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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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assistant to the dm, steve harrington
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'secretly studying nerd shit' rated t | 1,361 words | cw: mild language | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, d&d references (could be inaccurate since i don't actually play), banter that's also flirting
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
"I just don't understand why you needed to borrow my character sheets. You don't even know what most of this means," Dustin said as he handed over the papers.
"I just need to see something," Steve replied, taking the papers and adding it to his mess of a kitchen table. Other character sheets were strewn all over, most filled out, but some empty. A couple of books were open on random pages, recognizable images of weapons and monsters visible to anyone who walked by.
"Why does it look like you're studying for a college degree in D&D?" Dustin asked.
Steve looked up at him, eyes blank, mouth in a straight line. "Because I finally got accepted to Indiana State. Go away."
"Fine! I want those sheets back though!" Dustin said as he left Steve to his studying.
Hours must have passed, the light outside turning to dusk before Steve thought to take a break. His head hurt, his vision was blurry, and he didn't feel any closer to understanding a god damn thing.
He thunked his head against the table, letting out pained groan as his head throbbed.
"Are you looking for something or have you decided to finally play with us?" Eddie's voice said directly behind him, making him nearly fall out of his seat. "Shit, sorry. Thought you heard me come in."
Eddie's hands were on Steve's arms, squeezing, centering.
Like he knew exactly what he needed to lose the slight hint of remaining panic left in his chest.
"I was just trying to figure out if there actual dragons in this game or if that was also made up," Steve said, sitting back and putting distance between them. He couldn't breathe when Eddie was touching him, which was often. He was starting to worry about oxygen deprivation to his brain. "Disappointed to find out the dungeons part seems like it's up to the DM."
"The whole thing is pretty made up, Stevie. That's the point," Eddie smirked, but it fell away when Steve turned back to the messy table. "Are you, like, wanting to play?"
And this is why he wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe he shouldn't have had everything spread out in the open like this, but he'd assumed he was safe in his own home. With the door locked. And with Eddie supposedly playing the Hideout tonight.
He looked back at Eddie. "Why are you here?"
"Dustin said something about you not answering the phone after he left hours ago and you seemed pissed off or something," Eddie shrugged. "Just wanted to check on you."
"The phone? It didn't ring." Steve didn't think so anyway. He had admittedly tuned his surroundings out entirely once Dustin was gone. "But it's Tuesday."
"Uh huh. It is Tuesday. How long have you been sitting at this table?"
"Ha. Funny." Steve rolled his eyes. "You play the Hideout Tuesdays. Tuesdays are for Corroded Coffin, Wednesdays are for dinner with Wayne, and Thursdays are Hellfire."
Eddie blinked at him. "Yes, usually that's true. But, wait. Sorry. You have my schedule memorized?"
"I mean, some of it, yeah. The parts where I know you won't be nearby or easily reached."
Steve knew it was ridiculous, but how the hell could he make sure he was safe if he didn't even know what Eddie was doing?
Eddie looked like he wanted to say something else about it, but must have changed his mind. He pulled out the chair next to Steve, turned it towards him, and sat down.
"So you've been studying this stuff for..." Eddie leaned in, eyebrows raised in silent question.
"I dunno. A few weeks. I didn't have most of the sheets until a couple days ago though," Steve gestured towards the papers spread out. "I still don't really get it."
"You've been studying for weeks? Stevie, why didn't you just ask me or any of the kids to help explain it?" Eddie almost sounded hurt. "I've been playing for half my life! And I've been a DM for half of that!"
Truthfully, Steve was trying to learn so he could have conversations with Eddie about the stuff he liked. That was basically lesson number one on how to get someone to like you, and Steve had already tried the music thing and failed.
He just wasn't that into the echo of loud guitars and angry drums.
He couldn't exactly ask Eddie to teach him everything and then turn around and try to use what he taught him to flirt with him. That was lame and embarrassing.
"Steve?" Eddie had his hand on Steve's leg, leaning in further towards Steve. He must've been trying to get Steve's attention while he was lost in thought. "I'm kidding. I mean, I wish you'd said something sooner, but if this is how you get into it, I'm not gonna stop you."
"I just wanted to surprise you."
Steve could hear how pitiful that sounded, could hear the whine in his voice that he wasn't able to pull his plan off. As if Eddie would even care! Eddie was the most easygoing, laidback, chaotic person he'd ever met. He would just be happy to have someone else in his little club.
"Surprise me? For what?"
He was also incredibly slow when it came to feelings.
"Because I want to spend more time with you! Because I like you! Because I want you to like me!" Steve tried not to sound frustrated, but his headache was turning into a real problem, and he was tired, and sick of hiding things. Robin told him to just be honest, so he was. "I wanted to surprise you the next time Hellfire was here and have all this knowledge, but it's hard! I don't even know how you keep up with most of this, let alone all the characters? There's like...at least 800 options for how to use weapons and spells. I can't even remember half the races or classes or whatever. I don't even know if those are the same thing. And I keep getting distracted thinking about how you look when you stand at the end of the table and do one of those stupid accents."
"Are they stupid if they're this distracting?" Eddie was smirking, suddenly more confident than Steve had maybe ever seen him.
"They are stupid. That's why it's distracting. And I'm stupid for letting it get to me!" Steve leaned forward, put his head on Eddie's shoulder. The angle wasn't the best, but he didn't care. "You get to me so bad, Munson."
"You're kinda easy to get to, Harrington." Eddie's lips briefly pressed against the side of Steve's head. "Been waiting for you to catch up."
"What do you mean?" Steve pulled away. "I've been trying to get you to realize for months!"
"You came to one show at the Hideout. I think Robin's been to more shows and she's a lesbian."
"She told you?!"
"Steve, she spilled every secret she's ever had when she kept me company in the hospital. I think I know things you don't even know."
Steve let his head fall down against Eddie's shoulder again. "I should've known you were teaming up."
"I wouldn't call it that. She just wanted to look out for us," Eddie's hand cupped the back of Steve's head. "So what did you learn?"
"Probably nothing useful."
"Well, it's easier to be an active learner. I could use an assistant on Thursday if you want some hands on experience," Eddie's fingers scratched at Steve's scalp, melting his brain and making him feel like he was completely weightless. "If you just wanna watch, that can be arranged too."
"You don't let people watch," Steve mumbled against his shoulder, his weight sagging against Eddie.
"I think I can bend my own rule for my boyfriend, right?" Steve could feel Eddie's heartbeat quickening beneath his ear.
His face felt warm as he realized what Eddie was implying. "Only if your boyfriend can sit next to you."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Oh, and I'd like to trap Dustin's character."
Eddie snorted, kissed Steve's head again. "That can be arranged, too."
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klausinamarink · 3 months
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You’re Never Too Much
rating: T | cw: negative self talk | wc: 1.5k | tags: angst with happy ending, hurt Steve, arguing and making up, established relationship, post-canon | prompt: Love is giving them space when they need it
written for @steddielovemonth
Steve knows he can be unbearable with his partners sometimes. 
He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a switch that shuts down the sparkling fountain of love like his parents apparently possess. It just naturally flows his veins without pause and surges anew every day.
His first girlfriend Heidi had broken up with him three days into the relationship, saying that Steve was too much for her. He had been more confused than devastated back then because since when did hugging your girlfriend from behind with a kiss to the cheek become ‘too much’? It only confused Steve more when he saw Heidi’s new boyfriend doing the exact same thing with her and they’d been together for three months by then.
Steve had ignored the tiny pang in his chest, shrugged off Carol’s comments, and moved on. Maybe he and Heidi weren’t meant to be anyways.
But it kept happening with the other girls. Leaving romantic poems in the locker instead of make-out invites? Too much. A bundle of flowers after class? Too much. Wanting to cuddle after sex? Too much. Stay the morning after? Too much.
Then came Nancy and she had adored every one of Steve’s antics that none of his previous girlfriends had liked. He quickly made his own schedule of sneaking into her bedroom late in the evening to help her study because he loved her blush and the bright gleam in her eyes. The day when Nancy told him that he was a dork was the day when Steve felt his heart swell because finally, he wasn’t being too much. 
And then Barb disappeared and monsters turned out to be real.
Nancy stayed with him but it wasn’t the same anymore. She would still laugh at his corny jokes and affirmations but Steve had seen her distant eyes, no longer bright with the same love. Like she had managed to switch it off by herself.
Steve should’ve split up with her. But he didn’t want to be an asshole and leave her miserable with no support who knew nothing about the Upside Down. But she hadn’t pushed him away or told him his efforts were too much. So he stayed.
If he had left sooner, then Steve wouldn't have been told in a stranger’s bathroom that his love wasn’t just too much, they were bullshit instead.
