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miniscule-meow · 1 year

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Charlie and Felix: Bad Decisions

The long awaited follow-up to Bad Times

Writing Masterpost is Here

Extra long chapter (about 4.5k) I thought about splitting it into two but decided to go ahead and post the whole thing because I felt bad about how long it took me to write this

Warnings: Blood Mention, Alcohol, Some Language

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For the first time since the beginning of the semester, they don’t sit next to each other in class. The room isn’t a huge lecture hall, but there are still plenty of open seats. Charlie sits off to the side, a little closer to the front than her normal spot next to Felix. She doesn’t turn around to check if he’s there, as far as she knows, he might have skipped the class today. The minutes drag along, the lecture seems extra boring without her friend sitting next to her. She knows that they probably just need to talk it out, and everything could be fine again. But honestly, she doesn’t really feel like doing that right now. He took all of her trust and threw it right back in her face. She’s allowed to be upset about that. Not that he even cares. If he didn’t want to be friends with her anymore, he could have just said that. But whatever, no time to think about dumb boys, she tries to focus on the boring lecture instead.

It goes on like this all week, they just mutually pretend that the other one doesn’t exist. Today, once class is over Charlie takes her sweet time packing up her stuff at the end of class. Usually, she would go get lunch with Felix after this class, but that’s obviously not going to happen right now.

“Hey Charlotte!” She turns and finds a girl standing next to her. They have… never really spoken, it takes her a moment to place a name with the face before her. She thinks it’s Madison. She was in her group at the first day orientation for transfer students, but aside from that they haven’t really spoken much. “Not to be, like, nosey or anything, but did you and Felix break up?”

“Um. We weren’t dating.” Charlie says, uncomfortably shifting her backpack onto her shoulders.

“What? Totally thought you were. Huh. But, so like, you’re fighting then, right? You haven’t sat next to each other all week”

“Why do you care?” Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“You totally are. ‘OMG’ Did he go total werewolf on you?” Charlie is briefly taken aback by her saying ‘oh em gee’ out loud in real life, it takes everything in her to not make a face at that. “It was a full moon recently you know and I-”

“No. no, no,” Charlie cuts her off, definitely making faces now, “I’m not going to listen to your stupid conspiracy theories. He’s not a werewolf, okay? He’s just a dumb boy. That’s it. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I mean, you two have been inseparable like… the whole year and now...” She shrugs. “Nikki totally thought you were being mind controlled to hang out with him.”

“Yeah. Okay, I’m walking away now.” Charlie turns to leave.

“I told her that was stupid!” Madison calls after her.

“Okay, bye.” Charlie waves as she walks off, thankful to escape that conversation before she was asked if Felix has scales or something. Great. Apparently, some people still have time to be curious about her stupid personal life drama. She doesn’t get why everyone is so curious about Felix. He tries to keep to himself, but everyone seems to want to insert themselves in his business. There is that picture of him floating around, but it’s super blurry and you can’t really tell that it's him, or that he’s gigantic. But ever since then everyone just seems to have their own version of who -or what- Felix really is. She guesses it makes sense that people would try to get information out of her, because Madison was right, her and Felix had been inseparable until recently.

“Charlotte, wait wait wait!” Madison runs after her. “I’m really sorry about your breakup and stuff. If you want, next weekend there’s going to be a huge party at Troy’s place. You should totally come. Meet some new people and stuff.” She hands Charlie a scrap of paper with an address on it. Then Madison stands there just long enough to make Charlie feel awkward, “Okay bye.” And with that, she flits off. Charlie looks at the note in her hands.

She’s never been invited to a party before. But thinking logically, there’s no way that would be any fun. Just a bunch of people shouting at her over music, asking her about Felix the whole time, drinking cheap beer, not studying for the finals that are right around the corner. She balls up the note and shoves it into her pocket.

Nothing changes the next week. Felix still hasn’t reached out to her, and she has stubbornly refused to reach out to him first. People mostly leave her alone, everything is relatively normal, if this is what normal has become. No friends, no fun, super normal. By the time the next weekend approaches, she finds herself seriously considering the party thing. She finds the crumpled note and smooths it out on her desk.

