#stobin soulmates

[hotluncheddie]

‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting. 

He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly. 

Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve. 

He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit. 

‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm. 

‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’ 

‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head. 

Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain. 

‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now. 

‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’ 

He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek 

‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite. 

‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.  

Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face. 

‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming. 

-

me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider by me | Part 2 | Part 3 | Ao3

The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here. 

“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”

Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside. 

“Maybe it will let up before we close.”

Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.

“I like the way you think.”

There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.

“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.

“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.

“They better be selling towels here.”

“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”

This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.

“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”

“You did, yeah.”

The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up. 

Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.

“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.

“No, we—”

“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.

“No,” he admits petulantly.

“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.

“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms. 

Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.

“What’s up?”

She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.

“Her.”

"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.

“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies. 

Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.

“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.

“Or she could not know.”

That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?

After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.

"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.

Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off. 

"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections. 

Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.

They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up. 

"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.

It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.

“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”

Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.

He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.

“You’re thinking about her again!" 

“I’m sorry!”

Steve shakes his head.

“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”

"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"

But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.

With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him. 

That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex. 

After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch,  when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.

"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"

Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.

"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."

"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."

Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.

"The girl from the other day?" he asks.

"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow. 

“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.

“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.

“Well, you could be dating.”

The guy snorts.

“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”

Chris.

“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”

Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.

"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"

If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself. 

The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:

"Eddie! A little help, please!"

And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.

"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.

After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.

“Chrissyyyyyy!”

“Eddieeeeee!”

The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”

“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”

“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.

Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.

“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”

“Oh my god! Just spill it!”

“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”

“The sex shop guys?”

He nods.

“Okay, and the bad one?”

“Steve seems to be into you.”

“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.

“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.

Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.

“Stop! What are you thinking about?”

“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”

Eddie chokes but she keeps going.

“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”

“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.

“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”

“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.

“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”

“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.

“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.

Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.

“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.

“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.

Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.

“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.

“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:

“Sure. Any place in mind?”

She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.

“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”

“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.

She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.

“You wanna see that girl again.”

“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”

“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”

“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”

He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van. 

The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.

The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.

At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.

"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers. 

"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"

Eddie raises his hands placatingly.

"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?"  he asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow. 

"No reason, no reason." 

Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.

“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”

It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.

“Foreign languages.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.

“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”

The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.

He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise. 

“Chris, right?”

“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.

“Uh, you too. Steve.”

Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.

Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.

“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”

“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”

Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.

“Here.”

But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.

“You have a D20 tattoo.”

“Huh?”

Steve is losing his mind.

But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.

“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”

“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic. 

Eddie hums.

“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”

Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.

“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”

Steve chuckles.

"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."

"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously. 

"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."

"Kids?"

Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy. 

"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

"They sound delightful."

"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him. 

"So uh, see you around?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"

"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket. 

"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?" 

"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"

"Thanks."

The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.

"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones. 

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.

"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"

"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.

"You were clearly flirting with him."

"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.

She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.

"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."

"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her. 

"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."

"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.

"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."

"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.

"These are not his kids."

"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.

"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"

"Ew."

"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."

A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.

"Please don't remind me."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.

"I hope you're right too." 

[infinite-orangepeel]

steve canonically wears a locket with a pic of eddie on one side and a pic of robin on the other 💌

[str4wb3rry-fire]

i keep seeing all these soulmate aus where when you turn 18 your soulmates name appears somewhere on your body yada yada ...

however, i want to see one where their true name appears. like stevie harrington appears somewhere on eddie/robin (personally i think robin should always be the (platonic) soulmate), but steve hasnt realized hes trans yet or just hasnt come out. so eddie/robin is just rly confused.

OR ALTERNATIVELY

eddie munson appears on steve/chrissy (again, i lean towards chrissy being his platonic soulmate) when theyre kids, but eddie is still eden munson or something. so theyre just confused and assume its someone else that happens to have the same last name or something.

did any of that make sense? 😭 i just think it would be neat

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

And another average day at Family Video:

"No you literally can't"

"Of course you can, dingus! Some are just classics!"

"Well, and some go to Family Video to browse and randomly choose movies they know nothing about!"

"But doesn't that further prove my point?! Why would someone choose a movie solely by the cover if the cover is just a hot person?!"

"Well you said that Rocky Horror is also a queer classic and me and Tommy chose that one at random back when we were both assholes. If you'd flirted with Carol then you probably would have been hate-crimed."

"That is not a word"

"Well good thing I don't work in a fucking library then"

They glare at each other. If this was another genre, this story would end in a fight to the death. As things are, they are just two best friends getting unnecessarily heated while fighting about nothing. To be fair, it's more entertaining than watching the same two questionable movies over and over again.

Robin crosses her arms. "Okay. So just, let me repeat. To make sure I understood. You - who have admitted that you would sleep with Jonathan and Eddie if the chance arose and made out with Tommy multiple times - watched Rocky Horror Picture Show with Tommy, who may I remind you - you made out with multiple times, which once again, fucking ew-"

"Hey! He was the one who suggested it first!"

"And then you have the audacity to say that Rocky Horror Picture Show isn't gay?!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M FUCKING SAYING. If one were to see the cover with no context and decided to rent it just to see what it is about-"

"You mean the cover of Tim Curry in drag?!"

"Yeah well, Tommy was the one who chose the movie, and he is straight. So."

"Didn't you just say that Tommy was the one who wanted to kiss you first?!?"

Steve rolls his eyes so hard it's a wonder they stay safely inside their socket. "Yeah, but that's just the normal amount of same-sex attraction every straight dude has. That was just boys being boys. If that made someone gay, the whole basketball team would be full of queers"

"First of all, I will be coming back to that last bit later-"

"You? Coming for the all-male basketball team? Never thought I'd see the day"

He can admit that he probably deserves the kick against his shin.

"Focus, dingus! Let me just repeat what you just said. And I want you to think about it carefully, okay?! So in your words, a boy kissing another boy is not gay, unless one of the boys acknowledges that that is gay?"

"Uhm, duh?"

"So you and Tommy kissing was... straight?"

"I mean. No. Because I have now realized that I am not straight which retroactively makes the making out sessions gay"

Robin thumps her head against the counter. She takes a deep breath and does it again for good measure.

"I- oh my god. Okay. Just. Think about what you just said, okay? Think about it carefully. Think about it while you rewind that stack of tapes."

"Hey isn't it your turn?"

"Wrong thing to think about! You do that while I clean this...already clean counter. Again."

He gives her the stink eye but does as he is told.

They change topics. Robin tells him about the newest gossip in band. It is surprisingly intense. Just like Robin is also intense. Maybe only intense people go to band. Or maybe playing an instrument makes you intense? Well, he has a band member right here, so he asks, and they spend the next half an hour making fun of various instruments. The gay-jokes-whiteboard gains a lot of new points.

Both are laughing so hard they don't even realize they have a customer until the girl is standing in front of the counter, "The Wizard of Oz" in her hands. Steve raises a brow. Do you think this one is gay too? Robin nods to the snap hook hooked to her trousers holding her keys. Duh. He rolls his eyes. I also do this all the fucking time. It's convenient, okay?! It means nothing. Robin only looks at him with a deadpan look. You are literally further proving my point.

It is then that it clicks. "Oh my god it was gay! What the fuck?!"

Robin's face falls. He hears a gasp from somewhere behind him. Oh yeah. They were not alone in the shop right now. Fuck.

Steve thinks he vaguely recognizes her. He never talked to her, but it is hard to miss her bright red hair. Her name was....Vinnie? Or something? Right??

She looks down to her snap hook. It seems like she is going to run out of the shop at any moment. But then she takes a deep breath and looks up again, determination in her eyes. "Are you...are you also a friend of Dorothy?"

Robin's eyes shine. Steve goes to the back to have his mental breakdown in peace.

Steve isn't sure how much time passes before he dares to come out again. Vanessa (?) is gone and Robin looks incredibly smug.

