#monstrius writing

[monstrousfemale]

After the world finally stops threatening to end, sometime in late 1989, Steve quietly gets a tattoo across his ribs. It’s something personal and private, something he just needs etched into his skin because to not have it there would feel like a lie. He feels disconnected from himself, he feels alone, he feels like bullshit. Going into Indianapolis for the weekend and shoving the handwritten line at a tattoo artist is the most human Steve has felt in forever. The sharp pain of the needle followed by the dull ache of the healing process finally grounds him.

No one but Robin hears about this, though. And turns out outside of saving the world, now that he doesn’t swim as much, Steve doesn’t have that many excuses to take his shirt off anymore. So, the tattoo is a secret by omission, and Steve is fine with that. It’s his thing, and it doesn’t have to be exposed for it to mean as much as it does.

And it does mean a lot. It’s a mark of a new beginning, something physical to prove to Steve he is still around and kicking. 

And after that, life feels livable again. He has his friends, his only real family. He is managing Family Video now, after the owner had moved out of town due to world-almost-ending experiences. He is finally settling into being someone he actually wants to be.

Most importantly, Steve keeps in touch with Eddie as much as he can. They’re hanging out on and off all the time, falling into an easy routine without either of them meaning to. And by 1990, before either of them knows what hits them, they’re fumbling in the backroom at Family Video, making out against a shelf, VHS tapes raining down on them like falling in love: fast, hard, unexpected.

It’s all a blur of finally expressing things they had been keeping hidden for too long. Sharing secrets at midnight, back and forth with the pass of a joint or two or five. And after they start, they couldn't stop even if they had wanted to. They need this good thing. And they both know too well how fast the shit hits the fan around them. So, they don’t care for taking things slow, not after years of dancing around each other. All this to say, it doesn’t take long at all for Eddie to find himself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

He’s sitting against the headboard, watching as Steve gets rid of his clothes. He had been expecting an almost childish awkwardness from Steve, because Eddie knows he hadn't done this before, not with a man. Not that Eddie has that much experience to speak of himself, but he had come to terms with it way earlier. It doesn’t matter what he had expected though, because in truth Steve is smooth, sexy even. He removes his clothes with purpose and devastating eye contact. He gets rid of his pants, and then his shirt is coming off – finally, finally messing up that amazing head of hair of his.

Eddie almost gets too distracted by Steve's intensity to notice the tattoo. When he comes closer, though, Eddie places his hand over his ribs. Instinctively, he just has to look and see what his skin looks like against Steve's skin. And there it is, right by his fingers. Pitch black ink, already healed over, already fully Steve. The words are stark against his pale skin. I want to be adored. Eddie has the air knocked out of him.

Steve looks down, confused for a moment. "Wha-?" he starts to ask, but then his brain catches on. Steve feels self-conscious, kisses Eddie to distract him from what he'd found. He hadn't known this is how he would feel, had never felt ashamed or embarrassed of much about his appearance before. And this isn’t quite shame. But this is Steve, bared, naked, in ways that go above a state of undress.

Eddie breaks the kiss, hand splayed over Steve's chest. "Fuck, Steve. When did you get that?"

"A while back. It's nothing." It is everything. It means so much to Steve, he'd never have the words.

Eddie's eyes soften, skimming the words again and again. The smile that graces his lips is tiny, a kind little thing Steve usually only sees on his face whenever he is around the nuggets, Max or Dustin usually.

"I can make that happen," Eddie says, honesty dripping from his words. It isn’t his usual, larger than life rambling. This is Eddie seeing him, really seeing him.

"What?" Steve asks, to diffuse the tension. A self-sabotaging little jab at their clear connection, because he actually thinks he knows exactly what Eddie means.

"I can adore you, big boy," Eddie says, and his playful spark was back. He winks, pulling Steve close by the shoulders. He gets both of them on Steve's bed. Steve's chest aches.

"Shut up," he says, because he doesn’t know how to accept something like this. Doesn’t know how to process that anyone would care, that anyone would pay attention.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him, flips them on the bed so he can straddle Steve's hips. Eddie traces the ink on his skin like it is precious. He kisses Steve hard, kisses his love into his lips, pushes it into his mouth like he does his tongue.

"I do adore you," Eddie says later, after they're both tired and spent and sated. After sex has made things fuzzier. It feels so simple now. It is so true.

"Eddie," Steve starts, ready to tell Eddie about all the ways in which he, Steve, is fucked up. Instead: "Thank you."

"Hey, I got you."

And Eddie does, he really does.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddiesteve #steveeddie #eddie x steve #steve eddie #eddie steve #idk what this is #it just came to me in a fever #enjoy i guess hopefully #ficlet #might eventually crosspost this to AO3 #but i wanna post my real fic first #monstrius writing #monstrous bigboy