his cheeks turning red.

"Come here so I can tell you thank you, you haven't let me yet," Eddie pouted.

Steve leaned in closer. Eddie booped his nose and giggled. Eddie stared at him with his big brown doe eyes wider than Steve has ever seen them. He looked crazy but for some reason it made him smile.

"I'm waiting," Steve said. "Where's my thank you?"

Eddie grabbed him by the face and pulled him in for a kiss. Steve braced himself by placing his hand on the headboard near Eddie's head. Without thinking, Steve deepened the kiss as though his lips had a mind of his own. Suddenly, Eddie opened his mouth and let Steve slip his tongue inside. That's when Steve realized what he was doing. First of all, Eddie was high. Second of all, he was a fucking guy! Eddie looked at him in amazement.

"Thank you," Eddie whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed.

Steve calmly walked out of the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sleep. He walked downstairs and into the kitchen, where he promptly freaked out. He and Eddie kissed. Not only that. . .they French kissed! His tongue was in Eddie's mouth, and he liked it. He really fucking liked it. Oh, shit. He needed Robin, but that would mean outing Eddie, that is, if Eddie even knew about himself. Okay, maybe he could figure this out himself.

There was no way around it. He definitely liked Eddie and probably has for a while. He thought back to high school when Eddie would give those speeches, and Steve's eyes would automatically follow him. Sometimes, his eyes would look Eddie up and down, following up his legs to the way his jeans hugged him to the belt at his waist. Steve had thought that he was just judging him, being a stereotypical bully. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn't just Eddie he looked at. It was also Tommy. He looked at their lips the same way he looked at girls' lips and looked at the fit of guys' jeans the way he looked at girls. In the back of his mind, he just thought that his eyes wondered restlessly.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open, and Robin came bouncing into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw her.

"Thought I would check on you, see if you need help taking care of the big bad metalhead," Robin said.

"Did you know?!" Steve asked. "Jesus, maybe we are telepathically connected!"

"You know what, you've lost me," Robin said.

"That I'm freaking out!" Steve exclaimed.

"Whatcha freaking about, babe?" Robin asked him.

Steve grabbed her hand and dragged her down to the bathroom that was in the basement. He plopped down on the floor and motioned for her to sit across from him.

"I like both, and I think I've always liked both, but I didn't really think about it, or I didn't want to think about it. I know about it, but I didn't think it applied to me, that it could apply to me. You know?" Steve asked.

"I'm afraid that I don't know. You're going to have to spell it out for me. You like both what?" She asked softly.

"I like girls," Steve said with a pause. "And I like guys."

"First of all, thank you for telling me," Robin said, placing her hands on his shoulder. "And second of all, please don't get mad, but I knew about you."

"You knew?" Steve asked quietly.

"Please," she said with a scoff. "Like I don't know my best friend? Why do you think that I have been casually mentioning that if Bowie was my friend that he would still be my friend no matter what he liked?"

"I honestly thought you were just trying to tell me you were a huge fan of Bowie," Steve said.

Robin cupped his face and squeezed his cheeks. Her eyes were filled with tears of joy.

"My sweet bisexual dingus," Robin said affectionately. "I'm also a big fan of Bowie, but not as big of a fan as I am of my platonic soul mate."

Steve sniffled and hugged Robin tightly.

"Thanks," Steve whispered. "And thank you for not pushing me."

"It was something you had to figure out for yourself, babe," Robin said. "And all I did was gently nudge you in the direction you were already walking towards. You just had to take off the blindfold you put on yourself."

"Thanks, babe."

A few days later, Eddie started to use the pain medication less and less. He finally had a day where he was more lucid, and Steve was sitting beside his bed, fiddling with the thread on the comforter.

"I have to ask, did I do or say anything weird while I was on the meds?" Eddie asked.

Steve looked up, raising an eyebrow, his cheeks turning red.

"Do you want God's honest truth?" Steve asked.

"Nah, I want Satan's honest truth," Eddie said with a grin, and Steve giggled. "That's what I like about you. You laugh at my stupid little jokes. You and Dustin both."

"I like your stupid little jokes," Steve said and took his hand, rubbing circles into his skin. "You thanked me for giving you CPR."

"Huh?" Eddie asked.

"Well, actually, you thanked me for bringing you back to life with a kiss. When you were high on pain meds," Steve said.

"Well, that's not too bad," Eddie said.

"You called me your prince charming," Steve said.

"Oh damn it," Eddie said, rubbing his forehead.

