#stevesbipanic

[stevesbipanic]

This is what Steddiemas has felt like so thank you @steddieasitgoes for organising it.

[nostalgicbones]

Theme: 80s Vibes (not necessarily from the 80s but still giving those vibes)

Mood: Dancing around your house at 2am

Name: (dealer's choice)

title: the edge of the sun

you don’t have to be old to be wise — judas priest

the river — daisy jones & the six

i wish you would — taylor swift

are you gonna be my girl — jet

neon knights — black sabbath

send me a playlist theme/mood/name and i’ll make you a mini playlist exclusively with the songs from my wrapped ✨

[steveshairychest]

"Do you think you'd love me in every universe?"

The question is whispered into the dark against Steve's neck. The hand wrapped around Steve's waist holds him tighter, and lips brush against his neck as another question is whispered sleepily.

"Do you think there's another Steve and Eddie out there right now in some other universe that are just as in love as we are?"

Steve hums and pulls Eddie closer, his hand tracing mindless patterns on Eddie's back as he thinks, not that he has to. He knows that every version of himself would struggle not to fall for Eddie. He knows that there's a million other Steve's out there also hopelessly in love with a nerdy metalhead.

"I think so. I hope every version of me gets to fall in love with you." He presses a kiss to the top of Eddie's head and feels his boyfriend smile against his neck, a happy sigh slips from his lips as he tries to move even closer to Steve even though they are practically moulded together.

"I'm glad I found you in this universe." Eddie's voice is soft and only just heard over the loud tick of Steve's ceiling fan. He hopes that in another universe, his fan isn't so obnoxiously loud.

"I'd find you in every universe." Is the last thing Steve says before he's lulled to sleep by Eddie's steady breathing and the tick of the fan.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🧠🪱

Happy hump day, let's unleash those brainworms!

Recent high school graduate Steve, freshly disowned, moving into his first very own apartment. The place is dark and smells funny, the wallpaper is peeling off in places, and the property management firm has a shitty reputation, but beggars can’t be choosers. Anything’s preferable to sticking his feet under his dad’s stupid mahogany table and listening to his bigoted bullshit for another day, right? 

After a long and tiresome moving day involving a broken elevator and lugging all of his boxes up three flights of stairs, Steve has just hit the shower to wash off the sweat when a pipe bursts, cutting off his hot water supply and flooding his ugly, puke-colored floor tiles. Cursing, naked and soapy-haired, Steve slips his way over to the telephone to call the landlord's office. A bored-sounding lady tells him that they’ll send someone over, then hangs up without waiting for a reply. 

Steve has barely even slipped a pair of boxers over his wet ass when the doorbell rings. He opens, only find himself face to face with a long-haired, tattooed guy about his own age. He's clad in a tank top and overalls, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding a burning cigarette in the other. 

“Hi,” says the guy, dark eyes raking up and down Steve's bare chest. ‘I'm here about the leaky pipe?” 

“Oh,” Steve says, surprised, because damn, that's a swift response time. “Sure, come on in.” 

The guy does, shuffling into the apartment and on to the bathroom without waiting for directions. Steve is left loitering uncertainly in his own hallway. He doesn't need to loiter long, fortunately, because not five minutes later, the guy shuffles back out, drying his hands on one of Steve’s towels, cigarette now dangling from the corner of his mouth. 

“There you go,” he grins, tossing the towel at Steve. “Enjoy your shower.” 

“Thanks,” says Steve, patting his back pocket for his wallet until he remembers that, one, he's not wearing pants, and two, he spent the last of his cash on a vending machine drink earlier because he was fucking parched from carrying all those boxes. “Erm, I'd tip you, but-” 

“Nah, leave it,” says the guy, and wiggles his eyebrows. “The view is more than enough for compensation.” 

Several hours later, Steve is just on his way to bed, the door rings again. It's a grumpy older dude who says he's come to fix the shower. 

“No, it's okay,” Steve says. “Your colleague was here earlier and took care of it.” 

The man laughs. “Colleague? Ha, I wish. There's just me, why d’you think it took me so long?” 

He trudges off, grumbling something under his breath about wasted time, leaving behind a dumbstruck Steve. 

If that was the repair guy … who fixed his shower?

(His name is Eddie. He's a mechanic and lives in the apartment under Steve’s. He's well familiar with the leaky pipes, and when he saw the water running down from his own bathroom ceiling, he immediately knew what the problem was. He also now knows what Steve looks like half naked. They're off to a great start.) 

Tagging some friends to share their own:

@postmodernau @steddie-island @sparkle-fiend @sidekick-hero @slippy-slip

@xgumiho @stevesbipanic @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @pearynice @thefreakandthehair

[runninriot]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

thank you @just-my-latest-hyperfixation for the tag! 🖤

today's brain worms are brought to you by one of the steddie smutty september prompts 😏

i'm thinking about Eddie who lost a bet to his boyfriend and is now getting ready to pay up. Or at least he's trying to. Because he's still not sure he can really pull it off.

He keeps turning from left to right, sceptically looking at his reflection in the mirror.

God, he looks ridiculous, doesn't he. This stuff isn't made for him. It's for people with less boney asses. People with more meat on them and with defined muscles they can show off. Pretty people, whose perfect bodies would shine covered in black lace.

Eddie just looks... wrong. Like he's trying to be something he's not.

The dainty floral pattern is a harsh contrast to the crooked lines adorning his skin - too soft, too delicate, enhancing all his little flaws and blemishes rather than fulfilling the purpose of making him feel good. That's why people usually choose to wear these things, right? To feel hot and pretty and confident.

Well. He definitely doesn't.

At least Steve will get a good laugh out if it. That's probably why he thought of the punishment in the first place. Not necessarily to make fun of Eddie, he's not that mean. But- whatever.

A bet is a bet, and he lost, so he'll suck it up and get it over with.

He's got a one-man-crowd waiting for him in the bedroom and the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner Eddie can get out of this fucking lingerie.

Meanwhile, Steve's buzzing with anticipation. He's been sitting on the bed for what feels like hours, waiting for Eddie to finally come out of the bathroom.

He's been dreaming about this forever, literally. It's a secret fantasy he's had ever since Eddie and him started dating, since they started exploring each other's bodies in the most intimate ways.

To see Eddie's perfect body covered in lacy lingerie, to let his fingers dance over the soft fabric, gently caressing what's underneath, mouthing at his cock through his panties just to tease, just rile him up - God, what a vision. What a thought. And soon, so soon, it'll become reality.

Steve's hard just from imagining it. Can barely keep his hands to himself at the dirty thoughts looping in his mind.

He needs to see it. Needs Eddie to come out right now or he'll combust.

And then, finally, Eddie does. Slowly opens the bedroom door before he hesitantly steps in. And he's even more beautiful than Steve could ever have imagined.

Standing there, all shy and pretty, with his cheeks tinted pink and his arms crossed before his chest, looking so... so perfect.

   "Fuck," is all Steve can get out. Too stunned, too lost in the vision his boyfriend is.

    "It's okay, Steve. You can laugh. I know I look stupid."

Suddenly, Steve notices that what he thought was Eddie just being a bit shy is actually him being uncomfortable. That the way he tries to hide his body behind his own arms is not him acting coy, it's him being ashamed.

    Oh, hell no.

That just won't do. That's not at all what Steve had intended.

Luckily, he knows just how to turn this around.

