#tommy hagan is bisexual

[hannahhook7744]

Love Is Patient, Love Is Kind;

Summary: Robin Buckley is not the 1st person to come out to Steve. Trigger warnings: Period typically homophobia, implied child abuse, secret keeping, and friends falling out.

This is a Tommy Hagan, Steve Harrington, and Robin Buckley friendship fic. Don't like, don't read.

Be kind in the comments.

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Ever since July 4th, 1984, Steve Harrington has been keeping a secret from his new BFF, Robin Buckley. 

One he planned to take to the grave. 

Because despite popular belief, Steve Harrington was not an idiot and knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Most of the time, anyway. 

And this was one of those times, because no one could ever know that Robin Buckley wasn't the first person to come out to him. Not even Robin herself. 

He wasn't keeping this secret because he didn't trust Robin. No, that wasn't it. That was never the reason. Would never be the reason he kept a secret from her because she was the first person in his life he had ever been able to fully trust since—

Since Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. 

And that was the problem.

Steve Harrington trusted Robin Buckley more than anyone else in the world and would tell her nearly everything that wasn't necessary to lie about. 

Nearly everything.

Because there was one thing that he could never tell anyone—not even Robin herself—because he knew that outing people wasn't cool. Even if it was outing them to someone who was also different.  

It wasn't safe or fair to do so.

 It was a breach of trust. 

Something you couldn't undo or take back. 

Something that would darken your soul even if you weren't close to the person you were doing it to. 

Which was exactly why Steve Harrington at 18 years old would never tell Robin Buckley that she wasn't the first person to ever come out to him.

Why he would never tell her that a drunken Tommy Hagan was. 

Because that would be betraying the promise he had made so many years ago to 13 year old Tommy Hagan. 

13 year old Tommy Hagan who had not yet hurt anyone and trusted him more than anyone else in the whole wide world. Who trusted him enough to tell him that he liked boys and girls, with tears in his eyes, when he didn't even trust his parents enough to do that. 

13 year old Tommy Hagan, who a 12 year old Steve Harrington had promised to take the secret to the grave if that was what Tommy wanted. Who Steve had promised to support in anyway the older boy wanted. 

Which turned out to be never speaking of the moment again, even to him. 

Never acknowledging the words that had been said and the promises that had been made. 

Ignoring the longing glances that Tommy only threw at him, Carol, and guys he had, had crushes on over the years. 

Steve understood Tommy's reasoning for pretending like that part of him didn't exist,  even if he didn't like it or what Tommy did to cover it up. 

Because he knew what the world was like. 

How his parents would react if Steve even thought about looking at another boy in that way. 

The world wasn't ready for the likes of Tommy Hagan and Robin Buckley. 

Even if that wasn't fair.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

It's too bad we didn't get to see Tommy/Carol and Nancy bitch it out over Steve. Another reason why there should have been twenty episodes. Given some time, Nancy would have destroyed him with her words.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

"Steve knew he was bi last"

Yeah sure, he literally knew he had crushes on boys all through middle school, he just thought everyone did. He thought everyone liked both genders, but you could only date the opposite sex. Like he and Tommy both were gay and talked about it, but they both thought you could only date girls. They thought those were the rules. And then Robin was like, "there's this thing called bisexual."

Steve just gives her a blank stare, "yeah, I know. I came out to Tommy when I was thirteen."

"Wait, you're not straight?" Robin asks, a bit shocked. She tries to hide it, but she grins wide. "I thought you were the straightest guy I knew."

Steve laughed, "I've been kissing boys since I was fifteen." And Robin just hugs him. A simple hug, but it means the world to him.

"Wait," she hums, "you and Eddie. Aren't you two, like, secretly dating?"

"The secret is out," Steve shrugged. He blushed faintly. "Eddie's cute. What do you want from me?"

Robin pretended to gag. "Gross."

"Oh, but you and Nancy are okay?" Steve argues, laughing.

Robin shoves him softly and blushes. "Nancy is fucking hot. And you liked her too!"

They laughed together for what felt like hours, gasping for air. "God, Rob, you're amazing."

"I know," she grinned, "so are you, Stevie."

[allthingssteddie]

Steve Harrington is new to town and is immediately attracted to a dirt track driver.

Backstory Steve’s father has recently had to transfer his job to Hawkins which Steve’s not happy about. He angry he has to move schools when he wanted to finish senior year in Chicago and now he’s forced to live the the middle of nowhere. But on his first day he is approached by Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove they become some what friends (mostly Tommy because billy gives him shit all the time) and one night when he’s alone at home Tommy calls him telling him he’s going to pick him up and telling him they are going to be watching Billy race. And when they get there and Billy racing he doesn’t get a good look at the other driver until the end when the other person wins. and billy is furious and about to get into a fight with the other guy but is pulled back and the guy he finds out his name is Eddie makes eye contact with him and he’s instantly attracted to him and then eddie winks at him which makes him confused to what he’s feeling.

[tartarusknight]

For the beginning of Pride Month, I wrote this small little guy. I hope all of you have a great pride month and stay safe out there!!!!

Bisexual wasn't a word in Steve Harrington's dictionary.

Steve Harrington didn't really understand the anger and hatred pointed towards the queer community. Because sure, you didn't think everyone was attractive, but God, there were so many attractive people out there.

Steve thought girls with soft curly hair and big innocent eyes were adorable, and he wanted them to step on him. But then there were guys who were lanky and so... well, Steve knew he had a type. People who were smaller than him, either in height or muscle mass. Curly hair, big eyes, nerdy, and well, someone who could basically, well, put him in his place.

Still, he noticed how no one talked about same sex crushes, so neither did he. But behind closed doors, he shared his first kiss with Tommy H and thought that the guy in the year above him who stood on table tops with his curly hair just below his chin was hot.