"You also grabbed me and kissed me," Steve said gently.

"What?!" Eddie asked, his eyes. "Shit, man, I'm sorry! I totally get it if you don't want me around, which judging from what I've seen about you, you wouldn't do that, but still, there's this irrational part of me that's afraid that you're going to do it even though I know that you won't. Look, man, I totally would understand if you can't handle being kissed by someone like me, It would make anyone uncomfortable! FUCK! You must hate me now."

"Eddie! I kissed you back!" Steve yelled over him.

"You did what now?" Eddie asked.

"When you kissed me, I kissed you back. We kind of made out, actually, but I pulled back when I remembered that you were high and it wasn't fair. I mean, I would understand it if you didn't want me around because I totally accidentally took advantage of you," Steve said.

"Did you - did you want to kiss me back?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have if I didn't want to kiss you," Steve said. "Do you think that if you hadn't been high that you still would have wanted to kiss me?"

Eddie looked down, realizing that Steve was still holding his hand. He watched as the other man traced patterns into his skin.

"Yeah. I would have still wanted to kiss you, man," Eddie said.

"You know, it made me wake up. . .the kiss," Steve said. "I don't know why it took me so long to realize that I also liked guys or to realize that I totally had a crush on you in high school. When you made your speeches, I was checking you out, and I just thought that I was being super judgemental. I thought I was being an asshole."

"That's why you were staring at me?! I thought you were being an asshole too!" Eddie laughed.

"Shut up, man," Steve laughed.

He started down at their hands, watching as Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s hand. Eddie started rubbing his thumb in circles over Steve’s skin.

"Wanna make out?" Eddie asked.

Steve's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Seems only fair. I kind of need a reminder," Eddie said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Okay."

Steve climbed onto the bed next to Eddie and supported himself on his elbow to hover over Eddie delicately. Eddie grabbed his hips, pulling him close to him so Steve was lying halfway on top of him. Steve looked at him in concern, but Eddie grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Steve relaxed against him, deepening the kiss but still being careful of both of their wounds. They made out for a while until Eddie got tired, and Steve relaxed into the crook of his arm, resting his head on his shoulders. Eddie squeezed his hip.

"You got child bearing hips, you know that?" Eddie muttered sleepily. "S'not fair."

Steve laughed as Eddie nodded off to sleep. Steve closed his eyes, content, and drifted off to sleep. They didn't wake up until the next morning, the light drifting in and enveloping them like a warm blanket. Steve and Eddie blinked sleepily at each other, completely unaware of their surroundings. Steve kissed Eddie's shoulder and then leaned over to place a kiss on his lips.

"Oh my god!"

Eddie and Steve were suddenly more awake when they realized that there were people in the room. Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Max, and El were all staring at them.

"Steve, did you mean to kiss Eddie?" Dustin asked slowly.

"Um. . ."

Suddenly, Robin burst into the room, breathing heavily.

"There you are! You assholes are fast! What are you doing in here?" Robin asked.

"We were waiting for them to wake up," Lucas said.

"Okay, well, that's not creepy at all," Robin said sarcastically. "Get out! Out!"

Robin started screaming and grabbing ears to get them out. Of course, Will and El didn't need any encouragement. They were the first ones out of the room.

"So, that happened," Eddie grinned. "Who knew Robin could be so scary?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about them," Steve said.

"Nah, man, I get it. After everything that's happened, I get how hard it is to have boundaries. You just want to hold onto people so tightly because you're afraid of losing them," Eddie said and paused. "By the way, thanks for letting me and Wayne stay here. When he's not working, he's by my side. He needs a break, though, from worrying about me. I love that man."

"He's been great to have around. You're lucky to have him," Steve said with a smile.

"You know, play your cards right he could be your uncle one day too," Eddie said slyly.

"Slow your roll there, Speedy," Steve laughed. "I haven't even taken you on a date yet."

"You gonna treat me real nice, Stevie?" Eddie asked.

"You bet your sweet little ass I am," Steve smiled, and Eddie kissed him, then tucked his head into his shoulder as he started playing with Steve’s hand.

"So, what are we going to do about the kids?" Eddie asked. "Do we play this off?"

"Well, I trust them with my life. They've proved that, so I think that I would feel comfortable telling them, but this is your relationship too, so it's up to you," Steve said.

"I trust them too," Eddie said softly.

Steve sat up and then helped Eddie sit up.

"Hey, Robin!" Steve yelled.

"You think she's just waiting out in the hall?" Eddie asked.