The night of the party rolls around, and she actually finds herself driving to the address, and parking a block down from the house. There are a LOT of cars on this street. Once she steps out of her truck she can already hear the dull thump of music and sound emanating from the house. She takes a deep breath before heading inside, determined to make some friends. She’s wearing her hair down, and she took care to pick an outfit that was both cute and comfortable. It’s a pair of overall shorts with a light long sleeve shirt underneath. That, paired with her black combat boots and some tall socks pushed down around the top of the boots. She wore her cutest bralette underneath for herself to help boost her confidence. She felt so cute she even took a selfie before she left. Here’s to new beginnings. It’s a little too cold outside for her outfit, so she grabbed a jacket before she left, but once she entered the house, she quickly ditched her jacket and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows.

It's loud and crowded. The people are packed into every room. Music is playing everywhere, and people are holding drinks, shouting over the music. She looks around. Some people glance her way, but she’s mostly ignored. She finds her way to the drinks.

“What is this?” She asks someone near a big container of a red liquid.

“Jungle Juice.” They shout back.

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know. Everything?” They laugh and wander off. She’s sure there was something warning her about stuff like this in orientation. She pulls a mug out of an open cabinet and pours herself a glassful. It’s weird that they don’t have plastic cups? She always saw the stereotype of the red solo cups, but I guess they really like to play by their own rules here. Who is going to do all the dishes? What if something breaks? She shakes her head, this is why she doesn't get invited to parties. She just tries the drink already. Bleh. It’s strong to say the least, but... it’s relatively drinkable.

Several cups of jungle juice later she has flitted through several groups. Introductions, small talk, wander, repeat. There hasn’t been anyone she’s immediately clicked with like she had hoped. She joined a group playing a drinking game for a bit, which was fun, and got more fun the more drunk she became. Eventually, she finds herself sitting on the couch in the living room, the room twisting around her. Everything is just sounds and shapes. It's awesome, it's horrifying. Part of her thinks she’s had too much, and part of her is trying to reason why she should have just one more.

She pulls out her phone, it’s late. No notifications. No that's not true, she got a spam email for hot singles in the area, great. No real notifications at least, that is to say, nothing from Felix. She’s not surprised but she’s bummed. She can’t help but wonder what he's is doing right now. He would hate this party, she’s not sure if she hates this party or not. She should call him. She should absolutely not call him. Her phone is already ringing.

“Hello?” His voice answers. Oh my gosh he actually answered. She didn’t think he would answer. Why did she call him right now?

“...Hey.” She is immediately conscious of how she sounds so drunk. He must think she is so drunk. She is so drunk.

As she’s thinking that things couldn’t get any worse, fates twisted smile shines on her. Todd, resident bully, guy she’s pretty sure was in the fight with Felix the first day he actually talked to her Todd takes her phone, holding it away from her.

“Don’t drunk call boys that aren’t here sweetheart, pay attention to the ones that showed up.” He looks at the phone, laughing “Felix.” He reads quietly, looking at her once more, recognition sparking in his eyes. She stands, protesting and goes to grab for the phone. This would be easier if the room didn’t warble as she stood. To make matters more complicated Todd’s buddy, Drew comes from out of nowhere and slings an arm around her, holding her back. “Oh. Well, this is interesting.” He exchanges a glance with Drew. “You wouldn’t mind If I invited your boyfriend to the party, would you?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” is all she can think to say. He just laughs and holds the phone up to his ear. “He probably already hung up he-”

“Hey Lizard boy." What a stupid nickname, he isn't even a lizard or a werewolf or anything like that. "You still there? Yeah. No, no this is your buddy, Todd. Remember me?” Her stomach drops, he didn't hang up. Maybe he did but Todd is just bluffing. There’s a pause. She tries to interject, but Todd just holds out a finger her direction, and turns away. “What? Aw that’s cute she’s got a nickname. No, Charlie can’t come to the phone right now.” He speaks mockingly and shares a sly look with Drew. Him saying her nickname makes her feel wrong. “She’s a little preoccupied with my pal Drew. Hey, you two, keep it PG over there.” He winks at her; her cheeks burn and Drew just laughs.

