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gay-little-bitch · 1 year

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Personal Lies pt 1

Pt2 pt3 pt4 Pt5

Note: To any new readers, the first 4 chapters are pretty bad but I will re-write those at some point and I promise it gets better.

"Steve Harrington was one of the newest indie artists in 2023 who gained some popularity in the genre when he released his first album titled 'The King.' The album was a dedication to someone he had a crush on in high school. He was the school's resident freak who nobody wanted, while Steve was in the popular crowd and he was of course quite the sex symbol.

The first single he released was called 'Personal Lies' which he used to express how he felt when he first fell for this anonymous boy. The order he released the songs showcases how he felt over time and why he was crushing after 'the freak.' This leads to the question 'is this love still there?' Steve will neither confirm nor deny this but revealed he still wishes the boy remembered him.

Will he find this boy? Will crushes bloom?"

-------------------

Steve's Pov:

"Oh my god Robs." Steve scoffs "Are you seeing this shit?!" He turns his phone over to Robin to show her a TikTok page dedicated to finding his mystery boy. She can barely contain the giggle that slips past her lips. "Babes your face is like bright red, you look like a tomato. It's okay~ they're just trying to help." Steve gets up from his seat to aggressively bring his and his roommate's dishes to the sink.

"How did they find all of that out about me though?!" Steve reads the information on the TikTok. "For 20 years Steve lived in a small place in Indiana called Hawkins. Steve went to Hawkins Middle school and Hawkins high. He used to be best friends with a kid named Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who are dating. Steve's new friends consist of Nancy Wheeler (his ex-girlfriend), her brother Mike Wheeler, Will Byers (Mike's boyfriend), and his brother Jonathan Byers. Steve seems to be very close with Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Argyle (last name unknown), Jane Hopper, and his roommate/best friend Robin Buckley."

"Like who told them?!" Steve takes a deep breath and looks at Robin. He seems calm but decides to start rambling. "I just don't understand why I can't just live my lonely single life without people butting in??? Eddie probably doesn't even remember me and even if he did he's probably not even gay or he just hates me. Did you know I was a dick to him in school? I didn't mean to be a dick I just really wanted some. Specifically hi-"

Robin slaps a hand over her best friend's mouth. "Steve...? Stop." He lets out a sad sounding sigh. "If you don't want to find him, we don't have to but I think it would be the perfect idea to make you feel something again. After me and Nance started dating you seemed so sad. You need someone to love Stevie."

"Yeah whatever" Robin mutters something about calling Gareth (Eddie's bestfriend since high school) and without anymore words they continue their movie.

----------------------

2 days later

The smell of eggs and bacon fills the room of a sleeping Steve. His headache has no signs of going away but he regretfully gets out of bed. The first thing he sees when he opens the door is Robin, who has 2 glasses of her hangover cure. "Here Steve!" He hesitates before taking it. Robin usually doesn't let him use her cure and tells him to 'make it himself.' "Is it drugged?" Steve smells the gross looking slurry. It doesn't smell half bad.

"No dumbass it's not drugged. Didn't you see the news?" Steve gives her a questioning look, waiting for her to respond. "You are on the billboard hot 100!"

Steve slams his glass down on the counter hoping it doesn't break. "Holy shit Robs are you fucking serious?!" "Dead."

Steve starts freaking out. "What if Eddie sees and knows it's about him?!" Robin giggles. "He doesn't really listen to your type of music I don't think. I don't think he knows. He's not even on social media as far as I know. You'll be okay Stevie. Why don't you want him to know that it's about him?"

He downs his drink and goes to put it in the sink. "What if he still thinks i'm an asshole and wants nothing to do with me? I don't wanna risk it ya' know?" Robin rolls her eyes at Steve's stupidity and grabs her phone.

Robin's Pov:

Last night Robin decided to text Gareth and see if he's still in contact with Eddie and if he'd heard Steve's new album. Good news, he was still best friends with Eddie. Bad news, Gareth hates Steve and refuses to listen. Robin refuses to give up and she invites him for an early lunch at the coffee shop a few blocks away, and with some negotiation he agrees.

