berenwrites

[berenwrites]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable.

Steve had met Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Dustin left with the entire band's signatures on his phone case and Steve had left with Eddie's number. The rest was pretty much history.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

[berenwrites]

tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington

🩵💥🩵

“Someday, you gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.

But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.

Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.

But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.

Enter Steve.

Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.

So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”

Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”

Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.

He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.

Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.

Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?

Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.

Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”

Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.

Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”

Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”

His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”

Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.

What could it hurt? Steve thinks.

Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.

Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.

Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.

And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.

To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.

And Steve follows.

Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.

[berenwrites]

"I know the hospital has a shortage of donations and Mrs. Byers hasn't been able to get you blood bags recently. Just take mine for the meantime, before Henderson has the brilliant idea to stab his arm and offer his instead."

"Sure... W-wait, are you serious?"

"What? Something wrong with my blood? Look, I'm no vampire expert but I assure you it's gourmet shit, guaranteed."

"I think I'll be the judge of that"

Part 2

[berenwrites]

*protectiveness overload*

Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

[berenwrites]

Jumping in this trend, better late than never 🦇

[berenwrites]

“Let’s kill that demodog!”

[berenwrites]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

[berenwrites]

Fairytale

A (late) birthday drabble for @penny00dreadful, because I can’t write fast to save my life ✨

“And then,” Eddie continues, and his voice is so low Steve can really only feel the rumble of it, feel the vibrations in his chest more than the words themselves, “the knight realized something very important: the dragon had not been holding the princess hostage. The dragon was there to slay all those who were unworthy of her.”

Eddie’s fingers dig into his neck, Steve’s head on his chest, and knead into the hot, curling pain that radiates up Steve’s spine and across his scalp. Eddie’s voice is calm. Low and soothing, like it always is on nights like this.

“And so the knight laid down his blade. For how could he slay which protects the one which he hopes to love? And when he rested it on the ground, and stepped away, the knight saw the fire in the dragon’s throat dim.”

A set of headlights flash through their closed blinds and Steve flinches, the pain that had begun to drain flaring at the harshness, only to have Eddie’s free arm come to cover his face, his elbow curling over Steve’s eyes, blocking the violent light.

Eddie goes on, his voice unwavering, the fairytale falling from his lips as soothing to Steve’s throbbing migraine as anything a doctor has ever prescribed him, and he’s able to relax once again.

“No words were exchanged between the two. The knight did not know if the beast could speak, but the common tongue was not needed between him and the fire-breather, for the moment their weapons were dropped, the knight believed they finally understood one another.” Eddie’s hand moves from his neck to behind Steve’s ear, his thumb rubbing gentle circles where he knows the pain rests, and Steve melts further into Eddie’s embrace.

“And so the knight bowed to the creature which had protected the princess from all who had been unworthy. And although he was beaten and bruised, and although his joints protested, and his ribs smarted where the dragon had struck him previously, he bowed deep, knowing that the creature could still see him as one unfit for the lady that lived in the high tower above, and end his life with a mere swipe of that taloned foot.” Eddie pauses, shifting, for a moment, to reach for the glass of water from their bedside table. The pain in Steve’s head is waning, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

It’s a new story on each night like this. Almost always does it involve dragons or knights or princesses or bards, the battle of good versus evil, of true love or destiny. Each and every time lights and sound and movement become too much, Eddie talks until Steve sleeps.

“But the dragon did not end the young knights life. The dragon, for the first time, saw someone who would respect the princess. Would respect her and love her the way she deserves.

“And thus the dragon carried the knight up to the highest part of the turret by the only way how: with five beats of her great and powerful wings, perching herself at the very top. Only then did the knight see the staircase built from the roof and down, ensuring only those who earned the dragons favor could hope to see the princess.”

Steve’s breathing deepens, and Eddie kisses the top of his head.

He continues, lips against Steve’s hair, ruffling the strands, “the dragon extended one of her scaly blue legs, assisting the wounded knight to his staircase.”