“Hang up! That’s not funny!” She tries to get away from Drew to snag her phone back, but she has no luck.

“Anyway, we’re at Troy’s place. I believe you and I have some unfinished business, if you want to come pick up your girl. Two birds, one stone, you know?”

“I’m not anybody’s ‘girl’ can you grow up?” She thinks that this would have been a cooler thing to say if she hadn’t slurred through half of her words.

“Yeah, yeah, that was her. I don’t know how she’s getting home, man. If you don’t pick her up, she could always stay with me. Plenty of room for two in my bed.” Him and Drew share another crude laugh at her embarrassment.

“No. No. Felix don’t come here. I’ll just uber or sober up soon I-” She’s certain that most of this is coherent. “He wouldn’t come pick me up guys, we’re not… He doesn’t even-” She’s being solidly ignored.

“What’s that? 20 minutes. Yeah. See you soon.” He tosses her phone back to her. She fumbles with it and ends up having to pick it up off the floor. Thankfully the screen is still intact, unlike her social life, and her sense of pride.

Todd and Drew finally get out of her space, but they stay in the living room, it has the best view of the door. The groups around the immediate area sneak glances they think she can’t see, and they’re all huddling talking and giggling. She sits back down on the couch and waits.

The door opens several times as people come and go, she holds her breath each time. Eventually, Felix steps in. She looks at him, wide eyed. He actually came. Why did he actually come here? He scans the party before his eyes lock on her. He looks pissed, and it makes her heart freeze. He stalks across the room with such intensity, shouldering through everyone in his way with ease. He stops in front of her, saying nothing but holding a hand out to her. He's inviting her to take his hand, but his irritated expression makes her faulter, and freeze in place.

“Hey lizard boy, looks like you made it after all.” Todd pipes up. The room is absolutely buzzing with electric energy.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Felix says down to her, breaking her from her frozen state. She realizes she doesn't want to piss him off any more than he already is. So she takes his hand. He helps her up, completely ignoring Todd.

“What? Leaving so soon? Stay awhile. Have some fun. I believe you and I need to finish up an old conversation we were having anyway.” Someone slings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her away from Felix. It’s probably Drew, Todd’s sidekick.

What happens next all moves so fast. One moment Felix and Todd are having a tense conversation, the kind you just know will end in a fight. The next moment, she’s tossed backwards. She stumbles back, catching herself on an end table and toppling the whole thing over. She manages to crash down with the table, a decorative lamp and several cups with varying amounts of liquids all smashing down on top of her. Shit. Her cute outfit is soaked in alcohol and whatever else it was mixed with. That’ll probably stain. She pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. This would all be so much easier if the room wasn’t spinning. She looks down at her stained outfit and briefly registers the cuts on her arms. Why did they think that using actual glass would be better than red solo cups?? Now they have to do a bunch of dishes AND they have to clean up a bunch of glass. Clearly this was not well thought out on their end.

By now, the music has stopped, and a circle has formed around the boys. There is a lot of shouting, everyone has their phone out. She pushes her way through the crowd to find Felix on top of Todd, just absolutely wailing on him. He’s landing blow after blow, before Drew comes up from behind him, his nose already bleeding, and he rips him back. The two of them struggle on the ground while Todd writhes in agony, trying to get back up.

“Felix! Stop! Stop!” She shouts, rushing forward. The two boys make their way to their feet, and Felix, having sustained several hits himself, shoves Drew back before she can get there. The crowd scrambles to part to avoid him. He slams against the wall, leaving a nice big dent in the drywall. Felix looks around the circle, and everything is still for a moment. He nods once before his gaze lands on her once more. He's not even gigantic, but just by looking at her it makes her feel no bigger that a gnat. He’s bleeding from his knuckles and a lot from his face, but he’s the only one standing so she supposes that’s a win? He steps forward, not offering a hand to her this time. Instead he pulls her tightly into him and promptly leads her out of the house. Everyone is staring. She quickly grabs her things as they leave.