--------------------------

Gareth walks into the shop wearing a ripped mesh shirt, an iron maden shirt, and dark blue baggy jeans. His hair is longer and the ends are colored red. He looks so much different from high school.

"Gareth!!" Robin swings out her arms for a hug. He cautiously accepts and they sit down at the table next to the window. "So why did you invite me here? I know it wasn't just to have a coffee." Robin feels her smile grow. "Did you know Steve has a crush on Eddie?" Gareth freezes and has a confused but amused look on his face.

"Eddie has a crush on Steve... He literally wrote his newest album about his crush in high school." Robin slaps the table and gets looks from the other customers. "Steve did the same thing!! We need to set them up!" Gareth looks intrigued so she keeps going.

"Steve's fans have been trying to figure out who the mystery boy is and I bet your guys' fans are probably doing the same thing. So what if we let them keep guessing for a little while longer and then we hook them up!" His face lights up and he grabs his phone. "I have to go but I just send you my Instagram and the band's Instagram. Let's hope this plan works."

They say their goodbyes and right when Robin gets in her car she checks his Instagram.

Corroded Coffin: 4.5 Million Followers

Eddie Munson: 3.7 Million Followers

"Holy Shit."

Notes: Hope you liked the first part! I'm really happy with the outcome of my post inspiring this<;33333 I used @little-gae-shit idea for the album name "The King" and I used @maya-custodios-dionach idea for the Gareth and Robin thing. Idk how many parts this will be but I'm excited to continue to write. I suck at writing to lets hope this is okay :/

read on ao3

Tags:

@down-sizing-redux , @gay-stranger-things , @satan-is-obsessed , @this-is-moony-lovegood , @impeachy , @maraudersfavoritewhore , @robinbuckleymybeloved

#steddie #steve harrington #bi steve harrington #indie artist!steve harrington #eddie munson #gay eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson #modern steddie #bi eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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lessons in femininity

part two of pretty girls part 1 also on ao3

Steve never intended on telling anyone.

Not a soul.

But Eddie fucking Munson pried it out of his chest, so patiently and tenderly and lovingly that Steve let him.

And now Steve is on his way to his best friend’s house because her parents aren’t home, and his hands are shaking, and he can’t really breathe, but even though he feels like he might die, he has a weird feeling he’s going to be fine.

He stops his car about a block away, taking a deep breath and squeezing the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. And then he steels himself, tensing as he pulls into Robin’s driveway.

———

No, I’m fine, I just… I need to tell you something.

Robin’s had a pit in her stomach since Steve called her and asked if he could come over, anxiety and a little bit of fear knitted inside her because of the way Steve’s voice was shaking.

He gives her a weak smile when she opens the door for him, and she pulls him inside.

“What’s wrong?”

He laughs lightly, pushing his hands in his pockets. He does that when he’s nervous.

“Nothing wrong, I just… gotta tell you something.”

“What is it?” Robin asks anxiously.

“Uh.” Steve pauses, pushing his hand through his hair. “Can we sit?”

“Wanna go to my room?” Robin asks. Steve nods.

He follows her down the hall, and she shuts the door as he sits cross-legged on her bed even though there’s no one else home. He’s looking at the painting on her wall that she did when she was fourteen. A shitty ufo abducting a cow. He loves that painting.

“What’s going on?” she asks, crawling onto the bed.

“Uhm.” He takes a deep, shaky breath and pushes his glasses up. “I’m, uhm.”

“Steve,” she says softly. He shakes his head, smiling weakly.

“I’m fine, I swear,” he says, because sometimes he can read her mind. She wishes she could read his right now. He takes a deep breath, his hands on his knees, straightening his arms out like he’s bracing himself. “Okay. I’m— I’m queer.”

She stares at him, wide-eyed, and she relaxes, slumping, and her lips curve into a slow smile. His eyes cut up to hers.

“Oh,” she says softly. “Steve, that’s…”

He takes a breath.

“It’s not— It’s not just…” He pushes his hair back again. His hands are shaking. Robins’s stomach twists, and she reaches out, taking his hands in her own, pulling at them until Steve shifts. Their legs wrap around each other and she cradles his hands gently.

“What is it?”