It grows harder for Steve to hear what Eddie’s saying. He feels the tendrils of sleep, finally, beginning to wrap around him, his boyfriend’s story tucking him in.

Steve knows without hearing it how the story will end. That the knight will earn the princess’s favor. That the two of them will fall in love. That they will rule the land fairly and justly under the protection of her loyal dragon. That their kingdom will prosper for all of their days, because Eddie is a sucker for a happy ending.

Steve knows, but doesn’t hear, because he falls asleep, at last, to the comfort of knowing it will.

Permanent tag list 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade

[berenwrites]

*flip* *flip*

[berenwrites]

kinda I want to (steddie, 1.5k, T)

Eddie gets home from work to music playing louder than usual from the kitchen. It’s not Steve’s latest obsession, at least—the guy gets fixated on one single record at a time and listens to it over and over again, singing along with his regrettably beautiful voice until Eddie’s learned every fucking word to every fucking song in Dream of the Blue Turtle against his will. It’s a problem. 

He hangs his leather jacket over Steve’s blue-and-purple hoodie on the overcrowded coat rack, straining his ears. It feels vaguely familiar, but he can’t quite—

It’s nothing of Robin’s he can immediately place, either. Synth-pop, kind of dancey, except not New Order-bouncy. He takes off his boots and starts making his way to the kitchen. It kind of sounds like Depeche Mode? But the voice is wrong. Tougher, a little strained, a little… whiny? What the fuck is it?

He still hasn’t placed it as he gets to the kitchen. Steve doesn’t hear him approach—he has his back to the door, hands plunged into the suds-filled sink and he’s humming along to the mystery music. Eddie doesn’t step into the room yet. He needs to listen a bit longer, buy himself some time. Steve will think he knows what the tape is, and he’ll ask about it, and Eddie will have to admit that he doesn’t, and—

It’s a matter of principle, okay? He’s a musician and he works in a record store! He should be able to place whatever his less musically-educated roommate is listening to! Harrington catches him by surprise all too often, even after the nightmares they survived, even after moving to the city together, even after sharing this apartment that Eddie might refer to as shitty to get street cred with his intimidating goth co-worker at the store but is actually really nice, and warm, and by now probably, if Eddie’s being honest, feels more like home than Wayne’s, due in no small measure to Steve’s endless thoughtful little touches. The pink bathroom and the pale yellow walls here in the kitchen. The basil and mint on the windowsill. The mismatched wooden chairs, painted a glossy dark brown, set around the aqua blue formica table. It is but one of many surprises that Steve is just, like, weirdly good at—

The next song starts, and Eddie knows what they’re listening to. It’s something Pearl, the aforementioned goth co-worker, put on at the store a few times last week. Nine Inch Nails. Great band name, Eddie’ll give them that. Phallic and blasphemous at the same time? He’s almost jealous, honestly. They’re not metal, though, so it doesn’t count.

Eddie feels himself relax. He actually opens his mouth to finally say hi like a normal person, but then Steve starts bopping along to the beat. His legs bounce lightly, the movement rippling rhythmically through his thighs, his back, up to the soft curve of his shoulders. And it’s like Eddie can see what will happen if he announces his presence—Steve will turn to him, and smile, and say hi back. He’ll stop dancing. He’ll be embarrassed.

So Eddie stays right where he is. He doesn’t say a word, barely breathes at all, really. He surreptitiously leans one shoulder into the doorjamb because he needs some support during this difficult time. Steve is energetically brushing away at a gross saucepan, and his humming has turned increasingly coherent. “Your kiss,” he sings along with the second repetition of the refrain, shaking his hips. Your fist,” he croons, rinsing off the saucepan. “Na-na-na, na-na, under my skin.”