She glances up at him once they get outside. It’s much quieter out here. Wait. He’s not normally taller than her, They’re roughly the same height, but now he’s at least a head taller than her.

“You’re taller.” He scowls at that, not responding otherwise. “Like… like holding a rubber band stretched open all day?” She recalls one conversation they had, where he compared it to that. He said if he were to try to maintain a height taller than his ‘normal’ height, it would be like trying to keep a rubber band stretched at the same distance all day long. She could imagine him trying to appear more intimidating in there by making himself larger. It also probably would make him stronger she guesses? Charlie doesn’t know how that works. Felix shakes his head slightly.

“Like trying to shove myself in a little box.” He whispers to her. Oh. He’s fighting it off. He’s trying to stay a normal height, but he can’t hold it back completely. That also makes sense. It seems to be triggered by intense emotions sometimes? Charlie also doesn’t know how that works. She knows very little about how his abilities work, she just knows that they exist.

“Oh,” is all she can think to say. “Um. Felix, I wanted to say. Um-”

“Keys.” Felix cuts off her thanks or apology or both, she honestly hadn’t decided yet. She realizes they’ve made it to her truck.

“But, wait. How did you get here if… How will you get your car-”

“Just give me your keys, Charlie.” He holds out his hand to her.

“Right. Sorry. Okay.” She digs through her bag, and after drunkenly fumbling through her belongings, she fishes out her keys and hands them over. He helps her into the passenger side of the truck. “Don’t um, don’t grow and break my truck, please.” It’s not really funny, but she laughs anyway. He just gives her some irritated side eye. They start down the road in silence. It's uncomfortably quiet, so she tries to fill the silence with some chatter. “So, uh I just wanted to tell you I-” He cuts her off again, this time reaching forward and turning up the radio. Message received, shut up Charlie. She sighs, and quietly leans against the window. She doesn’t try talking to him again, instead she focuses on a more important task, not throwing up.

They get back to his house, a decent looking barndominium- that is to say, basically a remodeled barn. It's in a secluded area, and it's got high ceilings, what more could a size shifter need. Felix steps out of the truck, immediately significantly taller than he should be. He fumbles with opening the door for her, his hands are an awkward size for the handle. He finally gets it open, and catches her as she half stumbles, half straight up falls, out of the truck.

“I’m gonna throw up.” She mumbles.

“For real?” He asks.

“For serious.” She nods. He sighs and forces himself to be a few inches shorter. He’s shaking with the exertion of keeping himself human sized, but he helps her inside, and leads her to the bathroom. “Oh jeez. I don’t want to puke in front of you. This is so embarrassing.” She’s sprawled on the floor, hovering over the toilet. He silently ties her hair back before just leaving the room as she revisits all the drinks and bad decisions that she made that night.

He leaves her be, going outside to finally stretch out. He grows to full height, sighing in relief. It gets easier to get this big every time he does it. It feels like he's unlocked something, and there's no going back now. He figures he has a few minutes alone while she’s in there throwing up. He can just sit like this for a moment and get it out of his system. He focuses on steadying his breathing. He should really clean up after Charlie is done in the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror when he was in there and he is a bloody mess. All too soon, Charlie’s small voice reaches his ears.

“Felix.”

“Go back inside.” He huffs, not wanting her to see him gigantic and bloody and stressed.

“Yeah. I get it, you hate me, and you don’t want to talk to me, but-”

“Charlie. Just go back inside.” Not feeling up to unpacking that right now, he brings his hand down, gently ushering her back inside and blocking the door with his fingers.

“Can you just listen to me?!” She shouts, kicking at his fingertips, “I just need like, a first aid kit. Or maybe, I dunno, some bandages?” This gets his attention. He pulls his hand back, grimacing as she stumbles forwards.

“You’re hurt?”