“So…” He exhales shakily, playing with her fingers. “I like… I like men. Also.”

“Cool,” she says softly.

“But I also, uhm…” He blinks hard, swaying slightly, his hands tightening on Robin’s.

“Steve?”

“Sorry,” he says softly. “Just got a little lightheaded, ‘m fine.”

“Are you gonna have a migraine?” she asks worriedly. “Should I close the curtains?”

“No, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

“You can’t tell me you’re lightheaded and then tell me you're fine--"

"I'm fine,” he insists, laughing softly, squeezing her hands. “I’m just nervous, I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be nervous, you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” he says adamantly. “‘S just— I wasn’t ever gonna tell you because it’s— I think it’s weird, but Eddie says it’s not weird,” he says quietly, looking at their linked hands. “And you’re my best friend in the world, so I want you to know, but I just— I don’t know how to say it.”

“You told Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking at her nervously.

“Tell me what you told him.”

Steve takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Uhm.” He looks at their hands again, tracing a line on her palm carefully like he’s drawing it. “So. I don’t think…” He hesitates, wincing. “I know,” he corrects. “I’m not just… a guy.”

She blinks, closing her fingers around his hand, listening intently.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“I’m— I’m a girl too. Kind of. I’m both,” he says choppily, anxiously, his hands trembling. She squeezes. “Eddie says he— he’s met people like me. Transsexuals and…” He takes a gasping breath, and she leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“‘S cool, Steve,” she says gently, squeezing his hands. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t— It’s not that I want to be a woman,” Steve says anxiously. “I’m just… I wouldn’t mind it? I like… being called pretty, and— and Eddie called me a girl and I really liked it.”

Robin listens, ignoring the curiosity that’s curling in her chest. (She wonders why Steve started all this by saying he likes men. Why Eddie was the first person he told about all of this. But at the same time, she doesn’t really wonder. Maybe she can read his mind the way he can read hers.)

“But at the same time I don’t, like, mind being called dude, or being seen as a man.” He’s quiet for a second. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Robin whispers. “That makes sense.”

He swallows nervously, biting his lip.

“Steve,” she says softly. “It’s fine. I’m not… judging you or anything. Not about this.”

He shoots her a look, scoffing, blinking tears out of his eyes. She wipes one away.

“Your taste in movies, sure,” she teases, and he laughs softly. “But not about this, not about who you are.”

She leans in, resting her forehead on his, and he takes a soft, gasping breath.

“I love you, Steve,” she murmurs. “Okay? No matter what.”

He lets go of her hands and wraps his arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She squeezes her eyes shut, moving forward so she’s sitting between his legs, her legs around his waist, and she runs a hand over the back of his head when she feels him inhale slowly.

She sighs when they separate, patting his cheek. He laughs softly.

“If I talk about you to Eddie how should I refer to you?” she asks.

“Uh.” He looks away, smiling softly like he doesn’t even realise he’s smiling. “He. I think. I don’t really know.”

“That’s okay.”

“We’re gonna go to, uhm, a queer bar in Indy,” Steve tells her, smiling crookedly, happily. “And he said I can try new things out. Being a girl.”

She smiles back.

“Eddie, huh?”

His face flushes red and he rubs his cheek bashfully, his eyes shining. Robin pokes his stomach, cooing, and he rolls his eyes, throwing himself onto his back.

But Robin’s legs are still around him, and she goes down with him, shouting his name. He wraps his arms around her tightly, laughing loudly.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

“Ugh.”

They’re quiet for a moment, still giggling as they hold each other, until she sits up abruptly and looks down at him.

“How do you feel about makeup?”

“Uh. I’ve never worn it.”

“Would you like to?”

“…I’m open to the idea.”

She beams, scrambling to get up off of him, and he sighs heavily.

When she comes back with her makeup bags in hand, he’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, looking at the mural again.

“God, you really like that painting,” she says, sitting across from him.

“I want one,” he says. “When I get my own apartment.”

“I’ll do it for you,” she says lightly. “If you supply the paint.”

“Deal.”

