steddiebylerfixation - Tumblr blog

steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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y'know like barbie

ao3

It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.

The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.

Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.

It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.

It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"

So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"

Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.

"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.

It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be.

"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."

Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."

He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."

"Famous last words."

He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.

“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”

“That’s not how you play Barbies.”

It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”

“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”

“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”

“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”

“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”

Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”

“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”

“Right.”

So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.

Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.

“Like father, like son.”

“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”

“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”

“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”

“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”

“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”

Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”

“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”

Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.

It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”

See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.

“I know, like Barbie.”

That shuts Dustin up real quick.

“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”

“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”

“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”

The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.

He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.

The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.

And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.

So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”

He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”

And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”

“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”

Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”

“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.

It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.

Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.

Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"

Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.

"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."

"What so not like Barbie?"

"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.

He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."

It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.

“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”

He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.

El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”

She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.

“You are worse than Dad.”

“That stings, Ellie Bell.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”

“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”

“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”

He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”

“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”

He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.

"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.

"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."

He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.

Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.

His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.

It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."

And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.

He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."

Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.

Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.

And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."

Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."

Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.

"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.

"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."

"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."

And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."

Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."

Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"

"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.

"The girls don't think I'm hot."

He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.

"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.

"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."

"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."

The things he'll say to get laid.

"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though."

His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.

"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."

He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.

So he lets opportunity pass him by.

He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.

Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)

Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.

He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.

He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.

Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.

He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.

When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.

"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"

"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.

Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic.

He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.

"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"

"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.

"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.

"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.

"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.

"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."

Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.

"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."

"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."

"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"

"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.

"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"

"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.

"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.

"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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Thinking about Steve and Eddie being totally clueless about their sexuality because they both had bro friendship which was more of a romantic relationship but they didn't know so they think whatever they're doing is just bros being bros.

Thinking about Robin being the only one aware of herself and those two idiots and losing her mind because of them.

*getting ready for Pride*

Steve: *rainbow stickers on his cheeks* how do I look?

Eddie: wow you're so pretty

Steve: ah thank you bro

Robin: what the fuck

Steve: *upset*

Robin: what happened

Steve: I had a date two nights in a row and I didn't have the time to see Eddie

Steve: it is outrageous

Robin: what about going on dates with Eddie?

Steve: ahaha you're so weird

Robin: *screams into a pillow*

Eddie: ... and she's like cool and all but, I don't know. She isn't my type

Robin: what's your type

Eddie: I don't know, someone who cares for their people, someone who acts like the parent of the group, maybe my same height, hot of course, and strong

Eddie: like, I think they should have the strength to pick me up, that would be hot

Eddie: and with gorgeous hair

Robin: sounds like someone I know

Eddie: What??? why haven't you introduced her to me yet???

Eddie: *DMing a campaign*

Steve: *sighs* isn't he cute?

Robin: you don't pay me enough for this shit

Steve: I don't pay you...?

Robin: EXACTLY

Eddie: Robin I have to ask you something important, it's about me and Steve

Robin: Finally!! It's happening! I've been waiting!!

Eddie: You knew I wanted to ask you who has the best hair??

Robin: I'm going to murder you

Robin: Steve of course

Steve: *on Eddie's lap*

Eddie: *petting Steve's hair*

Robin: Explain this.

Robin: in a straight way.

Steve: we're watching a movie??

Steve: *flirting with a girl*

Eddie: I hate her

Robin: you literally never spoken to her, how do you know?

Eddie: I'm a great judge of character

Eddie: *asking a girl out*

Steve: I hate her

Robin: give me one good reason to hate her

Steve: Eddie is a terrible judge of character

Robin: I'm tired of this, I have to get to the core of the problem.

Robin: have you ever had the same relationship you have with Eddie with any other guy??

Steve: Yeah me and Tommy used to be pretty close. You know, playing basketball together, sleeping at each other's place, helping each other with girls...

Steve: ah, and practice kissing of course

Robin: you quick, I have no time to waste. Who was your Steve before you met Steve?

Eddie: which one? I've had many close friends since kindergarten. I'm pretty sure my first friend was Andy, we would hold hands all the time. He was such a nice friend

Robin: That explains... so much.

Robin: OKAY THAT'S IT!

Robin: have you ever thought there is something a lil gay going on here???

Eddie: What? of course we did!

Steve: Robs we know you're gay

Robin:

Robin: I'm moving out

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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Steve: I'm so happy, I could kiss you!

Eddie: Um...Neat.

*later*

Eddie, lying face down on his bed: I said "Neat," Gareth. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.

Gareth, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Eddie. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Jeff confessed his love for me?

Eddie: Didn't you thank him?

Gareth: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked him.