He couldn’t trust himself with another romantic partner after that.
And then about two years later, he and Eddie started dating. 
Everything that Steve had been told was ‘too much’ or ‘bullshit’ became ‘give me more’. More lazy kisses in the morning, more cuddles on the couch, more help with the laundry or dishes, more lovemaking, more, more.
Steve also found out real quick that Eddie loved whenever Steve quoted Shakespeare - especially Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing - for no reason except to watch his boyfriend turn and scream delightfully into his own shoulder. Of course, Steve had taken his advantage, dialing it up with the Harrington charm just to make Eddie’s face redder. Whenever he thought that was too much, Eddie turned back around and kissed him with stupid smiles on both of their faces.
For a while, Steve had thought he finally found the perfect partner.
But he forgets that he doesn’t know how to shut his heart down.
Steve casually leans against the living room wall, acting totally non-suspicious as hides from view of the front door. He hears it swing open and then Eddie coming inside, the metallic clicking of his crane accompanying his steps. Steve waits just a bit longer until Eddie makes his way to the kitchen. Then he hurries around the corner and giddily wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, lifting the man up.
“Welcome back-” Steve starts, a petname ready to fall out as he’s ready to bemoan his loneliness. But Eddie’s cold tone makes his jaws instantly clamp shut.
“Put me down.”
Steve obeys, swiftly but carefully as not to agitate Eddie’s leg. He keeps his arms around his boyfriend, squeezing just once in what he hopes comes off as assuring. However, Eddie only stiffens and says in the same cold tone-
“Let me go.”
Steve does. Eddie continues on towards the kitchen, not even glancing over once. Anxiety starts to drill into Steve’s spine, already making its way into the lining of his stomach. Something clearly happened to Eddie that’s putting him in a foul mood.
Tailing after him, Steve finally finds his voice and asks, “Is everything okay?”
Eddie doesn’t respond. He plops down onto a chair, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders are starting to shake. The anxiety shifts into concern as Steve hurries over to his side. “Eds-”
Eddie suddenly slams his hands onto the table, startling Steve back. He whips his head around to glare at Steve, yelling, “Is it too much to leave me alone for one minute?!”
Too much.
Steve swallows the thick lump in his throat, mumbles something he hopes is an apology, and stumbles outside to the backyard. He stares at the pool for a second before he quickly rounds to the side of his house, stopping just along the walls where he always felt the sunlight wouldn’t reach. Steve slowly crouches down to the ground, staring at nothing in particular despite the burning pressure behind his eyes and heart.
He should’ve seen this coming. Actually, he had known the day when Eddie finally had enough of his unbearable actions was approaching soon. They’ve been together for nearly a year. Just as long as Steve had with Nancy before that Halloween party. But Steve’s been living in blissful ignorance, hoping that it wouldn’t happen.
But even that had been too much.
A wet laugh bubbles out of his lips and Steve quickly clamps a hand over it. He feels like a kid, hiding behind his house like he’s avoiding his father instead of Eddie. It’s so stupid but very on-brand.
He lets the tears drop, forcing his hand to remain on his mouth so he can stay quiet. He doesn’t want to upset Eddie anymore.
Crunching stones under shoes approach. Steve doesn’t even look up when he hears a sucking of breath and Eddie’s murmuring voice, “Shit, Stevie.”
Calloused, ringed hands gently cup both sides of his face. Steve barely catches himself from sinking into the grasp. It’s always too easy to enjoy the feeling of Eddie’s hands on his cheeks. Was it too much for Eddie as well?
“Stevie, please look at me.”
Despite his brain screaming at him no, Steve does so. Eddie’s eyes are bloodshot red and tracks of tears practically shine on his face. In another scenario, he would look as beautiful as ever. But instead, he looks like shit.
Eddie’s fingers tap on his hand, the one still clamping over his mouth. Steve shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to break down into a sobbing mess and demand Eddie’s comfort.
“I’m sorry.” Eddie rasps out, a line of spittle popping out of his mouth. His voice sounds rough like he had just cried. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Work was-” He closes his eyes, shudders out another breath, and opens them again. “What happened at work wasn’t an excuse and never should be. Even if I was exhausted and upset, I shouldn’t have lashed out. I wish I could take those words back, baby.”
Steve finally removes his hand, managing to speak coherent words just before the sobbing finally breaks out. “Am I too much though?”
He catches the horrified expression before Eddie suddenly pulls him forward into a tight embrace.
“You’re never too much, sweetheart. You’re just fucking perfect.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear, clear as day.
Steve doesn’t know how they spend kneeling on the ground as his entire body rattles out from crying while Eddie keeps holding him and occasionally gently shushing Steve. Eventually, Steve’s eyes dry out and he feels so tired that he just wants to tuck himself into bed and sleep.
Eddie helps him up and guides him back inside the house. They linger at the foot of the stairs, both of them realizing the same thing.
“Do you… want me to sleep with you still?” Eddie asks softly. He hasn’t let his hand go from Steve’s where it occasionally squeezes around his fingers. It fixes something in Steve’s heart but it’s barely enough to soothe the ache over.
“I-” Steve cuts himself off. Eddie looks at him earnestly, his brown eyes appearing to grow bigger with the still-there shining tears. Steve sighs and continues, “I think I want.. space. Just for tonight.”
Eddie nods, pursing his lips. “So do I. I think that’ll be good for tonight.”
“You won’t leave?” It hurts Steve to ask even though his gut is certain that Eddie will rather chew his hand off than leave.
“I’ll still be here.” Eddie raises a hand up with a small smile. “Especially in the morning when we’re rested and less pissed-off.”
Steve smiles back, “Okay.”
And when the morning does come, Eddie’s still here. When they talk and apologize, Eddie tells Steve again that he never thought of Steve as an unbearable boyfriend.
It makes Steve feel warm from the overflow of Eddie’s love.
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arelliann · 2 months
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@steddielovemonth day 19 - 'Love is the comfort of quiet moments' prompt courtesy of @tboygareth
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Morning cuddles, ft sleepy bedhead Eddie
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stevesbipanic · 3 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he’s into @sparklyslug
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If you'd have told Eddie of a year ago that the Steve Harrington, King Steve, swim team and basketball captain, and known laundry basket thrower, was a nerd he'd have laughed in your face.
Honestly, he'd have believed you more of you'd told him Steve was bisexual and would soon be Eddie's boyfriend, both facts that threw Eddie for less of a loop than learning Steve knew the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek.
"I work at a video store Eddie, it would be hard not to know."
Eddie would believe him but his darling boyfriend knew a lot for facts he didn't expect from the beautiful brunette. Like how he knew what an owlbear was when he was rambling his campaign plans in bed one night.
"I knew the kids before you, some of it must've stuck."
Or how he knew what Metroid was when the machine came to the arcade that summer.
"The kids are always talking about new little things they want Max to try and win."
Or when Eddie was telling a story about stargazing and Steve mentioned Halley's comet from earlier in the year.
"It was on the news, Eds, not gonna miss a thing like that."
Steve had lots of explanations but now here Eddie was, unpacking boxes in Steve and Robin's new apartment and staring at work copies of The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings books. He lent over checking the side again, no that definitely says Steve's Room in big bold letters.
He placed the books on the shelf with a small smile on his face. Later, curled up in the new bed in the new room he asked, "I thought you didn't know what Mordor was, Stevie. Have you been hiding nerdy shit from me all along?"
Steve had a soft blush forming on his face, "I didn't know, at the time..."
Eddie was now more intrigued, "Wow, getting book recommendations in the middle of the end of the world, baby, priorities."
Steve laughed, the sweet smile still on his face, "No, um, I bought them cause of you but not because of that."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"They're your favourite books and I wanted to know what you were talking about anytime we hung out and mentioned it."
"Steve did you actually study just to try and impress me?"
"There's a monster manual on the shelf too."
Eddie giggled and pulled Steve closer, "Mmm talk nerd to me baby, so it wasn't just the kids you got it from."
"Oh they definitely helped, I think Dustin was going to scream when I asked him to explain the dice of your game."
Eddie looked at his boyfriend softly, no one had taken an interest in what he liked, unless they already liked it, Steve went out of his way to know Eddie, inside and out.
"I guess I should confess, I totally asked Wayne to explain to me the rules of any of the games you two watch on tv before you come over."
A brightness twinkled in Steve's eyes at the confession, "I love you."
"Love you too, baby, nerd or jock as long as you're mine."
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oh-stars · 3 months
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Eddie Doesn't Share Food
Love is sharing food.
a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1131 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G
--
It’s a common fact among Hellfire that Eddie doesn’t share food easily. He can provide food to everyone and if he knows you’re going without, he’ll gladly give you all of his share, or at the very least a good portion of it. But outside of a necessity or hosting an event, Eddie’s not one to share. 