He sighs. A true man knows when to admit defeat. "Okay. Maybe you had a point. With Tommy."

Her smile widens even more. "Only Tommy?"

"And the basketball team. And Valerie."

She frowns. "Who the fuck is Valerie."

"The girl who just left? Red hair? Also in band I think? Friend of Dorothy or whatever?"

"Her name is Vicky."

"Hey, I got the first letter right. If you expect much more from me you are seriously deluding yourself."

Robin rolls her eyes. They continue working in silence, but there is a tension in the air that hasn't been there since Robin first came out to him. Steve is not a very patient dude, but he can wait as long as it takes when it regards someone he cares about. And so he does.

"...Hey Steve?"

"Yes Robin?"

"I- I know we talk about it relatively openly here because it's always deserted when we have a shift together for some reason. But for the love of god, you need to be more careful. Okay?! The thing with Vicky was a lucky shot-"

"You mean your future girlfriend?~"

She pinches his lower back. Everybody looks at them weird when they do that, but it is very effective. The skin is still tender where they got their matching tramp stamps and it hurts like a bitch.

"I'm serious."

He looks at her. Sees the fear in her eyes. And he nods. I know. I promise. I'm sorry. He doesn't have to say it out loud for Robin to understand him. She knows that he means it, that he will probably be overly careful for a few weeks before they find a comfortable middle ground again. That he would never betray her trust. That is the reason they are soulmates, after all.

He isn't angry when she still asks him for reassurance anyway. "I promise", he says, more serious than he has been all day. They are both getting better at that, asking for verbal affirmation.

Another customer comes in. It's a cute girl. She rents the new Tom Cruise movie and Robin finally gets to take out the you-suck-board again.

"Okay, but did you really never realize that making out with other boys is kind of fruity?! Did I literally have to spell it out for you?"

"Hey! You yourself said that it's hard to 'break out of a heteronormative mindset' and shit. Plus, this is actually my second shift. And I used my break to drive you from school to work. So like, cut me some slack"

"Steve! I told you to stop taking double shifts all the time! No wonder you look so exhausted dingus"

"Well, Buckley, I would. But as I am sure you are fully aware Dustin's birthday is in two weeks and I need money to buy him that stupid nerd-thingie he's obsessing about-"

(more average days)

[flowercrowngods]

"I'm not dying, you don't need to come over," Steve says, sounding suspiciously like he might be dying and that Eddie needs to come over. Eddie hasn't known Steve long, but he knows that Steve is a self-sacrificing idiot and a liar who lies and takes out his own stitches and and and -

"I'm coming over," Eddie says. Then - "I'm bringing Robin."

"If you bring Robin, our relationship is over," Steve says.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Harrington," Eddie says. "I'm bringing Robin."

Steve doesn't even dignify that with a response, so Eddie calls Robin who agrees that Steve is indeed a liar who lies and she knew something was up with him and had been planning her own intervention, and they agree to meet and make his life hell (read: feed him soup).

Eddie picks her up and she wriggles into his van and he wolf whistles her and gets an elbow to the ear for his troubles. He briefly wonders if he's gay because women are mean. That might be it. Men are safer. But no, Steve is a man, and Steve is trouble. Steve might be dying right now because he is the worst kind of trouble.

"I should be heterosexual," he says aloud.

"Ew," Robin says. "You'd be so bad at it."

"I really would," he agrees, and keeps driving.

They arrive at the Harrington house with Eddie's meagre collection of soup tins and a hope and a prayer that the Harrington kitchen has some kinds of fresh vegetables and possibly even orange juice. Steve must live on something, right? (Eddie hopes he does not get takeaway for every meal. That would be concerning. And expensive. Expensively concerning. Concerningly expensive.)

Steve takes a long time to answer the door. When he does, Robin starts forward and Steve flinches.

"I'm not going to beat you up, dingus, but I'm glad you have a sense of self preservation in there somewhere," she says. "You should be in bed."

"I had to answer the door," he points out.

"Oh my god," she says and rolls her eyes. "That was a test. I have a key."

"Which I will be removing from you," Steve says, all nasally, like a nasal thing. Possibly a slug? Are slugs nasal? Eddie isn't sure.

"Boyfriend beloved," Eddie says. "Go to bed, and not in a sexy way. You are actively dripping."

"Oh, ew," Robin says.

"His nose, Robbie," Eddie says, and elbows her. She elbows him back. He elbows her back. She elbows him back -

"Enough, jesus," Steve says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Gross. "I will go to bed if you leave."

"No," Robin says. "We brought soup."

"Soup to stop you from dying," Eddie agrees. "We will now cook it for you."

"Oh god," Steve says.

"No, he wasn't involved," Eddie says. "Just us."

"We're pretty divine though, right, Eds?" Robin asks, and they giggle a little.

"I'm going to go sit down," Steve says. "Because you two are children and I deal with enough children."

"Boo, Stevie, boo," Eddie says. "But yes, sit, good."

"I'm not a dog," Steve says, but toddles off to sit.

Once he's gone, they head through to the spotless kitchen.

"I, hmm, have a confession," Robin says. "I objectively know how to make soup. But, not with any of these appliances."

Eddie looks around. There are many - machines. None of which look familiar. He tries to find the one that looks like a microwave. How does Steve live like this?

After opening several doors, they find a machine with a round rotating plate inside, and decide that's probably it, and more rooting through cupboards reveals a bowl, and so they put the soup in the bowl and label themselves geniuses, then throw the can in the bin and put the soup in the microwave.

"Eds," Robin says, waiting to input the numbers. "How long do we microwave it for?"

"I'll get the tin out of the bin," Eddie says, completing an ancient ritual.

Eventually, the soup is cooking, and it smells like soup and nothing is on fire, so it's very successful. They even find some oven mitts to take it out with, and a second bowl to put the first bowl in so Steve doesn't burn his poorly little hands on it. And a spoon! Very important, a spoon.

Eddie carries it through with great care, and Robin wanders through touching all the paintings on the walls along the way, and they find Steve - sound asleep in the recliner with the TV turned way down low.

"But my soup - " Eddie says.

"Sssshhh, he's sleeping. I think legally, we're allowed to reheat it once," Robin says, though she doesn't sound sure. Eddie looks at the soup, then at his sleeping boyfriend, then back at the soup.

"Does this count as a partial victory?" He asks, and puts the soup on the coffee table before slumping down on the couch, Robin following behind him and nestling into him, no regard for his personal space. Steve lets out a snore.

"A great soup-sess," she declares.

"No," Eddie says.

"Aw," Robin complains.

eddie is so wrong for not calling it a soup-sess actually

[anarcoqueer1994]

Robin and Steve taking a trip to Indy for the day. With their infinite wisdom(and single brain cell), and some liquid courage both decide to stop into a *queer* friendly piercing and tattoo shop.Robin walks out with nipple piercings and Steve with a prince Albert.

Cue the next day when both Nancy and Eddie walk into Steve’s house to find them both laying in his bed with hangovers and precariously placed ice packs. Neither are particularly annoyed with the piercing...more so how much of babies that both their partners are being during the healing process.

[azrielgreen]

Touched CH6 Preview (a happy one)

He and Robin eat, they talk, they endure her Mom bringing Steve fresh squeezed orange juice when she oh so casually says she thinks of him as a son in law.

‘Mom!’ Robin warns, but she loves her Mother, she’d never be mean. ‘Stop it, Steve and I are best friends, that’s all! You gotta stop.’

Steve takes the juice, savours the taste.

Nora Buckley is unrepentant. ‘You’re a lovely boy, Steve, you deserve juice.’

‘Hey, I deserve juice too, y’know? First and only born here, could use some vitamin C!’

‘Robbie, whenever I make you juice, you complain it’s pulpy.’

Robin shudders. ‘Ugh, I forgot. I’m good. No juice for me, but please stop trying to get me and Steve hitched already, it’s not gonna happen.’