“So, Eddie,” she says as she pulls his glasses off his face and hooks them on the front of her shirt. He rolls his eyes, blushing again. “Come on,” she says adamantly, rummaging through a bag. He watches, squinting. “I never got to gush about crushes and stuff with my friends.”

“‘S not really a crush,” Steve mutters quietly. She freezes as she’s pulling blush out.

“What’s that mean?”

Steve looks down, his fingers tangled in his lap.

“‘S my boyfriend,” he mumbles.

She smacks his shoulder.

“You asswipe, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It only happened like a few days ago,” he says defensively.

“Fine,” she says, reaching for the blush brush. “Strong tally on the You Rule board.”

He beams brightly, and the apples of his cheeks rise. Robin grins and puts the blush on them.

“So how’d it happen?” she asks, leaning back to make sure the blush is even. His left cheek is pinker, so she adds more to the right. “You and Eddie.”

“Uh.” He closes his eyes. “I think we’ve always had, like. A thing.”

“Uh-huh.” She brushes it over his nose.

“He was over with the kids for Hellfire at my place the other day. And we— Oh you’re gonna hate this.”

She rolls her eyes as she puts the blush away.

“Just tell me.”

“We went out for a smoke.”

Robin groans loudly. He laughs. She looks through her eyeshadows as they talk.

“Whatever.”

“I only went because I wanted to be near him.

“Sickeningly romantic, Steve.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I followed him out, and when I went to light my cigarette, he stopped me and said that pretty girls never light their own cigarettes.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, it like… did something to me.”

“Gross.”

He laughs, and she finally settles on a colour, using her finger to brush it over his eyelid. He flinches back for a moment before he relaxes again.

“And?” she prompts. She can’t stop smiling.

“It felt nice,” he says softly. “I haven’t been called a girl since I was a kid. At least not in like… a nice way?”

“Yeah?”

“I couldn’t really, like… laugh it off. And he could tell something was up, so after the kids left, we… talked.”

“Talked,” Robin repeats slowly.

“We talked,” he insists. “I explained everything, and he was really… sweet. And then we made out for a while. And stuff.”

“Oh my god.”

He grins.

She rummages for her brushes and looks though the eyeshadow again.

“Is he a good kisser?” she asks as she starts working again.

“Mm.”

“Don’t moan—”

“I didn’t moan, that was an affirmative noise. You’re so dramatic.”

“Whatever.”

“How’s Vickie?”

“Vickie…” She sighs, smudging the makeup carefully. “She’s great.“

“But?”

“But. I don’t know,” she sighs again, touching his chin to make him tilt his head. “We’re, like… really similar. Which I didn’t know until we started hanging out. But like… We even have the same haircut, Steve.”

Steve snorts, and she swats at his nose.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Anyway, she’s really cool, and I do like her, ‘s just… We went out a while ago and our waitress and another customer both thought we were sisters. Not even friends, Steve. Sisters. Which, like, I go out with you, people think we’re siblings, that’s fine, that’s kinda funny, you know? We’re best friends, we can be siblings, whatever. But a girl I wanna date? God, it was so awkward, Steve.”

“So you’re not seeing her again?”

“I don’t think so,” she sighs. “Maybe it’ll be more fun to hang out with her without, like… trying to be in a relationship with her? Think I’d like to be her friend. And…” She trails off, pulling her hands away from Steve’s face.

“And?”

She exhales, his chest tightening.

“God, I’m an awful friend.”

“I just told you I’m a girl with a dick and you said ‘That’s cool,’ and promptly started doing my makeup. You’re a good friend, Robin.”

He opens his eyes and looks at her. The makeup looks nice.

“And what?” he prompts softly.

She fidgets with the makeup brush in her hands, spinning it the way she spins her pens.

“I think… maybe part of the reason I’m not super into Vickie anymore because I might be kinda, really into, uhm. Nancy.”

She looks up at him nervously, but he just smiles.

“Cool.”

“Steve. It’s not cool.”

“It’s cool.”

“Steve.” She glares at him halfheartedly. “…It’s not cool.”

“It’s fine,” Steve says, smiling, leaning forward in emphasis.

“She’s your ex.”