Freshman year, he lost his virginity to a senior girl named Lisa. But the first two years of his high school experience was spent at party, having meaningless encounters with girls while he spent his free time with Tommy and Carol. Honestly, he spent most of his time in bed with the two of them.

Well, until junior year when he got his first girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler. She was his type to a t. She needed some time to really get comfortable around him, but he saw her for who she truly was. As he fell in love with her, he lost Tommy and Carol. But he knew that it was better this way.

He felt more free to do things, and he didn't feel like they were breathing down his next 24/7. However, in senior year, when Nancy broke up with him at a party, he kind of missed them.

Still, he did what he could and got a job at an ice cream shop at the mall. He messed around with Robin there and got a free look at the curly haired guy who worked at the record shop not too far down. All in all, it wasn't terrible.

Well, until there were Russians under the mall. Then, it was frantic and terrifying. But still, he had a moment to sit down on the bathroom floor, as Robin told him about Tammy Thompson. He didn't understand it. Not really. Sure, she had a crush on a girl, but were there no guys she found attractive? Still, he knew when a girl didn't like him back.

Of course, after everything happened, he spent all his time with Robin. If he could, he'd live in her head, but he couldn't.

It was until the spring break that Steve was forced to examine his feelings. Curly haired metalhead now had a role other than distant crush that Steve did have the name of but refused to call him it. Not when he wanted to give all the pet names to him. Well, he finally said the name Eddie Munson, and it was like all hell broke loose. Call it superstition, but... if Dustin hadn't called about dnd and tried to combine his two older brothers' worlds, Steve would've been fine.

Instead, now Eddie was in the hospital with Max, and he was sleeping in a bed with Robin, Dustin, and Erica. They had taken over his king-sized bed, and the scoops troop staying together, holding onto each other closely.

It was then that Robin came out to the group. One Dustin comment made her explode. "Because I'm a lesbian! I only like girls!" She shouted, and the four of them went silent.

"Oh," Dustin said and Steve's brow furrowed.

"What you only like girls?" He asked and she looked at him like he lost it. "No guys, at all? What about the guys that fit in your type?"

She wrinkled her nose, "Anything with a penis isn't my type."

Steve blinked and looked at Dustin and Erica. "What about you two? Do you guys only like gender?" He asked, and everyone was staring at him. "Okay, if you like a certain type and there was someone that fit in that type, you would like them, right?"

"Steve have you ever had a crush on a guy?" Robin's voice was startlingly soft.

He huffed, "Duh. I've had sex with one." They all choked, and Steve didn't understand. "I thought everyone liked everyone. Is that - is that not right?"

"Who?" Robin asked and Steve crossed his arms.

"No way, you'll judge me."

Dustin who seemed to finally get his voice. "Your type. Oh my god, your type! You like Eddie!"

Steve's face went red, "okay this- stop. Nope, not doing this. You don't get to start with me and Eddie!"

He waved his hands around, and Erica started to laugh. And while they knew that Eddie was going to be fine. With Max still in a coma and Vecna on the horizon, it felt nice to laugh about this.

Steve would take their judgment for now. "Please just tell me it wasn't Tommy or Billy," Robin begged and Steve crossed his arms.

"I wouldn't sleep with Billy! Are you kidding me!"

Erica's brow raised, "You're not denying about Tommy though."

Steve pointed at her, "Watch it, Sinclair."

"Ewww," Robin complained and Steve threw his hands up in the air.

"It was only once- wait that's a lie. Once just me and him."

"Lalalala," Robin started shouting, her fingers in her ears.

Steve grinned and tackled Robin into the couch. "But I did sleep with him and Carol plenty of-" and he was shoved off the couch.

[londondziban]

My Roman Empire will forever be Steve and Tommy's friendship. They're so tragic. The fact they were likely childhood best friends and yet Steve started to grow while Tommy hadn't–resulting in the loss of years-long friendship. Tragic yet so realistic; it hurts.

Also, I'm sorry but there's nothing straight about the way Tommy constantly ridiculed Stancy in season 1 and how he taunted Steve in season 2. I wouldn't consider myself a Stommy shipper but–

Anyways, I kinda want to see more of Tommy. We have one more season so anything is possible, but we'll see. I'll just be sad if he just never shows up again tbh

[fullunknowncolor]

The world needs more Steve ( already sure of his sexuality ) Harrington fics, don't get me wrong, him having a crisis cause Eddie is making him question things - love that - but let's be real with ourselves, dudes first guy crush was probably Tommy, those fuckers definitely did shit in secret☝️

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Today’s character is Steve Harrington!

Steve:

Since Steve grew up in the 70s and is currently in the 80s, he’s grown up in a time when labels for sexualities existed but weren’t commonly known especially since there’s no internet and he lives in a small town. He has also grown up in a era where lgbt wasn’t as accepted as it it is now.

Steve isn’t the most knowledgeable when it comes to Queer terms and only really started learning more about it after Robin came out to him. Before learning more he assumed that you either liked girls or boys which scared him a little when he started noticing that he was occasionally interested in men.

The first boy Steve ever had a crush on was Tommy. He remembered that when he was twelve they had a sleepover and whenever Tommy would nudge him or grab him while they were playing outside he would feel nervous but in a good way like he had butterflies. At the time this scared him a little and he convinced himself it wasn’t happening. He did, however, still remain friends with Tommy until their friendship broke apart in 1983. Steve never found out out that Tommy had feelings for him too because he eventually moved on from him.

Steve kissed a boy while on vacation once when he was around fourteen because they’d spent a lot of time together since their families were vacationing near each other and Steve had developed a small crush on him. He hadn’t realised it was a crush until they’d spent time together near a lake while exploring and both had kissed our of curiosity in a moment of piece while resting after swimming. The kiss was nice and it made Steve feel almost free but he also felt nervous. He didn’t bring it up once he was back in Hawkins since his parents wouldn’t accept it and he had no one else to talk to.