Nora’s smile dims a little. ‘Well, it might.’

Robin and Steve glance at one another and away quickly, Robin sighing heavily. ‘Yeah, I guess you never know, come on now, Mom, out please.’

Her Mom brightens a little after that and leaves pretending to grumble, but Robin is sad when she returns to the bed after locking her Mom out which is, Steve has learnt, standard practise in the Buckley house. Robin never grew up being afraid of her parents.

‘I hate how much it’ll break her heart when I tell her.’

Steve reaches for her hand, takes it gently in his own and she sighs, flops down so her head is in his lap.

‘She’ll still love you,’ he says, drinks more of the juice and god damn, but that’s good. ‘She’s a great Mom.’

Robin looks up at him, morose and frowny. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘No, babe, sorry.’

‘There’s a lot of juice in it for you.’

‘Even so, I must regretfully decline. You don’t need me, anyway. They’re gonna love you no matter what.’

She sulks, cuddling his knee. ‘Not like there’s any point telling them anyway,’ she mutters.

Steve strokes her hair. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I mean there’s no point. None. No girls in this town are queer. I’m the only one.’

‘That’s kinda defeatist.’

‘Steve, look around. It’s Hawkins.’

He sips more juice, likes the bits. ‘Hello?’

‘OK, but when have you ever seen a queer girl in the wild?’

‘That sounds like a cheap porno and when the hell have you ever seen a queer guy in the wild? It being a small town just means everyone is quiet and…’ He gestures with the glass. ‘Repressed.’

‘There aren’t even any gay clubs here.’

‘We could go to the city.’

‘But then it’ll just be like… a hookup! I can’t tell my Mom I’m a lesbian for a hookup!’

‘Babe,’ he says seriously. ‘There are queer girls here in Hawkins, OK? I guaran-fucking-tee it.’

‘What if I never meet one?’

‘You will.’

‘When?’

‘OK, seriously, you wanna do this? Because we’ll do this.’

She rolls onto her back. ‘I wanna do it. I wanna find someone. I want to kiss somebody. I want somebody to kiss me like Eddie kissed you in the hall.’

‘Were you—?’

‘I had to pee and you were right there, not my fault.’

He chuckles fondly. ‘Perv.’

‘Oh sure, I’m the pervert, not Eddie pushing you through my Mom’s wallpaper, huh?’

‘That was pretty tame.’

‘See?’ She wrinkles her nose. ‘I want that. But with a pretty girl.’

‘All right, you asked for it, we’re officially on a mission, starting right now.’

Robin beams. ‘Really?’

He strokes her hair some more, finishes his juice.

‘Absolutely. I’ve got a real instinct for these things too, OK? So you can trust me.’

‘You mean like when you didn’t think Eddie liked you back and you also didn’t realise you could be queer because you liked girls too?’

‘Uh, excuse me, do you want my help or not?’

‘I want your help, but like, maybe Eddie’s too.’

[etherealkieren]

a (somewhat loose) interpretation of the stobin month day 5 promt monster/ghost hunters 💕💖

[fard0wsa]

ahh my heart

#We all need a platonic soulmate like Steve 

[hotluncheddie]

Do you think there would be a difference in how much Robin knows about Steve's kinks, depending on whether it's Steve or Eddie growing a belly?

oh man, i think there would be and i dunno if he'd ever go into detail with her as in like, actually what goes down in like super detail. but i think she would definitely know enough, he would tell her if she ever asked questions and she definitely definitely knows they're obsessed with each other.

i guess with steve it might start with like, pointing out that he looks a little different, that he looks good, the weight suits him. and it does but more importantly she can see how happy he is. maybe she sees how eddies hand rests on his stomach when they cuddle on the couch, or how he likes to offer steve bites of his food if they're having different things for dinner. likes to get steve something sweet when they watch a movie, refilling whatever snack it is if he gets up to got to the bathroom. robin notices, she notices steves soft eyes and pleased smile. so she points out his weight gently, kindly, says 'you like it don't you.' just to see him nod, 'its weird isn't it?' but again she remembers his smile, the ease of his laugh these days. 'nah.'... but he's still her best friend and that gives her the right to poke him and smile, sharp and teasing, 'and eddie likes it too, really likes it.' just to see him blush, cover his face, maybe pace around or wriggle where they're laid out on her bed. say 'yeah', answer if she asks for details, says how good it all feels, the kissing, the food, how eddie fucks him so dee- 'yep okay! i don't want details actually.' and they'll both laugh, and she'll look at him, her best friend, her soulmate, body a little different but she loves him so much. loves how happiness looks on him.

with eddie it'd be a little different, but she's notice, eddie is her friend too. she see him soften, eat a little more, that kind of thing. but more so, mainly, she'd notice the way steve notices eddie. watch him follow eddie with his eyes, sometimes a little dark, sometimes achingly soft. she'd see them sneak off, eddie pulling steve by the hand, steve slipping his hand into eddies back pocket. she once caught them mid makeout, eddie pushing steve agains the wall with his bulk, in a way that made so much sense, she knew what he liked in bed, this was just another piece of the puzzle that was steve harrington. (she noticed all that before squawking and covering her eyes, telling them to knock it off. all of them ending up with the giggles.) she points it out one day, steve with his head rested in his palm, watching eddie move around and then fall heavily onto the couch, right after finishing the meal steve cooked him. 'eddies getting bigger.' she'd say, no judgment, no care, he looks good. and steve, he just sights, loved up and dopey, 'yeah.' he'd said, all dreamy and she smiles, loves them so much, so happy for her best friend... but she still shares an apartment with them, can't have them get too comfortable. 'im gonna head to bed, sex on the couch is still banned.' and steve balks at her, but then he smiles, because he knows she'll love him no matter what. no matter what him and his freaky boyfriend get up to. it'll never change them.

<3

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 3/3 | beta @stevesjockstrap 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider by me | Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

He knows he has to tell Chrissy as soon as possible, but she'll have to wait. There's someone else he has to go through first. 

He kicks off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, and accepts his fate.

"So, not a word, but I got a new tattoo."

Wayne turns away from the TV, raising one bushy eyebrow at his nephew.

"Thought you were playing DnD today."

Eddie nods his head, sways on the balls of his feet, and sighs. 

"I was," he admits, and holds his hand up, palm facing his uncle. 

He observes in real time as the realization hits his beloved relative and an infuriating grin spreads on his face.

"I said not a word!"

"I'm not saying anything." Wayne raises his hands innocently, the satisfied grin on his face making his wrinkles contort in joy.

"I gotta call Chris," Eddie grumbles, making a beeline for the phone. His uncle's amused gaze doesn't leave him for a second.

Chrissy is, needless to say, ecstatic. She makes plans to get ready together faster than he can explain the situation. It ends with him digging deep into his wardrobe the next day. 

"I don't have any good jeans!" he exclaims, showing his friend another pair. 

"Well, I want to see all of them anyway, so I can choose the ones that give you at least an illusion of an ass," she explains patiently, sitting on his bed and doing nothing else but judging.

"Rude," he murmurs, but he's aware his ass is as flat as a wooden plank so he doesn't argue. "What if he's a platonic soulmate too? What if I'm misinterpreting things again?"

"Please don't remind me." Chrissy shudders and Eddie makes a face of his own. When they first found each other, there were a couple of unsuccessful attempts at kissing before they realized they were strictly platonic. "Then he'll have to fight me because I'm not sharing. He already has his platonic soulmate, we're all due for some action."

"You know, as much as I know you," Eddie says, pulling out another pair of pants from under a pile of winter clothes. "It never ceases to amaze me how nasty you are."

"You're nasty," she throws back. "Now put these on, I wanna see some ass."

His outfit looks the same as always, with a couple of minuscule differences Chrissy insists are making a change. His pants are charcoal, not black, and his ass is almost noticeable in them, and his shirt is one of the shorter ones. If he moves his arms the right way, a sliver of his stomach will show. He barely wins the battle for his hair, though.