(i'll stop right here before it gets even more out of hand 😅 to be continued)

no pressure, all love @novemberthorne @morningberriesao3 @pennyplainknits @steddieas-shegoes @matchingbatbites

@ataliagold @wynnyfryd @queenie-ofthe-void @stevesbipanic @steddiecameraroll

[hotluncheddie]

little addition to this 🥞

it’s routine, every week, steve and robin go out. they get a little drunk, they dress up, and they dance. steve forgets all about work, about the past, about his dead love life. forgets it all and has fun with his best friend.

and it’s routine, every week, to go get the best pancakes the midwest has to offer. at denny’s. at 3am.

he gets the same thing every time and sits at the same booth, with robin. in their now sweaty club clothes, still tipsy and giggly and winding down from the heady buzz of the music and lights. they go to denny’s and steve is always starving, has been waiting, secretly thinking about it all night. can’t help closing his eyes around the first sweet mouthful.

he hadn’t wanted to go the first time, his feet hurt and he wanted his bed. but robin insisted and steve could never really say no to her. and that’s when he saw him, part of the reason he goes back every week and sits at the same booth. the denny’s line cook. the most beautiful guy steve’s ever seen. the very guy who makes the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am.

who steve can’t get up the nerve to talk too.

he’s just, scared. especially because he’s always a little drunk, worries that the guy won’t take him as genuine, won’t believe him that it’s been months and he’s all he can think about. that he sits at that booth because it gives him a view for the pass window, gets to see his hands slide the plates up and pull the tickets down and he has long fingers and lithe forearms and the biggest, prettiest brown eyes.

so sunday morning always comes and steve’s sober again, but he just can’t make himself go back.

he doesn’t even know his name.

but he want to. wants to know what he looks like not in work clothes, what he does in his spare time. wants to know if he’d still like steve in his work clothes, instead of shorts that are cut so high he’s almost showing cheek, or shirts that show the softness hes accepted at his stomach. if he even likes any of that at all, could ever like it. could like steve.

but then robin has to go visit her parents for the weekend. and without her there, there’s no club, no drinks, no dancing under the lights. it’s just steve, in their little apartment, thinking about work and the past and his none existent love life.

and the little pep talk robin gave before leaving floats through his mind. telling him he could try, if he wants, she believes in him, and hes a catch, she would know, she knows him best.

so when sleep won’t take him steve sees it as a sign. he switches his sweats for jeans but keeps the hoodie he’s in, wants to be comfortable, and he goes to get the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. like every saturday night. but he’s sober. nervous but he needs to go. needs to be brave.

needs to find out how the pretties line cook makes the best pancakes around.

needs to know his name.

<3

final

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @stevesbipanic @spectrum-spectre @scoops-aboy86

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🪱🧠

thank you for the tag @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @stevesbipanic @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @wheneverfeasible and of course, anyone who wants to throw their brain worms at me ✨

thinking about modern au metal-burlesque performer eddie and audience participant steve (who was dragged along by robin probably, at her insistence that he would definitely enjoy it).

eddie is the last performer of the night, and so far steve has definitely enjoyed the show. robin makes them sit at the table front and centre, so the dancers have interacted with them a little, waving feathered fans in their faces, tossing clothing garments at them, little touches and grazes as the performers step down from the stage to wander the audience. while it’s not really steve’s thing, it’s been a bit of fun.

then. eddie walks onto a pitch black stage. a red spotlight shines on him as a dark, heavy beat begins. eddie turns as the vocals start (music very much that filthy horny metal kind), and he looks nothing like the previous performers. he’s all tattoos and piercings and wild hair and ripped jeans and leather jacket.

steve is immediately starstruck. the whole audience is transfixed. eddie is one of those performers that does next to nothing and the audience just fucking eats it up.

letting his jacket hit the ground, he walks the stage, looking for his victim of the evening. he spots steve, in his glasses and pale sweater and soft swoopy hair and eddie zeroes in on him immediately. steve gets pulled up on stage and guided to a chair, where eddie (after confirming it’s okay) runs his leather gloved hands up steve’s arms and across his shoulders and down his chest from behind.

as the performance continues, steve is close to short circuiting, unsure how and when he became so revved up over another man teasing to take off what looks to be a band tee cut into a loose tank top, but here he is.

at one part, eddie kneels in front of steve, spreading his legs apart and head rolling towards steve’s crotch (an absolute classic) and steve speedruns his sexuality crisis right then and there because he’s gonna need this hot tattooed man on his knees in front of him forever.

eddie teases taking off his leather gloves, shoving his fingers from his other hand into the opening in a way that is so lewd. with one glove off, he brings the other to steve’s mouth and commands him to bite it.

holding the finger tip of the glove in his teeth, steve is helpless watching as eddie playfully pulls at it, like it’s hard to get the glove off, like having it removed this way is turning him on. he’s touching himself up and down his chest and panting, before finally letting his hand free of the glove.

steve quickly shoves the glove in his pocket as eddie moves to sit in his lap, rolling his back against steve’s chest, running his hands up his chest as he finally removes his shirt, only to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. eddie guides steve’s hands to his chest—steve feeling the nipple piercings hidden beneath—and lets steve unclasp the bra from the front.

the show is over way too soon, with eddie tossing the bra into the crowd. eddie brings steve up to bow, the audience going absolutely crazy for them. guiding steve back down off the stage, eddie gives him a cheeky smile and a wink before disappearing offstage.

robin is losing her whole mind over all of it, and steve is kinda sad that he won’t get to see eddie again. but robin points out that he just might get to.

because steve still has the leather glove in his pocket.

[fuctacles]

@stevesbipanic you can be greedy in this house, don't worry 💚 here's a 500 of CCLS as well

<<😺😺😺 || 😺😺😺😺😺>>

There's no reason for someone living alone to change that for someone younger than them, a music and fantasy nerd with nothing to offer. 

Unless she's into casual...

He vows to himself to never think about it again. To not even consider his nice neighbor in such light. She's gorgeous and nice but he's not in her age range.

His uncle, of course, makes him break this vow as soon as the door slams shut behind him. He goes back to his coffee, putting Steph's empty mug in the sink, while Wayne sips on his sugary black nightmare, observing him.

"Are you interested in Stephanie?"

Eddie gulps down the mouthful of coffee before it can come back out. His throat constricts painfully and he coughs. 

"Straight to the point, huh?" He glares at his uncle, who shrugs his shoulders innocently. Eddie huffs. "I mean, she's pretty, I have eyes. But I'm too young for her anyway."

"It's maybe ten years difference." Wayne waves his hand. "It's not that much."

"Well..."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

"You're both adults, don't give me that shit."

"Maybe don't set me up with all the single hot ladies in the building?" Eddie asks dryly, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, you want all the numbers? I can make that happen."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back. Wayne smiles wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"I'm going to my room," he grumbles, standing up. He refills his mug before leaving the kitchen. "Don't break your other leg in the meantime," he adds on his way out. 

"It's not broken!" Wayne protests, but Eddie ignores him. He has a steampunk pirate novel to dive into and forget about mundane shit. Like Stephanie's big brown eyes and beauty marks on her cheek.

The cats are way worse to deal with without their owner. He can't find a single one of them until he crinkles the food satchels and suddenly he's nearly trampled over by the starved creatures.

"Jesus, it's like you haven't eaten in a week," he mutters, pushing Garfield away for the fifth time so he can actually put the food in his bowl. "Give me a fucking second man, stop it."

It's an uneven fight of shielding the bowls from them and he's surprisingly exhausted when he finally stops to watch them munch on their food. He sighs, wandering away from the little cat nook in the corner between the kitchen and the living room, and settles on the couch. He bounces lightly on the cushions. It's either new or on the more expensive side because it's soft and bouncy. A perfect place to take an afternoon nap. Wayne's couch is old and gives him neck cramps whenever he falls asleep on it. He wonders if it would be overstepping if he just laid there and turned the TV on. He'd still technically be supervising the cats.

If it was someone he didn't care about, he wouldn't hesitate, but he wants to be on Stephanie's good side.

[thefreakandthehair]

Spicy Six -Ber Month Fanworks Challenge

It's that time again! I'm so excited to host the Third Annual Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge, with a twist this year! Rather than winter-specific prompts, we have a mix of both fall and winter prompts. With all of the fun October events happening, this felt like the best way to capture both seasons. The past couple of years hosting the seasonal challenges has been such a blast, and I can't wait to see what people come up with this time around!