Steve was attracted to Billy though it was purely his looks because he found his personality awful. He felt nervous around Billy in both ways but always tried to remain snarky around him and act like he wasn’t bothered.

After learning about Robin he found that he learnt more about sexualities and was able to learn and understand what bisexuality is. He tried explaining one day to Robin that he wasn’t gay because he had genuinely loved Nancy and had even crushed on Robin before finding out she was gay and Robin had to explain that it was okay to like both men and women. This helped Steve a lot in accepting himself as he now knew a lot more.

Steve isn’t ready to come out yet to anyone but Robin because she’ll understand the most out of everyone but he still takes time to learn more on it not just for himself but to support Robin. Both of them once Steve starts feeling more comfortable talking about his sexuality talk about their crushes and who they find attractive.

Steve’s type is very much people with long and wavy hair. He also likes strong minded people, which is why he wasn’t surprised but still a little annoyed when he developed feelings for Eddie Munson. Although Eddie shares a lot of traits with most of his past crushes, Steve still finds him a little confusing and has an unrelated jealously about Dustin preferring him. Once he gets over that he starts seeing more positive things about Eddie.

Steve has had crushes on Tommy, Nancy, Robin, Billy, Eddie and many others.

Another Headcanon

This headcanon can go along with the other headcanons but I also see it on its own being the one that would most fit canon if they had ever decided to give Steve a lgbt storyline

Asexual - Steve has spent most of his teen years thinking that sex and his looks are very important to remain popular. He’s slept with a few women and gone on a few dates but never felt like any of it felt right. I think that Steve being asexual would fit him because I believe that he would be someone who does feel sexual attraction but not very often but in his teen years convinced himself that sex was the only important part of a relationship but it isn’t. His friends help him understand that he doesn’t need to have sex to have a fulfilling relationship and that if it’s something he wants he can but he doesn’t have much sexual desire.

This last one is more to fit canon and I mostly headcanon the ones above however I think being asexual fits Steve a lot and you can be asexual and bisexual.

[rindecisions]

🔞Stranger Tales: 20🔞

A poll based Stranger Things fanfiction

Read all of it on AO3

Steve shook his head and rolled onto his face, groaning into his pillow. How could he think about men like that? What’s the point? What good would come from finding out he likes men… if he likes men? What would it prove? What would it change? Would he suddenly start wanting to date men? He sighed heavily and rolled onto his back again. Regardless, he had to know for sure. A slow, nervous breath calmed him as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

The first person to come to mind was Tommy, because of course it was. He had a long history with Tommy, and thinking back, there may have been a few less-than-straight moments between them. They did spoon at least once at a sleepover, and he’d had the misfortune of witnessing his morning wood more times than he would like to count. Unfortunately, thinking about Tommy bummed him out more than it turned him on. He shook the uncomfortable feeling away and turned his attention to someone else.

Why Jonathan was the next person on his mind, he couldn’t say. He sighed and rolled his eyes, deciding to just continue letting his mind wander wherever the fuck it decided to go. It lingered on the thought of Jonathan’s lips, specifically his smile. Why the hell was he suddenly so obsessed with Jonathan’s smile? Had he always been and just not known it? He did have a nice smile though, and it was a shame he rarely ever showed it. Nancy was about the only person that could coax a true smile out of him. Apparently, thinking about Jonathan bummed him out, too.

“Who’s next?” he grumbled to himself, running his hands through his hair. Billy. Fucking Billy was next. “Fuck it, why not?” he groaned loudly to his empty room. At least Billy was undeniably hot, and he’d inadvertently seen the whole package… the whole package. Steve had to face the fact that he could easily recall most of the details of his body as well. The way his necklace always stuck to his pecs was particularly enticing, and surprisingly satisfying to watch it pop free.

Now that he thought more about it, Billy stared at him a lot. He thought it was because he hated him, but maybe not. The eyes Billy gave him induced goosebumps that he equated to heebie-jeebies, but what if it was because he liked the look? His narrow-eyed gaze and the way he crudely licked his lips. His body was well built… and the way it would grind against him while they played against each oth- Shit! Steve groaned and covered his face. He was actually starting to get hard. “Fuck,” he sighed in annoyance. Then again, if he thought of an equally hot girl doing that, he’d get the same reaction, so it still might not count.

He needed something more solid. Something he could only experience with a man. Something with his dick… a blowjob! That was the first thing he could think of, anyway. Although he couldn’t be on the receiving end. Women can give blowjobs as well. No, he had to be the one sucking. That idea scared and somewhat thrilled him. He swallowed and thought of looking up at Billy from his knees. “Nope,” he cringed and cleared the creepy image. Something about Billy gazing down at him from that angle was too weird and threatening.

Who else was there for him to think about, though? His mouth suddenly went dry. Eddie… that’s who was left. The thought of looking up at Eddie’s face wasn’t nearly as scary. He could tell that Eddie put up a hard front, but was actually a fairly gentle person. His deer-like reaction in the parking lot was all the proof Steve needed to know he was right. Plus, it was easy to picture those large eyes of his with a caring expression. It was a little hard not to mix him up with his drag persona at first, but eventually, he was able to simply imagine Eddie as he’d seen him at the mall and after he cleaned up. Part of him regretted not talking to him before he left. Not that he knew what he’d say even if he did.

He forced his attention back to its original path, finding out if he actually wanted to sleep with men. Eddie was easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. His smile was infectious, too. Do I have a thing for smiles? He sighed and returned to trying to look at Eddie sexually. Instead of jumping straight into the idea of blowing him, Steve decided to take things a little slow. Just the thought of kissing him spiked his heart rate. His lips looked so plush and kissable. He bit his lip at the thought, trying not to be annoyed that his dick twitched. It did again when he thought about their tongues tangling.