A second later, Robin popped her head in.

"Yeah?"

"You can let the nosy shits in now," Steve said.

"Hey, nosy shits! Your daddies want to see you!" Robin called.

"Jeeze! Don't call us that!"

"Okay! Hey, nosy shits, your mommies want to see you!"

"Don't call us that either!"

"Okay. Hey, nosy shits, your pseudo older brothers who sometimes act as your parental units want to see you!" Robin yelled. "I'm running out of things to call you."

"How about you just call us by our names, Robin?!" Steve exclaimed.

"Umm. . . .no!"

The kids came brushing past Robin, and she scowled at them as she leaned against the door.

"Just so you know, if you totally meant to kiss Eddie, we just want you to know that we totally support you. I mean, I, for one, think it's cool, and I knew you guys would get along," Dustin started to ramble, and Robin coughed loudly. "Right, we love you both and totally accept you."

"Love is a strong wrong," Max said. "I don't hate you guys, so there's that."

"Really? Who was it in the hospital that said they thought Steve, Eddie, and Robin were some of the coolest people you knew?" Dustin asked.

"I was on pain meds for my broken arm," Max hissed.

"Aw, Red," Eddie said, scrunching up his nose and made cooing noises at her.

"You think I'm cool?" Robin asked.

"You're dead, Roast Beef," Max said to Dustin, her cheeks red.

"Anyway," Dustin said, rolling his eyes. "We thought we would show our support by making breakfast in bed for you guys. Except Mike, he's staying far away from the stove."

"What? Why?" Mike asked.

"El told us you tried to make her waffles from scrap last summer. There wasn't an ounce of yellow on them. If we want ash for breakfast, we'll come to you," Dustin replied.

El giggled, Mike rolled his eyes, and Will struggled to hide his laughter. Robin clapped her hands and ushered them out.

"It's astounding how they can be loving and at the same time, gigantic assholes," Eddie said fondly.

"They're teenagers. Every teenager is an asshole," Steve said just as fondly.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked as he leaned against Steve. "I was a complete saint, still am."

Steve gave him a look, and then Eddie started laughing. At some point, they both nodded off and had been sleeping soundly against each other until they heard a loud yell from the kitchen.

"MIKE, STEP AWAY FROM THE STOVE AND I SWEAR I WON'T SMACK YOU WITH THIS SPATULA! EL, COME GET YOUR BOYFRIEND!" Dustin yelled, and there was a pause. "YOU BROKE UP WITH HIM?! THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION!"

"DUSTIN! THE PANCAKES!" Max shrieked.

"It sounds like things are going well down there," Eddie snickered.

Soon, the door opened, and Robin came in first. She tossed a Polaroid into Steve’s lap.

"Trust me, you're going to need it," Robin said and stepped aside to let them in.

The kids came in, and they were all covered in flower. Steve laughed and took a picture of them. Dustin placed one tray in front of Steve while El placed the other tray in front of Eddie.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie said, rubbing her flour covered head, and she giggled.

Eddie and Steve took a bite at the same time. They both shared a look as they struggled to swallow and hide their look of disgust. Apparently, they did a poor job of hiding it because Robin grabbed the Polaroid and took a picture of their faces.

"What's wrong?" Dustin asked.

"It's just. . .," Steve trailed off.

"Salty," Eddie finished. "Why the hell is it salty?"

"Salty? It's supposed to be sugar!" Dustin exclaimed and turned to Lucas. "Explain!"

"I thought it said salt!" Lucas defended himself.

"You need glasses!" Dustin exclaimed.

Steve laughed as he watched them squabble and turned to Eddie.

"Welcome to the party," Steve grinned, and Eddie laughed, kissing him deeply.

"Thank you."

[stilesgrace159]

Thinking about vampire Eddie using the *dealing drugs in the woods* as a ruse to lure innocent victims into the woods so he could drain their blood and hide their bodies. But poor oblivious Steve goes out into the woods for some weed for Tommy's party and has a very confusing experience and mentally asking lots of questions to himself because he thinks Eddie is coming on to him and he likes it. But it is in fact just Eddie trying to feed. But who's Eddie to deny pretty boy Steve a good time.