“No, I just wanted to play Doctor!” She throws her arms up exasperated. He just looks down at her, brow furrowed. He looks annoyed or maybe concerned. He’s probably both, she’s both too drunk to discern the difference and too drunk care. “Not that you really care either way," she huffs. "It isn’t a huge deal I just, I fell back at the party, you were there but you might have been a little… distracted, and … yeah.” She gestures to her arms, having carefully rolled up the sleeves once more.

“Let me-” He whispers, already seeing the red staining her arms. He pauses for a moment like he’s trying to focus, but then he huffs, looking frustrated. She supposes he can’t shift back to normal just yet, another thing she doesn’t quite understand how it works. He moves over from his seated position to laying on his stomach. It’s kind of dizzying watching him move when he's that big. Just simple movements send vibrations through the earth around her. She swallows thickly, and can’t stop from taking a step back away from him as he settles before her. “Just let me see," he says gently. He props himself up on one arm, and reaches his other hand towards her slowly. She hesitates, but eventually she reaches out one of her arms and his gigantic fingertip comes to meet her.

Delicately, he pinches her wrist between his finger and thumb and pulls her arm out so he can get a better look. He leans forward, taking the scene in with wide eyes. He’s close enough for his breathing to ruffle her hair. Her heart pounds in her chest as he silently scans over her. His eyes rake over the cuts on her forearm, flicking over to see the same situation decorating her other arm. He only holds her there for a moment, but he is completely focused on her. She’s never felt more seen than right now. His eyes find their way to her face, she looks from his massive fingers holding her hand to finally bringing herself to meet his all-encompassing gaze. She thinks this is the first time he’s actually looked at her since he picked her up from the party. Or since their fight. It almost feels like it’s the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Maybe it’s just because she’s drunk, hurt and relatively tiny. Like a bird with a broken wing, a mouse stuck in a glue trap. But, the way he looks at her, she doesn’t feel like a wounded animal he’s taking pity on. She feels like his whole world, at least for that one fleeting moment. He seems so captivated with her. She’s so insignificantly small, she could fit into the palm of his hand. And yet, he looks her over with such care and intense attention to detail it makes her feel like he can see each of her individual eyelashes.

“I'm sorry. you wouldn't have gotten hurt if I would have just-" he clenches his jaw, his expression turning dark and unreadable. Her pulse picks up, this is what he looked like before he decided to make it his mission to make her fear for her life. She pulls her arm back, it's still clamped solidly between his thumb and forefinger. That seems to get his attention. "Okay. Yeah.” He lets her go, withdrawing his hand. Part of her misses his warmth immediately, but another part of her is just relieved. He pushes his palms into the ground and returns to sitting, towering above her. “Just give me ten minutes and I’ll come in and help. Okay?”

“Alright,” she answers breathlessly before turning and going back inside. She sits on the floor in the bathroom, just trying not to bleed on anything important. She feels both better and worse since throwing up, mostly better though she thinks. The room still spins lazily around her as she waits. She is very aware of how cold and wet her clothes are. With sore arms she peels her shirt off, leaving her still wet overalls on, now with just a lace bralette underneath. At least her shirt isn’t sticking to her anymore. She’s still drunk and cold though. One step at a time she supposes.

Eventually, Felix comes back in, his normal height once more. He lays eyes on her for a beat before quickly averting his eyes with a quiet, "Oh Jeez." He digs through the bathroom drawers, setting out first aid supplies on the counter. “You, um. Why did you feel the need to take your shirt off?” He doesn’t look at her, but she can see in the mirror, he's blushing.

“Everything is wet and sticky, and cold. I spilled a lot of drinks on myself when I fell.” She says very matter-of-factly.

“Alright. Um. Okay.”

“I think I broke their lamp too. What kind of person has a house party but doesn’t invest in red solo cups. All the cups were glass. I broke so much glass. Why didn’t they think about that as a possibility. And besides, who is going to be stuck doing all those dishes? Cups aren't even expensive.” She shakes her head, looking up at Felix, his hands are braced on the counter, he’s focusing on the medical supplies, taking stock of what he has and definitely avoiding looking at her. “You can look at me, dude. I would probably wear this in public in like… the summertime. Maybe I’d put like a flannel on top of it. Different shoes. You don’t need to be so… scandalized.” She shrugs.