Kissing had always been something that Steve enjoyed and was an easy way to get him going. Kissing a man couldn’t be too different from a woman, right? Great, now he was curious. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth for some form of sensation on it as he continued thinking about making out with Eddie. He wondered what’d it feel like to hold Eddie’s narrow waist. A soft groan escaped him at the memory of the dimples on his lower back. Those dimples killed him. There was just something so sexy about them. The thought of running his fingers over them while holding him in a kiss was enough to make his cock grow a touch more.

It was still difficult to accept that thinking about Eddie was making him hard, but the proof was almost staring back at him from under his briefs. He soldiered on and returned to the idea of making out with Eddie, but he took it a step further and undressed him. Other than his midriff and legs, Steve didn’t have any idea what Eddie’s body looked like. He didn’t seem like the sporty type, so chances are he wasn’t ripped, and he seemed rather thin, too. As he thought about taking Eddie’s clothes off, he gave him a generic slender body.

Next was the scary part, facing his dick. No! You’re not supposed to get excited at the fucking thought! He mentally scolded his own dick for twitching. He groaned and cringed, rubbing his hands on his face. Now that he had the image of him standing in front of a naked Eddie, he had to go further. He swallowed and closed his eyes tightly as he thought about kneeling in front of him. An electric sparkle danced over his skin when he met Eddie’s eyes staring down at him. He scanned down his flat chest until his eyes landed on his dick. What would his dick look like? He shook his head, trying not to think too hard about the details, and gave him a generic one. Fuuuck… He liked the idea of holding it and stroking the soft skin. In all honesty, why wouldn’t he like that idea? He has a dick and enjoys the feeling of jerking off, so why would holding another guy’s be all that different?

Putting it in his mouth, though, that was another story. He rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he tried to imagine what that would feel like. He’d handled his own dick plenty to know what textures to expect, but feeling them on his tongue was hard to imagine. A deep shame fell over him as he pressed his thumb past his lips, thinking about doing the same with Eddie’s dick. He ran it over his tongue and cringed when his body reacted. His heart raced, his breathing picked up, and there was no denying his dick was now at full mast. A thumb was far smaller than a dick, but it was the closest thing he could think of. He enjoyed the soft pressure of the pad of his thumb running over his tongue. Shit.

Maybe it was the fact that there was less blood in his brain, but he couldn’t come up with a reason to dispute this one. His free hand stroked over the thin cloth that held his erection flush to his body. When he started wishing that his thumb was actually Eddie’s dick, he had to accept that he was without a doubt interested in men sexually. He created a suction around his thumb as he took his dick out of his briefs and gave it a firm stroke.

“Damit,” he grumbled and removed his thumb from his mouth. He officially wanted Eddie. He’d felt this same way when thinking about women he wanted to sleep with, so there was no denying it. The fantasy continued, and he thought of Eddie staring up at him with his large doe eyes while seductively sucking his dick. Fuck, it was hot. He wondered what his hair would feel like as he ran his hand through his dark waves. He recalled doing the same with women, and how sometimes they liked him taking control. It made him wonder if Eddie would like him to be a little rough. Would he like his hair being grabbed, maybe pulled a little? Would he like being puppeteered? What face would he make if I pushed him all the way down?

Steve furthered the fantasy by imagining Eddie riding him, his slender body bouncing erotically on his dick with bright pink cheeks and shoulders. If only it was Eddie’s ass stroking him instead of his hand. He bet it would squeeze him like a goddamn vise and tightened his own grip to match the thought. A fun realization crossed Steve’s mind. He could imagine he was stroking Eddie’s dick instead of his without breaking the immersion of Eddie riding him. He bit his lip and picked up his pace, getting his hips into it. The only thing missing was knowing what he’d sound like. Eddie’s moans would probably be deeper than a woman’s, harsher, less elegant. He wanted to hear them so badly. With a soft groan, he came on his stomach, wishing that it was Eddie’s and not his. He relaxed his body as he coaxed the last of the cum from his dick.

Fuck… I’m bi.

He heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hands through his hair, cringing when he realized he still had cum on one of them. He sat up, annoyed, and went to take a shower.

More fics by Rindecision

[rockabye-billy]

Do y’all remember the absolutely wonderful fever dream of a masterpiece that SKAM season 3 trailer was? Please feel welcome to indulge in my fantasy and consider it as a ST scene -- Steve’s full-blown bisexual awakening in the locker room after Billy starts this shit in there (which would fit PERFECTLY into Steve’s arc in s2, as well as all the gay shit canon scenes that have happened in the gym and the showers).

Steve as Isak (the one sitting down) Billy as Chris (the one drinking at the beginning and smiling the most) Tommy as Jonas (the one who throws milk) 

[hatsalad]

I'm torn between Steve having always known that he likes guys but just never acknowledged it because that would make it more real or he didn't know he's queer because he's accidentally been surrounding himself with other gays in the closet for years.

Like even before Robin, Steve thought "mild" gay thoughts were normal because him, Tommy and Carol use to talk about it. All three completely unaware that their friend group was made up of two bisexuals and a gay man.

Robin has to take a break when he's telling her about some of the conversations the three of them had cause "Steve, wtf do you mean it never clicked that Tommy wasn't straight and you just thought he hated women in general"

Also just the thought of Steve accidentally collecting queer woman as best friends over the years.

[that-ineffable-devil]

Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 4

Follow on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Author's Note: This is a glimpse into Steve's home life with his parents--I don't expect we'll see much of them after this, but we need to lay the groundwork for his relationship with them as well as the dynamic between himself and Tommy. While he won't see Tommy for what he is, yet, this is the seed that blooms by the end of S1 of the show's canon. I promise he won't always suffer so much!

CONTENT WARNING: Most of this chapter has a humming undercurrent of Steve's anxiety with Tommy and his father. It also ends with an intense confrontation with his father. There's no physical abuse, but he does yell at and heavily insult Steve. As with Chapter 3, I've placed the confrontation under the Read More cut so it can be avoided, if necessary.