Here are the rules: 

It's a Spicy Six challenge so of course, you must include someone from the Spicy Six (Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, Steve, Argyle). Don't feel pressured to include everyone, of course. You can be ship-specific or general. Chrissy is also included! (I know that makes seven– I just don't want to change the title, honestly.)

There are two links below, one for dialogue prompts and one for more general prompts. There will be a claims process, but I've decided to make it easier for everyone (myself included) and will not be limiting how many people can claim the same prompt this year. In years past, it's led to a lot of back and forth trying to choose second options, third options, etc. and there's more than enough creativity in this fandom for people to make vastly different interpretations of the same prompt!

To claim a prompt, simply shoot me a DM with which prompt you'd like from what list (i.e.: prompt 6 from dialogue prompts'). Since I'm not limiting prompts, don't worry if I don't get right back to you!

One prompt per person. You're welcome to use as many as you like, but you can only claim one.

No restrictions for fanart, and no word count minimum or maximum for fics. Long fics, ficlets, drabbles, all are welcome.

Posting will run from November 15th through December 31st. Additional posting details here!

When you post, please use the tag spicysixbermonthchallenge and tag me so I can see and reblog it!

Please feel free to reblog to spread and signal boost.

Dialogue Prompts Here Inspiration Prompts Here

tagging some peeps who've been along for the ride before/expressed interest & some writing/art pals (this is open to everyone!! not just those tagged!): @starrystevie @hexiewrites @stevespookington @withacapitalp @maxinemaxmayfield

@maxineholtzmann @stevethehairington @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @formosusiniquis @sourw0lfs

@steddieas-shegoes @steddieasitgoes @judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @thisapplepielife

@werepuppy-steve @medusapelagia @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @starthecozy @sidekick-hero

@shares-a-vest @steddie-island @acasualcrossfade @hbyrde36 @ao3usermelancholyhues

@cuips-not-cute @arelliann @stervrucht @griefabyss69 @kaspurrcat

@sparkle-fiend @ahhrenata @nostalgicbones @henderdads @undreaming-fanfiction

@riality-check @wynnyfryd @aidaronan @stevesbipanic @hereforanepilogue

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.4k | tags: college au, meet-cute thank to a fire alarm | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold by @stevesbipanic | AO3)

Everyone had told Steve that college would be so much fun. Freedom from the crushing expectations of his parents breathing down his neck. Parties every weekend and a huge dating pool to choose from. An open-minded and progressive culture that made exploring his sexuality easy and fun instead of kind of suicidal like it had been in his small-minded hometown in Bumfuck Indiana.

What no one had told him was that telling his father that he didn't want to go to business school, that he wanted to teach, would result in his father refusing to pay Steve's tuition.

They didn't disown him, but his parents made it clear that they thought his time in college was a waste of time. At least as long as he was studying something his parents considered beneath a Harrington. To them, becoming a teacher basically meant becoming someone else's doormat just because he wanted to teach their kids.

So he was on his own financially, which frankly took a lot of the fun out of college. Suddenly, partying and dating had to take a back seat to the fact that paying for rent, food, and tuition meant limiting his college experience.

It meant working before or after class.

It meant working his ass off for his classes so he could graduate as soon as possible.

It meant living in the dorms instead of his own place.

Which is exactly what led to him standing outside in the middle of the night in the freezing cold of October in just his boxers and hoodie because some asshole set off the fire alarm in their building.

Steve shivered as he huddled with his fellow freezing students in the dimly lit courtyard, glancing around to see if anyone had brought extra clothes. The chilly wind cut through him, and he cursed his luck for not grabbing a coat when the fire alarm blared through the dorm. He was glad that he had his hoodie right next to his bed so grabbing it on his way out of bed was almost second nature. His sleep-shirt, even thinner and softer from constant wear, was not much in the face of the chilly October weather in Chicago.

As the students exchanged disgruntled glances and whispered complaints, Steve noticed a figure huddled alone on a bench, looking particularly uncomfortable in the cold. Squinting through the dim light, he recognized the boy who lived two doors down from him — Eddie.

All in all, they had exchanged a handful of words, for while Steve was a morning person, often up before the sun to go running, Eddie was a night person by choice. Their paths most often crossed in the wee hours of the morning, one's day beginning as the other's was ending. If Steve were telling the whole truth, he would have to admit that he had tried to time his morning runs to make it more likely that he would run into Eddie.

The guy was cute, sue him. Dimples, big chocolate brown doe eyes, dark curls often tamed into a messy bun at the back of his head so that his tantalizing collarbones peeked out from under the collar of his too-big shirts. It drove Steve a little crazy, but so far he hadn't done anything about it.

Maybe this was his chance to fix that.

Despite the biting cold, Eddie offered a shy smile as Steve approached. "Hey, Steve, right? I'd say it was good to see you, but to be honest, I like it better when I run into you in the hallway."

"Yeah, that's me," Steve replied with a small chuckle, trying to shake off the cold. "Mind if I sit here? It's freezing."

"Go ahead," Eddie said, making room on the bench.

Steve sat down and soon they were huddled together for warmth. It was surprisingly nice, even if he still wished he was somewhere warmer. In the midst of the chilly chaos that had become this random Wednesday night, Steve couldn't help but feel a strange connection forming between him and Eddie as they both sat on that lone bench watching a fire truck arrive. There was a sense of camaraderie that hadn't been present in their earlier nods and small talk in the hallway because of the shared discomfort of their current situation.

Maybe this whole ordeal could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

They started talking, finding common ground in the shared annoyance of the fire alarm and the absurdity of being forced out into the cold in the middle of the night. As they chatted, Steve couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk to Eddie.

"You look even colder than I do," Steve remarked after a while, having noticed that Eddie's wiry frame was shaking more and more.

"I didn't have time to grab anything. I was just about to crash when the alarm went off," Eddie explained, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Without a second thought, Steve unzipped his hoodie and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders. "Here, it's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Eddie's eyes widened in surprise and a warmth flooded Steve's chest as he watched the boy pull the hoodie tighter around him. "Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it. But now you don't have anything. That shirt looks good on you, but not really warm."

It's true, Steve can already feel the goosebumps on his skin, but he's not ashamed to use that as an excuse to huddle even closer to Eddie. "It's okay, really. I’m running a little hot anyway. Besides, you could help keep me warm?" He added slyly, giving Eddie a long look from under his lashes and enjoying the adorable blush that rose to his cheeks.

"It would be my pleasure, my knight in shining armor. Or rather, my knight in a Queen shirt." With that, Eddie opened the hoodie and gestured for Steve to lean in. Having hoped for such a reaction, Steve scooted even closer, wrapped his arms around Eddie's middle and let him drape the hoodie around them both.

As they sat there, sharing the hoodie and enduring the cold together, Steve found himself drawn to Eddie in a way he hadn't expected. While he'd found Eddie cute from the start, it was only now that he felt this almost magnetic pull toward the other boy, and their laughter amidst the chaos of the fire alarm only strengthened that feeling. Half an hour ago Steve had been ready to call this the worst night of his college experience and now he felt warm and safe, something settling inside him that he hadn't even realized was out of place.

Steve was in the middle of telling Eddie a story about the gaggle of kids he was babysitting at home and how they were coming to visit him soon. Just as he was telling him about his hunt for one of those weird dice sets with too many sides for the nerd game the kids were playing, they were surprised by the sudden sound of silence that filled the air.

The absence of the blaring fire alarm signaled the all-clear to return to their rooms.

As the crowd in front of them began to disperse, Eddie reluctantly started to remove the hoodie from around them, clearly wanting to give it back. Steve stopped him, though, enjoying the sight of Eddie in his hoodie far too much.

He realized he didn't want Eddie to give the hoodie back. He didn't want this night to end here and go back to his room, to his bed, alone.

"You know, I've got a coffee maker in my room. Want to warm up with a cup?" He suggested suddenly, trying to make his voice and eyes as inviting as possible as he looked hopefully at Eddie.