[dreamofbecoming]

yeah alright this got away from me. posting in pieces, part one is just stobin, no shippy stuff. steddie and rockie to follow. i'll drop it on ao3 once all 3 parts are done

now on ao3!

platonic stobin

rating: t

wc: 3.5k

---

Robin stopped being surprised by Steve Harrington showing up at her bedroom window months ago. Jesus, there's a sentence her 16 year old self wouldn't fucking believe for a second. The Hair, climbing up the trellis her dad built for the roses her mom planted and then forgot about three months later? Yeah right, as if. But it turns out alternate dimensions and sci-fi movie monsters and Russian conspiracies in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA are all real, so how surprising really is The King himself, collapsing through her window with all the grace of a baby giraffe, out of breath like he- holy shit, did he fucking run here?

"Dingus, did you run here? What the hell?"

"Had to- hang on, Jesus. Holy shit." He bends over, hands on his knees, panting like he just ran a marathon. Which, she guesses, he almost did.

"You have a car, you lunatic, what could possibly be so important?"

"Didn't think about it. Had to get here."

"Is someone dead?!" Oh fuck, Is the Upside Down back? Oh shit, oh no, it can't be back, right? Superhero girl closed the gates! Right?! Oh god, oh no, oh fuck, it's back, the Russians are back, they realized they couldn't let her live after what she's seen, her parents will never even know what happened to her, and they'll kill Dingus too, and dorky little Henderson, and that menace Erica, oh god, they're gonna die, and Hopper's gone and superhero girl is far away and she doesn't have superpowers anymore anyway, which is frankly bogus because what the hell, Robin never even got to hang out with a real live magic person before, which, ok, that's a selfish thought, but that's ok, we can think selfish thoughts and then set them aside and not act on them, thoughts are not actions, thoughts happen all the time without our consent, they don't determine our character-

"Bobs, you're spiraling. Nothing bad happened, I just realized something and I freaked out and I had to talk to you right away. Forgot to call. Sorry, I should have called. Ran straight out of the house. I don't even think my shoes match, what the fuck?"

She's gonna kill him, she really is.

She loves him so much.

"Jesus, you're insane. Sit, you absolute dweeb. I'm getting you some water, when I get back you can tell me what the hell is going on."

He's sitting on her bed when she gets back upstairs, staring at something in his hands. Christ, his hands are shaking. What the fuck, Dingus?

He takes the water and downs it in one go- ugh, sports guys- then flops onto his back and covers his eyes with a miserable groan.

"I know we've got the whole twin telepathy thing going on, bubba, but I'm gonna need at least a little bit to work with here. Give me something. Is it your parents? The kids? Uh, what was her name? From Thursday? Janice?"

"Janine, and no. Ugh. Here." The arm not covering his eyes flops out towards her, holding- ah. A zine. He had promised to drive up to Indy last weekend to the secret bookshop she told him about and get her some new ones, even though she couldn't go with him because her cousin Randy got caught cheating on his fiancée and her parents made her come with the rest of the family to help him move. Fucking Randy. Maybe he should make better choices, so the rest of them wouldn't have to clean up his messes. Jerk.

Anyway.

"Marked the page." Which, yep, there's a purple paper clip stuck to a page near the middle, because Steve knows how much she hates people who dogear books, even books that aren't really books at all, so he's been training himself out of it, because he's sort of the best. Again, 16 year old Robin would have her committed for thinking that, but here we are.

The pamphlet isn't one of the periodicals she sent him for, so he must have picked it up on his own. It looks handmade, just some folded sheets that look like they came out of a typewriter, bound with the kind of twine you can buy at the hardware store. It's called Awakenings. The page he's marked looks like a personal essay, no title, no real signature, just a pair of initials at the end of the page and a half of writing. She starts reading, trying to figure out what the hell spooked Steve so bad.

"I've always been normal. I've always had crushes on men, just like the other girls. There was never a feeling of "I'm different," or "Oh, this is wrong." There was never anything to think very hard about. I'd giggle and blush when the boys looked over at us on the playground, same as everyone else. Later on when I was older I looked at my poster of Harrison Ford, shirtless and hairy and sweating, and I touched myself, and it felt good, just like it was supposed to. I didn't mind thinking of my future husband, and our future kids, and the pretty house with the pretty garden we'd have, just like my parents have, just like they wanted for me. I was normal. Everything was fine.

I thought everything about me was normal. So I didn't understand why the other girls at sleepover parties would giggle and stop and say "Ew, gross!" when we practiced kissing. It felt nice! I wanted to keep going! But it seemed like no one else did. I didn't understand why none of them talked about getting butterflies in their stomach when Laura, who was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, transferred in our senior year, why they seemed so angry at her. Those butterflies were what jealousy felt like, right? So why did the other girls seem to feel so different?