"We can't have the same hair!" he protests when she describes what she wants to do - a ponytail with some loose strands. She pouts, with torture devices already in hand: a brush and a scrunchie.

"I'll let my hair loose," she offers, surprising him. She always complains about hair getting in her face when it's not tied back.

"You're that determined, huh?"

She nods her head furiously.

"Fine," he sighs. "Do your worst."

In the end, he doesn't look bad, but also not exactly like he tried. Just a cleaner version of his daily look. He gets a stink eye from his friend when he throws a leather jacket over it but she doesn't say anything. She knows he doesn't have many to choose from. 

They drive to the mall, where they are planning to grab ice cream before going to the cinema. When the pairs spot each other at the entrance, Steve seems to take extra joy in waving to Eddie. The dice on his palm rattles and so does Eddie's when he waves back. They both land on twenties. 

Despite it all starting because of the girls, it was their first official hang-out together, so the boys hung back to give them some space. And to observe the intense stare Robin was giving Chrissy's hand, like she was too overwhelmed to touch it. Eddie could tell that Steve was barely holding back a laugh.

"What are we seeing," Eddie asks when Steve wins the fight at the register and pays for his chocolate cone.

"Some comedy about aliens. Or, there's also a romcom we can switch to."

"Nah." Both Robin and Eddie stick out their tongues with disgust.

"Well, sci-fi comedy it is."

They chat a bit at the ice cream place, mostly watching Robin and Chrissy's attempts at flirting, before moving on to the ticket booth. When Steve asks for two double seats away from each other, something must show on Eddie's face, because Steve smirks at him.

"For privacy," he says, reaching out to gently trace the outside of his hand with his fingers. 

Eddie has to be pushed towards the theatre after that, too floored to move. He panics a little when separated from his soulmate, who is too engrossed in her crush to even notice. 

"Hey." Steve tugs gently on the cuff of his jacket. "Relax, I'm not going to eat you. I won't even touch you if you don't want me to." He seems disappointed by that prospect but his tone is soft and genuine. Eddie knows he can trust him so he twists his wrist to squeeze his hand gently.

"It's okay. I'm just still a little surprised by it, is all," he reassures him. 

"Okay." Steve squeezes back. "Just tell me if I'm too much."

"Sure." 

He doesn't have to say anything, because he can barely sense his presence next to him. Other than them putting up the armrest to press their shoulders together, and Steve brushing against his hand from time to time, he doesn't press further. Eddie, though, is getting antsy, and having Steve next to him proves to be just a part of this problem. Halfway through the movie, he leans closer to his companion.

"You're never picking the movie again."

Steve groans quietly. It sounds like he's relieved.

"I know, I'm sorry," he admits his mistake. "It looked good in the trailer."

"They are supposed to look good." Eddie points out. "Wanna leave?"

Steve hesitates. They both look at where their friends are sitting. The girls are leaning towards each other though facing the screen, probably roasting the movie to shreds.

"They seem fine, I guess," Steve reluctantly agrees. Eddie stands up without further prompting and gently leads him through the dark, down the steps, and to the exit.

The light in the hall blinds them for a second but Eddie doesn't drop his hand, half-blindly pushing forward.

"Gotta use the bathroom. Then we can grab a bite or something."

"We should wait for the lovebirds," Steve protests. 

Eddie rolls his head to the side, not sharing the sentiment.

"I don't know, they seem fine without us."

"But it's a double date," Steve presses. 

"Okay Harrington, we can just hang around the mall I guess. Until that sad excuse of a movie ends." He gives in, shaking his head. 

Steve seems happy with getting his way, which weirdly makes Eddie feel the same. 

They ease their grip on each other only when they reach the bathroom. Without a word they enter stalls far away from each other, figuring the urinals would make it too awkward. When they are washing their hands minutes later, Steve gives him a grin through the mirror.

"We have the bathroom all to ourselves, you know?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, something in his gust twisting with nervous anticipation.

"Yeah? You wanna murder me or something?"

"Uh, no?" Steve's smile falls. "I just— Sorry, that was stupid. Forget I said anything," he sighs, threading his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. 

Eddie turns sideways to face him, his hip digging into the sink.

"You know, Chris and I tried dating for like a week after we found out. Kissing her felt wrong, like I was kissing my sister, but we were both convinced we were interested in each other like that."

Steve makes a face.

"Yeah, I was so sure I had a crush on Robin for a while. But then she said she's strictly into girls and we quickly realized we're twins separated at birth." He smiles. "So I uh, understand why you'd want to feel things out first." He nods.

But Eddie bites his cheek.

"That is the opposite of what I'm saying."

Steve cocks his head, brows furrowed. He has mirrored Eddie's stance, leaning against the sink.

"What are you saying?"

"Yeah, I do wanna feel things out, but I think kissing would be most efficient."

Steve doesn't hide the smile that grows on his face. Eddie bristles at that, mostly from anxiety and embarrassment. He chuckles nervously.

"Okay, your excitement scares me a bit. You really wanna kiss me that bad?"

"I don't think you realize how kissable you are." Steve shifts a bit like he's getting ready to pounce. "Can I?"

"Be my guest." Eddie waves his hand and straightens up himself, his minimal experience making him unsure of the proceedings.

He's expecting a straightforward kiss, but it's not what he gets. Steve slides closer, his heavy hand landing on his side. His face is right there, but instead of his lips, there is a feather-light touch on his nose, where Steve gently traces it with the tip of his own, inhaling his skin. Eddie breathes softly and okay holy shit there goes the first soft peck on his lips. Then another. And two more, until he's softly murmuring "Stop teasing" against them, prompting Steve to capture his lips in a proper kiss. 

There's nothing of the confusion from his kisses with Chrissy. This time the emotions are easy to pinpoint and decipher. They grow like an itch at the tips of his fingers, eager to touch, and he indulges by wrapping his arms around the man in front of him. They take a couple of wobbly steps towards the wall until Eddie can comfortably lean against it, trapped between cold tiles and Steve's warm body.

"Does it feel platonic?" Steve leans back to ask, his hand sneaking under his jacket to slide over his hip, scorching hot without the thick layer of leather.

"My dick says no," Eddie answers, making Steve snicker.

"Well, my dick agrees with yours."

They look into each other's eyes, a new form of understanding weaving between them, a bond more complex than the matching tattoos on their palms. They are each other's and there is nothing platonic about it.

Eddie muffles an unsexy sound of laughter, held back in his throat. Steve's lip wobbles.

"Maybe they should touch, they might be soulmates too."

The dam bursts, and they start laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my god," Steve wheezes out, leaning heavily on Eddie. "You're so stupid."

"You're stupid," Eddie counters between laughs, shoving him before wrapping his arms back around him. Their tight embrace is the only thing holding them up while they laugh against each other.

They barely register the sound of the door opening, but catch the movement with the corners of their eyes. They turn in unison and spot a guy, frozen in shock by the sight of them: two guys holding one another up in a fit of laughter. The three men look at each other in silence, until Eddie squeaks and it starts all over. The man runs into the stall furthest away.

Eddie shoves Steve away, and Steve shoves back. They start a half-hearted slapfight until Steve catches his right hand, the one with the tattoo, and kisses the inside of his palm. Eddie's eyes go wide.

Steve grins and skips out of the bathroom.

"Hey!" Eddie calls after him, quickly following. "Not fair!"

The girls find them lounging on the sofas in front of the theatre, poking each other with Twizzlers. Or maybe feeding each other. The scene is unclear, but the wide smiles on the men's faces are unmistakable.

"Twizzler?" Steve offers to his soulmate while poking Eddie's cheek with the candy. The man catches it with his teeth and tries to pull it from his grasp.

"Sure, thanks." Robin grabs one from the pack without batting an eye. "I get it the date was a success?"

"Was yours?" Eddie asks back, looking at Chrissy with a Twizzler hanging from his mouth.

"Yeah." She grins, hip-checking Robin. 