Eddie hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Steve's cautiously. But something in Steve's eyes must have told him what he was looking for, making him throw caution to the wind. "Sure, why not?"

Smiling broadly, Steve grabbed Eddie's hand and started walking toward their building. He had the feeling that he should be reeling more from the whiplash he had gotten that night, but all he could feel was the joy of anticipation.

They walked back inside, leaving the cold behind, and as Steve sipped a cup of warm coffee, he realized that sometimes unexpected circumstances can lead to the most beautiful connections. Little did he know that the accidental fire alarm would be the spark that ignited a flame of love in his heart that would burn hot and bright for decades to come.

It didn't even dim when, on their wedding day, Eddie confessed during their vows that he was the one who set off the fire alarm by falling asleep with a pizza in the oven.

[stevesbipanic]

i understand why you have it but having a bi pride icon as a straight "ally" is not very appropriate... especially considering your url riffs on, even if this was not your intention, the homophobic "gay panic" defence that is still being used to this day (including in australia), and you can easily google the actual meaning of (it is not just being flustered because you're gay/having a gay crisis). some parts of internet seems to have rebranded it to mean something it's not, which is unfortunate!

i again know this isn't your intention, and this is not an attack or even a critique, but this is how it's coming off and seeing as you pride yourself in being an ally and "safe space" i would try and take both these things into consideration and at the very least change your icon.

Ok so I couldn't find the right words to respond to this and after talking with some of my mutuals, I think it's best to put it up to the opinion of you guys, what're your thoughts, lemme know.

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[morganski-19]

The One with the Cold

Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.

“Robs, I’m dying.”

“You just have a cold, calm down.”

“Then why am I dying.” He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.

She crosses her arms. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I know.”

“Like seriously, I’m surprised you don’t get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.”

“I have a strong immune system.”

Robin glares at him.

“Normally. I normally have a strong immune system.”

Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. He’s slightly warm. “On a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?”

“Just regular dying.”

She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.

“Just a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?”

“Tea would be nice,” Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.

Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasn’t sick, she’d let him hear it. It’s a bad habit of his. She lets him know that she’s running across the hall to see if they have any.

Nancy’s door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.

“Yours too?” Robin groans.

Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. “Well, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?”

“What do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, we’re out.”

Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. “We should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.”

“Wow, they were really made for each other,” Robin jokes. “If only they would do something about it.”

Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. “Maybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddie’s claiming he’s dead.”

Robin huffs. “That’s worse than Steve. He’s just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we don’t have any.”

“Probably.” Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. “Here. I just hope I don’t get sick because of this. I can’t miss work this week.”

“I mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. You’ll be fine.”

Nancy knocks three times on the table. “Just in case.”

Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. “Guess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But he’s either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. He’s claiming he’s dead. Nancy’s busy cleaning so she doesn’t get sick either.”

She’s cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He won’t be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.

It’s a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he can’t breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.

“Thank you,” he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.

“I just made that, dingus, it’s going to be hot.”

He shoots her a half-baked glare. “Can’t you save the insults for when I don’t feel like shit.”

Robin smiles. “Nope.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Happily ever after

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, November 2024 edition

Prompt: guard, 532 words

Rated: T

Tags: POV Chrissy Cunningham; Fantasy AU; Magic AU; Domestic fluff; Married Steddie, Chrissy has a crush on Robin

Notes: More from this universe

The light behind the stained glass windows of the tavern beckons Chrissy closer as she locks up her flower shop - colorful patterns mingling with the painted blossoms on the walls.

“It's for Steve,” Robin told her, back when they first met. “He needs lots of color and noise.”

She never explained, and Chrissy never asked, but she's seen how Steve smiles when she brings the leftover flowers by.

Voices and the scent of food engulf her as she opens the door. The inside is as vibrant as the outside, every wall sporting colorful paintings and tapestries. Robin is nowhere to be seen, but Eddie is lounging by the fireplace, regaling the neighborhood kids with a story. Chrissy sets her flowers down and pulls out a chair to listen.

“What happened then?” Lucas is just asking.

Eddie tilts his head.

“After the thief rescued the guard from the sky vault,” Dustin says impatiently. “Did they get revenge?”

“Nah,” Eddie laughs. “They ran away like the thief promised. They settled in a country far away, where nobody knew about magic, and started a new life. The thief found a house for them and their loved ones, and they filled it with life and color and laughter. And they lived happily ever- what, Michael?”

Mike scowls. “That's a lame ending. What about the thief's magic? He should get it back and find the guard's family and- ouch!”

Max smiles sweetly and lowers her hand. “I think it's a very romantic ending.”

Beside her, El nods. “What about the thief's other promise? That he'd never stop kissing him.”

“He didn't,” Eddie declares proudly. “The thief loved nothing more than kissing his beloved. Sometimes, he'd kiss him for hours on end, in all the places he could reach, until he'd beg-”

“I don't think they need to hear that,” says someone behind Chrissy.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie exclaims, flying out of his chair to sweep Steve into an embrace. “Finally. My heart's been longing for you all night.”

“I was just in the kitchen, you big drama queen,” Steve grouses, but doesn't fight when Eddie pulls him in for a long, noisy smack on the lips. “Sorry, Chrissy. Robin will be here any minute.”

Chrissy waves him off. “Don't worry. Your husband is an excellent entertainer.”

“I see that,” Steve says, turning to the kids. “Shouldn't you be home? It's way after dark.”

They start to protest, but Eddie cuts them off.

“Nuh-uh, you little pests, off you go. Story's over, and I have a beautiful man to kiss.”

They shriek in disgust, and Eddie cackles as he ushers them out the door, hand never letting go of Steve’s.

“Ugh, they're such saps,” Robin mutters, walking out of the kitchen with a bowl of hot stew. Their fingers brush as she shoves it towards Chrissy.

She shrugs, watching how Eddie whispers something into Steve’s ear, making him blush. “I think they're cute. You can see that they've been through a lot together.”

Robin smiles. “You're right about that.”

One day, Chrissy thinks, she's going to ask about that particular story. For now, the old house is full of noise and color, and that's all she needs to know.

Tag list:

@sourw0lfs @bananahoneycomb @firefly-party @whoneedscanon @steddie-island

@sidekick-hero @theheadlessphilosopher @extra-transitional @penny00dreadful @medusapelagia

@mugloversonly @0happyeverafter0 @stevesbipanic @acingthecounts @sweetheartprincess28

@starryeyedjanai @sailing-through-hawkins @original-cypher @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 4!!!!

Tag List: @cam-cat-writer @irregular-child @grimmfitzz @fantrash @bookworm0690 @fiddledeedee85 @hunterbow04 @strangeforest @just-a-tiny-void @jaimeweasley13 @thelittleclare @rebellatio-03 @sirsnacksalot @geekyfifi @sapphireoceansoc @salty-h0e @mentallyundone @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @moomkin77 @nextflixisacopingstrategymom @jaytriesstuff @finntheehumaneater @jackiemonroe5512 @goodolefashionedloverboi @hellfirebaby-86 @blackpanzy @blu3stars @strawberryyyenthusiast @lololol-1234 @thestarslittleking @silenzioperso @forest-fogg @bebopbabyy @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesbipanic @dauntlessdiva @live0rdive @y4r3luv @jonesn4coffee @sofadofax @sensationalsunburst @scarlet-malfoy @l393ndjean @asspirin-s @fandomz-brainrot @mugloversonly @virginlemontea @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @atemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @myownworstenemyyy

AAHHHH IM SO SORRY FOR ANYONE WHO WASN’T ABLE TO BE TAGGED!! The list is unfortunately officially full, I’m so sorry :( everyone who has been tagged here will be tagged in all future parts!!! (I’m also terribly sorry, some of them won’t tag properly).

Without further ado:

.

Monday nights were now spent with Noah, Casey, and Miss. Bottomette (“Just Margaret is fine, dear”).

They’d come over to Steve’s trailer or he and Louie would go over to theirs and they’d gather around the tables to have dinner and talk.