I made my first lesbian friend in college, on the very first day, right across the hall in my dorm. We sat next to each other at Orientation and I thought I'd never have another best friend that wonderful in my whole life, so I'd hold on to her with everything I had. She came out to me the night before Christmas break, hiding under the blankets in my dorm room with the twinkling lights glowing. She was so scared. I held her and told her I loved her no matter what, and she seemed so glad, to have someone to talk to.

When she talked about falling in love with girls, I was so confused. The way she described it sounded like what it felt like to have girlfriends, I was sure. I felt that all the time. I asked her if she was sure she was gay, and she looked so shocked and angry and hurt, and I didn't know how to fix it, so I tried to explain. That what she felt couldn't be liking girls, because I felt that too, and I was normal. I liked boys, so I couldn't be gay. I couldn't be.

I'm glad it was her I said all that to. If someone else had told me about being bisexual, I think I would have hated them. I would have cried, and screamed, and said horrible things. Because I wasn't gay, I was normal, and it was so scary to think that might be a lie. Thank God it was her, my best friend in the world, who I never want to lose. Thank God I listened.

Because I'm not normal. I'm queer. I like men, and I like women. I can love them both the same, but it doesn't matter anymore, because I love her. I love her, and she loves me, and I don't need to be normal anymore."

Robin's face feels wet, which probably means she's crying. She cries a lot, reading these sorts of stories, in the zines she has to keep hidden under her bed, or, these days, at Steve's house. It's never going to be her, she knows. Not here in Hawkins, but it still makes something ache deep inside her, like pressing on a bruise, but in a good way, seeing love happen to other people. People like her. Seeing that it can.

"So?"

Oh shit. Right, Dingus. They're about him right now. Something about this essay in particular freaked him out.

"Uh. It's. A nice essay? I'm glad things worked out for them?"

Stevie lets out a pathetic whine, sort of like back at Scoops when he earned a particularly bad tally on the You Suck board. "Robbiiiiiiieeeee!"

"I'm sorry! I think I'm missing something, what's wrong with this essay? I don't get it, bubba, I'm sorry. I need some context." She does feel bad. Usually she can pluck whatever's bothering him right out of his brain and into the light, where it almost never looks as bad, but she's at a loss right now.

He's got both hands over his face again, and his response is so muffled she can't make out a word.

"Try again in human sounds, please."

"Ugh! I thought everyone felt like that!"

Huh? "Felt like...what, exactly?"

"Like that!" He flails wildly at the pamphlet in her hands. He's sitting up now, hair all askew from tugging at it, and there's a vaguely worrying crazed look in his eye, like right before he tackled that guard. "Like kissing boys and girls both feel nice, and like seeing a handsome guy and feeling jealous of him makes my stomach flutter, and like having friends feels the same as having crushes! I thought that was just how everyone felt all the time!"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Poor Dingus! No wonder he panicked and ran here like a crazy person!

"Stevie, can I hug you? Please?" She's not much for physical touch most of the time, but Steve is, and also she's found in the last few months that she doesn't mind so much when it's him. She sort of understands why other people like hugs so much, if they always feel like hugging Steve feels for her. And she really thinks he needs to be hugged, right now.

He nods miserably. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and holds on as tight as she can, hauling him sideways until he's practically laying down on her. He clutches her back and buries his face in her shoulder. She can feel her neck getting wet with tears, a sensation that would normally make her want to claw off her own skin, but this isn't about her. Dingus needs her.

"It's ok, bubba. I'm so sorry. I know how scary this is. When I first figured out I had a crush on Linda Sanderson I cried so hard I threw up, you know? I get it. It's gonna be ok, I promise. We'll make it ok. We faced down evil Russians and giant meat monsters, what's a little sexuality crisis, huh? We got this! We're the goddamn Wonder Twins!"

He snorts at that, which she's pretty sure leaves snot on her neck, which. Ew. Still. Problems for Later Robin.

"We are not, Will and El are the Wonder Twins."

"Uh, nope, no chance, I barely even met them so therefore I am vetoing their application. Sorry kiddos, better luck next time! Find your own nickname, losers!"

Steve sits back, laughing, and she preens a little at being able to bring him back from the brink so easily. She loves him so much she feels like she's glowing with it, sometimes. It almost makes her wish she was straight, because what girl is she ever going to find who loves her this much? But only almost, because. Well. Girls, amiright? Phew.