When they get a basket of fries for the table after games, Eddie takes handfuls at a time. He’ll eat one and place the rest on a napkin in front of him. He’ll eat a few here and there, grab a few more from the basket, and then eat the remainder from his napkin.
They’ll all be sharing bites and trying each other’s meals when they’re out to eat, swapping onion rings for fries and bites of steak for the grilled chicken, but not Eddie. Never Eddie. If you even ask for a bite of his food, he’ll give you that stare, the one he usually saves for his villain NPCs or when you ask a dumb question in Hellfire. 
So you can imagine Dustin’s surprise when Eddie splits his burger with Steve unprompted. 
“Are you sure, man?” Steve asks, taking the sandwich from Eddie’s hands. 
Eddie nods, already reaching to take a bite of his half. “Go for it.” 
Steve shrugs. “Want a part of mine?” He offers his plate, where his BLT is already cut in half and one side is completely untouched. 
“Sure,” Eddie says. 
Dustin looks between the two of them, unable to even touch his chicken fingers, as they go back to eating like this is a completely normal thing for them to do. And if it was literally anyone else other than Eddie fucking Munson, Dustin may be inclined to agree that it is. But since Eddie is the initiating party, it is assuredly not normal.
And he knows a thing or two about freaky things. 
“Close your mouth,” Steve says as he tosses a fry at him. “You’ll catch flies and I am not about to perform the heimlich because you decided to swallow flies instead of fries.” 
Eddie snorts, smirking through his mouthful. 
Dustin scrubs his face, then shakes his head so hard his hat nearly falls off. “What am I looking at?” he asks, eyes narrowed at Eddie. 
“We’re eating. It’s what you’re supposed to do at lunch, Henderson,” Eddie says. He reaches forward to thump the bill of Dustin’s cap so it falls over his forehead. “If you don’t hurry it up, we’re leaving you here and heading to the movie without you.” 
“You wouldn’t,” Dustin says. 
“Try us,” Steve says, shrugging as he wipes his mouth. 
Dustin opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s not about to goad Steve into a dare. He’s seen how that plays out one too many times. Instead, he vows to see if this is a singular occurrence or if it happens again. 
Which it does, the next week when they’re setting up for Hellfire. 
Eddie’s got a bag of chips in his hands as he looks over his notes, leaning back into his chair. They’re all talking amongst themselves as Eddie gets in the zone, regrouping for the session and filling in Jeff on what he missed since he had to miss the last session for a family thing. 
Steve brings a two-liter in and some red solo cups, filling it up for everyone who wants the pop. “What about you, Eds?” Steve asks, leaning against the back of Eddie’s chair. 
“Yes, please,” Eddie says, glancing up from his notebook. He’s holding a chip, has been for a moment, likely too lost in his thoughts to remember he was snacking to begin with. And Dustin has the honors of watching, horrified, as Eddie offers Steve the chip. Only, Steve doesn’t take it like a normal person, he dips down and lets Eddie place the chip into his mouth. 
“Thanks,” Steve says as he leaves Eddie’s freshly poured cup on the side table Eddie has next to his chair. Then he disappears back into the kitchen.
Eddie just smiles and goes back to his notebook, hand fumbling for the bag to grab another. 
Dustin whips around to his companions, eyes wide and gesturing toward their dungeon master. “You guys saw that, right?” 
Gareth’s eyes are narrow, but he nods. “He’s been brainwashed,” he mumbles. 
“Or maybe he’s just growing up,” Jeff says. 
“Eddie?” Mike scoffs. “Please. The guy’s so stubborn he’d rather die than give up his beliefs. And not sharing food is one of his biggest ones.” 
“Apparently not,” Lucas says, motioning to the bag of chips Eddie’s still digging through. 
It happens again when Steve comes back in to say he’s running to the store, pausing only to take the offered chip from Eddie, this time like a normal person. 
They don’t even get a chance to process it before Eddie’s announcing the start of the session. 
Dustin racks his brain on a way to bring it up, to investigate further, but once again, he doesn’t get the chance. 
He’s staying the night at Steve’s, with Eddie and Robin, to watch movies and celebrate Steve’s birthday in a lowkey way. The four of them are relaxing and enjoying the night together, simple and quiet in comparison to the party’s usual festivities. 
Steve dishes out the small cake Robin had made him, slicing and passing out plates to all three of them. He doesn’t take one for himself though. Instead, he plops back down onto the couch and practically sits on Eddie, tucking himself under Eddie’s arm. 
Eddie offers a bite of his cake, unprompted and like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. 
All Dustin can do is watch as Eddie and Steve alternate bites, eating from the same slice like they were a couple or somethi–
Oh. 
Dustin feels like his brain is hit with a thousand thoughts at the speed of light as it all falls into place. Huh. Okay then. He leans back into the recliner he’s sitting in, his own plate held close to his chest, and lets himself enjoy the too-sweet icing. It tastes like how he feels; happiness and wonder in the form of cake and icing. 
If Eddie’s willing to share his food with Steve, then he must really love him and that’s the kind of love Steve deserves. 
He feels like he could burst with happiness for his friends, for the possibilities this will open for them. Rather than express those thoughts, even if he really wants to, Dustin shoves the biggest bite into his mouth and does a little dance. 
Steve laughs at him, eyes all crinkly and bright even as he accepts another bite from Eddie. Yeah, Dustin could get used to seeing Steve that happy.
--
Thanks to @lady-lostmind for betaing!
Ao3 Link
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steveseddie · 2 months
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love is stored in a can of hairspray
rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189
tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together
for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji
a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!
click here to read on ao3
***
There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.
In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.
It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.
That is until today.
Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.
“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.
“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.
Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-
Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.
“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”
Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”
Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.
“That sucks, man.”
Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.
“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.
“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.
Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.
“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”
Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”
“Two weeks?”
“That’s when I finally get a day off.”
Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”
“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”
“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.
“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.
They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.
He steps inside and Steve closes the door.
Dustin stares at Steve’s head.
“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”
These fucking kids.
Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”
Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.
Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.
***
Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.
He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.
He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.
In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.
But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.
But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.
With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.
He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.
Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”
“Hey, Stevie.”
He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”
Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.
Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”
“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.
“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”
But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-
But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.
“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.
One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”
He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.
“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.
“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”
“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”
Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.
“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.
“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”
Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.
Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.
Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.
***
Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.
Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.
“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”
With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.
Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.
Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.
“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.
“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.
“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.
“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”
He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.
“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.
Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.
The same can’t be said about Buckley.
“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”
Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.
“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.
Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”
“Uh, yeah, I did.”
“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”
“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.
“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.
Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.
“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.
“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”
Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”
Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”
“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.
Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.
So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.
“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”
A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”
A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”
Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”
He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.
The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.
It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.
Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.
“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.
Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”
The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.
“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”
“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.
With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.
He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.
And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.
521 notes · View notes
hitlikehammers · 2 months
Text
take the call
rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love
for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)
set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️
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Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.
And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.
He gets a message.
“Eddie?”
He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.
“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”
He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.
Maybe, maybe scared.
Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.
“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—
“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:
“She found the phone at a car crash?”
So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.
Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.
“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—
“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—
“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“
Green.
Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—
“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—
He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—
“Where?”
_______________________
Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.
Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.
But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—
Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.
He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—
Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…
Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.
They were—
Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…
He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.
Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—
Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—
And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.
Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.
Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.
Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.
It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.
If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.
So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—
“Eddie?”
He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—
He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.
“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:
“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—
“Are you okay?”
And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…
It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.
Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;
“Am I okay?”
Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—
“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.
“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—
“Are you real?”
Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.
He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.
“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“
“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.
Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.
No one.
Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“
“And you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.
“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.
“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“
Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.
Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.
Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.
“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.
Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?
Eddie also has some fucking questions.
“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.
Steve blinks, frowns a little:
“It got lost in the crash—“
“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—
“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“
And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.
Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.
Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.
And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—
He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.
“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:
“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.
“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:
“They called the studio.”
“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—
“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.
“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:
“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”
And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast
“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“
“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”
Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.
Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.
“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:
“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:
“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.
“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:
“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.
“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.
“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”
Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:
“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”
“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:
It’s the same for me.
And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.
“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”
“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:
“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:
“Not ever.”
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eyesofshinigami · 2 months
Text
Boyfriend Privileges
Rating: T
CW: None
Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff
Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"
WC: 959
Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21
The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.
Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.
Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 
But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 
Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 
Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 
That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 
They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 
“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”
“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-
“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.
Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 
Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”
“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…
Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 
It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”
“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 
“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”
That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.
“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 
Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 
He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”
The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 
“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 
Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”
It’s worth the noise coming from the back.
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penny00dreadful · 3 months
Text
Rating: G tags: post-breakup, angst, hurt, wedding, happy ending prompt: Love is what makes you brave (@sidekick-hero) For @steddielovemonth AO3
Should he be here?