Chapter 4: An Only Child in an Only Room

Steve bumped harshly into Tommy as he rounded the corner on the way to his next class, sending the other boy crashing to the floor.

“T-Tommy! Oh, man, I’m sorry—let me…” he rushed out, reaching down to help Tommy up.

The grimace on the boy’s face made Steve’s heart drop into his stomach. Was Tommy hurt? Did he hurt him? Anxiety welled up in him like a tidal wave as his eyes darted all over the other boy, searching for injuries.

Tommy’s grimace twisted into something like rage as he slapped Steve’s hand away and stood up.

“I’m fine, but you should pay more attention, Harrington,” he spat out, the words laced with venom.

Tommy had never spoken to him like this, and as the anxiety boiled over into fear, he searched the boy’s freckled face for a reason.

His friend continued to glare coldly at him as he shifted his backpack to his other shoulder.

“So. Have a good time with your mystery girl today?”

Steve though Tommy sounded hurt—or jealous? But why? Tommy had never seemed to mind him hanging out with girls before—not that it happened often. Tommy didn’t know he’d been working on his essay with Jonathan, right? And why would that make him jealous? Steve decided he must be misreading things again—emotions were tricky, and he wasn’t the best at reading them. Attempting to defuse the situation, he adopted a sheepish smile and looked away from Tommy, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Oh…y-yeah, it was great. Lotta fun.”

“I bet,” Tommy replied, voice still chilly and edged.

Steve shuffled his feet—maybe Tommy was feeling neglected? He hadn’t spent as much time with his best friend this week, so maybe Tommy thought he was abandoning him for some girl. Steve swallowed the panic that rose in his throat as he thought of losing his best friend. He couldn’t panic—now was the time for action.

“So, uh, I know we haven’t had as much time to hang out this week so I thought, maybe, if you want, you could come over to my place this weekend? My dad’s headed out of town Saturday morning, so we could pretty much have full reign of the place and stuff…” Steve stammered out, counting the scuffs on the floor because he couldn’t stand the sight of Tommy’s anger.

The silence stretched on, thicker and more cloying than it had in the library—like it would drown them if they didn’t break its surface. If Steve had looked up, he may have caught Tommy’s expression shift from cold rage to cruel calculation. When he finally met the other boy’s gaze, Tommy had schooled his face into a friendly, but devious expression—nothing out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Can I come over tonight though and stay the weekend? My dad has some ‘business friends’ coming over this weekend and I have zero interest in being their beer gopher.”

Steve smiled brightly.

“Absolutely! That’d be awesome!”

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Though he’d been happy to agree to Tommy’s request—anything to quell the impending Hagan Wrath—he was a bit worried that he hadn’t gotten permission first. He soothed the anxiety by reminding himself that Harringtons were nothing if not impeccable hosts, and to refuse to let Tommy stay after the invitation was offered would be a grave offense to the Hagans.

He just hoped that his father would forget about it before he returned from his business trip. That his mother wouldn’t remind him.

As Steve and Tommy climbed into the back seat of his mother’s Beemer, he decided to rip the metaphorical Band-Aid off.

“Hey Mom! Tommy’s staying over this weekend—that okay?” His voice is bright and high, as if in excitement—but it was really nerves.

“My parents are entertaining business clients this weekend, Mrs. Harrington, and they’d really appreciate not having to worry about me while they’re hosting,” Tommy added in a sickly-sweet voice as he closed the car door. “I’m sure they’d gladly repay the favor.”

“Of course, dears, that’ll be just fine,” Steve’s mother replied, not turning to face them.

To anyone else, she may have sounded a little resigned but cheerful. Steve knew that something else simmered below her words, and he felt his stomach tighten as he thought of his father. If he’d already had a bad day…Steve swallowed thickly, trying to focus on anything but his thoughts. But Tommy was unusually quiet, leaving him to stew in his apprehension.

Steve just hoped his father wouldn’t do anything in front of Tommy—he felt he was already on thin ice there, though he couldn’t understand why.

As the three of them filed quietly into the Harringtons’ foyer, Steve noted his father’s luggage was already packed and ready near the entryway, their black leather and scarlet zippers a stark contrast against the neutral wall. While Richard Harrington firmly believed in being prepared for any situation, Steve thought it looked like an awful lot more luggage than normal for one of his short business trips. His mother walked past the luggage without a second glance and without a word to either boy, both of whom had stopped to hang up their backpacks.

“Richard, we have a guest!” she called out to the house, her voice loud but neutral.

Steve’s stomach twisted into knots as he heard the door to his father’s study open with the slightest click and squeak. His chest grew tighter as his father’s Oxfords clacked heavily against the floor as he approached. He wanted to bolt—to run to his room with Tommy and hide there until his father had left on his trip. But his legs were frozen, his sneakers glued to the floor. There’d be no running.

His father approached the boys as his mother finished hanging her hat and coat—she exited toward the kitchen without sparing any of them another glance, but her shoulders were as stiff as the click of her heels on the hard floor. Steve wanted to look down, look away—look anywhere his father wasn’t. But Harringtons always look men in the eye, his father had said. If a man couldn’t meet your eyes, then he was lying or a coward—both unacceptable traits for a Harrington. So, he met his father’s eyes as he approached.

“Ah, the young Hagan, I see,” his father said as he sized up Tommy, his voice deep and booming, no expression on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replied with his most winning smile.

Steve could practically hear the dimples in his voice, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before his father fixed him with a cold glare.

“I don’t recall you asking permission to invite a friend over this weekend, Steven.”

“W-well, I…um..”

“Oh my, did you forget darling?” Steve’s mother said, having returned to the doorway. “He asked me a few days ago and I told him it would be fine, knowing you’d be on your trip anyway. I’m certain I reminded you last night,” her eyes alight with something undefinable as she stared at the back of her husband’s head.