Because the thing is—and Eddie had noticed it already, pointed it out to Pearl in fact, who’d agreed with him, it should be noted—these lyrics are, uh, pretty gay? And so, and so, this, plus the dancing, isn’t helping one bit to rein in Eddie’s inconvenient, unrelenting crush on his roommate cum best friend cum life-debt beneficiary. He usually does a pretty good job of it, if he can say so himself, but it’s a daily struggle, of course, what with Steve looking like that, and being so sweet, and funny, and delightfully bitchy. There have been times—times! Moments, even. Steve coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and drip drip dripping on the hardwood floor. Steve coming in after a run, flushed and sweaty and smelling like—

Eddie has turned out to be a much stronger man than he thought he was, let’s put it this way. Also, a constant source of free entertainment for their other roommate, who laughs in his face daily and slings baseless accusations about being able to cut the sexual tension with a knife in this fucking apartment.

Robin Buckley is unhinged and dangerous and should mind her own business.

As if the gay lyrics and the dancing weren’t enough, Steve’s wearing the good jeans, too: the Levi’s that send Eddie’s brain straight (ha!) back to the hallowed halls of Hawkins High, to his own sneaky, risky, guilty looks and the way light-wash denim clung to—not that Steve has any bad jeans, as such. And not that these could be the same jeans he had in high school: that pair was painted on, Eddie remembers it well, and Steve’s not as svelte as he was back then. (Personally, Eddie thinks he looks even better now, but that’s neither here not there.)

Eventually, he starts feeling less like he’s fondly witnessing his good friend’s moment of joyful abandon to the music and more like a fucking creep, so he leaves the safety of the threshold to take a step toward the boombox and turn down the volume. Not by much! He definitely doesn’t want to discourage Steve from turning shit up to eleven.

As expected, Steve startles, freezes, and his shoulders rise up toward his ears. He half-turns toward Eddie, doesn’t stop rinsing the saucepan under the tap. “Oh hey,” he says. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He looks caught, as if Eddie had surprised him doing something way more damning than listening to some music that’s a bit out of character.

Eddie clears his throat, steps closer, tries very hard not to look at the water splattered over Steve’s white tee and the enticing tiger stripes of see-through fabric on his belly, pink with skin and dark with hair. “Hey yourself,” he says, normally. “What in the world are you listening to?”

“Oh, this?” Steve says, gesturing toward the boombox with a couple of wet fingers. He sets the saucepan to dry, face down on a towel on the counter. “Just something Jon thought I’d like, I dunno.”

“Jonathan Byers,” Eddie clarifies, taking another step closer. “Lent you his Nine Inch Nails tape?”

“Gave it to me, actually,” Steve says. He shuts the water off and roughly wipes his hands on his jeans to dry them off, turning fully toward him.

“Gave it? To you?” Eddie repeats, less normally. What next, a fucking mixtape? he thinks, scoffing internally. “He’s—giving you music? I—”

I’m the only one who can do that! he wants to say. He also wants to kick his feet like a toddler. He does neither, because Steve steps closer still. He steps closer still, and he tilts his head in such a way that somehow brings him to look through his lashes at Eddie, even if they’re exactly the same height, and he asks, “Why, are you jealous?”

Eddie gulps, swallows nothing. He thinks of Robin’s smug, smug face and resigns himself to being mocked for the rest of his natural life. He would pay a steeper price, honestly, if that means he can— 

“I am,” he admits. “I’m really fucking jealous.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asks. He presses one hand to his chest. It’s still damp, and the warmth seeps through the fabric of Eddie’s shirt.

“Uh-huh.” He nods, stepping forward so his leg slots between Steve’s. “That’s my job.”

The stupid music is still going, another track change. How can you turn me into this? After you just taught me how to kiss, the guy whines, and it’s a bit too on the nose, right, as the soundtrack to a first kiss? But then Eddie touches his lips to Steve’s and allows himself a cliché: the music fades.

He pulls back, just a second, just to see what Steve’s face looks like from this new vantage point of a handbreadth away, but Steve had his eyes closed and he frowns as he opens them again. “Eddie,” he says, low, serious. “Don’t you want—”

“I do, I do, fucking—of course I do,” Eddie mumbles against Steve’s lips. “Jesus.”