No.
Was he going to continue to be here for as long as he could take it?
Hell yeah.
Sitting behind the wheel of his stupid expensive car that would have stuck out anywhere else. 
But not here.
Not amongst the BMW’s and Bentleys and limos and wedding cars.
It had been three years.
Three long and fucking lonely as shit years since he’d last seen Steve.
Three years of writing songs about him.
Three years of dodging interviewer questions about who the songs were about.
Three years of the fans creating some nebulous phantom person that all the songs must be about because they all fit together like puzzle pieces if looked at correctly.
Three years since Steve broke his heart.
Eddie wasn’t even really sure what had possessed him to be here right now.
He hadn’t been invited.
But some kind of insane impulse had grabbed him when he’d first gotten into the car fourteen hours ago and it hadn’t left him since.
He needed…
He didn’t know what he needed.
He didn’t know what he expected.
His passenger door opening and a figure sliding into the seat nearly scared the life out of him, so lost in thought and with eyes laser focused on the church doors, he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.
He was forced to remember again that he was no longer some nobody living in bumfuck nowhere Indiana, he was a somebody, with a fucking penthouse apartment in New York City and an extremely recogniseable look.
Maybe he should have locked the doors.
And maybe he should have dressed down a little before he jumped in the car. Gotten rid of some of the jewellery, covered up the tattoos, tied his hair back, not worn the kind of clothes that always got him noticed in Hawkins in the wrong way. He was more noticeable now more than he ever had been. 
He was the most successful person to ever make it out of this shithole town and the town itself loved to pretend they always encouraged him. 
They advertised it proudly.
Like they hadn’t tried to drown his passions at every opportunity.
But it wasn’t some crazed obsessive fan now staring at him from his passenger seat, dressed in a pair of black slacks and an overly frilly lavender blouse, probably a compromise so she didn’t have to be stuffed into a dress.
Eddie tensed his hands around the wheel while Robin continued to stare at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, bewildered more than anything. He supposed that was fair.
There was no reason for him to be here after all.
He’d gotten no hint from Steve that this wasn’t what he wanted, none of the kids had said as much either but…
It just didn’t feel right.
It felt like Steve was falling back into a pattern.
Living the life that had been mapped out for him by society.
Go to school.
Get a good job.
Get married to a nice girl.
Eddie didn’t even know if the person that would be meeting Steve at the end of the aisle in about fifteen minutes was a nice girl.
He didn’t know anything about her at all.
Didn’t know anything about Steve either.
All he knew were the little tidbits the kids would occasionally drop by accident when they would forget they weren’t all one tightly knit group anymore.
Not since Steve shoved him out the door and told him that it wouldn’t work, it could never work.
Eddie suspected Steve had been looking at shadows on a cave wall for so long he had no idea there was a whole world just outside. That they didn’t have to live their lives the way everyone else did.
But there was nothing for it, he couldn’t force Steve to take him back. 
He’d told Eddie he didn’t want him anymore so…
Eddie went and got the life he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. He got the success and the accolades and he was being heard.
But it was empty. It had always been empty.
He had never been able to move on.
Not really.
And now… now he was here.
“Hey Buckley.” Eddie shot her a tight grin. “It’s been a while.”
And it had been. Because along with losing Steve, he’d also lost Robin.
It was understandable, really. 
Robin was Steve’s ride or die and though he’d heard she’d raised holy hell, trying to figure out why Steve had thrown his happiness away, as she herself had said, she was still, first and foremost, Steve’s soulmate.
She would be by his side come hell or high water and though she wasn’t happy with his decision, there was also nothing she could do about it.
Steve was a grown man and he’d made his choice.
“What are you doing here, Eds?” She asked again with so much concern, it was like she was worried Eddie was ripping out his own heart over again just by being here.
Maybe he was.
But he was here now.
He couldn’t leave until it was all over.
“Is he happy?” Eddie asked, rather than answer her question. They both knew why he was there anyway. “Is he happy with Miss… Whatever Her Name Is?”
Robin looked at him for a long time, eyes darting all over his face, chewing on her lip.
She took a big breath in. 
“He’s… content, I think. They both are. I think they’ve both… made themselves content with the situation.”
“Right.” Eddie nodded, tearing his gaze away and staring down at his hands.
He could feel Robin’s eyes boring into the side of his head.
“But not happy.” She said into the silence. “He’s not- I’ve never seen him as happy as he was when he was with you.”
Eddie tightened his jaw, tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes.
“Then why did he end it?”
“I think he was scared.” She almost whispered. “I think he didn’t know what to do with it all. There was no rule book to follow.”
“But that’s the best part, Rob.” Eddie sighed out. “There’s no rules for how we’re supposed to live our lives.”
He didn’t turn back to look at her, but he could see her nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.
“I think he’s started to realise that too, recently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you here?” She asked again, no longer willing to put up with his avoidance.
“I don’t know.” He said, mostly honestly. “One last big romantic gesture?”
Robin sighed, a hand on the handle. “Okay, wait here.”
“Hadn’t planned on going anywhere.” He muttered but it was drowned out as she slammed the car door, speed walking her way back to the church where a crowd had begun to gather at the door.
He tried not to let anything like hope bloom in him, he tried to keep any kind of bubble build up and puff him out but it wasn’t that difficult.
Especially when Robin made her way back to the car only a few minutes later, looking far more stressed than she had before and notably, alone.
“So, slight bump in the big romantic gesture plans,” she said, opening the door again but not getting in. “They’re missing.”
“They? Who’s missing?”
“Rita apparently got a call at the hotel before she was supposed to come here and then just disappeared, leaving her engagement ring behind. And then Steve left sometime when we were talking-”
“Left to go where?”
“I don’t know, Edward.” Robin grit out, tensing her fingers around the roof lip but it was more worry than irritation.
“Okay.” Eddie said, shifting the car into gear. “Okay, get in, we’ll go-”
“No. I’m staying here, I need to keep his parents from calling in the National Guard to drag him back by the hair. You go. You know where he is, don’t you?”
Eddie stared at her, opening and closing his mouth until he could finally form his lips around the words “I think so.”
He knew so.
Or at least he hoped he did.
Robin gave him one sharp nod. “Okay.”
She slammed the door closed and turned back to the crowd.
Pulling out of the parking lot of the church, Eddie tried not to panic. 
There wasn’t much distance that Steve could have gone but the idea of him going missing still had his heart constricting, full of what if, what if, what if?
It wasn’t very far, but finding somewhere to pull over at the edge of the forest where his car wouldn’t be suspicious wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
Though it was probably easier now than it had been years ago, since he no longer had the van and his shiny, sleek and expensive car would be glanced over for any bored cop looking to bust someone for drugs.
Not so much of an easy target now, huh Callahan?
He had just pulled his car into a clearing that was somewhat hidden when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.
He switched the engine off and was halfway out of the car when he froze, finally seeing the number on screen.
It was Steve. It had to be Steve.
He’d recognise that number anywhere, he knew it off by heart but Eddie had changed numbers at least twice in the last three years.
He hadn’t bothered to add Steve back into his contacts, what would be the point?
It would have just been a temptation on drunken lonely nights.
How the fuck did Steve even have his number?
Eddie tapped the answer button before the call could ring out.
His mouth was dry and his heart was in his throat as he raised the phone to his ear.
“Stevie?” He practically breathed, gripping the door so tight he was surprised he didn't dent the metal.
There was a sound from the other end, like a sigh, like relief or a release of tension.
“Eddie.” Steve said and his voice, different as it was through the phone, was the most painful and comforting thing Eddie thought he’d ever heard. It was followed quickly by a sniffle and a quiet, “Hi.”
Eddie had so many things he wanted to ask.
Why are you calling now?
Where are you?
Why did you run?
How do you even have this number?
Instead he just slammed the car door closed and asked softly “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
A sound came down the line, one that sounded suspiciously like a sob, followed by another sniffle.
“Can’t- can’t I just call to see how you are?”
Eddie didn’t answer as he started to tromp his way through the forest, half worried anything he said would just end up with him begging Steve to call him again and again and again.
But Steve seemed to take his silence as stony.
“Yeah, I-” Steve sniffed. “I guess I deserved that.” 
Eddie could practically hear his lip wobbling through the phone and Steve broke down into sobs again.
“Where are you, Stevie?”
“The past.” He muttered out which was as good a confirmation as any that Eddie was heading in the right direction. “I’m- I… I’m sorry to call you right now and you’re out living your life-”
“Are you sober?”
Because it was high stakes at the moment but this was still a lot of emotion for noon.