"So what now, Stevie? You wanna say it out loud? That helps, sometimes. You wanna not say it out loud? You wanna go to a gay bar and find you a boy? You wanna never think about it again? It's totally your call."

"Say it out loud, huh?"

"Hm. It took me like a month, and then the first time I could only say it sitting in the back of my closet with the bedroom door locked and the closet door closed, and I could only whisper it. Just "I'm a lesbian," to myself, like the world's most ironic little goblin. And I had to throw up again after. But it did feel good, once I rinsed my mouth out, anyway. Cleansing, you know? And it gets easier every time." Steve's eyebrows are raised and he's chuckling again, so that's a win. She's not lying, but it is sort of funny, she supposes. In hindsight, anyway.

"Ok. Ok, I can do that. I think. Yeah, I can do that."

She's so proud of him. He's the bravest person she's ever met, she thinks. "You wanna get in the closet?"

"Isn't the whole point to come out of the closet, Robs?" He's smirking at her. Bastard. She whacks him in the shoulder on principle. He may be having a crisis, but he's still a jackass. Her favorite jackass in the whole world, but still.

"Har har, you're a regular Bob Hope. Alright then, bigshot, let's hear it."

A little of that fear creeps back onto his face, and she wishes she could wipe it off, but that's not how this works. They can't make the scary things less scary. He couldn't make the Russians less terrifying, but he could hold her hand and make her laugh and carry some of that fear with her. She can do that for him now, too.

She grabs his hand, and he clutches back tightly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm...fuck. Ok. Ok, I can do this. I'm...bisexual." The air leaves him in a big whoosh, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, ok, fuck. I'm bisexual. Holy shit, Robbie, I'm bisexual!"

"Hell yeah you are!" She's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. She's so fucking proud of him.

He's laughing again, a little hysterically, and he hugs her tight again, and she holds him back just as close and thinks oh, he's like me. I'm not alone. I have Steve, and he's like me, and he's mine forever and ever.

When they separate, she looks at him seriously.

"So do you, like, want this to be a thing? Because we can totally make it a thing, and like, get me a fake ID and go to a gay bar and do all kinds of wild shit if you want, but we don't have to, you know? If you need to just, like. Digest this, for a while. It's totally up to you, I just know it took me a while to feel ok with it, and I have no idea if it's different for you but I just want to be what you need, you know? You've been so good with me, and I've never had a queer friend before, so I don't know how, but I want to be just as good to you. You're my Dingus and I love you and I don't know how much of a gay guru I can be on account of, you know, I've never met any gay people besides me and the pretty lady at the bookstore but I couldn't even get real human words to come out of my mouth when I tried to talk to her so I don't think that counts, you know? But I still wanna help! Let me help!"

"Bobbie! Bobbie breathe, you're gonna pass out. I don't think I need a gay guru, I just need a gay best friend, and I have that, so I promise I'm good, ok? Promise. Also I love you too.”

She takes a deep breath, following his lead the way they worked out in the horrible days after Starcourt, when she couldn't sleep without him next to her, warm and alive and breathing, and even then she would wake up in the night with her breath coming short and her vision tunneling and Steve would hold her hand against his chest and breathe slowly, in and out, until she could follow him, and the world wasn't so terrible and scary and loud anymore.

She still thinks about that awful hour underground, thinking she was strapped to the corpse of a boy she never let become her friend, but Steve is always there now when she needs him, and he never complains when she grabs his wrist or puts her head on his chest to make absolutely sure that big, stupid heart is still beating.

When she's breathing normally again, he drops their joined hands down between them, toying idly with the chain linking her ring to her bracelet. "I think...I think I'm glad I said it, and I'm glad we talked about it, but can we maybe just...put it away, for a while? Like it's not...ugh. I guess this is kind of shitty to say, so like, hit me if you want, I guess, but I kind of don't think it matters right now?"

"No no, that makes perfect sense! Like, you still like girls, right?" He nods. "And you don't like. Have a crush on any boys right now. Or do you? Oh man if you do you have to tell me though, it's platonic soulmate law. It's in the bylaws, Steve, don't make me soulmate fine you!"

He laughs and shoves her face away. "Jesus, Rob, no! I don't have a crush on any guys, who would I even crush on in this town? We're not exactly swimming in eligible bachelors. I don't have a crush on anybody at all, I'd tell you, I swear. I know the rules!"

"Oh phew, good. You have to tell me when you do, though, I'm way excited to get you back for making fun of Tammy."