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.

It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.

Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.

Today was the same as every other day.

Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.

And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.

Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.

Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.

If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.

“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”

Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.

“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”

“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”

They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.

“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.

Steve stopped.

“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”

Eddie sighed.

“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”

Eddie nodded solemnly.

“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.

“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”

Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.

“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”

“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”

“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.

“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”

Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.

“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”

“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”

“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”

Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.

“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.

“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.

“A person?” asked Eddie.

Steve gulped, and nodded.

“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”

Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.

Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.

“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.

“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.

Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?

“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.

“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.

“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.

“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”

“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.

Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

“To make someone happy,” he said.

“Like…” whispered Steve.

Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.

“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.

Steve hummed.

“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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I've read so many Steddie fics that I can't imagine Steve with a girl anymore at this point.

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

Text

can’t get the thought out of my head that Steve had come to terms with his feelings before Eddie did, and it’s so obvious to everyone except but Eddie. touching and holding him at every chance he gets, spending all his free time with him, and then the daydreams start. Steve even starts getting high with Eddie, just to be with him more, and the weed just seems to elevate his day dreams.

One lazy night, the boys are up in Steve’s room, laid out on his bed, passing a blunt between the two of them as they stared up at Steve’s ceiling. finding comfort in the presence of each other, Steve had reached for Eddies hand that laid between him, and laced their fingers together. The boys would throw out comments between moments of silence, (Stevie, this wallpaper is a f-cking eye sore).

Steve had turned on his side now, watching Eddie inhale deeply, the way his cheeks hollowed, and rounded out again as he held the smoke. He watched as Eddie closed his eyes, letting the weed burn in his throat, and rolled his head out over Steve’s pillow, to blow the smoke up towards the ceiling. Steve hadn't even realized he was white-knuckling the sides of his jeans with his unoccupied hand.

Steve closes his eyes, moving to lay on his back again. He needs to get his breathing back under control, because right now, the only image he can see behind his eyelids is Eddie between his legs, jaw locked, like he cant stop giving him head, lips stretched out around Steve’s big-

Steve shakes his head, willing himself to open his eyes. He turns his head, just as Eddie is mindlessly holding out the blunt for him to take. Steve takes it with a shaky hand, glad Eddie doesn't notice, as he brings it to his lips, taking a long drag, letting it out with a sigh.

"What's on your mind, sweets?" Eddie had asked, eyes closed, free hand drumming his fingers over his torso.

Steve paused, taking another hit, counting in his head before he released. "Just thinking about how I've never chain-smoked before, I'm so new to all this."

Eddie let out a quiet laugh, "Chain-smoke? Steve, do you mean shotgunning?"

Steve looked at Eddie, pout evident on his lips. "What? What's shotgunning?"

Eddie was now reaching for the blunt in Steves hand, "Can I just show you?"

Steve had nodded slowly, turning his body to face Eddie. "Course, you can, is it like when you blow out those O-shaped rings?"

Eddie shook his head, letting go of Steve’s hand, sitting up on his knees, Steve’s eyes following him closely. Steve watched as Eddie put the blunt in his mouth, holding it in place, as he moved closer to Steve, pushing his shoulder back so Steve was laying on his back again.

Steves mouth fell open slightly, as Eddie slowly put a leg over his thighs. Steve looked up at Eddie with pleading eyes, as Eddie leaned over his torso, and used a hand to hold Steve’s jaw in place, as he used his thumb to drag his chin down, opening Steve’s mouth more, before moving said hand to lay flat against the bed, right beside Steve’s head.

Eddie used his other hand to pull the joint out of his mouth, brows furrowed slightly, as he held the smoke in his mouth, before he leaned in and released the smoke in Steve’s open mouth.

Steve, who had seemed to have slipped into a state of shock the second Eddie put his hand on his jaw, was brought back to reality as he felt the burn of the smoke hit the back of his throat, and the faintest touch of Eddies lips against his. Time moved in slow motion for Steve, as if Eddie had let his lips linger on his for a beat too long, before Eddie was sitting up slowly, as Steve turned to the side blowing the smoke out.

Steve had to close his eyes again, to make sure he wasn’t having some super vivid weed-induced daydream. But, when he turned towards where Eddie sat, opening his eyes again, being met with Eddies intense gaze, looking at Steve as if he was pondering something. Eddie sits up a little more, holding the blunt out to Steve. “Wanna try now?”

Steve had to dig his nails into his palm until he was sure he had drawn blood, before he replied. “Can I?” He asked as he grabbed the almost roach, from Eddies hand.

Eddie nodded simply, leaning back on his palms, as Steve sat up. “Lay em on me, big boy.”