“Unfortunately.” Steve sighed out and then quietly, so quietly Eddie could barely hear him. “I’m supposed to be getting married today.”
“So I heard.”
It sounded like the air had been punched out of Steve’s chest and the whine he let out after sounded like one of pure pain.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie had to duck under a branch and as a result, nearly tripped over a root in the ground but managed to right himself.
“You’re sorry for supposed to be getting married?”
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. From- from someone else.”
He came to a stop. 
“Oh.”
Not sorry I’m getting married.
Just sorry I’m not the one who told you I’m getting married.
Which, like, Steve didn’t need to apologise to him for getting married.
They weren’t together.
They weren’t a thing.
They didn’t even talk anymore.
Eddie had no right to that information.
Still.
Didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Eddie.” Steve whimpered out, kicking Eddie back into movement again. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Stevie, it’s fine.” He sighed, resigned to his fate now. “You can still go back-”
“No, no.” Steve took a large painful breath in. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I left you. I made you go. How could I do that? Why did I do that? You were- you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I just-”
It sounded like Steve couldn’t speak anymore through hit tears, the raw anguish in his voice making it sound like he couldn’t breathe.
“I pushed you away. I pushed you away. I was so scared and I wanted- I wanted to take it back the second I did it. I wanted to but I couldn’t make myself do it and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry about that, baby. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”
The sound of Steve’s sobs were no longer just coming through the phone but were now starting to echo around him from just up ahead and Eddie kept walking.
“I was such a coward. There was no precedent. Nothing in my life was like what I had with you, I didn’t see it anywhere else and I didn’t know what to do. There was just this big vast emptiness in front of me where before there had always been a path, it had always been mapped out, telling me where to go next and I didn’t know what to do about it, I didn’t think it was possible to have-”
Steve cut himself off with another sob and Eddie could see him now, sitting on the dirty forest floor in his brand new designer tux, head bowed into his knees and his back against Skull Rock.
“I’ve made such a mistake, Eddie. I’ve never fucked up like I did with you and if I could take it all back I would. I’d be brave for you, I swear-”
Eddie dropped to his knees in front of him.
“Do you still want to be?”
Steve’s head snapped up so fast he cracked himself hard against the giant rock they used to come to all the time when they were full of young love.
Eddie winced in sympathy but didn’t reach out while Steve stared at him wide eyed, even through the pain.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Eddie.” He breathed out, completely disbelieving. “What- wh- what are you-”
“I was at the church.” Eddie said, sitting himself down fully and bringing his own knees up to his chest. “I was… I don’t know what I was doing there. I don’t know what I expected to happen.”
“You…” Steve blinked at him. His face was wet and blotchy and red, his eyes were raw and still swimming and he was still the most beautiful person Eddie had ever laid eyes on. And he was looking at Eddie like he was the most unbelievable thing in the world. “You were there the whole time?”
“Yeah.”
Steve’s hands were twitching around his knees, gripping into the fabric of his dress pants and Eddie could tell he wanted to reach out but he wasn’t sure he could handle that yet.
He needed to know.
He needed to be sure.
He didn’t think he’d survive it if he let hope back in only to have it pulled away again.
“What happened?”
Steve’s face scrunched up, like he was trying to push the tears back and he brought his hands up to his face, digging the heels into his eyes.
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. Rita, she… she- she’s not you. I couldn’t let her live a life with me waiting for me to love her like I still love you because it’ll never happen. I could never love anyone like I still love you. And she… she’s the same, she didn’t want this, she never wanted this but it was what we’d been told to want for so long and… she couldn’t do it either. So we both- we both ran and I want… I want to be brave for you, baby.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his lips into his skin, silent and thinking.
He couldn’t take it if Steve did what he did to him again.
He just couldn’t.
And why did it take Steve getting to this stage for him to decide on what he wanted?
Would it have still happened the same way if Eddie hadn’t come?
Would Steve have cried his heart out here in their spot until he was done talking to Eddie over the phone and gone about the rest of his life?
Would he have let the fear get to him again?
But could Eddie live with himself if he turned this chance down because of his own fear?
It wasn’t even a question.
He’d regret it for the rest of his life.
So he had to choose to be brave too.
He unwrapped his arms from around his knees and spread his legs wider, scooching forward until he had Steve’s curled up body cradled in his.
Steve all but stopped breathing with a dramatic hiccup when he felt Eddie’s legs against his own and when Eddie brought his hands up to encircle Steve’s wrists and pull them away from his face, his eyes were wide and disbelieving.
Eddie pulled Steve’s hands into his chest.
“I need to know you’re sure. I need to know you mean it, okay?”
“I do.” Steve nodded and his words were sure if a little breathy. “I do, Eddie. I promise you. I’ll show you every day. I’ll be brave for you I swear.”
“Because I won’t survive you doing what you did to me again. It nearly killed me the first time, Steve. I can’t go through that again. So you need to be sure.”
Where Steve’s hands were pressed flat against Eddie’s chest, his fingers curled in now, balling up the shirt underneath and holding on tight.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Eddie, I swear to you on… on… Dustin’s mom.”
Despite himself, Eddie felt his face crack into a smile.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Steve asked, though his own smile was slowly blooming, even as he started crying again.
“Yeah. Okay. Now kiss me like you mean it.”
AO3
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.
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sidekick-hero · 2 months
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(steddie | mature | 1.5k | tags: friends with benefits, Eddie Munson is bad at feelings, but Steve makes him talk about them anyway, at least in metaphors, emotional hurt/comfort | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is letting yourself be loved by @quinns-shadowy-arts | AO3)
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"Mm, where you goin'?”
Eddie winces at the sound of Steve's groggy voice calling to him from where he's still buried under sheets that smell of them. Of what they did between them just a few hours ago.
He didn't mean to fall asleep, but it was impossible not to with the comforting weight of Steve on top of him, wrapped in soft blankets and Steve's warmth and musky smell.
"Home. Go back to sleep." Eddie whispers softly, as if Steve will forget he's here if he's just quiet enough.
No such luck, for Steve Harrington is nothing if not persistent.
Strong hands that Eddie had just felt on his body earlier that night, their shape as familiar to him as his own, lift the blanket to reveal Steve's naked body. "Come back to bed, Eddie."
They don't do this.
Well, Eddie doesn't.
He's not the type to overstay his welcome, he'd rather leave by choice than be asked to.
Steve never asked him to leave, but he doesn't ask Eddie to stay either. At least not as bluntly as now. He usually approaches Eddie cautiously, like a feral dog you find chained to a fence. Feeding it scraps so it won't bite when you get close.
Steve has been feeding him scraps of warmth, of gentle touch and tenderness, of affection, for months.
And like a dog chained to a fence, Eddie is helpless but to take them. He's starving for it, deprived for so long that the mere promise makes him salivate. Willing to take whatever morsels of love and care Steve is willing to offer him, but never asking for more. Never trusting for more.
Never inviting Steve closer for fear that one day he'll bite. Not because he wants to, but because that's all he's learned.
Because it's the only way he's learned to survive.
"Steve," he begins, not knowing what to say next. Don't ask me that. Don't want me to stay. Don't want me.
Don't love me.
The room is dark because Eddie didn't turn on the light when he slid out of bed looking for his clothes. The only light is the moon shining through Steve's window, but it's enough to illuminate Steve's face.
He doesn't look dejected at Eddie's rejection, doesn't look angry or sad or irritated.
The look on his face is painfully soft, not pity, but understanding and sorrow.
Steve throws the blanket completely off his body and climbs out of bed as well, his movements slow but determined. Eddie could just turn and walk away and Steve would let him. Probably would not even mention it again.
He never does. He never asks Eddie why he always leaves right after, the sweat on their bodies still warm on their heated skin and the marks of eager hands and mouths still to be seen.
Eddie doesn't know why, but today is different. Maybe it is because they fell asleep together for the first time, Steve's face buried in his neck and his soft hair tickling Eddie's nose. Their limbs intertwined, their skin fused by sweat and cum and a magnetic pull Eddie doesn't want to name.
A warm hand reaches for his own, cold from standing naked in Steve's room in the middle of the night. Steve reaches for his other hand, too, and warms it between his, like when they were out at the quarry and Eddie forgot his jacket again.
"Why do you keep running away from me?" Steve asks, his voice as soft as his face. Eddie knows Steve isn't asking to hurt him.
It still hurts. It reminds him that he's a coward who keeps running away. Steve may have been changed by all that Upside Down crap, but not Eddie, oh no.
Eddie Munson was still a coward. Running away and hurting anyone who dared care about him, just like his father.
Searching for words, but for once at a loss for them, he looks at Steve helplessly. A pit forms in his stomach, telling him that if he doesn't get this right, he might lose Steve. At least the Steve who kisses him softly and holds him like he's precious while he falls apart in his arms, gasping and moaning and shaking because nothing can feel this good and yet it does. Every. Single. Time.