Shock ran through Steve’s entire body as he chanced a look at his mother. She caught his eye and gave the briefest breath of a smile and nod before her neutral expression returned.

Richard stared down his nose at Steve—he did not believe his boy had asked permission, but he couldn’t contradict his wife so openly—not in front of company, at least. He took a deep breath, eyes still fixed on his son.

“Ah, yes, now I remember,” he replied, tilting his head in her direction. “Well then, Mr. Hagan, it appears you are our most welcome guest.”

As his father turned to return to his study, Steve smiled at his mother in the distance. She nodded again, her dark brown eyes warm, but sad. When Steve turned to Tommy, relief washing over him, he noticed the other boy did not seem relieved—or even happy. He looked…annoyed? Frustrated? Disappointed? Before Steve could make sense of it, Tommy turned to him and smiled widely, dispelling his concern.

“Great!” Tommy said brightly. “Let’s go up to your room, we can hang out for a while before dinner, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Steve replied cheerfully, and they raced each other up the stairs to his room.

Dinner at the Harrington house was always a quiet affair. Although they all sat around the solid oak dining table, there was rarely any talk. Steve’s parents would sit at opposite ends of the table—his father reading the Wall Street Journal, his mother keeping her eyes on her meal. Steve had hoped he and Tommy could eat quickly and then escape, but Tommy seemed determined to engage his father in conversation. It was maddening. Steve had even tried kicking the other boy under the table, but Tommy had turned so that Steve’s feet couldn’t reach him. What was he doing?

“So, Mr. Harrington, did you see Steve’s last game? He was totally the MVP,” Tommy remarked with a grin.

Steve’s father huffed a bit, eyes still on his paper.

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. I was, unfortunately, away on business for that game.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get another chance, especially now that Steve knows he’s passing English lit, isn’t that right Steve?”

Steve squeaked.

“What? I mean, yeah, I am…but…”

“Steve, man, you have got to tell me how you finished that ridiculous essay so quickly!” Tommy interrupted.

“Well, I…I told you; I went to the library during lunchtime all week.” Steve stuttered out, giving Tommy a confused expression.

“Right, right, the library. Good place to write about Hemingway.”

“Yeah, I thought…”

“And, of course, you got help from that weird Byers kid, right?”

The deafening silence pressed so strongly around their ears that Steve could only hear the rush of his own blood.

“W-what?” Steve stammered, his heart speeding as heat flushed into his cheeks. What was Tommy on about?

“You know—Byers. Everyone saw you with him—you even stayed late to work with him, right?”

“I…I don’t,” Steve was panicking, his eyes flicking between his father and Tommy.

“Byers?” his father asked, his voice quiet but commanding.

Steve gulped, his throat suddenly dry and raw.

“You, a Harrington, have been spending time with a mangy Byers?”

His father was staring at his meal as he spoke, his voice calm and deep, though Steve could swear he heard the waver that preceded imminent rage.

“I…I was just…the paper…”

Steve’s voice was pleading as he looked toward his mother, who kept her head down and expression neutral, but he thought her eyes were closed as if resigned. The color drained out of Steve as he realized he would face this alone, so he channeled all his effort to stopping the oncoming tremors. Any sign of nervousness or fear showed weakness and unworthiness to Richard Harrington’s eyes.

“Mr. Hagan, I’m afraid you will need to excuse us a moment, I need to have a word with my son,” his father said pointedly, looking at Tommy.

Tommy nodded, and as Steve stood from the table to follow his father into his study, he could have sworn that Tommy looked pleased—triumphant, even. It was bewildering and surreal.

Steve flinched as the door clicked shut behind him, his father walking behind his rich mahogany desk to face him. He gestured to the uncomfortable wooden chair placed under the ceiling light in front of the desk.

“Sit, Steven,” he said calmly, his fingers resting on the desktop.

Steve obeyed, his entire body a coiled spring waiting to pop. His father did not sit, opting instead to tower over his son, his face half-hidden by shadows.

“Is Mr. Hagan correct? Did you skip your lunches—perhaps even some classes—to spend time with that…Byers boy?”

His father’s voice was quiet and collected, but Steve knew it was merely the calm before the storm. If he chose his words carefully, he could minimize the damage.

“I had an English literature paper due today and had struggled to find a copy of any of Hemingway’s works. I went to the library on Monday and Jonathan and I fou…” Steve started to explain.

“Jonathan?” his father spat, as though the name were cheap wine to his refined palate.

“Y…um…the B-Byers boy,” Steve corrected himself.

His father’s eyes grew darker as he seemed to grow impossibly taller. Steve cleared his throat.

“Um, we—B-Byers and I—we both found the last Hemingway b-book at the same t-time, so we thought, since we b-both hadn’t f-finished the essay…” Steve’s voice failed as his father crossed his arms before him.

“Let me make sure I understand this. You, a Harrington, waited until the last minute to prepare for and write your essay. Rather than ask your parents to simply purchase you one of Hemingway’s novels, you sought the last one available in the library, and once finding it, agreed to share it with a Byers so that you could both write your procrastinated essays—am I correct?”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears, but he held them back, refusing to break eye contact with his father.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“You then spent your lunch every day this week with said Byers writing your individual essays—all in close quarters, in public. Correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And am I to believe you also skipped classes to spend time with this boy?”

“N-no!” Steve shouted, fear seeping through. “We were just sharing the book so we could write our papers, nothing else! It…it wasn’t even fun. H-he was…he was weird.”

“Could you not have passed the book back and forth, each taking it for one night each week before Friday?”

“W-well…I guess we d-didn’t think about that…” Steve admitted, deflating like a punctured balloon.

“Of course, you didn’t,” his father sighed in frustration. “You both clearly have the brain power of an uneducated slug. I expect more from you Steven—you’re a Harrington and that comes with conditions. You do not fraternize with people like the Byers’.”