"It was the God's honest truth, Bobbie! She sings like a muppet!"

"Oh my god, shut up, Dingus! Ugh! As I was saying, you super duper have to tell me when you do, but for now, I think maybe you don't have to think about it really at all if you don't want. I mean, practically speaking, it's not really relevant to your everyday life, so we can totally revisit when that changes, but you don't have to like. Join a pride parade tomorrow, you know? You are you who are no matter what. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me, not ever."

He leans his head on her shoulder, and she scritches her nails through his hair. It really has no right being as soft as it is, with the amount of hairspray he uses. It's frankly rude, is what it is.

"Thanks, Bobs. I think I'm just gonna put it away for now. It just...another thing to know about me, you know? Like, I'm bad at fighting people but good at fighting monsters, all my best friends are kids except you, I'm bi but it doesn't matter because there aren't any boys to date in Hawkins anyway. Plus my dad would kill me if he found out. Like actually kill me, not "oh geez I missed curfew, my dad's gonna kill me" type kill me, like I think he'd actually try and beat me to death. So there's really no reason to talk about it right now, you know?"

There's a pit of ice in her stomach, and she tightens her arm around him like she can keep him safe just by holding on tight enough. She hates how casually he said that, just like she hates how casually he always talks about how his parents treat him, like he honestly believes it's normal. "Jesus, Dingus. You know you can come here if you need, right? My parents love you, they already think we're getting married. They'd make you sleep in the guest room, but I could sneak you in here easy."

He snorts again. "We're totally gonna end up married for tax reasons anyway, we're never beating the rumors." That makes her snort, too. He's not wrong, though. She isn't going to be allowed to have a wife anytime soon, and if she has to choose someone to be her next of kin, it's always gonna be him. They're planning to move in together when she goes to school next year anyway. No one is ever gonna believe them that they aren't dating, but that's...fine. Honestly, there are worse things. Better to have Steve by her side than not, and if no one else understands them, well, they understand each other, don't they? That's more than enough.

"Yeah, I know I can come here if I need, Robs. It's fine mostly, I swear. They're not home until Christmas anyway."

He takes another deep breath, like he's settling himself. "I'm just glad we talked about it. I feel better now."

She cards her fingers through his hair again, basking in the feeling of her favorite person so close, and so content. "I'm glad, Dingus."

They're alive, and they're together, and they're queer, and neither of them is ever going to have to be alone again.

"Hang on, did you say you've kissed girls and boys?!"

part 2 part 3

[unfinishedslurs]

stobin kidnapped- no upsidedown

Robin doesn’t know why she comes out to Steve Harrington of all people. 

It could be the drugs. It could be the way he’s been pretty good-natured about her ribbing all summer. It could be the fact that they’ve bonded, painfully and irreversibly, in the last 24 hours in a way she never has with anyone else and hopefully never will. It could be that she’s almost certainly going to die in this tiny, awful basement, and Steve fucking Harrington’s shitty homophobic spiel won’t matter because they’ll be dead. 

Tammy Thompson won’t matter, either. She’ll never, ever look at Robin now. Probably won’t even think about her as she cries over Steve Harrington’s tragic fate. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

They’re pressed back to back next to the hole that serves as their toilet, even if they’re not tied together that way anymore. Something about being able to see from all angles is comforting. No surprises. 

It also means she doesn’t have to see Steve’s face when he tells her how amazing this new girl is.

“Robin?” He asks when she doesn’t respond. “You OD on me?”

“I’m alive,” she confirms. Unfortunately. 

Nope, too soon to be making jokes about wishing she were dead when there’s a high possibility she ends up dead before she gets out of here. 

Steve’s presence leaves her back, and she almost panics before she realizes he’s scooting backwards until he can meet her eye. She scoots back until her back hits the wall, and he does the same. 

“This floor’s disgusting.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” he points out. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.” Why are his eyes so big? Is it the drugs in her system making her hallucinate again? Some great, cosmic consequence for being the kind of girl who can’t fall in love with this apparently amazing guy who protected her the best he could? She feels like she’s going to vomit again.

Eventually their singing dies down, and they exist in comfortable silence for a moment. 

It’s Steve who breaks it. “You know Jonathan Byers?”

“Didn’t he punch you and steal your girl?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I lied.”

“About what?”

“Only ever having been in love with Nancy.”

She blinks at him, squinting in concentration until he shifts uncomfortably and she gasps. “No,” she says. 

“‘No’ what?”

“You were not in love with Jonathan Byers.”