He can't even fathom the thought, the idea of a life without Steve in it.
"'m sorry," he mutters, defeated.
He's pulled in by Steve's hands until they're so close their chests almost touch, Steve's face inches from his. So close, he can see the moonlight in his eyes and the hickey Eddie carelessly left on his neck, right above his favorite twin moles.
"Don't be. Just... tell me what you're so afraid of? Because every time I think... every time I let myself think that maybe you want this, too, you pull away. Even further away than you were before. I feel like if I let you walk out that door right now, I won't see you for a week, won't be able to touch you the way I want to, need to, for a month."
It's hard to hold Steve's gaze, but Eddie thinks he wouldn't be able to look away if a portal to the Upside Down opened right next to them.
"If you don't want me, or if you," a deep breath, as if the next part is going to hurt, "if you can't love me, then that's okay. It's okay, Eddie, I promise. You can tell me."
The way Steve's voice wavers at those words tells a different story, but he holds Eddie's gaze with the same kind of stubborn bravery with which he faced down monsters.
And that's the last straw for Eddie. To know that Steve thinks he's the problem. Acting like not loving him was ever an option for Eddie.
"Ever hear of the butterfly effect?"
Steve shakes his head, his eyebrows knitted together in an adorable expression of confusion.
"It basically says that something as small as the flap of a butterfly's wings can potentially set off a chain of events that could lead to a major change in the weather and create a hurricane, for example."
When Steve still looks like he has no idea why Eddie is telling him this, Eddie takes Steve's face in his hands and with the same courage he used to face a swarm of demonic bats, Eddie tells him, "When you came into my life, that was my butterfly effect. It changed everything. For the better. You are my butterfly, Steve Harrington, the flap of your wings changed the trajectory of my life."
"But why -"
"You're my butterfly, but I'm afraid I'm your hurricane."
The words are between them now, out in the open, his mouth giving birth to his fears.
Steve keeps looking at him, though, his expression thoughtful, processing everything Eddie just said. It's fascinating to watch a myriad of emotions wash over his beautiful face until, after a long moment, it settles on a smile that looks dangerously like hope.
"Me being in your life means that much to you?" Steve asks and Eddie decides that Steve deserves to know without the slightest doubt.
"It means everything."
"But you're afraid that... if you let me in, you'll hurt me?"
"That's what I do."
Steve hums as he processes this.
"Have you ever thought that maybe the butterfly needs the hurricane to fly because it needs the wind under its wings?"
He beams at Eddie after saying this, as if he has cracked the case, and his hands settle over Eddie's, still cupping his face. Eddie wants to argue with him, but the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to think that Steve is right.
"You changed my life too. Without you, I might never have kissed a boy. Without you, I might be working meaningless jobs until I retire instead of finally doing what I wanted to do in life and applying to community college to become a teacher. Without you, I might still be living under my parents' thumb, never standing up for myself."
"They kicked you out, you had to couch hop for months," Eddie argues, but it only makes Steve smile brighter, his thumbs rubbing soothingly along the back of Eddie's hand.
"Yes, I have, but Eddie, don't you see? You help me fly! You make it easy to fly because your wind carries me."
And Eddie never looked at it that way. Maybe he has to start.
He'll have to think about it without Steve's beautiful face in front of him and his warm, tempting body inches from his own. But he already feels something loosening in his chest, his heart lighter than before.
Kissing Steve gently, as gently as a summer breeze, he links their hands and pulls Steve back to the bed. They slide under the covers, the hurricane enveloping the butterfly in it's warm embrace.
Maybe the hurricane can be loved by the butterfly, Eddie thinks as he drifts off, wrapped around Steve.
Stranger things have happened.
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steviewashere · 3 months
Text
Cuddle Bug
Rating: General CW: None apply for this one! Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Cuddling, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is feeling safe."
💕—————💕
The first time it happens, Eddie doesn’t say anything. Sort of just reigns himself for a night on the sofa, stiff to the cushions, hands spread and tight by his sides. Steve fell asleep on top of him. His snores directed right over Eddie’s heart. And Eddie is hopeless, really, helpless, too. He didn’t say anything or do anything. Even though he had to pee. But, when he thought about it, Steve had been especially tired—beyond spacey the entire day they hung out. So it was for the best that he just ignored whatever was happening. Eddie let himself fall asleep, too.
However, it kept happening.
Almost every time that Eddie came over. When he would lay on the length of Steve’s couch. Arms loose by his sides. The television on low. Steve would enter the room with a bowl of popcorn. He’d sit on the floor, make Eddie comb his fingers through his hair, and eat his little bowl of food. Then, at some point, he’d let out a jaw cracking yawn, stand to his full height, pop every vertebrae of his spine, and gently ask, “Can I lay on top of you? It’s okay if that’s too—“
“Just lay down, dude. You’re blocking the show.” And sure, maybe Eddie would be a little snippy with it. But not too rough. Not too dejecting. Because he liked Steve, loved really, and he would let Steve do anything to him.
Steve would lay down on him. His right arm tucked between Eddie’s body and the couch, his other arm dangling to the floor. Head cushioned on Eddie’s chest. Eyes pointed at the television. Yet, fifteen minutes in, he’d close his eyes and begin snoring. He’d jerk with the movement. Go boneless against Eddie’s torso. And Eddie would just have to deal with it. Because in no way is he going to be the one to make Steve lose even more sleep. No way. No how.
So it happens. And it keeps happening. And maybe Eddie’s heart is starting to do stupid things. And maybe Eddie just gestures to his body when Steve is done with the popcorn. And maybe, sometimes, his hand hovers over the back of Steve’s skull, ready to land on his hair, ready to just cup him there and hold him gently, like he deserves. But he doesn’t allow himself to touch. Not at all. Just wondering what it would be like. To just hold him. Not play with his hair. To carefully embrace him, that’s all.
Except, it happens one night when Robin’s over. And Eddie knows he won’t be able to explain the dynamic.
They’re watching something on the TV, as usual. Steve’s on the floor. Eddie’s hand is in his hair. They’re eating from the same bowl of microwave popcorn. Robin’s honk laughing in the recliner. And all is well.
Until, “Can I lay down on you?” Steve asks. And Eddie, without really acknowledging much of anything, just waves his hand to his torso. Steve stands from the floor, pops his spine, wipes his greasy hands on his sweatpants, and settles down over the length of Eddie’s body. He cushions his cheek. And he sighs contently.
The colors on the television reflect on his face. Blue and pink and purple and pink. Pink and red and red and green. Then, pink and pink and pink and pink. And then he’s snoring. He’s snoring. His body is jolting with it. Relaxing into the tight line of Eddie’s body. And Eddie holds his hands up from his sides. A hand hovering over the slight curve to Steve’s spine. The other, over his head, fingers twitching to settle in his hair.
Robin must look over at some point. She whispers, raspy and gentle, “He only does that around the people he loves and is most comfortable with.”
“What?” Eddie squeaks back, attempting to be quiet.
“He only does this with the people he loves,” she explains, “when he hasn’t been sleeping well. And he feels like he can trust you. Like he thinks that you’ve got him? He cuddles like this.” She makes the recliner creak. Her footsteps soft on the carpet. She’s crouching in the corner of Eddie’s eye. Her face looking onto Steve softly. “He says it helps him with the nightmares. He gets them too much. Doesn’t sleep through the night unless somebody is there with him. To hold him. You should hold him.”
And, she does the oddest thing, she stands up and leaves.
Like, leaves the room, leaves the house kind of leaving. And Eddie panics a little, because, What? What is he supposed to make of that?
The only logical thing is following her advice. One hand on Steve’s spine. The other cupping the back of his head. His middle finger tickling over Steve’s exposed temple. He sighs into the hold.
But then Steve stirs a little. “Robbie?” His sleepy voice slurs.
“It’s Eddie,” he says. “How about we get you to bed upstairs, cuddle bug?”
“Mh,” Steve grunts. “Tired.”
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Eddie assures. “We can go to sleep upstairs. I’ll cuddle with you, if you want.”
“Really?” Steve murmurs, voice going quieter, nearly back asleep.
Eddie shifts his hold. Squeezing a little. “Yeah, Stevie. Let’s go upstairs and sleep, okay? I’ll keep you safer up there.”
“Okay,” Steve mutters.
“I got you,” Eddie promises.
“Got me,” Steve utters back. “Hands got me.”
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, “Hands got you.” And resigns himself to carrying Steve to his bedroom. Plopping him down on the bed. Getting under the covers. And holding him to the side of his body. Warm and content. With something, he can taste it, like love.