Steve had let out a soft laugh, at the nickname, trying to ease the nerves. He brought the blunt to his mouth, inhaling deeply, moving it away from his face, as he leaned into Eddie.

Steve’s mind was racing, no way this was just straight-bro activites, no way, he could never have imagined Tommy H partaking in shotgunning with him, so Steve hesitated, didn't even let his lips slightly touch Eddies, as he blew the smoke into his mouth.

Steve couldn’t even grab Eddies face, and he so badly wished he could've, he wanted to grab Eddies face, and keep their lips pressed together, passing smoke back and forth. Steve wanted to discard of the blunt and grip Eddies hair so he could pull on it roughly, and hear the sweet sounds he would make for Steve, and Steve only.

But, Steve hesitated. Steve hesitated because Eddie was straight, and they were just two friends, just doing what friends do, apparently.

Steve pulled back as soon as the last of the smoke left his mouth, looking for any sign of regret on Eddies face, as blew the smoke out of his mouth with a sigh.

"You did it wrong, Harrington." Steve looked at Eddie, confused as Eddie sat up straigth again.

"Let me show you how it's actually done."

"Eddie, the blunts practically all filter now, you won't even be able to-"

"Steve, give it to me." Steve handed over what was left of the blunt, to Eddie, putting his hands up in defense.

"See, Eds, theres no way-" Steve cut himself off watching Eddie pinch the end, as he brought it to his lips, inhaling, as he used his other hand, to grab the side of Steves face, and pull Steve so close to himself, their chests were flush with eachothers, and Steve was worried eddie could hear his rapid heartbeat.

Before Steve could even give it another thought, Eddie was slamming his lips into Steves, if Steve hadn't been so shocked by the sudden action he wouldve realized there was little to no smoke in Eddies mouth to begin with.

Steves body finally caught up to his brain, and he deepened the kiss, bringing one hand up to the nape of Eddies neck, and the other gripping his waist. Eddie hummed against Steves mouth, and hooked his other arm around Steve, still holding his face in the other.

Steve was the first to pull away from the kiss. “I wish I would’ve started chain smoking sooner.” Steve said in between breaths, as Eddie moved lower to kiss along his neck.

Eddie sighed sitting up, rubbing at his temple. “Steve, it's called shotgunning. SHOTGUNNING!”

i have had this short thing in my drafts for a week now and have been so busy trying to perfect the bartender Steve rockstar Eddie fic, and juggle work and school. but!!! winter break is soon so i hope you enjoyed this little thing before i can get back to my longer posts!

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steddiebylerfixation · 1 year

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the sweetest words

(Wherein Eddie likes Steve's face and tells him all about his favorite parts)

Rated T / 1.2k / more fluff! / warnings for smoking (not cigarettes :P)

Also on AO3

“Hey, Steve.” Eddie whacks Steve’s shoulder with the back of his hand, lets it rest there a moment until it falls back to the space between them on the couch. His knuckles brush Steve’s thigh.

Steve’s head lolls toward him. “Mm?”

“Did you know your eyes have some green in them?” Eddie leans in, peering into Steve’s bloodshot eyes, searching for the green; his pulse does a little skip when Steve’s eyes catch his. They sparkle in the low light and Eddie feels suddenly warm.

Steve’s brows raise. “I was aware of that, yeah.”

“Cool.” Eddie blinks. He’s gone cross-eyed. He shakes himself and leans back. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Thanks.” Steve snorts, takes a hit of the joint they’ve been passing between them, hands it over to Eddie.

The cloudy cotton candy feeling that’s been circling for a while settles over Eddie; he slumps further into the couch, legs falling open. His knee hits Steve’s; Steve doesn’t move and neither does Eddie. “I like your eyes.”

“Okay.”

“Like, they’re really big—”

“Look who’s talking.”

“But it’s the way your eyelids do that thing.”

Steve’s face screws up. “What thing?”

“You know…” The way Steve’s brows raise says he doesn’t know, so Eddie reaches over and traces the crease of Steve’s eyelid with the tip of his finger. Steve squeezes his eyes shut; Eddie lets his hand fall to his lap. “I like it. Kinda like a sad puppy, you know? Like…” He trails off, trying to think of who, or what, Steve’s eyes remind him of. “Droopy!”

“My eyes are droopy?”

“No. Like Droopy, that cartoon hound dog.”

“That’s flattering.”

“They’re kinda…sad, sometimes.” Eddie thinks about that a lot, the sadness in Steve’s eyes. It’s not there often, and maybe sadness isn’t the right word. Hidden depths, or some shit. Eddie wants to dive into them. He doesn’t say that, but he does say, “They’re my favorite part of your face.”