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Why, though?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why can’t I f-fraternize with the Byers’?”

“Those ‘people’ are trash, you embarrassment. If you associate with trash, you become it, and I’ll be damned before I let any son of mine become one of them.”

“But...w-what do you mean? J…the Byers boy seemed n-nice…”

“Stop stuttering, you idiot! Speak with confidence or do not speak at all!”

Steve curled in on himself, unable to stop the involuntary reaction to his father’s raised voice.

“Listen to me, you will learn that some people are simply worthless—beneath you and undeserving of your attention. While you may be a father’s biggest disappointment, you are still a Harrington, and I’ll not see our good name sullied by your association with a Byers.”

Steve blinked rapidly, fighting back the torrent of tears that threatened to spill over. His father leaned in over his desk suddenly, his facial features suddenly distorted and made grotesque from the light of his desk lamp. Steve flinched again.

“Now, because we have esteemed company tonight, you will not be sent to confinement. But if I hear even a whisper of a rumor that you are spending any more time with this Byers bastard, you won’t see the light of day unless you’re headed to or from school. Am I clear?”

His father’s voice was like ice—cold, calculating, and utterly merciless.

Steve, still in shock, took too long to answer.

“DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!” his father shouted in his face.

“Y-yes, sir!” Steve squeaked out, holding back the sob in his chest.

“Good. Get out of my sight, you’re done with dinner. I’ll send Tommy up to your room later.”

Steve nodded, leaving his chair and trying to make a quick exit.

“Boy!” his father said curtly behind him. “Look at me.”

Steve turned his face toward his father, hoping the tears weren’t as visible as they felt.

“I expect silence from your room tonight—I have an early flight and will not tolerate being kept awake. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said with as much confidence as possible.

“Dismissed,” his father replied.

Steve calmly exited the study, walked back down the hallway, then took the stairs two at a time, afraid he could no longer hold the tears at bay. Why had Tommy talked about his paper? How did he know he’d been working with Jonathan? He said everyone had seen him, but they can’t have—they’d usually worked at a table tucked behind rows and rows of shelves and books. And Tommy knew Richard Harrington’s views—didn’t he know how his father would react? He’d seen how Steve’s father treated him before, so why would he even risk inciting his rage? Was Tommy mad at him? Had he done something wrong?

Steve flung himself onto his bed after silently closing his bedroom door. He tried unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of Jonathan, waiting for him in the library on Monday, not knowing that Steve would never show. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart as the grief of losing something so good so quickly. As the sobs threatened to erupt from his chest, he hoped he could keep them quiet enough to not reach his father, and prayed that he’d be able to push the rest down so Tommy would never see him like this.

He couldn't bear to lose Tommy, too.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Post Notes: "Baby" Steve is breaking my heart, y'all, and I'm ready to throw hands at Richard--and even Tommy. That little jerk knows exactly what he's doing--whatever his reasons, he shouldn't do Steve like that.

Chapter 5 Preview: Jonathan Byers can't believe that Steve Harrington, friend of Hawkins' resident bully Tommy Hagan, is actually a kind and decent person--and even stranger, Steve seems to want to be his friend. After a restless weekend trying to make sense of the last week, Jonathan is excited to see his friend Steve in the library again on Monday. But he doesn't know that Steve's weekend had been an entirely different experience, and everything was about to change. Forever.

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

Chapter title courtesy of Suffer the Children by Tears for Fears.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve Harrington x Past Tommy headcanon, Steddie being the future (this isn't me trying to make an excuse for Tommy, but I'm just trying to fill in the blanks the Duffle bags left us with):

Don't get me wrong, I love it where Eddie is Steve’s queer awakening and all, but it's definitely used a lot. Not a complaint, just stating a fact. Come on, there definitely wasn't anything straight about his relationship with Tommy, and Carol was definitely Tommy's beard. At least, I think that Carol is Tommy's beard and a lesbian. Am I like the only one who thought they weren't that bad? I mean, yeah, they were assholes but to be fair, every teenager is one. I was a good kid who didn't make my dad worry so much, but even I could be such an asshole sometimes. The theater thing was over the line, but I can imagine they did that because they probably witnessed Steve crying. They're probably one of the only ones who saw Steve cry, and I think we probably would have gone to war if we saw Steve cry. And I think Tommy probably did it out of guilt.

I think Steve was with Tommy once, and maybe he thinks Tommy was a special case. Maybe he had hoped that Tommy would stop being an asshole and that's why it didn't work. Maybe that's why Tommy basically called him a coward. Maybe he walked away from Tommy more than once. I mean, he did get onto Tommy when he said something shitty. Why do people think that he didn't try to ever stop Tommy? He never joined in on when they talked shit. He got onto Tommy for saying shit about Jonathan. I think the theater was the only time he didn't ever try, and the only time he talked shit about Jonathan was because he was angry and hurt. Shit, maybe he wasn't just thinking about his parents when he saw Nancy with Jonathan? Maybe he was thinking about that time he walked in on Tommy having sex with Carol because they were trying to see if they were interested in the opposite sex. They weren't, but Steve didn't know that because he walked away. He also stayed because Tommy was his oldest friend. He walked away for the last time, and Tommy, heartbroken, befriended Billy, hoping to make Steve jealous.

Steve didn't tell Robin, not only because it hurt too much, because it wasn't just his secret to tell. He didn't think he could ever fall for another guy again. He knows he's attracted to them, but he didn't think he could love another one until Eddie came along. And when Eddie was lying prone in the hospital, Steve brought Robin to the bathroom and told her everything. She was another person who saw him cry.

I don't know. People don't give Steve enough credit for walking from Tommy and Carol. I mean, just because they were assholes, their friendship doesn't mean anything. . .it doesn't mean anything that Steve walked away from a shitty situation? Most adults can't do what Steve did. Just the facts.