Steve’s never had a dinner with others where he wasn’t expected to act a certain way. Where he wasn’t expected to be mature and serious.

With Miss. Bottomette and the kids, he goofs off and isn’t reprimanded for it. He puts his elbows on the table while talking to Noah and isn’t slapped upside the head for it.

It’s a very welcomed change.

It’s on one of these Monday nights that Steve officially gets his new babysitter.

He’d had to call off on the dinner. It was last minute and unexpected but they’d all been incredibly understanding and Steve appreciated the hell out of it. He was pulling his shoes on while on the phone with Miss. Bottomette when he’d let it slip.

“I’m so sorry again, Miss. Bottomette. I know this is really last minute and we were supposed to eat at mine tonight but Mason’s got a fever and they need me in the kitchen for the dinner rush—“

“Steve, sweetie, it’s alright. Me and the twins will be quite fine on our own for one Monday, I assure you. You just focus on making sure you don’t overwork yourself to death tonight, yeah?”

Steve chuckled at that, pulling the laces on his sneakers tighter and crafting the phone between his shoulder and ear. “Rodger that. I’ve gotta get going though, need to get Louie situated before I head out.”

“That’s quite alright, dear. Is that Nancy of yours coming to watch him? Or are you taking him there?”

Steve huffed a slightly pathetic chuckle that was more air than anything. “Nah, Nancy’s got her own dinners on Monday nights. Louie usually comes in with me and waits it out.”

Steve was standing straight now— well, with one hip cocked to the side and his hand resting on it. But his shoes were firmly on and Louie was watching him with bright eyes. Steve smiled at the baby and made a face that had Little Louie giggling and covering his mouth with chunky little hands.

On the other line, Miss. Bottomette hummed.

“Well that just won’t do, huh? I could take him for the night, Steve.”

Steve startled and put both hands on the phone.

“Oh! No no no— that’s alright, Miss. Bottomette. My manager, George, is really chill about letting me turn his office into a daycare for Louie while I’m at work. And I’ve got people to check on him there while I’m busy so I’m not leaving him alone the whole time—“

“I hear that, hon, but maybe it’s time you let someone take him off your hands for a bit, yeah? The twins will want to see him at some point anyway.”

Steve pursed his lips and twirled the phone cord around his fingers.

“I seriously can’t ask you to do that, Miss. Bottomette. I’ll be on shift until at least 10 tonight and then I have to help with closing so there’s no guarantee I’ll be back before 11.”

“And that’s quite fine. I’m fully capable of watching your boy until then, dear.”

“Are you sure?” Steve’s voice was so small, so unsure. It made something break a little in Miss. Bottomette’s chest.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Steve sighed into the receiver. “Ok.” He whispered and relented.

“That’s what I thought.” Miss. Bottomette chuckled. “Now, should I come over there or are you ok with bringing him over here?”

.

Work was a doozy.

Between coming in at 6:30 and working until just past 11, Steve was asked constantly about the lack of Louie in the diner.

It was fun and comforting in a way to have so many people care enough to ask about the missing baby. But Steve just wanted to get through his shift quickly to get back to said baby.

He could feel the nerves eating away at him. Steve kept watch on the time all shift, watching the clock tick slower every time.

He’d never left Louie home like this before. Never with anyone other than Nancy. The anxiety was absolutely agonizing but he pushed through until his break, where he called Miss. Bottomette from the phone outside.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Miss. Bottomette, it’s Steve.”

“I know who it is, ain’t no one else call me ‘Miss’ who know me like you do, son.”

Steve managed a slight laugh. It was true. For months now, Steve has been practically apart of their little family. And yet he still referred to her so formally. It was simply something that was beaten into him from a young age.

“You’re right, sorry. I was just calling to check on you guys and Louie?”

“Everyones alright over here, Steve. Noah and Casey are just about passed out on the couch and Louie’s fast asleep in bed.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, Miss. Bottomette.”

“You’ve got it dear. Now go get back to work, and tell Gwen and Allya I said hi.”

Steve could hear the smile in her voice.

“Will do, thanks again.”

He hung up after their goodbyes. God, he really needed a cigarette.

He ran inside real quick to grab his pack out of his bag, lighting up the moment he set foot back through the door to the alley by the diner.

Steve hadn’t been able to smoke too much lately with Louie and the twins. Miss. Bottomette also smoked, but she had explained how she’d dialed it down astronomically with how much the twins were over.

Steve was just halfway done with his cigarette, lost in his thoughts and staring off into space when a pair of boots stopped in front of where he was sitting on the curb.

He spared a glance up to the sudden intruder, giving a second glance when he saw Eddie Munson.

Steve blew the smoke out of his lungs. “Um, hi?”

“Harrington.” Was the only response he got.

Steve ground his cigarette out on the sidewalk and stood, tucking the now put out cigarette behind his ear. He took half a step back so he wasn’t quite chest to chest with Eddie.

“Hey, man. Uh— I’m not really looking to buy anything at the moment.” Steve stumbled his way through a sentence. Eddie Munson was a looming presence that Steve couldn’t figure out, not since he’d fist saw him when he started high school.

Eddie was only a year ahead of Steve despite being nearly 2 years older than him. When Steve had started his freshman year, he’d been immediately pulled into Munson’s orbit of lunchtime rants and class skipping.

Until he was pulled by Cairo Rickson, the then-basketball captain. Eddie had kinda left Steve in the dust after he joined the basketball team.

Now Eddie Munson was redoing his senior year a second time— they even shared some classes. But they’d never spoken outside of school or Steve’s old house parties.

Eddie was staring at him with an odd flicker in his gaze. Something that threw Steve almost completely off. Something that almost looked like interest.

Steve swallowed. It was then that he actually took in Eddie’s face— not just his eyes. (Eyes that were so big and dark Steve thought they were black. He’d later realize they were actually a dark brown.) Eddie’s mouth was pressed in a line, his cheeks flushed from the cold breeze, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

He looked almost stressed.

“You alright, dude? C’mon, Eddie talk to me here. You’re kinda freakin’ me out.”

Steve felt his natural worry starting to kick in. That urge to press and figure out what was wrong.

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing aggressively and rubbing a harsh hand down his face. He wore a ton of rings that glinted in the streetlight they stood under.

“Listen—“ Steve was cut off.

“Do you have a lighter? Mine is fucking me over and I just really need to smoke.”

Well, ok then.

Steve blinked owlishly for a moment before spurring into motion.

“Um, Uh! Yeah! Yeah, I’ve got a lighter. Hang on—“

Steve handed over his lighter without a second thought, watching Eddie pull an already-rolled joint out of his pocket and immediately light up. Steve payed extra attention to his lips— pink and bitten-raw— when he blew out the smoke.

“Thanks, man.” Steve’s eyes snapped back to Eddie’s looming ones. They were wide and earnest, no longer narrowed and suspicious.

“Yeah, no problem.” He accepted the offered lighter, ignoring the tingle from their brushing pinkies.

“Alrighty then, Steve-o. Catch you later.” Eddie gave him a two-finger salute and promptly walked away. Steve watched him go, following him with his eyes until he was out of sight and leaving a chorus of “what the fuck” replaying in Steve’s mind.

He tucked his unfinished cigarette back into the box and went to finish his shift.

.

True to his word, Steve wasn’t home until just before 11 that night.

Miss. Bottomette was up and waiting for him, the lamp in the living room on a low setting because there for some reason were never living room lights in trailers. The twins were spread out on the floor, lying on top of each other with Casey’s head on Noah’s legs while she practically kicked him in the face.

Steve snickered quietly to himself, dropping his bag quietly on the couch and closing the door as silently as possible.

Miss. Bottomette barely glanced up from her book to greet Steve. The familiarity gave him butterflies.

“Hey, sweetie.” She bookmarked her page and took off her glasses.

Steve smiled sweetly at her. “Hi, Miss. Bottomette. Louie alright?” He’d noticed the absence of his baby bug the moment he walked in the door.