“She’s my friend.” He reaches up and holds her chin. She can tell that Steve can’t see her clearly, his eyes not entirely focussed on her, but it doesn’t seem to matter. “And you’re my best friend. And I want you to be happy.”

She frowns, her eyes burning.

“You should go for it,” he says, letting go of her. She pulls his face closer, and his eyes fall shut.

“She doesn’t even like girls,” Robin grumbles.

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

He shrugs.

“I didn’t know I liked guys for a good while.”

“‘S true,” she mutters.

Steve smiles absently as she finishes his makeup, even when he tells her not to stab his eye with the mascara.

She leans back when she finishes, satisfied. His eyelids are a shimmery pink, soft blue fluffed out around his lash lines. His eyelashes are dark and long, his cheeks pink, and they flush even pinker when Robin says softly, “You look pretty.”

“You think?”

“Here.” She pulls his glasses off her shirt and hands them to him, reaching for the pocket mirror as he puts them on. His eyes widen when he looks into it, his smile softening.

“Oh.”

“You wanna try on a dress, pretty girl?” Robin asks, grinning.

“Can I?”

Her grin widens, and she scrambles out of bed to her closet.

He goes to the bathroom down the hall to change, and she sorts her makeup out as she waits.

“Robin, I don’t know…”

She looks up, and the makeup bag slips from her fingers. Steve is standing in the doorway, looking down at himself. The dress is blue, matching his makeup, and the skirt flows when he shifts his weight.

She sits heavily on the bed as he looks up at her.

“Woah.”

“Woah?” he questions, rubbing his hands over the dress. “Good woah?”

“Yeah,” she says, grinning, looking him up and down. She picked the dress for him to pick because it fit her weirdly, but it fits him perfectly, hugging his waist and chest. “You’re keeping that.”

“Wha— I can’t just keep your dress, Robin.”

“It doesn’t even fit me, Steve,” she says, still looking at him. “You’re keeping it.”

He looks back down at the dress quietly, running his hands over it slowly, and his lips curve into a small smile.

“…Okay.”

“Do you feel pretty?”

He pauses, swaying slightly and watching the skirt twirl.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I do.”

“Gimme a spin.”

He does, grinning brightly when she squeals excitedly as the skirt twirls around his legs.

“You gotta show Eddie,” she says, bouncing up and down in excitement. “He’s gonna love it.”

“You think?” Steve asks in a small voice, nervously.

“For sure.”

He tackles her onto the bed, and she cackles, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Can I do your makeup?” he asks after a minute. “Will you teach me?”

“Oh my god, yes.”

Steve is a fast learner. His hands are gentle as he runs the brushes and his fingers softly over her skin, and she thinks she could fall asleep here.

They take photos with her Polaroid when he finishes. One for her, one for Steve, and one more for Eddie, the bottoms all inscribed with S + R 1989.