The girl blushes, chewing on her candy intensely. She's avoiding Steve's gaze but his stare only intensifies. He's basically peeling his eyelids back to burn a hole in her forehead with his eyes only.

"Did you guys kisssss?"

"Robin. Robin. ROBIN. Don't ignore me."

"I know you can hear me. ROBIN!"

She flinches when he mentally yells at her and he raises an eyebrow now that he has her attention. She glares at him.

"We did. Did you?"

He smiles smugly.

"Duh."

She snorts.

The exchange doesn't go unnoticed by their other soulmates.

"What was that about?" Chrissy asks first with a frown. But before any of them can answer, Eddie suddenly grips Steve's knee.

"Holy shit!"

Steve looks at him. Eddie's eyes are wide and full of awe, which is becoming his favorite expression on the man. 

"Can you read each other's minds?!"

"Uh, yeah," Steve admits, suddenly sheepish about the ability he's been so happy to have. And which impressed the little nerds to no end. And the big nerd too, apparently. If the way he started shaking his knee was anything to go by.

"Steve! My man! My soul!" Steve can't help but laugh at his exaggerated antics. "Magic tattoo? Mind reading? What other freaky shit can you do?"

"Well, the mind reading is more Robin than me..."

"Still!"

"...and the other freaky shit I don't show on the first date." He grins cheekily. 

Eddie's mind goes blank for a second, his excitement freezing as he reboots and processes what he just heard. Steve's grin only widens. He might like this reaction even better. 

Robin makes a retching sound, as she does, so he flips her the bird, as he does. Chrissy, though, has an evil smile that lets him know she'll be a great co-schemer in making Eddie squirm.

"Uh-huh." Eddie's mind has rebooted by now, so he looks back to him. "Next date when, then?" he asks. He tries not to look too eager but fails miserably. 

"I'm free tomorrow?"

"Perfect." Eddie grins at him. Steve picks his hand up from his knee and gives the tattoo there a gentle kiss. He bites back a smile at the soft gesture. 

"Do you guys have any soulmate abilities?" Robin asks, always the mood ruiner. She makes another dive for the candy and Steve lets her have the bag. He'd rather hold Eddie's hands anyway. They're a bit sticky from the Twizzler fight, but he doesn't mind. Maybe he should lick them clean...

"Well..." Chrissy trails off, and it immediately picks up his curiosity. 

"Don't say it," Eddie hisses at her, eyes narrowed. She shrugs with a teasing smile.

"They're gonna find out anyway. Besides," she pouts and gives him her best puppy eyes. (Steve is very impressed, after all, game recognizes game.) "Are you ashamed of our bond?"

Eddie seethes. 

"I fucking hate you," he says, but doesn't stop her from saying what she wants to. He just looks away and Steve observes his cheeks going progressively redder. 

"Eddie knows my cheering routine by heart."

Eddie makes a displeased sound in his throat and refuses to look back at him. 

"Really?" Robin sounds impressed. "So you guys can perform together?"

"Yup. And we do. My cheer squad fucking hates it."

Steve can't help but imagine him among the cheerleaders, in a matching dress. It would show off most of his hairy thighs, and his long legs. He'd have to tie his hair up like today so they don't go in the way while he's jumping and cheering for Steve's team, pompom's shaking, skirt flipping up when he spins—

"Where the fuck did your mind just go?" Eddie's voice brings him back to reality. His face is still red, but his eyes are now narrowed in an attempt to look threatening. 

"Can I see it?" he asks in lieu of an answer, though it's probably enough to clue him in. "In a cheer outfit, preferably?"

Eddie starts to sputter out protests, but Chrissy grins mischievously at Steve. 

"I can make that happen."

He knew he was going to love her. 

[infinite-orangepeel]

stobin excerpt from its rotten work (loving a heart like mine)

What did you do? What the fuck did you do?

She’d screamed loud as a banshee–kept him awake and alive with the volume–as Russian expletives were spat right back into her beautiful face, as rough hands groped her sides. Tawny freckles splattered with his blood and hers–refusing to let go. Refusing to flee.

The best friend he’d ever had.

He’d realized it as his chin was met with another kick from a steel-toed military boot. Blood everywhere, thick and sticky like the hot fudge they served on banana splits behind the counter. Two months scooping ice scream and this girl–this girl he’d spent years passing and ignoring in the halls of Hawkins High–was ready to lay down and die for him. Promised to protect him no matter what. Distracted him with stories of far off places–her bedroom, marching band practice, a trip to her grandma’s house in Florida.

She had his heart, she had his soul dripping red in her hands–coloring the tops of her starched white knee socks. He promised to buy her new ones at any store she wanted–anywhere in the mall if the thing was still standing, if they were.

Don’t touch him! Don’t you dare touch him! Take me instead! Let him go! Let him go!

And, if he hadn’t been paralyzed by the Russian chemical evil coursing through his veins, he would have been begging for the same exchange. His life for hers. Knew he didn’t deserve that type of sacrifice. Didn’t deserve her kindness.

Robin–the girl with the freckles, the girl who liked girls, the girl with a sweet tooth, the girl with fire in her heart.

Even as the tranquilizer entered her bloodstream–she fought for him, was willing to die for him. Didn’t think twice.

It had almost been the end for both of them.

Almost.

[sllooney]

One of my favorite episodes, hands down! Top 3 for me Keith!

ROBIN BUCKLEY & STEVE HARRINGTON — Season Three, Episode Seven: The Bite

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

1 2 3 (can also be read as a standalone)

my awesome steve playlist ; Ao3

STEVE LOOKS AT HIS BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND THINKS FUCK IT

(ft. the beginnings of a beautiful friendship and shitting on the school dress code)

Steve has always been fascinated by the act of creating.

His father is a very strict and traditional man. Everything has a specific way it ought to be, and anything that deviates from this fixed set of beliefs is simply wrong. (No, don't go into the kitchen, Stephen. Why do you need so long to get ready, Stephen. This type of music isn't fit for a Harrington, Stephen.)

He finds it kind of ironic. According to the bible, Eve was created from Adam's rib. And yet, according to his father, it is only the woman that creates. It is the woman who creates homemade meals for the rest of the family. It is the woman who creates tales and stories to put the children to sleep. It is the woman who creates patterns and fabric and clothing out of loose textiles and yarn.

Steve isn't completely sure what the man is supposed to do. When his father is home, he mostly disappears in his study or watches TV. (Steve finds it kind of sad)

He supposes he should be grateful that his father is always so eager to leave. Maybe he would have convinced Steve of this trist world he seems to live in if he had had more time to whisper it into his ears. But as things are, Steve loves to create. It soothes something deep in his soul to watch his weird little trauma-bonded ragtag group of kids engorge themselves on a meal that he created. (And Hopper. Nobody appreciates his cooking more than Hopper.) It makes him feel in peace with himself to start his day by fertilizing and watering and occasionally repotting his plants. (The Golden Girls seem to be particularly effective in that regard). It makes him feel accomplished to see his babies thriving and growing, a visible proof of being needed. It makes him feel more comfortable in his own skin to be able to create a more genuine version of himself - with his face as his canvas - one he can somewhat recognize in the mirror.

He'd like to say that he managed to free himself of most prejudices his father somewhat attempted to breed into him by the time he is slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy! . (To say that his father tried his hardest when it came to anything regarding his family would be a gross overstatement.)

--

Steve had not been a good student.

First he threw meaningless party after meaningless party in an attempt to fill all the empty space his parents left behind.

Then he got together with Nancy, and he had never studied more. Which would've been great, if something about her learning style didn't just refuse to work with him. All the stupid facts he needed to know just didn't want to get into his head (he was trying, okay?! He tried to explain it to Nancy when she said that he was smart and just had to "apply himself more". But "this is just too boring" sounds like a weak excuse even to his own ears. And he really tries to be less lazy, everyone else seems to manage it just fine, but he just can't do it.