“He’s quite alright, dear. Sleeping in your room, yes with the pillows.”

Steve deflated slightly, his worries seeping out slowly while Miss. Bottomette reassured him.

“That’s good. Great, yeah. Thanks so much. You need help taking these two back?” He nodded his head to the twins sleeping on his carpet.

“No it’s fine, hon. I’ll just wake ‘em up and let ‘em complain themselves tired again.” She grinned mischievously. Steve giggled.

“I can carry them over,” he offered instead.

“Are you sure, dear? You have to be exhausted after your shift, they can deal with a little bit of walking.”

Steve shook his head and smiled. Yeah, he was tired to the bone, his muscles sore and his legs on fire from standing and serving, but he’d be fine for this last thing. Then he could crash.

He stooped down and took Casey first since she was practically on top of Noah. She woke up briefly, just to smile at Steve and wrap her arms around his neck. He ran her outside and to their trailer just one place over. Setting her down was difficult as she didn’t want to let go of him to lay her bed, but he pried her off eventually.

Noah had shifted to curl around a couch pillow on the floor while he was gone. While Miss. Bottomette shuffled around grabbing all of her stuff, Steve picked up Noah and chuckled when he stayed completely dead to the world.

Noah was slightly heavier than Casey, but Steve made do and walked him carefully to the trailer and into his room. Noah was still out like a light, despite the slightly harsh landing because Steve’s arms gave out.

The twins shared a room, it being split down the middle by a curtain. Steve made sure they were both tucked in and sleeping before turning the lamp on on Noah’s side (he was scared of the dark) and pulling the curtain closed.

Miss. Bottomette was waiting for him again when he got home, her bag over her shoulder and the twins’ shoes in her hands. She smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, hon. Those two are going to wake up tomorrow thinking they teleported.” They both chuckled.

“It was no problem, seriously. Thanks again for watching Louie all night.”

Miss. Bottomette waved him off and gave him a big hug instead.

“Enough with that ‘Miss. Bottomette’ nonsense, kiddo. You can call me Margaret, or even Gran. I promise you there’s nothing wrong with dropping the title.”

Steve swallowed and wrapped his arms around her in return, blinking an onslaught of tears from his eyes. “Thanks,” he whispered into her hair.

“Alright.” She pulled back. “You go ahead and crash. I’ll see you when I see you tomorrow, though you have both school and work, huh?”

Steve chuckled and nodded.

Miss— Gran left then, closing the door as gently as she could (but the door was a piece of shit and had to be slammed in order to fully close). Steve sighed and finally toed his shoes off.

He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror after a nice, hot shower. His hair was getting longer, curling around his ears and reaching the back of his neck. Steve smiled a little. He liked the length.

Slipping on a shirt that was two sizes too big and his Hawkins swim shorts, Steve didn’t waste another moment before getting into bed right next to Louie.

He turned off the lamp and let the night light shine bright instead. Louie already had a death grip on Steve’s pointer finger. He smiled at his baby and let himself fall asleep.

[steveseddie]

with a cold breeze

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 4,281

tags: eddie munson lives, didn't know they were dating, getting together, first kiss, fluff and hurt/comfort

for the @steddielovemonth prompt: “love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold” by @stevesbipanic

a/n: this is my first time writing a prompt for this event and it was so much fun! also this ended up longer than i thought but. enjoy 🩷

click here to read on ao3

***

In Eddie’s defense, he shouldn’t have been expected to bring a jacket. Not when Steve didn’t tell him where they were going or when he sent Eddie spiraling into a pit of pining by showing up at his doorstep with a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight blue jeans and a black jacket thrown on top, looking like he stepped out of Eddie’s dreams.

Now that he thinks about it, Steve might’ve told him to grab a jacket, but Eddie was too busy picking his jaw off the floor to listen to him.

When he stepped out of the trailer and followed Steve to his car, Eddie felt a light chill in the air, but since he assumed Steve was taking them to the movies or for dinner at that diner he likes, he figured the flannel he was wearing over his Metallica singlet would be enough to withstand it. 

Eddie doesn’t know exactly when this became a thing they did- Steve picking him up and taking him to dinner or a movie or ice cream or roller skating. 

(That last one was Eddie’s least favorite one because he spent half the time they were there falling on his ass. Or maybe it wasn’t, because the other half was spent holding on to Steve’s hand as he guided Eddie around the rink and helped him keep his balance.)

Eddie still can’t help but feel surprised whenever Steve turns up at his door, even if it happens multiple times a week these days. He knows this is what friends do, but maybe it’s still just a little hard to believe that he’s friends with Steve Harrington. 

(“You make it sound like I’m some kind of celebrity, man,” Steve said the first time Eddie voiced his shock about him wanting to spend time with Eddie. 

“Dude, you are the king of Hawkins! You are a celebrity!” Eddie said, dramatically shaking Steve’s shoulders which earned him a mighty eye roll and a playful shove. “And celebrities don’t want to spend time with freaks like me.”

Steve’s face softened at that, he bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his. “Well, this one does.”)

Eddie knows Steve is being genuine every time he says he wants to hang out, but a part of him always expects Steve to get tired of him and ditch Eddie, and start taking a nice pretty girl on these outings instead. 

(“Dates, they’re dates,” Max deadpanned after hearing Eddie ramble about Steve for roughly ten minutes straight. She’d clocked Eddie’s feelings for Steve right away when he came back from the roller rink with his backside bruised, but still with a dopey smile on his face to Max waiting for him at the steps of his trailer. “Steve Harrington is taking you out on dates!” 

“He’s not, they’re not dates,” Eddie said with a firm shake of his head. 

“Dude, Lucas literally took me to the roller rink last week.” 

“Aw, cute. Did he hold your hand?” 

“I held his, I skate, remember? And for a jock, he’s got terrible balance,” she says, lips twitching into a little smile. “Not as bad as yours though.” 

“Hey!”)

Even if Max insists on calling them dates, Eddie won’t. He can’t. He knows Steve doesn’t see them that way so he can’t do it either, not if he wants to protect his heart. 

So he ignores that Steve opens the door to his car for him like he would if this was a real date and he ignores that he lets Eddie pick the music or that he keeps a few of Eddie’s tapes in his car for him to choose from, even if they’re not at all what he likes, and he ignores the way he keeps glancing at Eddie at stop signs or red lights with a sweet little smile that makes his stomach swoop like when he went through the gate to the Upside Down did, only better. 

Or he tries to ignore it, at least.

“Soooo where are we going?” Eddie asks, contorting himself so he can sit cross-legged in Steve’s passenger seat after picking the music for the ride. 

Steve bops his head to the beginning of a Dio song and Eddie can’t help but feel proud. 

“It’s a surprise,” he says. 

Eddie groans. “Is this surprise also going to end up with me not being able to sit properly for a week?” He only realizes how that sounds when Steve’s head snaps to him, eyebrows high on his forehead. God. “You know cause I kept falling on my ass at the roller rink, not because- uh.” 

He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, but luckily Steve spares him. With a soft laugh, he says, “Don’t worry, you won’t have trouble sitting after tonight.” Then Steve smirks, the little shit. “From falling on your ass- or some other reason.” 

Eddie flushes bright red.

He lowers the window and shivers when the cold air hits his face, but the wind helps cool down his flushed cheeks so he leaves it open. He notices that instead of driving them downtown, Steve is driving them further out. 

“I’m not gonna have trouble sitting ‘cause you’re luring me into the woods to murder me? Is that it?”

“And why would I want to murder you?” Steve asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like entertaining Eddie’s nonsense causes him physical pain. 

The wind blows Eddie’s hair away from his face. “Maybe you’re jealous of my luscious hair.” He hopes the wind makes him look like one of those cover shoots on the magazines that he sees at the store, but realistically, he knows he probably looks like a dog sticking his head out the window. “My naturally beautiful hair that doesn’t need any Farrah Fawcett spray.” 

Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie. “That little shit told you!” 

Eddie grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Dustin told you, didn’t he?” 

“I won’t reveal my sources,” he says, pretending to zip up his lips. 

“You don’t have to, you dork. Dustin is the only one I told.” He pauses, thinking. “Maybe I am committing murder tonight.”

“Mine?”

“Henderson’s. And then yours so the secret dies with you.” He glances at Eddie with a smile. “And maybe because I am a little jealous of your beautiful hair.” His voice is a little too soft to sound like a joke.

Eddie gives him a shy smile and then flicks his hair over his shoulder with a dramatic flare. Steve laughs, head thrown back, as they drive past the Leaving Hawkins sign. 

***

Steve drives them to the top of a hill just outside of Hawkins. 

Eddie’s first thought when Steve parks his car next to a little forest is that maybe he’s actually planning to murder him tonight. 

His second thought comes when Steve opens Eddie’s door and a gust of wind hits Eddie, making him realize that no, his flannel won’t be enough. He’s going to freeze his ass off so even if Steve doesn’t murder him, Eddie will die anyway. 

His third thought comes when Steve takes hold of his wrist and drags him out of the car and towards a cliff overlooking most of Hawkins.

Eddie voices that thought with an appreciative whistle.

“Holy shit, that’s a killer view.”

“Right?” Steve asks with a grin. His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist and he can feel the way he’s bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other. 

“Yeah, wow. You wouldn’t think that Hawkins is a shit town from up here,” Eddie says, taking in not only the night lights, but the stars above them too, shining brighter than Eddie has ever seen them.

“Yeah, it almost looks normal, no monsters or alternate dimensions.”

“No hordes of angry town people who want to burn you at the stake.” 

Steve gives Eddie’s wrist a comforting squeeze. He glances at the ground. “No shitty parents calling you a disappointment and an embarrassment,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. 

Eddie frowns. He shakes his hand until Steve loosens his hold, but before he can retreat it into his pocket because he thinks Eddie is trying to get him to let go, he tangles his fingers loosely with Steve’s. “They came back tonight?” 

Steve stares down at their hands, his thumb rubs over one of Eddie’s rings. “Yeah, and they managed to pick a fight within five minutes of walking through the door. Must be some kind of record.”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry, Steve.” 

With a sigh, Steve finally looks up. “It’s not your fault, and besides-” He smiles at Eddie. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about them.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “What did you bring me here for?” 

Steve’s smile turns into a grin, he drops Eddie’s hand and starts walking backward toward the car. “Wait here.” 

“You better not be abandoning me to die here!” 

He gets no reply. Eddie squints at him as he rummages through the trunk of his car but it’s a little hard to see clearly in the dark. He wraps his arms around himself while he waits, feeling colder by the second, and resists the urge to ask Steve if he has an extra jacket lying around. It’ll send him into Mother Hen mode and he’ll start fussing about Eddie catching something and probably scold him for not bringing his own jacket. 

So he acts as nonchalant as possible about the cold when Steve comes back, hiding something behind his back that Eddie can’t see. 

“I didn’t bring you here to murder you or abandon you. I brought you here to have a picnic with me.” As he says this, he shows Eddie what he was holding behind his back- a checkered blanket and a goddamn picnic basket. 

Eddie blinks dumbly at the two items and then at Steve, mouth gaping like a fish. “A picnic?” 

Steve nods a little shyly. “Um yeah, is that okay?” 

Eddie lets out a disbelieving laugh. A fucking picnic under the stars- oh, Max is going to have a field trip teasing Eddie about this one!

He realizes that Steve might be taking his reaction the wrong way when he starts to fidget so Eddie wipes the surprise from his face and grins at Steve. “Depends on what you packed in there, big boy.” 

A high-pitched laughter tumbles out of Steve’s lips and even with just the moonlight he can see his cheeks tint pink. “Well, do you like grilled cheese?”

***

Eddie makes grabby hands at the basket. Once Steve spreads the blanket on the ground, he flops down and starts digging through the contents.

There’s grilled cheese wrapped in tin foil paper, two bags of chips, two sodas, and a big serving of pie. Eddie’s mouth waters. 

“So,” Steve asks, wrapping his arms around his knees. “What do you think?” 

“I think,” Eddie pauses, thinking. “That I don’t care if you murder me as long as you let me eat this first.” 

“You’re so annoying,” Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

“If I’m so annoying,” Eddie says, neatly arranging the food between them on the blanket, or as best as he can on the uneven ground. “Then why did you go through all this trouble for little ol’ me?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He looks like he wants to say something, but then changes his mind, only to part his lips again. The look in his eyes betrays nothing, no matter how much Eddie tries to read it. Despite the cold, Eddie’s hands start to sweat a little. 

But then Steve shakes his head and looks down, picking up his grilled cheese. When he looks back at Eddie again, his eyes are soft, crinkling at the corners, but whatever he saw in them before is now gone. “Let’s eat before it gets cold, okay?”

After the first bite, Eddie discovers that Steve must be some kind of grilled cheese genius. When he tells Steve this, he waves it off with a shy smile, but he seems pleased. 

They talk in between bites of food, or in Eddie’s case, through mouthfuls of melted cheese. The whole time, Eddie tries to ignore the chill in the air, but every gust of wind reminds him he’s only wearing a singlet under a very thin flannel and neither does much to protect him from the cold. Still, he does his best to hide his shivering from Steve, but it’s a little hard to do when Steve won’t take his eyes off of him for some reason.

Right now, he’s staring almost unblinkingly at Eddie with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms wrapped around his knees, a soft smile painted on his lips as Eddie tells him how excited he and the kids are about the next Hellfire meeting. 

“You’re always excited about your nerdy game,” Steve smirks. 

“Fair, but this time it’s different because the kids finally convinced Max to play!” 

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “How did they manage that?”

“Well, they didn’t convince her so much as they tricked her into it.” 

“Yeah, that makes more sense.” 

“But! It doesn’t matter cause she’s going to love it so much she’ll beg to join again! I’ve been working on her character sheet to make it perfect for her and I got her this cool set of dice- red dice, of course, cause her character will be called Ruby. Ruby the Rebel.”

Steve’s smile turns impossibly softer at Eddie’s excited rambling. “That sounds just as cool as her. What kind of- uh like, what’s her-”

“Class?” Eddie asks, stomach swooping a little at Steve trying to remember things about their nerdy game so he can ask Eddie. Steve nods. “Oh, she’s a-” He cuts himself off when a cool breeze stirs beneath his flannel and he shivers with a curse. “Jesus H. Christ!” 

Steve startles and his head whips in different directions, looking out for danger. “What?” 

“Sorry, nothing! It’s just really cold! Sorry!” 

Steve relaxes, then frowns. Narrowed eyes travel over Eddie’s body. “Wait, where’s your jacket?” 

“Uh.”

“Did you leave it in the car?” 

“More like, left it at home?” Steve’s face turns pinched. “You didn’t tell me where we were going, I didn’t know I would need a jacket!” 

“Yes, you did, I told you to bring one!” Steve says, exasperated. 

Oh. So Steve did tell him to bring a jacket. Huh. 

“Here,” Steve says and then starts shrugging off his jacket. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m giving you my jacket, obviously.” He removes it completely and Eddie gives himself a second to commit to memory just how tight Steve’s white shirt is. It’s also thin. Eddie shakes his head. 

“But you’ll be cold.” 

“I won’t.” He shrugs. “I run hot.”

“You’re hot,” Eddie says and realizes too late that his brain-to-mouth filter must’ve been damaged by the cold. “I mean you look hot, like you don’t look cold.”

Steve bites down on a grin. “Take the jacket before you catch something, Eds.” 

“O-kay, mom Steve.” He accepts the jacket, and when he puts it on, he can’t help but sigh happily. It’s warm from Steve’s body heat. It also smells just like him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Steve smiles. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks and it takes Eddie a minute to remember what they were talking about, distracted as he is by Steve’s warmth and smell surrounding him.