Steve laughs, and then he takes Eddie’s fumbling first kiss and makes it ten thousand times better, angling his own lips and Eddie’s with a gentle hand on his jaw. “God, finally,” he sighs between kisses, pulling him closer.

+

Later, Robin finds them on the kitchen floor, very much not fit to be seen. To her credit, she doesn’t even shriek much.

“Seriously? In our shared kitchen?” she says, looking down at them with her hands on her hips. Unimpressed, but with a smile dancing on her lips. “Happy for you dinguses,” she adds. “I’m ordering pizza.” Then she turns and leaves them to the thirty-seconds walk of shame to their rooms.

Or, well, to Eddie’s room. Steve trails after him and Eddie’s sure as hell not sending him away. Not now, not ever.

[berenwrites]

*screams into the void*

[berenwrites]

𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

steve harrington/jonathan byers for @hawkinsmicrofic's april prompt: spring, 444 words. ft. summer romance, steve swimming, jonathan ogling said swimming | T rating read on ao3

Every Sunday, Jonathan Byers mows the lawn of the Harrington property. 

Every Sunday, Jonathan Byers arrives at 8AM, gets the keys to the main garage, gets the lawnmower out and gets to work. It takes him a few hours to do both lawns. The Harringtons’ back yard is not small. That’s alright, though. 

Every Sunday when he’s finished, Mr. Harrington pays him generously, and it means Jonathan has extra spending money in the summer that he wouldn’t usually. 

Something else Jonathan gets to have is an unfiltered view of Steve. 

It didn’t start out that way. He never saw Steve the first few times. But then Steve started coming out to the pool around 10AM. He’d already be in his swimming shorts, stretching before getting into the water. 

Jonathan started wearing sunglasses after that so he could watch Steve unencumbered. 

Steve would never speak to him, generally didn’t really acknowledge his presence, and Jonathan was okay with that. He gets exercise, money, and something pretty to look at. He could have a worse Sunday. 

This little routine dies the day that Steve calls over to him while Jonathan is mowing around the patio next to the pool. 

“Hey! You wanna take a break and swim with me?” 

Jonathan looks up, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Steve’s standing on the springboard, squinting over at him in the sunlight. 

“Um,” he swallows, glancing at the house. “I don’t think Mr. Harrington would like that.” 

“He went out for the day.” 

Oh. 

“I— I don’t have anything to swim in.” 

“I have shorts you can borrow,” Steve calls. “Watch me!” 

Jonathan shuts off the mower as Steve walks confidently to the end of the springboard. There’s droplets of water sparkling in his chest hair already and it makes Jonathan’s tongue go dry. Steve goes into the air with the kind of grace Jonathan never pictured him to have, perfect form as he dives, all tanned skin and muscle. He re-emerges laughing and throwing his soaked hair around, swimming to the edge. He’s so beautiful it kind of gives Jon a stomach ache. 

“You can swim, right? C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

Jonathan slowly takes off his sunglasses, having run out of excuses. He already takes orders from one Harrington. What’s one more? 

Every Sunday, Jonathan Byers mows the lawn of the Harrington property.

Every Sunday, when Mr. Harrington is busy, Jonathan Byers swims in his pool, with his son.

Every Sunday, Jonathan Byers goes to Steve’s bedroom to get changed into his own clothes, both of them dripping water all over the rug while they kiss the taste of chlorine and summer off each other’s skin.

[berenwrites]

for the @steddielovemonth prompt, day 16: Love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can’t tear yourself away from them just yet

Pls go and read @thefreakandthehair 's and @sidekick-hero 's accompanying fics!! Here's Steve's and here's Eddie's POV! ❤️

[berenwrites]

Reblog if you love AO3 and appreciate their volunteers who are working harder than God, fighting battle after battle, making sure the place that is a safe space for every fandom is staying up and running for all of us

[berenwrites]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[berenwrites]

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: fool | words: 454 | rated: T

"Am I a dumb hoe?" Steve asks out loud, more to himself than anything.