He leaned into it after a while. Pretended to be more dumb and oblivious and obtuse than he really is. Because then it wouldn't be his fault. It would be something outside of his control. Bad genes or just rotten luck.

It hurt a bit, how easily people believed him. And you know what they say, if you hear something often enough....)

And after that he was a bit too busy being terrified 24/7 and trying to deal with the aftermath of multiple concussions on his own. He was honestly surprised that he actually managed to graduate, half-expected to become another Eddie Munson.

That is all to say that you really don't have to be fucking Einstein to realize that skimpy sailor clothing that barely manages to cover your butt does not mesh well with ice cream that needs to be kept in negative temperatures at all times. But Scoops Ahoy! would need to actually care about its employees to change something about it, which - especially with communists and socialists and whatnot hiding in every corner wanting nothing more than to destroy America or something - was not very likely. To say the least.

--

One day Steve wakes up with a running nose and an itch in the back of his throat. It is not enough to call in sick, but it is enough for him to think fuck it and bundle up in a scarf and a cashmere jacket that actually belongs to his mother (it is ridiculously soft and it matches to the rest of the outfit so leave him alone, okay?!). As long as he is still wearing the stupid sailor's hat management can't complain.

Or that is what he thinks. Until his boss decides that today of all days is a great day to go to the mall, another jackass (that he is going to kill very slowly and painfully) loudly complains about the extra layers (THAT HE IS WEARING SO HE WON'T BECOME SICK AND THUS BE ABLE TO WORK MORE?!), and boss takes that as his cue to stomp into Scoops and loudly lecture him about "branding" and "marketability" and "wasted assets". Of course the universe decides that right now is not the absolutely perfect time to make a Demogorgon appear that releases everyone present from their misery. He barely has left the shop again when Robin is already laughing so hard she has to take her break earlier.

The next time he looks at the damned board there is another point under the "you suck" column. He argues that he should get one in the "you rule" category simply because someone looked at him in this horrible horrible uniform and thought that hiding all this was enough of a crime to literally complain to his boss. He must be a truly pitiful sight because she eventually relents.

--

Here is the thing about Robin. She is funny. She is snarky. She knew who he was in Highschool - hell, she was part of the group he used to terrorize for no reason - but she doesn't hold it against him. Sure, she will make fun of him and the "you suck" - game (which he insists should be renamed to the "you rule" - game) certainly wasn't his idea. But it doesn't feel angry or malicious. At least not anymore. Sure, her only way of communication seems to be bad jokes at his expense and she doesn't really notice when she occasionally crosses a line. But it still somehow feels like she is laughing with and not at him. (Maybe it helps that she makes self-deprecating jokes about herself as well.)

But the best part is how he doesn't disappoint her. You can't let someone down who has no expectations in you on the first place, though she manages it in a way that doesn't feel like a weight in his chest like it does with his parents.

He loves Nance (even though he thinks he is finally starting to fall out of love with her), but she never quite could hide her disappointment when weeks of studying together ended up in an average grade at best. And the little shitheads, god bless them. He knows they don't do it on purpose and that he is just being too sensitive, especially because he himself does nothing to convince them of the opposite, but it kind of stings when literal newborns who will probably get scholarships to ivy league in the future keep calling him stupid. It is, admittedly, pretty demeaning.

With Robin, there is none of that. Sure, she has better grades than him (not that that is particularly hard) and will probably be able to get out of this hellish place when she graduates, but for now they are both working at a dead-end customer-service and extenuating circumstances like those tend to bind people together. He would know. An angry customer can be scarily similar to a literal demogorgon.

--

The next day his nose is still running and his throat is still hurting and he seriously considers coughing into their sortiment as a rebellion of sorts more than once. Robin, of course, is having the time of her life.

"It's like the opposite of the school dress code", she jokes. "Don't you dare hide too much skin, young man, or you won't distract the potential customers!" He snorts at her exaggerated and yet eerily accurate imitation of their boss.

Then he has an idea. "Ooohhh, I know this face" Robin sinsongs rubbing her hands together. "This is your 'I'm going to do something stupid' face. You wear it concerningly often."

"Correction, Buckley. You are going to help me, and we are going to do something stupid. Together. It's not very patriotic to abandon your brother in arms in the trenches like that, you know."

She takes a sceptical look at their tiny shop. "Don't take it personally. But if there was a war. And our country was this Scoops Ahoy. I would rather join the dark side than help my brother-in-arms"

"You mean you would rather murder me than", he takes a significant look to the freezer hidden in the back, "chill with me here?!". She punches him (Robin is surprisingly strong for someone with such noodle arms), and sighs deeply in a way only underpaid customer-service-workers can relate to when a group of teenagers crowds the counter. Steve can't help his smug little smirk as they serve the group together and knows it is taking Buckley everything she has not to punt him in the face. She is totally going to be an idiot with him.

--

They need a second whiteboard, but Robin refuses to let the "you suck"-game go, so they pool their money together and buy the cheapest one they can find.

The first step is easy: Robin needs to find out all the dress code rules in Hawkins High and write them on their new board.

Then it is Steve's time to get to work.

--

Experiment #1: Fingertip Rule

"The length of skirts, skorts, and shorts must extend below the student's fingertips when the student's arms are extended at his/her sides."

"Soooo.....am I just going to have to find like....massive socks."

They stare at each other.

Steve raises one of his brows (he is proud of that one). Robin blows him a Raspberry. Steve bites his lower lip to stop himself from smiling. Robin is the first to break, this time. She bursts out laughing. He consoles himself with the thought that at least he won their little stare contest. Plus, with a big of luck and tigh-high socks, maybe this annoying not-quite-cold will finally go away.

--

The worst part of having completely cutt off contact with everyone in his grade is that he has nothing to do. Everyone he would be willing to spend time with is in fucking school so he has the whole fucking morning to do lots of big old nothings.

So maybe he had an ulterior motive when he suggested this little experiment. One that had nothing to do with a sore throat or a running nose. (He suspects that Robin is aware of that, too. But for once in her life she actually knows when to shut up, so whatever.)

That day he drives out of the parking lot and turns his beloved car in the opposite direction of his home. Sure, he could buy the yarn and the sewing supplies in Hawkins, and his father probably wasn't planning on going to that particular shop anytime soon. But Steve has nothing but time and it is always better to be safe rather than sorry. (Which is also why he always carries a bat full of nails in his trunk.)

It is only when he is already halfway there that he remembers that he is still wearing that stupid fucking uniform. Fuck. But it's okay. It's fine. He just can't let Robin find out that he forgot to take it off and had to actually interact with real people (they've decided pretty early on that customers don't count as those) while wearing it. The only worse thing would be to admit defeat and drive all the way back only to change clothes. Like, he doesn't really have standards or self-respect anymore, but that is a bit pathetic even for him.

And how good a decision that ended up being. As soon as he enters the girl at the counter gives him an appreciative once-over. He brushes away some of his hair almost on autopilot. He isn't sure what about sailor-themed polyester seems to work with so many people, but he sure isn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Steve Harrington may not be very good in a great many things, but one thing he can do well is people. He is good at assessing other's intentions, knows how to be charming or how to subtly suggest an idea (manipulation is such a strong word) and project a certain image. He wasn't called the King for nothing, after all.

He stays way longer than he initially intended, but he is pretty sure the girl gave him a bit of a discount, plus she actually taught him the basics of knitting, so he is not going to complain. (At first she thought it was his way to get closer to her, but about five minutes in she realized he was way too intense about it for it to be solely that). So maybe he actually will be telling Robin of his little mishap so she has no choice but to give him another point in the "you rule" column.

The next day, for the first time in what feels like an eternity (he and time have always had a complicated relationship), he does not start his day sitting his butt in front of the TV boring himself to death until it is time to go to work.

Well, that is a lie. He does sit on his sofa the whole time. And he does have the TV on for some background noise. But instead of flipping through channels until he finds something he can at least pretend to be somewhat interested in, he takes everything he bought yesterday afternoon and starts knitting.