“Okay, yeah, I wasn’t in love with him,” he protests, squirming. “But, like, he’s cool, right?”

“No!” She exclaims. “No, he’s not cool, Steve. I can’t believe you made fun of me for Tammy, at least she didn’t give me a concussion!” 

“I deserved that concussion,” he protests. “Besides, it was a tiny one! That was, like, nothing compared to what Billy gave me.” Or the one he probably has right now, but neither of them point that out. 

“He stole your girlfriend.”

“Why do you keep saying that? There was no stealing anything. Nancy’s a human being, with, like, agency and shit.”

“Didn’t he take naked pictures of you guys?”

“What?” He sounds alarmed. “Is that what you heard?”

“Did he not?”

“Well…”

She laughs, disbelieving. 

“He apologized!” He says. “And he’ll never do it again, and I broke his camera for it anyway, so I kind of got retribution. Maybe too much retribution. I cannot overstate how much I deserved that beat down, I was an asshole to him.”

“God, you are not helping your case at all,” she giggles. He pouts at her, until he starts giggling too, and then they’re both laughing their asses off on the shitty basement floor until they lose their breath. 

They get lucky, she’s told while they’re in the hospital for smoke inhalation and a dozen other things. They were only in that basement for 24 hours until the police (re: Dustin and Erica) found them. It felt like a lifetime. 

She gets to sign out after six hours. Steve has to stay for two days. 

The nurses have to practically boot her out the door before she’ll leave his side. 

“I’m fine, Rob,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“I sure hope not!” The nurse exclaims as she’s checking over the monitor. “Young man, you are suffering from a Grade 3 concussion, bruised and broken ribs, smoke inhalation, multiple lacerations—“

“Jesus, okay, we get it!”

She gives him a scathing look before sweeping out of the room. Robin raises her eyebrows. “You’re fine, huh?”

The look he gives her could kill a lesser man. “Go home, Robin.”

“I’m staying the night.”

“You’re definitely not doing that.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

Pinterest

written for 'pin' | word count: 388 | rated: M | ao3 | @steddiemicrofic

The first time Munson pinned him on a wall, it was an accident fueled by misunderstanding and fear.

The second time Munson pinned him on a wall, it was a result of their playful bantering turned heated argument.

The third time Munson pinned him on a wall, Steve tried to convince himself that the fluttering in his stomach was nothing special.

Countless times later, when Munson became Eddie, and Steve was pinned on a wall again, he grimaced at the spark of arousal flared in his guts.

This is dangerous, he told himself.

“I’m not gay,” he confessed to Robin one night. “But Eddie is…”

“Handsome? Pretty? Groundbreakingly beautiful?” Robin supplied helpfully with a mirthful arch of her eyebrow.

Steve gulped. He recalled those moments when Eddie was too close, when their breath mingled, when Steve thought he was going to be devoured by those too-black eyes only for Eddie to release him from a vice-like grip.

His throat started to constrict and felt dry all of a sudden.

“Intense. He’s too intense and I feel like drowning every time I’m near him,” Steve conceded quietly, half scared and half hopeful about what might happen between him and Eddie the next time they were left alone together.

Robin looked at him for a moment that stretched far too long for his comfort before patting his shoulder gently.

Although she shared no words, strangely, her action was enough to convey her condolences for the death of his heterosexuality.

The realization that he wasn't just attracted to Eddie physically came to him in the form of a song.

Sitting in a chair by the study table, Eddie held his beloved guitar and looked at Steve with something that might be akin to adoration.

“You wrote this for me?” Steve wondered in awe after the song finished.

“Yeah,” Eddie set his guitar aside and cleared his throat slightly. “You don't need to like it, this is just an experiment and–”

“I do like it,” Steve felt his face heated at the sight of Eddie’s blooming smile.

Their eyes met and Steve knew his heart was gone forever.

Later, when Eddie pinned him down on his bed, Steve looked up smugly.

“So you've been down bad for me, huh?”

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly and shut him up with a perfect kiss.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

"And that's how I met your dad"

[steddieunderdogfics]

they told me all of my cages were mental (so I got wasted like all my potential) by captainboomeraangs

@stevestark

Rating: General

13,011 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Bisexual Crisis, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, slow-ish build

Summary:

"He’s done fighting it. Eddie Munson crawled under his skin back during his freshman year, and never really clawed his way back out." A series of events dating from pre-season 1 through season 4. Eddie and Steve keep crossing paths and...it doesn't always end well.

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