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another birthday bit, unrelated to earlier, but something I wrote on my birthday. it’s a bit sad, I’m sorry.
There is an empty space on the couch.
There is an empty space on the couch between Dustin and Mike. The light from the window touches it gently. Making the Byers-Hoppers worn leather couch glow a soft brown. The house is filled with noise and chatter; a happiness that was once lost resides here.
Steve Harrington turns 24, and there is empty space on the couch.
Steve knows Max wouldn’t have sat there. That spot is not reserved for her. She would have sat on the floor between El’s legs while El brushed her hair softly with her fingers, or she would have draped herself over the edge of Lucas’ chair, teasing him with her head hooked on his shoulder.
Steve aches. He sees her in the missing pieces sometimes. A space in the car, a hand grasping at nothing, a laugh when there has only been silence. As if they are all moving in the same ways they did years before, not filling in the holes, just moving forward with gaping parts of themselves.
The house is full of noise, and love, and laughter. Robin leans her head on the tops of Steve’s knees, her hand braiding away at the new friendship bracelet she’s making him. He gets one every birthday. Will and El are drawing on a giant birthday card that Steve knows he’ll hang in his dingy apartment. Nancy and Erica are chattering away in the corner about something that will make Steve’s head spin, he’s sure. Everyone is here; everyone is safe. Steve thinks sometimes he will lose this; they will all push him away. But they come back time and time again. Except…
It’s Steve’s 24th birthday, and there is an empty space on the couch.
Steve Harrington is 24 years old, and Eddie Munson never makes it past twenty. And there is a space, that really isn’t his, but is there for him anyway.
Steve grieves.
He knows it’s unfair. Steve didn’t really know him. They were only ever sideways of each other. Paths crossed one another but never at the same time. A distance in a small place.
Steve feels bad at times, knows they could have done great things. Lead their friends on their strange journeys. Made each other better. He believes that they were more similar than they once thought. Different sure, but would have understood each other somehow.
Steve thinks they were kinda like stars in the same galaxy. Both shine brightly, both guide the way, but too far apart to say goodbye when the other burns too quickly.
When Steve had known him, it was temporary. Eddie had been a temporary person in the life of Steve Harrington. It isn’t a bad thing per se, but an unfortunate truth. Their time together was, although not very long, is held closely to Steve. It was important.
Steve thinks it’s unfair that he gets all the time; he gets all this time to waste, and be happy about it. Angry. Sad. Steve gets to feel, and Eddie gets an empty space.
Steve hears someone’s laugh from across the room. He wants to hold it in his hands and bottle it up, put it on a shelf for safekeeping. It’s not as rare as it used to be, time heals some things, but he finds it makes him want it more. Keep it close. The kids, who are not kids, shout and scream and yell, “Steve, you be the tiebreaker!”. There is never silence, only sounds, so they never really see the gaps that remain.
But Steve thinks about the smile Eddie had once sent his way. The slight tick of the lip into laugh lines. Steve craves for that moment again. Not because it meant anything, not because it held some secret. But because it was good, and Steve at the time didn’t really know much of that.
Steve knows, if the space on the couch was filled, Steve would be in love.
Their time together doesn’t prove this, he knows and is not delusional, but Steve can feel it in his gut.
At times, you meet a person and realize they are going to stick around for a while. And other moments, you meet someone and don’t notice that you were meant to know them until your chance has passed.
There are instances you meet someone, and you feel as if you should say “Hello again.” Even though you are meeting for the first time.
Steve can’t help but notice more time has passed since he left, then the the amount of time he knew him.
Steve knows it’s selfish. It’s selfish to grieve something that was never his, to grieve the idea of a person. But he can’t help the mourning that comes when he wakes. He can’t help but think there is a laugh he is supposed to know, like his favorite song. He can’t help but think, Eddie Munson should have made it to 24.
Steve can tell the rest miss him, even the ones who didn’t know him. There was a role Eddie was supposed to fill, a balance thrown off by his absence. Steve sometimes catches them all trying to put the pieces back together of a ghost. They’ll take his old clothing from Wayne, read a book left on his nightstand, and tap their fingers to the beat of a song Eddie once knew. It feels like they are all trying to build him from scratch.
The party sings Steve happy birthday; they try to squeeze all the candles on it. Hopper yells at them, tells the kids it’s a fire hazard, but makes no move to stop them. The boys are yelling to wish for things they want. The girls, El, tells him to wish for love. Jonathan takes a photo of him blowing out his candles. Robin squeezes his hand.
I wish I could have known.
They cut the cake; they spread out again. This time Lucas sits on the edge of his chair, like he’s leaving space for only one person to come back and sit. No one makes a move to share with him. There is an empty space on the couch. The sun no longer touches it; only the warm lamp light reaches its corners.
Steve doesn’t think he knew Eddie Munson very well, but he likes to believe that Eddie would have liked this. He would have liked the noise. He would have liked a mismatched family. He would have liked celebrating a meaningless birthday of a friend he didn’t have. Steve likes to think they wouldn’t have been friends for long. He knows, somehow, Eddie would have loved him too.
There is an empty space on the couch. Steve doesn’t plan on filling it anytime soon.
***
Sorry for any of the tense changes or mistakes, this was more of a stream of thought piece. It’s bittersweet.
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[ FIVE CUDDLES ] for aksel and kyle!!!!
[ FIVE CUDDLES ] send for five times our muses nearly cuddle and the one time they finally do.
the first time the meet up on purpose, out at a bar, the excitement is almost too much for him. even once they’ve gone back to kyle’s apartment and had their fun, he’s eager. kyle has to remind himself not to cling to aksel, despite being drunk and touchy and fucked and needy. he has to remember this is just fun. and he could do fun. he could do casual. he didn’t want to scare him away.
another time they haven’t even made it home, locked themselves in the bar bathroom and kyle drops to his knees with ease. they have to be quick, get on with it and get out. he helps him up from the floor with a blissful smile and kyle doesn’t wrap his arms around aksel like he wants to, just follows his lead from the bathroom.
the first time they hang out sober kyle keeps a couch cushion between them, resists the urge to curl into his side while aksel sits on his couch, arm draped over the back. he has to remember personal space and not jump the gun.
kyle has a small meltdown when they’re making out and aksel runs his hand over the scar on his hip, presses a kiss to his skin. he pushes him away and curls in on himself. wants to beg to be held but instead he tells him to leave, knows he’s deserving of that empty, lonely feeling when the front door shuts behind him.
the next time they hang out it’s a bit more awkward, aksel doesn’t touch unless kyle asks and for a moment he considers just moving into his lap and taking the affection he wants. he settles instead for getting them both beers to ease the tension.
& the time they do
“please don’t go.” kyle says once they’ve both caught their breath and aksel has that look on his face. like he’s about to say something. like he’s going to thank kyle for calling him over, apologize for being distant, make some excuse about plans tomorrow and leave. “just... stay. for tonight?” he asks, voice small and lacking the confidence and teasing he normally holds. he curls against his side, lets himself enjoy the feeling of resting his head on aksel’s chest, even if only for a moment
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