***

“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?” 

Eddie jerks his head back, out of the basket where he was looking for the forks that Steve packed for the pie. “Uh, like, every day of my life, man.” 

“Because of Vecna?”

“No, long before that.” Eddie finds the fork. Singular. “You only packed one, Stevie, but I can just use my fingers.” He wiggles them and Steve shakes his head. 

“We can share,” he says. Alarms go off in Eddie’s head at the thought of passing the fork back and forth between them, sharing the slice of pie. He hasn’t been to that many dates in his life, but sharing dessert sounds a lot like a date thing.

“Sure,” he says, shrugging casually. Steve takes the first bite and hands it to Eddie. “Anyway, yeah. I always knew I wanted to leave. Knowing that there’s an alternate dimension at our feet that could pop up the next monster at any second only made the urge stronger, but. Gotta graduate first.”

“Where will you go? When you graduate?” 

“I don’t know. Some big city with a cool music scene, maybe. I can join a band that’s actually going somewhere.” He snorts. “No offense to Corroded Coffin.” 

Steve chuckles. “I’ve always thought you belong in some big city.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, dude, you’ve always seemed- I don’t know, too big for Hawkins,” he says with an awed tone. Eddie’s throat feels dry, he skips the next bite of pie, giving it back to Steve. “Like you should be somewhere with people as loud and talented and great as you.”

Eddie swallows thickly. His eyes haven’t left Steve’s face, but Steve isn’t looking at him, instead he’s staring ahead at Hawkins or maybe like he’s trying to see even further than that. Eddie’s glad he’s not looking at him, he doesn’t even know what his face is doing right now, listening to Steve talk about him like that, there’s probably hearts in his eyes or something.

“I- I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” Eddie says to break the silence. Steve hums like he thinks it’s a good idea. “What about you, Steve? Do you think about leaving?”

“Sometimes. I- I’ve actually been saving up money to go to college. Nothing prestigious like Nance or Robin, just community college maybe.”

“That’s great, Steve,” Eddie says.

“But I don’t think I can leave until I know it’s over, you know? The Upside Down, especially if the kids are still going to be here.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that. Kinda makes you want to steal another RV, pack them all up and leave Hawkins for good.”

Steve meets his eyes finally. He smiles. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I think we could do it,” Eddie says, entertaining the thought for a moment. 

“You don’t think we’d end up in jail? For grand theft auto and kidnapping children?”

“Shh, let a guy dream, Harrington.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, holding up his hands in defense. “You know I haven’t told anyone about saving up for college. Just you.”

“Not even Buckley?”

Steve shakes his head. “I already failed once trying to get in. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve failed again. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Eddie thinks about what Steve said when they got here, about the fight with his parents, about them calling Steve a disappointment. “You could never disappoint me. Or Buckley or the kids. We all worship the ground you walk on, King Steve.”

“Shut up,” Steve says with a lighthearted shove to Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t.”

“We do! Because we know just how good and badass you are, and whoever can’t see that is a butthead.”

“Are you calling my parents buttheads?” Steve asks with a barely concealed snort. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing!” He puts his hands around his mouth and yells. “The Harringtons are buttheads!”

Steve breaks into giggles, falling back against the blanket, squirming with laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” Eddie says without thinking, and watches as something flashes across Steve’s face.

Before he can backtrack or brush it off as a joke, Steve sits up again, his jaw set with determination. 

“The fight with my parents was because of you,” he says. And okay, that’s not what Eddie was expecting. 

“Me?”

“They came home just as I was packing this up.” He gestures at the picnic basket. “I didn’t hear them come in until they came into the kitchen. They thought I was doing all of this for a girl so they started going off about me wasting my life and everything that they worked so hard to give me just to go on dates and work at a goddamn video store. They told me that it didn’t matter how much I tried, this girl was going to realize I was a failure and leave me. I don’t know what made me more angry- what they were saying about me or that they were talking about you like they knew you.” Steve pauses and takes a deep breath. “So I snapped and I told them I wasn’t packing all of that for a girl, that I was doing it for you. A guy. And that you would never leave me because I work at a video store or because our dates consist of grilled cheese sandwiches and roller skating and babysitting kids. And I guess that was a little presumptuous of me since we never really agreed that these were dates and I don’t even know if you-”

“Yes,” Eddie says when he finally finds his voice. He lost it somewhere around Steve calling this, and all the things they’ve been doing together for weeks, dates.

Steve blinks, his lips press together like he’s trying to stop himself from smiling, from getting ahead of himself. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “What were you going to say?”

“That I don’t even know if you feel the same way I feel for you.”

“Yes.” Eddie repeats. “Holy fuck, Steve, yes I do.”

Steve stops trying to hide his smile. He beams at Eddie. “Yeah? You’re crazy about me too?”

Eddie whines low in his throat. “Steve.”

Steve pushes himself to his knees and then he closes the distance between them by crawling towards Eddie. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t stop thinking about me and you want to listen to me talk all day about nerdy shit too?” Steve asks, crowding against Eddie until he has no choice but to lean back until he’s lying down on the blanket and Steve is hovering over him. 

“Sports shit but yeah, yes.”

Steve leans down until his lips are right next to Eddie’s ear. “You want to kiss me too?” Eddie shivers, and this time, it’s not because of the cold. He’s never felt warmer in his entire life. 

“Yes,” he says. “Please, Steve.”

Steve closes the distance between them and crashes his lips against Eddie’s, kissing him hard and desperately, drawing a whimper out of him. Eddie kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, his hands coming up to grip Steve’s waist, his shoulders, his arms. 

His freezing arms. 

“Christ, Steve!”

“What? What?” Steve asks, pulling back just enough so that Eddie can see his face- flushed with parted, swollen lips and blown pupils. 

And oh. Yeah. Eddie needs to see Steve looking like this again soon. Preferably when he’s not freezing to death. 

“You’re freezing, man. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was a little busy,” Steve smirks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m giving you your jacket back,” he says, squirming as he tries to shrug off the jacket with Steve still on top of him. 

“No, Eds-” 

“Then we’re going to the car.”

“But I can’t kiss you like this in the car,” Steve pouts and the sight of a pouty Steve because he wants to straddle Eddie and kiss him stupid shouldn’t make him consider staying out here in the cold, but it does. Just for a moment. 

“You can, if we climb in the backseat, baby,” Eddie says with a sly grin. 

Steve’s eyes widen, his eyes flick to the car and then to Eddie’s lips and Eddie sees the moment he makes a decision. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I am a little cold. Let’s go.”

They pick up the trash and the blanket in record time, even while stealing short, giggly kisses. 

“I can’t believe we’ve been on so many dates and you haven’t even asked me out once!” Eddie says, balling up the tin foil paper and throwing it at Steve’s face. He throws his head back with a groan. “I can’t believe Max was right!” 

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You talk to Max about me? Your fifteen-year-old neighbor?” 

Eddie arches an eyebrow right back. “Oh, so you don’t talk to Dustin, your fifteen-year-old best friend about me?” 

“Of course I do,” Steve sniggers. “He’s the one who told me you can’t roller skate to save your life.”

“Then why did you take me to the roller rink?” Eddie asks with an undignified squeak, feeling the phantom pain of his many falls.

“So I could do this-” Steve takes hold of Eddie’s hands, tangling their fingers together, “-all night.” 

Eddie flushes, looking down at their hands with a smile. “That was a good plan, I’ll give you that.” 

He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. “I have more where that came from.” 

The touch makes Eddie’s insides flutter, he pulls a strand of hair across his face with his free hand, but Steve can probably still see his red cheeks. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” Steve hums. He crowds against Eddie until his back hits the car, pinning him against it. “And I can show you. If you agree to go on a date with me.” Steve’s free hand plays with the lapel of his jacket on Eddie. “Officially, I mean.” 

Eddie grins. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. 

Then he’s dragging him into the backseat, and for the rest of the night, neither of them feels cold again.