💕—————💕
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
it's not ever what it looks like
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'
rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.
Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.
But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.
Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.
But not daily for over a week.
He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.
And now this article.
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.
The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.
Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.
It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.
Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.
He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.
All of them had said mostly the same things:
I can't get ahold of Eddie.
He wouldn't do this.
Something else is going on.
Call me when you can.
The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.
He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.
Steve called Gareth.
"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."
"What's going on?"
Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"
"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."
"Steve-"
"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"
"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"
"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."
Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.
He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.
Until now.
It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.
No time to wallow.
He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.
"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."
"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.
She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"
"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.
"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"
Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.
Steve nodded once.
Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."
"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.
She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.
His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.
Eddie walked through his door.
He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.
"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.
"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."
The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.
He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.
The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.
He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.
He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.
"I needed to explain-"
"Right."
"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."
Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.
"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."
Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.
He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.
"No, Steve, you don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."
Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.
Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.
Many of them from Eddie himself.
"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.
So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.
But then he started playing the voicemails.
"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."
"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."
"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."
"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."
Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.
"Well?" He asked, broken.
"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.
"Great for him."
"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."
At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.
But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.
"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.
"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."
Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.
But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.
Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.
Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.
He just needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”
“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”
Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.
“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”
“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”
“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”
“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”
“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”
Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.
Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”
“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.
That bastard.
“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”
“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.
“What?”
“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.
“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”
Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”
“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."
Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."
"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"
"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."
"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."
"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."
"So you're not saying no?"
"Why would I say no?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."
"You're ridiculous."
"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.
"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.
"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."
"I'm not doing that."
"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."
"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."
"The sooner the better, sweetheart."
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steddiehyperfixation · 2 months
Text
so you don't get lost (steddie ficlet)
written for @steddielovemonth day 17 rating: T cw: alcohol tags: first kiss, clubbing, college au, platonic stobin prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost
“She’s totally into me, right?” Robin asks as they wait for their drinks at the bar, her smile a mile wide, and it’s been a minute since Steve’s seen her smile like that. 
“Yeah, totally,” Steve agrees. The girl Robin’s been talking to all night is drifting back over to them even as they speak, the two of them like magnets since they first traded smiles on the dance floor earlier that night. 
Robin glances back at her and bites back a wider grin. She bounces on her tippy toes and whispers to Steve, “If I make out with her it’s not gonna make you feel awkward, is it?” 
Steve shakes his head. “Go ahead,” he encourages. 
It had been a group effort to get Robin out tonight. Her university friends had enlisted Steve to help drag her out of the mopey funk she’d been in since getting broken up with two weeks ago, and it had taken an hour of Steve hyping her up while she kept crying off her attempts to do her makeup before she finally managed to make it to the club. He’s just glad it had been worth it. 
“I don’t even know if I remember how to do this,” Robin mutters, a little nervously, as she and Steve grab their drinks and rejoin her friends on the dance floor. But it turns out, she has nothing to worry about. The two girls resume their orbit around each other, and the second the next beat drops and the lights strobe, the other girl finally pulls Robin into a heated kiss. Steve watches this, and he smiles fondly. She deserves it. He’s happy for her. 
And he’s totally not jealous. Not necessarily of Robin, obviously, or the girl she’s kissing, but simply of the fact that they’ve so easily found a hot drunk stranger to make out with at the club and he…hasn’t. He can’t even remember the last time he’s had a decent kiss, much less scored at a club, though not for not wanting to. 
Steve finds himself glancing at Robin’s friend Eddie, the tatted-up metalhead Steve’s felt a pull towards since the first time they’d met. He thinks about kissing him every time they’re out together, and maybe there was a time when Steve would’ve just gone for it, a time before he’d taken a few too many hits to the ego and developed doubts and insecurities, but now the thought just makes him nervous. Eddie makes him nervous. 
He feels that nervousness now as Eddie catches him staring and he shakes those lovely dark curls out of his face and smiles at him. It bubbles in his stomach, flutters in his chest. Steve downs the rest of his drink and looks away. The alcohol floods heat through his veins and blurs his vision, but the ever-present thrum of anxiety just from being in Eddie’s proximity still isn’t dulled. He bobs numbly to the music, avoiding looking at anybody at all now, only staring at the floor or the wall or some super fascinating point just above everyone’s heads, sure he looks like an absolute freak. 
It goes beyond just wanting to kiss Eddie; Steve’s not stupid, he knows the only explanation for this sheer amount of nervousness he feels around him is that he’s got an actual, proper crush. Because not only is Eddie super fucking hot, he’s also sweet. Steve is an outsider in this group and he knows it, the college dropout who only tags along because Robin insists on it, but Eddie never makes him feel like that. It’s always Eddie who makes sure he’s included in conversations, always Eddie who makes a point to loop Steve into the context of inside jokes and stories whenever Robin is too distracted to. Steve craves those interactions, gets a thrill every time Eddie so much as speaks to him. So he doesn’t only want to kiss him, he also just wants Eddie to like him, wants him to see him as a friend at the very least. But it’s not like they’ve ever even hung out outside of a group setting, and sometimes Steve fears Eddie’s just being nice and he doesn’t actually see him as anything at all. 
Steve’s drifted so far into his own head he doesn’t realize his group is on the move, pushing deeper into the dance floor and leaving him behind. 
“Steve!” Eddie’s voice calls out to him and snaps him out of it. Everyone else has been taken by the crowd, but Eddie hangs back, reaching his hand out to Steve. 
Steve takes it, swallowing down the way his heart pounds as Eddie’s fingers curl around his hand. Eddie pulls him through the throng of jostling, sweaty bodies, and even though he maintains a tight grip on Steve’s hand, he still keeps looking back at him like he’s making extra sure Steve doesn’t get lost. Warmth blooms in Steve’s chest. Maybe he’s just drunk, maybe he’s just delusional, but all of the sudden he feels so very very cared for. 
“Thanks,” Steve says, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. 
“‘Course.” Eddie smiles as he turns around to face him. They’ve caught up to their friends now, but he’s still holding Steve’s hand. “I’d never just leave you stranded.” 
Of course he wouldn’t. He never has before. Steve just smiles back and squeezes Eddie’s hand. 
They’ve only just let go of each other when Robin and her girl, still kissing clumsily and staggering about the dance floor, stumble straight into Steve and knock him off balance. “Woah!” Eddie reaches for him again instantly, looping an arm around Steve’s waist to keep him from toppling over or careening into the crowd. 
“Ah! Sorry!” Robin giggles before she’s whisked away again. 
Eddie laughs. “Good for her, right?” 
“Yeah, good for her,” Steve says, watching his best friend spin out of sight, and when he looks back he startles at how close he and Eddie are, suddenly very aware of Eddie’s arm around his waist and his hands on Eddie’s chest. 
“You okay?” Eddie asks, his grip on Steve tightening like he means to steady him. 
“Yeah, thanks again.” Steve regains his footing, but he doesn’t pull away. There’s something there, he thinks, in the way Eddie’s always reaching out to him so he doesn’t get lost, literally and figuratively, in crowds and conversations. It could just be friendly, it could just be nothing, but for the first time, Steve lets himself hope. He even thinks about leaning in right now, but then he thinks about it too much, and he doesn’t. 
Instead, there’s a weird moment where they’re both just staring at each other. Eddie’s got this confused little smile on his face like he’s waiting to see what Steve will do, and when Steve doesn’t do anything, Eddie’s smile abruptly becomes more playful as if he’s trying to break the tension, and he starts theatrically swaying them to the music, even though it is most definitely not the swaying sort of beat. Steve laughs, his racing heart making it come out giddy and giggly, especially when Eddie drops his waist to grab his hand and twirl him around. 
Eddie pulls him in close again then, and this time Steve doesn’t think at all. In fact, it’s unclear which one of them leans in first; all Steve knows is that their lips finally, finally meet in the middle and he finally, finally gets to tangle his hands in Eddie’s hair, and it’s sweet and it’s hungry and it’s absolutely perfect. Steve holds onto Eddie and he gets lost in him. 
When Steve meets back up with Robin outside after the club closes, they exchange a celebratory, congratulatory high five, the both of them with matching kiss-swollen lips and dates set for next week. 
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shares-a-vest · 3 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 2: Love is... Bodies touching, whether it's soft cuddles or sliding together towards orgasm (Prompt by @eyesofshinigami)
wc: 349 | Rated: T for suggestive language (all the spicy stuff has already happened *wink wonk) | tw: None
Tags: Cuddling, Aftercare (-ish)
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Eddie isn’t sure how long he has been staring at Steve’s Little League trophy. But he’s just about certain he is now inspecting it so closely – even from the distance of the sweaty comfort of Steve’s bed and tight embrace – that it needs dusting.