Steve takes the joint back. “Why do you have a favorite part of my face?” He exhales.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Oh, my friend, but it is.”

“Whatever”—Steve rolls his eyes—“you’re high.”

“I am, Steve. I am high.” Eddie shakes his head, then he nods. He points a finger at Steve. “But not that high.” He swipes the joint from Steve to illustrate his point.

“What does that mean?”

“Your nose is cool, too, though.” Eddie reaches over again, ignoring Steve’s question, gently tracing the slope of Steve’s nose. It twitches under his touch and warmth bursts beneath Eddie’s skin. He lets his pointer finger rest on the bridge, and his thumb at the tip, then brings them together in a pinching gesture. “It’s very…sharp. And a little crooked.”

Steve finally bats his hand away. “I have droopy eyes and a crooked nose. Thanks.”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Eddie passes the joint back.

Steve takes a final hit, tamps it out. “Uh-huh.”

“There’s the little bump in it.” Eddie angles himself toward Steve more, inspecting Steve’s nose when he looks at Eddie. “Did you break it?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Basketball.” Steve tilts his head. “And, you know, I got punched in the face a few times. Probably didn’t help.”

“Huh.” Eddie follows the slight bend in the otherwise straight line of Steve’s nose with his eyes. There’s something about it… It does something to Eddie that he can’t explain. But he could say that about a lot of things about Steve. He props his arm on the back of the couch, leans his head on his hand. “I think it adds character.”

“You think a lot about my face.”

Through the fuzziness in his brain, Eddie’s dimly aware he might be giving too much away. But he’s been more obvious than this in the past, he’s sure he has, and Steve hasn’t caught on yet. At least, Eddie doesn’t think he has. If he has, he hasn’t said anything about it. Eddie doesn’t know if that bodes well or not.

“Why?” Steve asks.

“Why what?”

“Why do you think about my face so much?”

“Well,” Eddie says, waving a hand, “it’s right there.”

“Hm.” Steve crosses his arms, lips twitching. “Any other opinions about it?”

“Maybe.”

“Gonna share with the class?”

”I—” It almost feels like a trap, but Eddie’s not sure if he cares, so he says, “I like your freckles. Or moles. Whichever.” He pokes each one in turn. When he gets to one on Steve’s cheek, Steve moves quickly, snapping his teeth at Eddie’s finger. Reflexes dulled, Eddie doesn’t move away fast enough, and his finger is caught in Steve’s bite.

“I think I might be a bad influence,” Eddie says, a little breathless.

Steve grins. He bites down harder when Eddie tries to pull his finger away, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep it there. So, Eddie wiggles his finger, tickling Steve’s tongue, and Steve’s jaw unclenches.

Eddie doesn’t draw his finger too far away, though. He lets it rest on Steve’s bottom lip, pressing down, and Steve only watches him. Eyes hazy and curious and as pretty as ever.

“Your lips,” Eddie starts, then catches himself, curling his fingers into a fist and turning away.

“What about them?”

Eddie turns back; Steve is looking at him, eyes dark, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Eddie’s heart beats hard and he feels like he’s on the edge of something. Something good, he thinks. Hopes. But, might as well take a chance right? He can blame it on the weed if it goes to hell.

“They look like they’d be good for kissing.” He swallows thickly, tries to paste a confident grin on his face.

“Do they?”

“Yeah, I mean… Lots of girls think that right?”

Steve looks at him a long moment before he says, “Wanna test your theory?”

“That girls think you’re lips are, um, kissable?”

“No”—Steve shifts forward—“just to see if they are.”

“Right.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I mean, I guess you know, we should.” His breath catches as Steve crowds him into the corner of the couch. “Scientific theory or some shit, I don’t know, I flunked like, nearly… Everything at least once…”

Wait. What is he doing? Why is he pulling away? This is what he’s wanted, and Steve is offering it to him. Must want it, too, otherwise why would he suggest it? Fuck it. No more thinking. Eddie leans forward, meeting Steve halfway.

It’s not everything he thought it would be, because their lips don’t quite meet, but he’s still kissing Steve, so it’s fucking awesome. And then he shifts a little, and Steve shifts a little, and, yeah, that’s it.

“Oh,” he says against Steve’s lips, “they’re definitely good for kissing.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I have a new favorite part of your face.”

“I’ll let my eyes know,” Steve says and kisses Eddie again. Slow and soft and exactly like Eddie’s dreamed of.

In between the press of their lips, Eddie says, “Actually, I just like your whole face.”

Steve sighs through his nose, but then he breaks away with a smile and says, “You know what,” hands cradling Eddie’s jaw on both sides, “I like your whole face too.”

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