She makes Steve take some makeup home with him the next day, just for days he wants to feel pretty. And for when he goes to Indy with Eddie.

~~~~~~~~~

“Munson residence.”

“So formal, Eddie.”

Eddie grins, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes to listen to Steve’s voice, slightly staticky over the phone.

“Gotta be, just in case. What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?”

“Not much, I just…”

Eddie tilts his head.

“Just?”

“Uhm. Can you come over?” Steve asks softly.

“Are you alright?” Eddie asks, standing up straight, furrowing his brows. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m— I’m fine, baby, I just… I have something to show you.”

“To show me?” Eddie repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Is this a surprise?”

“Yes?”

“Am I gonna like it?”

“I think so?”

Eddie grins, licking his lips and looking across the room at his shoes.

“I‘ll head over in a few minutes. ‘M cleaning the kitchen for Wayne.”

“Okay. More time for me to get ready.”

“Get ready?” Eddie repeats, raising his eyebrows, smiling and biting his lip. “My interest is piqued.”

“Good.” Steve is quiet for a moment, but Eddie can practically hear his smile. “I miss you.”

“It’s been two days, babygirl.”

“God, tell me about it.”

“…I miss you too,” Eddie says quietly, pulling his hair to hide his face.

“Lame.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, still smiling. “I’m gonna clean faster than I’ve ever cleaned in my life and then I’ll head over.”

“Okay. Uhm. Just come upstairs when you get here, don’t knock or anything.”

“Oh, I am so curious,” Eddie says adamantly, his stomach fluttering.

“Go clean.”

“Going cleaning. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Lame.”

Eddie hears him snort as he hangs the phone up, and his hands flap joyfully as he heads back to the kitchen.

If he speeds on the way to Steve’s, that’s no one’s business but his.

He kicks his shoes off at the door, looking around happily at all the shit the kids have left behind. Jackets and hats and worksheets and pens and dice.

“Stevie,” he sings as he heads up the stairs, and he knocks a quiet rhythm on his door before swinging it open. “Hey, sweet— Oh.”

He freezes, his smile falling as his eyes land on Steve, sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling up at him.

He’s wearing a dress.

A pretty blue dress that fans out over his knees as he kicks his socked feet, holding the edge of the bed. His eyes blink behind his glasses, his eyelids shimmery and pink, his lashes dark. His cheeks are flushed.

“Hi,” he says softly.

Eddie leans against the wall, shutting the door without blinking, and he slides to the floor. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes wide, and he exhales sharply. Steve giggles softly.

“Stand,” Eddie says softly, absently, and Steve does, standing and holding his arms out, swaying to make the skirt twirl a little bit.

“Wow,” Eddie breathes.

“You like it?”

Eddie blinks at him, his eyes scanning over the way the fabric of the dress stretches over his waist, the way the neckline dips to show his chest hair, the way the thin fabric of the short sleeves flutter when he moves. Eddie looks at his face, at the blush on his cheek and his shining eyelids, the way the mascara makes his eyes even brighter.

“Eddie?” Steve says softly, and Eddie blinks.

“You look beautiful, princess,” he whispers.

Steve’s face turns even more pink, and he slides his hands over the dress.

“Really?”

Eddie scoffs, gazing up at him. His whole body aches with the desire to touch him, and his chest is tight. He can’t really breathe.

“Jesus, Stevie.”

Steve grins, twirling the skirt again, and then he sits in front of Eddie, crossing his legs and draping the skirt over his lap carefully.

Eddie moves forward, swallowing thickly.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Eddie reaches out and slides his hands over Steve’s arms, squeezing his biceps gently, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder over the fabric.

“So pretty, Stevie,” he murmurs, kissing the side of his neck.

“Robin showed me how to use her makeup,” Steve says quietly. Eddie looks at him, at the shimmer of his eyelids.

“You did a good job.”

“You think so?”

Eddie reaches up and touches his face gently, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks, under his glasses. He gazes at him, at his eyelashes and the moles that spot his skin. His lips.

He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, pulls at it a little bit, smiling with Steve is pliant and parts his lips like Eddie’s going to press his thumb into his mouth.

“You ever think about lipstick?”

He kisses Steve before he can answer, and Steve smiles against his mouth, reaching to hold his face. His hands are soft.

“Might be a problem if I can’t keep my lips off you, though,” Eddie adds softly, holding Steve’s chin.

Steve hums.

“Could be fun to get it all over your face.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise.

“You are… awakening things inside me.”