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has to squint harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

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

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

❤️

[allthingssteddie]

Steve’s ex Tommy hagan had screwed him over for the last time and he decides to ruin his life slowly with the help of his local dealer Eddie Munson. They also fall for each other during this as well.

So basically it’s like the song smile by Lily Allen.

[imfinereallyy]

“Who was your first kiss?”

“Depends what you mean.” Steve hits the joint Eddie passed to him. They are sitting on the roof of the trailer, stargazing. It is the first clear night of summer. Steve feels lighter than he has in months.

“I'm not really sure if there is another way to ask that, Harrington.” Eddie laughs around the tip of the joint. “It's a pretty simple question. Besides, I thought this was secret time. No need to get shy on me now.” Eddie spins to his side dramatically, tucking his hands beneath his face. He stares at Steve with joy in his eyes.

Steve takes the joint, pulls, and huff smoke into Eddie’s face. A soft laugh escapes him. “Well, I mean, do you mean like the first real kiss? Or, like, when did I start practicing?”

“Practicing?”

“Yea like, figure out how to, and what its like before the real deal? So it doesn't count.”

“I'm sorry—” Eddie scrunches his eyebrows “—I’m confused. Why wouldn't it count?”

“Cause it was with a guy.” Steve shrugs because he doesn't think it's a big deal. He doesn't understand why Eddie is hung up on it.

But then, Eddie's face does this thing for a second. Like he isn't sure whether to be angry or sad, but then it relaxes. Instead, a look of puzzlement takes over his face. “Steve, it counts. Like—even though you're not attracted to guys, that still counts as a first kiss. It’s like—kinda hurtful you think it doesn't.”

Steve tilts his head and goes over what he said in his mind. He can't recall saying anything ridiculous like he does when he is high. “Okay, now I'm confused.”

Eddie stares and says nothing.

“No! Not like confused as in I don't get why your upset, but more like confused who said I was straight?”

In shock Eddie manages, “What now?”

“Never said I was straight. I just meant that if we're talking about first kisses, usually people mean a girl. So the guy doesn't count. Especially because I didn't know I liked guys then. Think even if I was straight this right here—” Steve waves a hand between the two of them “—is pretty homoerotic so I think straight went out the window.”

Eddie swallows, looks down at Steve’s lips, and looks back into his eyes. “There is so much to unpack there. But first, thank you for telling me. Second, Steve. That is like not how it works. Just cause a kiss is practice doesn't mean you didn't kiss. Like just cause you're hitting balls at practice instead of the game, doesn't mean you're not hitting them.”

Something settles in Steve. “Huh, I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Eddie grabs Steve by the shoulders. “I'm glad you understand, but onto more pressing matters. Who was this boy you practiced with?”

“Oh, it was Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie drops his hands in shock. “Hagan?! C’mon Stevie, I thought you had better taste.”

Steve giggles at Eddie’s antics. He can't help but take in how pretty Eddie is when he gets all worked up. It is unfair in Steve’s eyes. How someone can be so wonderful even when they are losing their mind.

Steve can't resist the urge to finally flirt a little. “He wasn't my type Munson. Like I said, just practice. Wasn't really into it. Pretty sure he liked it more than me. I think if I liked him, I would have figured out the whole bisexual thing a lot sooner. No, my type is definitely more in the dark curly hair nerd department.”

Eddie swallows nervously, “Nancy?”

Steve isn't offended by Eddie’s question. Steve knows he's scrambling, can tell by the blush on his face. Steve feels hope spark within his chest. “No, she's great and all, but I was thinking more masculine. With pretty doe eyes, a deep laugh, a kind soul, and horrible taste in music.”

Eddie sputters, and Steve watches his blush spread, “My music is great!”

“Hmmm, sure.”

“Hey Stevie? Do you feel like you need more practice?” Eddie leans in close brushing his nose against Steve’s with a sudden rush of bravery.

“No, i’ve had enough practice. Think I want the real thing.”

“Okay I want to be smooth but I have to google d response to that so I am going to kiss you now.” Eddie rushes out.

“Sounds perfect.” Eddie closes the gap before Steve can say anything else. Eddie tastes like salted chocolate and weed. It's sweet and musky and so very Eddie. It starts soft, the softest kiss Steve’s had, just plush lips pushed against each other.

It slowly builds to more. Steve’s hands travel up Eddie’s sides and into his hair. He wonders how a wild thing could be so, so soft. Steve gives a gentle tug, and Eddie moans deeply into him. Eddie’s hands grab Steve’s waist and yank him forward. His hands are to cause bruises surely, and the thought leaves Steve giddy. The sounds Eddie makes are getting desperate, which causes Steve to release his own moan.

Eddie doesn't waste a second taking advantage and shoving his tongue inside Steve’s mouth. He’s warm and wet, and oh God, Steve wants more, more, more.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulls back. “Wait, who did you really think was your first kiss?”

Steve rests his forehead on Eddie’s. He can't help but think his answer is a little funny. “Carol Perkins.”

“Wait, wasn't she dating Tommy?”

“Oh yeah. He was there actually. Kinda encouraged it to happen.”

Eddie looks torn between laughing and being disgusted. “Again, so much to unpack, but I don't think I want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. At least not tonight. Can we go back to making out?”

“Yes please.” Steve all but begs, a while releasing into the space between them.

They don't pull apart until their lips are swollen and their throats are raw from moaning. It’s Steve’s best first kiss yet.

---

originally this was more angsty and going to be more reflective on my personally experience of the very popular thought of “if my first kiss is with a girl it doesn't count” that I see a lot of bisexuals like myself (and other sexually fluid people...honestly an experience the whole LGBTQ+ community has) have. Like having that realization made me re-evaluate myself. But it ended up being more light hearted and using another experience of mine which is being out but refusing to count the first kiss because of who it was with. Steve and I...we have regrets. I still might write the other one, we shall see :)