“Okay.” He nervously taps the counter a few times, she’s pretty sure he only spoke up so she would stop rambling. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I just, you are very drunk and now you're removing... layers. I just don't want to make you... uncomfortable" he clears his throat. "Okay. Okay. Come here, let’s make sure you don’t still have glass in your arms.”

He bandages her up, taking care to rinse and disinfect the wounds. Her arms took the brunt of the damage, but she has some scrapes on her knees as well. She rambles as he works, and when he doesn’t respond she rambles some more, her words slurring into one another. As he bandages her first arm, she mostly just does a lot of apologizing. ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘This is embarrassing, I’m sorry.’ Just looping. Felix responds once or twice with something resembling ‘it’s fine’ or ‘you’re okay.’ But once it’s clear that she’s still going, he just lets her talk. It’s when he switches to work on the second arm that she takes a big breath and starts really getting into it.

“I guess I kind of ruined your night, huh? You probably had better things to do with your Friday. I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to just leave you alone. I'm... I'm still mad at you by the way. So, I promise, I will leave as soon as I'm sober, and we can go back to pretending that we’ve never met. I know that you don’t want to be my friend anymore and stuff. So, that’s why I went to the party in the first place. I thought that I could meet someone cool and make new friends and stuff. That obviously didn’t happen. Lesson learned though, and I probably won’t be making that mistake again. I know it sounds super lame, but you were my only friend. I don’t mean to say that to be like ‘oh feel bad for me and be my friend again.’ I don’t mean it like that, it’s just… how it is. I just, I don’t know. I guess I just wish I knew what I did to make you not like me anymore. I just- Gah, I’m such a loser.” She is just noticing the tears streaming down her face. She uses her free hand to attempt to wipe them away. “This is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. Forget I said any of that. I'm mad at you." He lets go of her other arm. She finds her way to the floor, leaning against the cabinets and she buries her face in her hands.

“Charlie. I don’t hate you.” He sits on the floor beside her. “I never hated you. I have just been a really, really bad friend to you. I'm sorry."

“Yeah.” She sniffles. Dropping her hands into her lap. “Why did you want to do that?”

“It’s dumb.” He sighs, “I just. I'm not used to getting that big. My classmates always said I had a useless power and... Anyway I have to go back to the academy for the summer and I just. It's kind of really complicated, but I took some shit out on you and... You don't deserve that. I'm sorry. I understand if you want to pretend like you never met me."

Charlie looks at him for a long while before she leans into him, wrapping her freshly bandaged arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

“I missed you.” She mumbles into him.

He sets her up to sleep on the couch, but first he gives her some clean, dry clothes to wear. He sets a glass of water and some aspirin on the coffee table in front of her for the inevitable hangover she will have in the morning.

“I missed you too.” He says resting his cheek against her head.

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t story #size shifter #g/t community #my writing #here i am posting super late at night again #one day i'll figure all this out #until then at least i can offer this chapter #life is busy motivation left me but i finally updated this #i have other plans hopefully i will have time to write them soon #i didn't proof read this as much as i normally do so sorry if it's bad i guess #i'll probably fix it sometime tomorrow so enjoy the mistakes while they last lol #characters are 21+#Charlie and Felix

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #TW: Eddie calls himself a faggot and he means it in a bad way #did I make a playlist on spotify w/ Top 40 songs for June 21-27 1987 so id know how many tapes eddie had to use to record it?#yes. its 2 tapes fyi‚ using side A and B of one. a total of 2h54m. in my defense it was a writers block activity.#couldnt figure out what to have jeff say to comfort eddie that was in character and era-appropriate so... playlist it was!#if i were titling these parts this would be Eddie's No Good‚ Very Bad‚ Terrible‚ Horrible Day #I mean... he's had worse days (Spring Break '86) but this is up there for him #also back to back updates!? who am i??? but don't expect another one too soon #i started this one as part 6 originally but decided i wanted a more lighthearted piece first #so i wrote like 2/3 of this before writing what i posted for part 6 so finishing this was quick

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