Steve giggles brightly, tugging at Eddie’s shirt and moving up onto his knees, pulling Eddie forward and then pushing him to lay on his back on the floor.

Steve crawls over him, straddling his waist, setting the skirt delicately, and Eddie feels like he could cry.

“You look like a fucking angel,” Eddie says softly. “Holy shit.”

“What’s your favourite colour lipstick?” Steve asks, grinning, settling his weight on Eddie. His hands press over Eddie’s chest.

“Red,” Eddie says softly.

“What kinda red?”

“…Bright.”

“I’ll find some,” Steve says softly, leaning down, pressing on Eddie’s chest. He presses a slow kiss just beside Eddie’s mouth. “Mark you up.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says weakly, keening as Steve starts to press kiss over his cheeks and jaw. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Steve is gigging against his skin, gripping the front of his shirt.

“You okay?”

“Stevie, I got the prettiest girl in Hawkins holding me onto the ground and lovin’ on me, I’m so fucking okay.”

Steve sits up to take his glasses off, and he sets them aside before burying his face in Eddie’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~

It’s starting to rain by the time the girls get to Steve’s house. Erica pulls her hood up over her head and El is covering her eyes with a hand as they follow Max up the stairs, where she bangs on the door obnoxiously.

It takes a few seconds before Steve flings the door open, his eyes wide.

“Jesus,” he says when his eyes meet Max’s. “What the hell?”

“We’re having a girls’ day,” she says, looking up at him. He looks different these days. Lighter. His hair looks softer. His cheeks are pinker. And he smells different, warmer, less like a guys’ locker room.

“Okay?” he says, looking at Erica and El. “Why are you here?”

“They’re doing maintenance at my place,” Max says. “The guys are all at the Sinclairs’, and Jonathan and Argyle are getting high at the Byers-Hoppers’.”

Steve blinks blankly at her.

“We’d hang out at the quarry or something, but…” She gestures at the sky, and his eyes follow, looking at the dark clouds and the sprinkling rain. “Can we come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

He holds the door open for them. Max punches his side gently as she passes.

They go to the living room after kicking off their shoes. Steve takes their coats and hangs them up by the door.

“You guys need anything?” he asks as they get settled on the sofa.

Erica sets her chin on the back of it, looking over at him in the entry of the living room.

“Can you feed us?”

“Uh. I can order pizza.”

“Ah, fuck yeah,” Max says. Steve clicks his tongue.

“Language.”

“Can you get one with pineapple?” El asks. “Please?”

She’s Steve’s favourite.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, smiling. “Even though it’s gross.”

“Try before you deny,” El says lightly, turning to open her backpack. Steve scoffs.

“You spend too much time with Argyle.”

“He’s funny.”

Steve goes to order the pizza. Max puts on a movie while Erica and El sort through their nail polish collections, discussing which colours they want.

Erica chooses a vibrant purple. El chooses a coral pink. Max chooses a dark blue.

While they wait for the pizza, Steve brings them soda. Mello Yello for Max and Pepsis for Erica and El. Max sees his eyes linger on the nail polish, on Erica painting El’s nails carefully, meticulously. He seems to get stuck for a few seconds, watching almost curiously.

So the next time he comes in with a bowl of chopped apples and grapes and strawberries, she stops him.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“…Can I paint your nails?”

She’s almost joking, prepared to laugh it off, prepared for him to scoff and roll his eyes and say whatever. But he looks back at her for a moment, and then—

“Yeah, sure.”

El gasps in excitement, wiggling for a moment in her seat as she reaches for the bag of nail polish, careful not to mess up her nails.

“Wait, really?” Erica says, looking up at him, her eyes and smile wide.

“Yeah, why not?”

“What colour do you want?” Max asks as Steve sits on the floor in front of the sofa, looking up at her.

“You guys pick.”

He listens as they bicker together, and they eventually settle on a shade of pink so pale it’s almost white. Max expects Steve to argue or wrinkle his nose at it, but he just smiles and sets his hands out on the sofa for them to work.

“How do you do that so neatly?” he asks curiously, watching El’s hands.

She shows him, reciting everything Joyce told her a few years ago, carefully pressing the brush up near his cuticles, holding the tip of his finger to avoid getting paint on the skin around his nails, and he watches raptly, open-mouthed as if in awe. Max catches Erica’s eye over his head and they both giggle.

The pizza arrives as El is painting his right hand, holding it up close to her face, her brows furrowed adorably in concentration, and Erica goes to get it. Max holds slices in front of Steve’s face for him to take bites from as his nails are painted, and Erica does the same for El.

El asks Steve if he wants to try putting the top coat on her nails. He does, seemingly remembering everything she said, his eyes wide, brows furrowed, tongue poking over his lips in concentration. El smiles the whole time.