Or well, to say that he immediately started knitting would perhaps also not be too accurate. First he stares at the newly-bought yarn for who knows how long trying to decide on a color. His petty petty heart is begging for him to use the orange that clashes horribly with the navy blue of the uniform, but at the same time he should probably not immediately start with the worst possible combination, no matter how much he may want to. Instead, after a frankly embarrassing amount of contemplation, he decides to start with the red. It fits with the accents, and the blue doesn't become too overpowering. Then he begins. For real this time.

Or well. He tries. Turns out knitting is much more complicated when you don't have a cute girl next to you to correct you when you mess up. By the time he has to go to work, he has achieved a whole lot of nothing. (He had been pretty proud of his little square until he noticed that something was wrong and it was lopsided and weird and he couldn't exactly pinpoint it but it was bothering him so he undid all his progress and then had to run to his car when he realized he was already late for work.)

When he arrives he is out of breath and his hair more disheveled than he would normally allow, but he is also only ten minutes late and wasn't stopped by the police for speeding so he sees it as a win. He starts questioning his assertion when his lovely co-worker raises both her eyebrows, quirking her lips (She can't raise just one, which is half the reason why he does it). He follows her gaze.

"Hey, you can't expect me to finish two tigh-high socks in less than a day."

"I'm not looking at you inexistent socks, dingus"

"Interesting fashion choices, your majesty. Got your panties in a twist?"

Steve looks at Eddie Munson who seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Steve looks down. Steve sees that in his hurry he accidentally put his shorts on the wrong way around. Steve lets out a deep deep sigh.

--

The nice girl (he swears it was something starting with 'H'. Heather? Hannah?) said that she needs about three days for a pair of socks. Considering that, Steve doesn't think his one week is too shabby.

Of course, stupid innocent soul that he was, he once again managed to destroy all his work by letting it shrink in the wash. She (Helena? Hayley?) really hadn't been exaggerating when she said that knitting is at least as much unmaking as actually creating.

--

Six days later he arrives at Scoops on time for the first time in a week. (It had become personal, okay?! Not his fault time decided to fuck with him specifically for some ungodly reason)

He can see the exact moment Robin sees the high socks that go exactly as high as his fingertips reach - her mouth actually falls open. Her eyes widen further into an honestly comedic degree when he takes out the pair that had shrunken while washing.

"Buckley up", he says, finding himself very funny. "Brothers in arms, remember?"

Steve isn't sure if he should consider himself lucky or despair when their beloved boss actually graces them with his presence. Sure, all this had originally started as a way to see how much clothing is too much clothing according to the higher-ups. But his socks took a lot of work and it is very refreshing (ha!) not to have to freeze his legs off for multiple hours.

He takes a look at their whole fit and turns to Steve. "Harrington, didn't we already have this conversation less than a month ago?"

"While, yes, it may seem like that", Robin interrupts, manager always having had a noticeable preference towards her for some reason, "this actually doesn't conceal any of the important bits." Both visibly wince at that last part. She points towards the sliver of skin between where his shorts end and his socks begin. "According to school dress code, this is plenty distracting. You wouldn't disagree with the school principal who is responsible for the education of literally the entire town, right sir?"

At seeing the skepsis in his gaze Steve quickly intervenes. "Plus, I mean, the customers can barely see it anyway. You know, because we are standing behind the counter. So it doesn't make that big of a difference. And I'm still a bit sick". He coughs for good measure.

The boss looks at both of them with raised brows (Steve admittedly feels a sense of superiority at knowing his boss also can't raise only one like he can) and a long-suffering look as if he were the one who can look forward to two more hours of customer service. For a second Steve is absolutely sure that because of this idiotic little joke he and Robin are going to be fired on the spot. Instead he lets out a long deep sigh and nods in defeat before leaving them alone.

Robin immediately goes for the high-five. "Oh my god this was so great. Did you see his face?! Like-" , she makes a face that looks nothing like his had "Oh my god. I can't wait for the second experiment. This is going to be so much fun!"

This time it is Steve's turn to look at her incredulously. Maybe Robin is part of the group of degenerate people his father always warned him about.

--

Experiment #2: Hosiery Rule

"tights, leggings, or other types of hosiery must be accompanied by a fingertip length or longer top or dress."

The second their boss's eyes had narrowed at the sight of his socks, Steve had decided that he had enough. He actually needed this job - not in the least because he would probably die from boredom, and who would be there to protect the kids then?

But he hadn't counted on Robin's delight at sucking it up to the school dress code (even if nobody AT school knows of their nefarious deeds) and by the time the shift was over she had somehow convinced him to wear tight leggings instead of the demanded shorts. "The more see-through the better", were her exact words. At least he managed to stop her from going straight to the shoulder rule - he wasn't sure he was ready to destroy one of the uniforms he'd had to pay out of own pocket for this little game of theirs.

So as soon as Steve gets home he goes to the first guest room (he isn't sure what fight had had her barging into the bathroom with tears in her eyes years ago, but his parents hadn't slept in the same bed since. The only reason it is still called the "guest room" and not "his mother's room" is because married couples don't do that. Apparently. If that is what a marriage looks like, Steve would rather stay single forever. And why had he come here again? Oh, yeah. Leggings.

He approaches her drawers and prays that she has left behind at least one pair of yoga pants. He refuses to actually spend money because of this bullshit. (Okay, maybe that isn't strictly true. Because even worse than wasting money on a stupid pair he will only wear once and could possibly get him fired is the thought of Robin being mad or disappointed at him.)

Not for the first time he thinks that his mother must have had a wild past she never talks about. If he had to describe the woman in one word it would be classy. Her posture is always as straight as a flight attendant's or a model's. Her wardrobe consists of muted whites and creams. Maybe the occasional black if she is feeling especially bold. Her jewelry is always small but tasteful ("if it's too big, it's tacky. It makes you look desperate to prove something or to flaunt your wealth"). Her makeup, just like everything else, is elegant and purposeful. Classy.

But then El rummaged through her makeup drawers and somehow found a bold black eyeshadow palette with a cracked mirror (his mother is always very careful with her belongings). Or her son will to through her clothes in an attempt to find a pair of see-through skin-tight leggings that fit him and the only pair he can find is a truly abhorrent screaming orange.

He remembers how he considered making the socks orange to clash with the uniform and just barely stops himself from hitting his head against the wall. Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. Good one universe or god or whoever the fuck.

--

The next day he goes to work wearing the fucking horrible leggings. Robin does not look appreciatively enough of his sacrifice, which is probably because he knew he would never be able to step out of his car if he didn't cover it with some black jeans, at least on his way over to Scoops.

She understands his debacle when he goes to the back to take off his normal and socially acceptable pants and comes out wearing that thing he still can't believe he actually found in his mother's closet. Easy for her to laugh, considering her nice and non-offensive navy blue pair. She went through with her own advice and one can clearly see where her underwear begins. Steve is pretty sure that it is in no way appropriate to make fun of that. But Robin makes jokes about how he is never going to amount to anything and he is STILL wearing the worst clothes he has ever laid his eyes on for her, so he thinks he has earned the right. As expected, she punches him in the arm and screams at him for looking. (Never mind that he wasn't, it is just pretty impossible to ignore, okay?!) She wants to put on the extra shorts she started storing here after she accidentally let a huge ice cream cone with fudge and sprinkles fall on her and had to finish the rest of her shift with sticky clothes - yes, Steve did obviously make inappropriate jokes about that, although not nearly as many as he would today. He reminds her that the entire reason they are doing this is to be inappropriate, and that if she can cover her old grandma undergarments (Hey, I want to see you stand around for over an hour wearing fucking lingerie, asshole) he can take off the orange eyesore he put on JUST FOR HER. A bit of pleading (he is not going to be the only embarrassed one today if it kills him) and they are both standing uncomfortably and trying to laugh it off when the tenth customer takes a judgemental look at their legs (if not an outright comment, thank you Tommy and Eddie.)