Their breathing has evened out now, bare chests pressed together and moving in perfect sync.
Steve is tucked between the crook of Eddie’s neck and a rather crumpled pillow as they lay together, legs intertwined amongst twisted bedsheets.
Eddie runs a delicate finger up Steve’s back, moving over the scars that rise and fall like valleys and sweeping hills as he continues to stare ahead.
He isn’t sure if Steve is even asleep yet. The guy usually conks out after a few minutes. But his body still feels tense – as if he is clinging onto Eddie like a liferaft.
Plus he isn’t snoring at the volume of a lawn mower directly in his ear either.
“Steve?” he whispers.
“Hrmpf?”
He puffs out the sweetest little sigh, his breath ghosting across Eddie's shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he says, unsuccessfully hiding a gulp and a sniffle.
Tonight was quiet and slow. Tender and painfully gentle.
They get like that sometimes.
And it’s a lot – during and after. Enough that Steve got a little teary as they were lazily cleaning up enough to fall against the mattress in a heap. Enough that Eddie feels tears prickling up now as he thinks about this very new and overwhelming desire to clean Steve’s bedroom.
But he’ll have to be brave and dare ask where the vacuum is first.
Steve loosens his grip, lifting his head just enough so Eddie can get a look at him.
His eyes are hooded, sleepy of course. Eddie can feel a barely-receded blush creep back up his cheeks as Steve’s eyes search his teary own.
“Yeah,” Steve answers, giving a small smile, “Are you okay?”
He detangles himself enough to reach his hand up and swipe a thumb under Eddie’s eye, catching a stray tear.
Eddie nods and pulls Steve closer.
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stevesbipanic · 2 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 24: Love is the only thing we can take with us. 
@thefreakandthehair
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Steve looked around his room, it would be the last time he did. He could hear his parents still arguing downstairs. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, soon he'd hear his father's footsteps coming up the stairs.
"You're no son of mine!"
Steve hadn't felt like his son in a long time anyway. When he thought of dads he thought of Hopper at his graduation or Wayne watching the game with him. He'd called Hopper, Dad, when he woke up in the hospital and saw the previously dead police chief at his bedside. No, Steve Harrington hadn't been Richard Harrington's son in a long time.
He knew he didn't have much time, but he'd been planning for this moment, the day they would find out. It was inevitable, small town, nosy neighbours. Steve kept his room impersonal for a reason, it wouldn't last forever. Kneeling quickly he grabbed his box, it was all he would need.
The clothes he actually liked wearing weren't in this closet anymore, the beemer had always been in his name. Nothing else in the house mattered but this box. The last piece of Steve in these four walls.
"Steven?"
He'd asked her to call him Steve all his life, she didn't.
"Can't you see what you're doing to your mother?"
Maria Harrington hadn't been Steve's mother in a long time. Mothers were there for their kids when they woke up from nightmares. Claudia never judged when he woke up screaming on the couch. A true mother looked after their son when he was sick in bed, soup and comfort and love. Joyce brought him soup last winter, when the flu had him stuck in bed, he didn't even call, she just knew.
"I know, I'm leaving now."
"Please, Steven, there are places we can go to fix you," she cried. Mothers don't think their kid's heart needs fixing.
"You were supposed to be a real man!" Richard yelled as he passed him down the stairs. Fathers are proud of their sons growing into protectors and carers.
"This will never be your home again!" Was the last thing Steve heard as he closed his car door and placed the small box on the passenger seat. Parents always have a home waiting for you, even when they think you're wrong.
"Steve?"
Wayne is the first one to spot him as he arrives at the trailer. It's sunday, family dinner at the rotating family table. Tonight was meant to be at the Munsons.
"Steve, honey? You ok?" Joyce is the first one to touch him, worry in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, son." Hopper is the first one to read his teary eyes like a book. They all knew where he'd been.
Claudia gingerly took the box from him, "I'll put this in your room, sweetheart, let Eddie know you're back home."
Steve could hear the kids yelling around the picnic table outside; could smell dinner cooking. Robins laughter piercing though the air and Eddie's boombox playing loudly.
"Baby?"
There he was.
"Hey, Eds, think we'll have to move up that moving date, if it's ok?"
Eddie's features softened from worry to sympathy, "Course, sunshine, although I'm still surprised Joyce and Hop didn't kidnap you months ago.
Later, when he'd given everyone hugs goodbye, some were a bit tighter than others, he sat on the bed with his box.
"You wanna unpack that alone, or want help?"
"You can look, it's not a secret, just special," Steve replied, patting the space next to him. Eddie plopped himself down beside his boyfriend, lifting the lid.
Inside was a mess of bits and pieces. Eddie reached in and took out a stack of photos. Steve at his graduation, a big smile with Hopper's arm around his shoulders, Dustin beaming beside him. Robin putting Steve in a headlock at the quarry last summer, he refuses to say he let her win. Eddie at his first show back, scars on full display. And countless other memories.
There were also little toys from the arcade and pebbles and ticket stubs and letters and a full life story of one Steve Harrington told through the love of his family.
"This was all I went back to get, all I needed. Wasn't expecting them to know about you already, but I knew they'd find out one day. Couldn't let them have this, not after they spent so long trying to take my heart from me."
"I think it's high time we clear some space around here for all this, Stevie, time to let your love be out on full display."
When Steve fell asleep that night, wrapped in the arms of a boy who went to hell from him and staring at the new photos on the wall, he truly felt home.
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klausinamarink · 2 months
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He Want Kiss
rating: G | cw: none | wc: 630 | tags: post s4, getting together, first kiss, Steve is down bad | prompt: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him
written for @steddielovemonth
Steve is obsessed with Eddie’s lips. 
Like completely to the point that he might actually start going to therapy. 
But Steve is just a simple man. He sees a pair of well-rounded lips that can make a perfect smile with dimples and he’s a goner. For example, look at Eddie. They’re so plump looking that Steve cannot believe it’s legal. And the way they move whenever Eddie speaks-
“-ink I should go for this one?”
Steve snaps his gaze up, barely surviving from the combination of head whiplash and the pointed attack of Eddie’s eyes, Jesus Christ, look at them Bambi eyes.
“Oh yeah, man.” How Steve manages not to stutter is both a mystery and a blessing. 
“Yeah?” Eddie looks at him, his expression mixed with expectation and nervousness.
“Yeah.” Steve repeats confidently. He’s already forgetting what exactly they were talking about but he knows it has to do with Eddie trying to get a job, hence why he called Steve over to help him out with the few applications that believe in Eddie’s innocence. “Like, yeah, go for that.” 
Christ, he might as well bash his head again. Steve really doesn’t want to come off as a douche again, but it’s not his fault that Eddie’s lips are just right there. They’re just begging to be kissed.
Thankfully, Eddie seems pleased by his answer. He smiles, dimples and all - oh lord please have mercy on Steve’s soul because he cannot handle the adorableness any longer - as he says, “Well, if Steve Harrington says so, then I will do it.” Then Eddie starts biting his lip, glancing down at the resume they’ve polished together. 
Steve digs his fingernails through the jeans over his thighs, but it’s not enough to bat away the growing temptation to reach forward and brush his fingers over Eddie so the other man wouldn’t abuse his lips anymore. The skin had already been cracked and bleeding in the past few months and it’s always so devastating to see Eddie hurt a part of himself like this.
Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Steve should kiss him. 
Eddie is right there. While there will be lots of opportunities to have him at Steve’s side, there’ll never be another perfect chance like this. 
Steve leans forward a bit but stops himself. Has Eddie ever been kissed before? If he did, does he like the faint touch of lips brushing together? Like smashed together? Full-on make-out sessions that lead to something more passionate? 
Okay, Steve could work on the slow route. He’s done it before with his previous girlfriends. He could lean in at a snail’s pace so Eddie has enough time to register what’s happening and-
“Steve?”
Suddenly, Eddie’s face is much closer than Steve remembers. He feels a heat of breath against his lips. Then the rush of realization comes over Steve because he was about to kiss Eddie.
Yet despite this, Steve barely feels a sense of embarrassment. He stays in place, staring into Eddie’s wide eyes as they flicker over his face, lingering on Steve’s lips every few seconds. 
Finally, Eddie huffs out a nervous little laugh, “You, uh, listened to what I just said?”
“Hm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine and whatever Eddie does next, he’s going to scream at the heavens anyway. 
Eddie’s lips form the briefest of smirks, but it’s gone in a blink. They part open slightly. 
Steve can’t hold it anymore. He closes the space between them and meets Eddie’s lips at last. It’s more rough and desperate than he plans it to be and tries to dial it back. But when Eddie kisses him with a similar force, Steve goes screw it and kisses back like it’s their last chance.
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