Robin blinks at him and seriously considers his question. "You're never dumb, but you used to be a hoe."

Steve sighs and fights the urge to throw himself under the library counter. "Maybe I should go back to being a hoe."

Robin snorts. "We both know there's only one person you want to do that with."

Steve immediately thinks of Eddie. He's been nursing a crush on him since Eddie showed up at the library three months ago looking for this Horror book that is also one of Steve's favorites. Through becoming friends, Steve's feelings towards Eddie have shifted to something... more.

Not that Steve has acted on it.

"I'm just a fool, then," Steve announces out loud.

"Who called you a fool?"

Steve almost throws the book he's holding. "Eddie?"

"Here we go," Robin murmurs and, traitor that she is, leaves Steve alone with his crush.

"Who called you a fool?" Eddie asks again, scowling. "Do I need to beat someone up?"

"Like you could do that," Steve blurts out despite himself.

Eddie, for his turn, doesn't look angry. Instead, he nods. "You're right. I could spread some mean rumors about them, though."

"I called myself a fool," Steve explains. "Thank you, though."

"I will always defend your honor, Steve." Eddie rests his elbows on the counter and leans into Steve's space. "But why are you a fool?"

Right, Steve thinks. This is his chance.

By the way Robin gives him a thumbs up from behind Eddie right before she dips back to hide between the stacks, she agrees.

"Well," Steve starts. "There's this guy I like."

Eddie's face is a blank mask. Nothing gives him away. "Oh?"

"And I've been meaning to tell him."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "That you like him?"

"Yup. But I haven't exactly..."

"Gotten the guts to do it, right," Eddie adds. "I totally get that."

Steve swallows hard. "You do?"

"Yeah." Eddie leans even further into Steve's space. Steve's stomach flips when he says, "I've been sort of going through the same thing."

"Yeah?" Steve whispers, not moving away.

"He's this cute librarian I met some months ago, right here." Eddie taps the counter with a finger. "Maybe you know him?"

"I might," Steve replies, fighting back a smile. "And I might have on good authority that he likes you back."

"That's good," Eddie murmurs. "Is he gonna be upset if I kiss him at his work place or—"

Steve doesn't let Eddie finish. He grabs him by the front of his Metallica shirt and kisses him, firm and sweet, and feels Eddie smile against his lips. Somewhere between the stacks, Robin whistles.

[berenwrites]

Steve agrees to play npc parts for Eddie's big one shot that he's been planning forever, but only if Eddie will play basketball with him. So they meet Lucas and Max at the court in the park and Eddie will not shut up about everything.

It's hot, his shorts are rubbing his legs weird, the sun's too bright. Just in general being as annoying as possible. It doesn't bother Steve even a little, he's too busy being smug about getting Eddie into basketball shorts at all. Sure he was still wearing a band shirt, but the shorts were a win.

It starts pretty normal, Max is absolutely ripping them apart verbally and it's working weirdly well to balance out her actual basketball skills, which are nothing to write home about. Eddie whines everytime hes got to run up or down the court, but he does ok at controlling the ball and manages to catch it when Steve throws it to him.

Steve's being blocked by Lucas who's the same height now, and Max is running for Eddie and the ball. Steve's yelling at him to throw it, just aim for the net, and he does. He sinks it, the ball barely touches the rim. He shouts in victory and runs to Steve for a congratulatory kiss, losing the ball to Max, completely worth it.

Over the course of the next few minutes he sinks two more. Steve calls for a pause in the game and simply hands Eddie the ball and tells him to shoot. Another basket. He moves him farther back and Eddie makes it again. Eventually he's standing at the free throw line having scored 7 consecutive baskets and he looks at Steve in wonder and says

"hey, I think I'm good at this?"

Max and Lucas are losing their minds, Lucas is somewhere behind him saying "of course he's good at this." Over and over again.

Steve can't decide if he's more frustrated or charmed, but what he says is "what the fuck, we could have won the championship if you hadn't been a nerd."