They put on another movie when they finish with everyone’s nails. Steve won’t stop smiling, glancing at his while they finish the pizza and fruit. El curls up against his side after she finishes eating. He presses a kiss to the top of her head.

Max lays her head on El’s lap, closing her eyes when she feels her fingers run through her hair, carefully untangling it.

When she wakes up, her glasses are on the coffee table next to the empty pizza boxes. She sits up slowly, squinting, and finds them before she looks at the others.

El is still laying against Steve, her cheek squishing against his chest, and Erica is on his other side, her legs across his lap, her face on his shoulder. Steve’s glasses are crooked, and his mouth is hanging open, his head resting on the back of the sofa. Max smiles, rubbing her face.

She stands, wobbly, when there’s a noise in the kitchen, and she quietly exits the room, squinting again, this time out of suspicion.

Eddie is at the stove, humming to himself as he scrapes eggs on a pan.

“Eddie?”

He turns, raising his eyebrows. He’s wearing a frilly apron, the words #1 MOM across his chest, a gag gift from the boys to Steve.

“Mornin’, Red.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Came by to see Stevie,” he says lightly, turning back to the stove. “Walked in on that sweet cuddle fest in the living room. I considered joining but I didn’t wanna wake you guys up.”

“Huh.”

She stretches, yawning and looking around the kitchen. Her eyes catch on the fridge. There’s a new Polaroid photo stuck to it with the drawings Erica and Will have given Steve. (There’s one of him as a knight. Max thinks that’s Steve’s favourite. He wouldn’t stop staring at it when Will handed it to him.)

She gets closer. Even with her coke-bottle glasses, her vision isn’t very good.

“You took a picture?”

She stares at it. Her own sleeping face, partially hidden by her hair, El’s hand resting on her head. El’s face on Steve’s chest, his arm around her, his other around Erica. In the photo, the pink of his nails is barely visible, but the angle shows the bottles of nail polish on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, scooping the eggs into a bowl. “Had to. Walkin’ into a cute scene like that. I’d paint it if I could.”

She snorts.

Eddie sits on the table when he finishes cooking. (Eggs and french toast, like was in a mission to use every egg in the fridge.) She sits down she can lay her head on his leg as he sips her coffee.

“Will you give me a tattoo when I turn eighteen?”

“I don’t know how to tattoo people, Red.”

“Will you take me to get a tattoo when I turn eighteen?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you want?”

“Hm.” She nuzzles into his leg, and he sips his coffee noisily, running a hand through her hair. She’s grateful he doesn’t have many rings on. “Maybe some Kate Bush lyrics.”

“Fuck, that’s smart. I should get some.”

She snorts.

“You a Kate Bush fan?”

“Definitely,” he says, his voice echoing in the mug before he sips again. “Kept you around, didn’t she?”

She tries, unsuccessfully, to suppress a smile.

The others join them after a while. Steve looks more awake than El and Erica, and Max wonders if he woke up and just stayed there for a while.

As the girls are serving themselves, Steve joins Eddie at the coffee maker. Max watches as Steve holds his hand up so Eddie can see his nails, smiling almost proudly. Eddie smiles in a way Max has never seen before. He looks like he might cry. They exchange a few words that Max can’t hear, and a nod, and then just as Max is about to look away, Eddie lifts Steve’s hand to his lips and pecks the back of it, his eyes shining.

Max’s eyebrows fly up, and she expects Steve to smack him away with a good-natured laugh, but Steve twists his hand to hold Eddie’s chin for a second, and then he turns away. He’s smiling. Eddie is gazing at him.

Max tears her eyes away, trying to suppress her own smile.

It makes sense, she guesses as she places slices of french toast on her plate. Why Eddie walks into the Harrington house like he lives there. Why last week he was wearing a red sweater that Max knew belongs to Steve. Why he calls Steve Stevie. Why Steve’s eyes follow him around every time the Party hangs out. Why he wears Eddie’s red guitar pick around his neck. (It’s usually under his shirt or sweater, but he has a tendency to fidget, and Max is observant.)

She douses the french toast in maple syrup.

“That is so much syrup, holy shit,” Steve says, staring at her plate, wide-eyed.

“It’s the food of gods, Steven.”

“Christ.”

She sits next to Erica so Steve and Eddie can sit next to each other.

#decided to turn it into a three part series #part three is the indy trip :))))))#v excited about it i have so many ideas #steve harrington #genderqueer steve harrington #robin buckley #max mayfield #eleven hopper #erica sinclair #eddie munson #steddie #stobin #platonic stobin #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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