Steve doesn't try flirting with every cute girl that comes around and can confidently say that he has never felt less sexy in his life (and that is saying something, considering he has had a concerning amount of injuries and near-death experiences over the last two years). Robin decides to put the "You suck"- game on hold for one day because Steve argues that they should add a talley everytime she gets judged as well, and she can't find any convincing counter-arguments.

Things did not get much better when the boss came around. Steve is pretty sure Robin's whole underwear situation is the only reason they weren't fired on the spot. She looks approprietly grossed-out when he voices this thought.

If there is one positive thing about this whole experience, is that he has never felt so close to his coworker as today. Trauma truly is a hell of a bonding experience.

--

Experiment #3 Pyjamas:

"Hawkins High includes pajamas in the category of provocative clothing"

"We are not doing this."

"Yeah, no"

...

"Do you like, sleep in lingerie or something? like, why would pajamas-?!"

--

Experiment #4: Shoulder Rule

"tops that have less than two fingers width of coverage on the shoulders are prohibited for any student, and shirts that are cut like A-style under shirts or beach wear can't be worn by boys."

Steve's cold is finally completely gone, but this whole experiment has stopped being about that weeks ago (if it ever truly was.)

After the humiliating incident that had been the day before, Steve and Robin were in complete agreement that there was absolutely no way they were going to stop their little game now and let the fucking mess that had been yesterday be in vain.

And so they have unanimously decided to cross the one line Steve had secretly sworn to leave untouched: mutilate their uniforms.

Now, they are both aware that that is their most radical move yet. And although some non-believers will vehemently deny it, Steve and Robin (well, mostly Steve to be honest) are aware that purposely provoking other people will sooner or later bite you in the ass (especially if those people are above you in the hierarchy). And so, for the next week, both wear their regulated uniforms. Their poor boss looks so relieved Steve almost confesses that this is only the calm before the storm.

"Why shoulders, though?"

They have decided that they can continue with their plan. Or, well, Steve had been so distracted with his new plant (he bought a bonsai that he named after Robin instead of the golden girls so he could have the satisfaction of cutting her branches when she'd been particularly annoying at work). And his parents had randomly come back for like a week and his mom had left a lot of new makeup releases behind, which of course meant that he had to experiment. Plus summer vacation started, and his unofficial and unpaid job as a chaffeur for a bunch of preschoolers with it. These same preschoolers also started bothering him at work more often, which meant: 1. Robin now had a lot more fuel to make his life hell, and 2. He'd been very lucky the kids hadn't been to the mall on leggings day.

Which means that Steve hadn't even started the modifications yet. But Robin only remembered to bring an extra shirt their next shift together, so like, they are both at fault here.

"Like, what about that particular arm region makes the teachers so horny?"

"Oh my god Steve ew! The code isn't- well, now that i think of mister Bernd, yeah. Wouldn't surprise me."

"I know. And I am so glad to be out of that place. So, a month sound good?"

"Hey. If you can finish it in half that time I will deal with the hard costumers AND willingly clean the really gross and sticky shit."

"I don't..."

"And you get another "you rule"-point. If I do get fired I want to have a bit of the vacations left, man."

"Okay alright, I'll do my best"

--

"STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE ST-"

"What the fuck you fucking menace what's wrong?!"

"WHAT DID HE SAY??"

Steve sighs. He is relieved to see Max spending so much time outside of the trailer but Jesus H. Christ. He carefully lets the needles that were previously residing more or less safely between his teeth fall on the table, makes absolutely sure that they are indeed on the table in front of him (cursed things must be from the upside down with how they keeps disappearing on him) and grabs for the walkie-talkie again.

"Lukas. Max. I said: What the fuck is wrong with you two? Care to answer in a normal volume, shitheads?"

"Where are you?"

"At home?? Where else would I be?!"

"Well, that is convenient!"

"What do you-"

"I don't know? You never have time anymore! I don't know what the fuck you keep doing all day?!"

"Language Max!"

There is a knock on the door. Convenient indeed. Steve sighs.

--

He manages to do it in one and a half weeks (he has found that knitting is very calming when the night is too dark and the memories feel too real)

At first he had wanted to try huge sleeves that swish when he moves his arm, but a) that would take even more time and b) it would fall into the ice cream and make a mess so he opted to make the already existing pattern in his handbook for beginners. Except with a hole where the shoulder is. And the blue also doesn't quite match the uniform. And Robin's arms a bit too skinny. So like, maybe it isn't perfect, but that isn't the point anyways. Nobody is perfect and shit.

The first people he knows who see him like this are Nancy and Jonathan. (They seem to be on a date. He is relieved when the realization doesn't hurt nearly as much as it once would have.) After the five longest minutes he has ever experienced, he is almost relieved when he sees their boss coming towards them. The relief quickly turns into terror when he sees the look on his face.

Robin follows his gaze. "Fuck." "Fuck indeed."

"Wait, you said that all this started because of the dress code bullshit, right?"

"Well, actually, it all started because some asshole out there is incredibly attracted to me-" Steve does not have time to finish his correct statement before the boss gets there.

"Buckley. Harrington. Why are you wearing-"

"Wow, Jonathan! Don't you think that Steve and Robin look absolutely dashing?"

"I- sure. They look... great. I definitely would not have come to Scoops Ahoy on this fine day if I hadn't seen their attractive....shoulders."

"Right? Where did you get those, Steve? I want to buy some, too!"

He has no time to see if their boss buys this extremely fake display before his heart stops in terror as he sees his kids stomping towards him. He tries to gesture for them to go away without his boss noticing. They purposefully misinterpret his flailing and walk faster.

"Hey Steve, what are you wearing?!"

"Yeah it looks so great doesn't it?", which prompts Mike to look at his sister as if she just murdered his puppy in front of him.

"Didn't these fresh new outfits make you want to eat ice cream more than ever before?" , Robin tries to salvage this complete dumpster fire.

Thankfully Jonathan and Will seem to have working sibling telepathy because the latter slowly nods. "Yes. I am never in more mood for ice cream than when my eyes are confronted with...long sleeves and...bony shoulders."

--

Somehow they actually manage to convince him. He isn't sure whether he really believed them (unlikely), he just got too tired of their shit (relatable) or just didn't want to do the extra work of finding someone else (which, understandable, but c'mon dude). Either way, what matters is that Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley remain with a steady (if meager) salary. Plus they had to swear to never pull such a stunt again, which Steve is honestly kind of relieved by.

Unfortunately this victory came at a cost: now the party knows he can knit.

"Hey grandma Steve! My sock has a hole. Can you fix it?"

"Hey Steve! Remember that apron we gave you when we found out you can actually cook? Wouldn't it be fair for you to knit costum shirts for us in return?"

"Hey Harrington. We've got this stray that sometimes wanders near our house and since you can apparently knit-"

--

When the Russians threatens to pull out his fingernails, his first thought is that he won't ever be able to finish the "Anti-Russia Squad" socks he was making for himself, Robin and Dustin.

--

When they are drugged out of their minds, Steve tells Robin he named a plant after her.

"Her name is Fuck You Motherfucking Robin Buckley Jesus H. Christ I Can't Stand You. Get it? Because then I don't actually insult you-

"You're just saying the name of the plant so technically you aren't cursing at me-"

"but at the same time i get it out of my chest!"

"oh my god i need a house plant so i can curse YOU without insulting you"

"rude but fair"

"except that i am so terrible at taking care of plants somehow they always...they always die"

(they are still crying half an hour later)

--

Steve's graduation present is a soulmates-sweater. One huge two people sweater. They wear it almost every day for like a month. (People keep assuming that they are dating which is really annoying because NO? THEY ARE BOTH VERY MUCH AVAILABLE?? Platonic with capital P? Why is that so hard to understand?)

[flowercrowngods]

the moment they sit down anywhere, steve and robin reach for the other to hold hands