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sp0o0kylights · 7 months

Text

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it.

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it.

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned.

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design.

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy.

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job.

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family.

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead.

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents.

How his money went into a bank account they had access to.

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line.

And boy, had he been acting out of line.

Getting into fights.

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills.

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.)

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track.

His own plans be damned.

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

“We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot.

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen.

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas.

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!”

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him.

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go.

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong.

xXx

Mike hadn’t cared.

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months.

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.)

Max was the surprising emotional standout.

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them.

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him.

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage.

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh.

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again.

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.)

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.”

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy.

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?”

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval.

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max.

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.

xXx

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom.

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble.

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter.

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago.

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck.

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles.

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!”

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.”

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large.

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road.

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone.

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it.

Now he just stared tiredly at her back.

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case.

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second.

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it.

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort.

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.”

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone.

It was just---Nancy did know.

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life.

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year.

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that.

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down.

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.)

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.”

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to.

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin.

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now.

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm.

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough.

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…”

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them.

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt.

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car.

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit.

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things.

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?”

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice.

A third time for good measure.

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.”

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really.

Not anymore.

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused.

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in.

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy.

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’

He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.”

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet.

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise.

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut.

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point.

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand.

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?”

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left.

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin.

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed.

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking.

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him.

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal.

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door.

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open.

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to.

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward.

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents?

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes.

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing .

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there.

xXx

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead.

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that.

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it.

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough.

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone.

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him.

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in.

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away.

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.)

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt.

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan.

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can.

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times.

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out.

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.”

Then; “It gets worse.”

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans.

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl.

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid,

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.”

Steve stayed silent.

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones.

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.”

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut.

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now.

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--”

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer.

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.”

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry.

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him.

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.”

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done.

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie.

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.”

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news.

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.”

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…”

He’d put his wife first. His family, first.

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one.

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess.

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored.

They’d warned him.

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic.

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was.

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.”

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle.

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary.

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind.

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come.

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie.

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger?

Steve would bow to their whims.

Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it.

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand.

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work.

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish.

Steve would try anyway.

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck.

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.”

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine.

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?”

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one.

Not when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it.

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was.

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him.

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins.

No matter how long the engagement.

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him.

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think.

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel.

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others.

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin.

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.)

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?”

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there.

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question.

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway.

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart.

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce.

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest.

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse.

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead.

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly.

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve.

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too.

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!”

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so.

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!”

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either.

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.”

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying.

Speaking of;

“When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been.

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home.

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice.

Part Two

#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished #THAT SURE LASTED LONG #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #This is very Steve focused #TW his horrible parents #VERY hurt #comforts later #with eddie!#I really wanted to explore Steves Parents #in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion #TW forced marriage #or mentions of #I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids #and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids #would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government #but neither of those things want you to like them #theyll let you know theyll eat you #Steves parents #like many rich dicks #want to isolate #want you to think theyre amazing #and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain #hence the title of this fic #whiiiich is chokechain #stranger things #tw drinking

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

Is this okay?

tw: discussions of panic attacks, discussions sa (nothing graphic or very far, and no assualt happens with steddie), and implied sexual coercion.

Steve knew there was never a good time to have a panic attack.

But this most definitely felt like the absolute worst time.

He was having sex with a girl. He had to clarify that to Robin when he told her he was going on a date; he hadn't gotten the nerve to do the “sex with a guy” thing yet. So he went with what he knew. Besides, there was only one guy Steve really wanted.

But he was having sex with a girl, a girl named Linda, who had given him her number at a diner across town where she worked. Steve had thought she was nice, pretty. Very all-American with her blonde hair, blue eyes and perfectly straight teeth. No matter how pretty she was though, Steve didn’t really feel much for her.

He felt terrible about that. Steve felt like he had wasted her time. He didn’t want Linda to feel that way, so he wanted to ensure she got something out of the date. So when they had finished milkshakes at a different diner than the one she worked at (yea he hadn’t put much thought into the date), he agreed to go back to her place.

He really shouldn’t have agreed to go back to her place.

In retrospect, Steve knew it was wrong to have sex with Linda. Not because having sex on the first date was bad, but because he shouldn't have sex with someone just because he felt bad. Steve imagines if one of the kids did that, or if Robin did that, he would lose his mind. He would be so upset, not with them, but with whomever they felt pressure to do it with. It’s just hard for him to apply to himself.

Guess that’s what valuing yourself for only sex at a young would do to you. King Steve, he could hear them say.

He had ignored his instincts, though, and went back to her place anyway.

It had started fine; it really had. Steve went down on her, wanting to make her feel good. That was the whole point. Steve was excited about that part. But then it came to sealing the deal. Linda wanted him naked, of course. But Steve couldn’t bring himself to take off his shirt. Even months later, he was insecure about the new scars on his body. Steve told Linda he wanted to keep it on.

She had been okay with it at first.

It’s when they were in the middle of it, sweaty bodies colliding with each other, that it happens.

Linda's hands snuck up his shirt, and Steve completely freezes. Steve just full stops in the middle of sex.

“Why did you stop?” Linda asked, exasperated like Steve was annoying her.

“I—just. Your hands.” Steve choked out.

“You’re upset? With my hands under your shirt? Seriously?”

“I—“ Steve felt the pressure begin to build up in his chest. Something was definitely wrong, right on the edge of overflowing.

“Sorry, I guess. Probably better off anyway. I don’t know what happened under there, but it didn’t feel good. Can’t imagine it’s pretty. Can we just get back into it?” Linda tried to pull Steve down for a kiss, but he yanked his head away from her.

Steve was suddenly hyper-aware of everything on his skin. Every stretch, every pull, every lump. Steve swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he tried to calm his breath.

Linda didn’t seem to notice. “C’mon, Steve. I thought I was getting the King out of this. I’ve heard the rumors. I may have graduated the year before you, but even I know how good you make girls feel in bed.” Steve felt dirty. Used. This wasn’t what sex was supposed to be like. Not unless he wanted it like that, and today he had most definitely not wanted that. His breath was coming out in short pants. His hands were sweating. Linda continued, “You’re acting like a freak right now. God. This was such a waste of time.”

Steve was up in an instant, scrambling to get all of his clothes on. He wanted out. Out of this bed. Out of this apartment. Out of his head.

Steve thought that maybe Linda had said something to him on his way out, something that his subconscious must have picked up because he could feel the tears down his face in reaction to her voice. Steve ran out the door, ignoring her.

The rest was kind of a blur.

One second, Steve was throwing himself inside his car, trying to choke himself on his own breath. The next, he was flying down Main Street, with only the flashes of street lights as a reminder to his brain that he was moving.

Then, suddenly, Steve was banging on the metal door of a trailer.

When did he get here? Who’s door is this? What time was it? God, where were his shoes?

Steve leaned his head against the cool metal, as he tried to ground himself. It wasn’t working. He could feel reality slipping from him. He just wanted to fucking breathe.

The trailer door opened just when Steve was contemplating banging his head against it. Steve fell forward, his weight had been entirely against the door, he stumbled slightly before catching himself on the frame.

“Steve?” He heard a confused familiar voice.

Oh thank god, it was Eddie. Eddie would help him. Eddie would know what to do.

“Eddie I—I”

“Stevie, what? What’a wrong?” Steve could see Eddie’s sleepy fast morph into concern. Steve felt bad, probably woke him up. He knew Eddie didn’t get much sleep nowadays. Steve needed to tell him he was sorry.

All that came out, though, was, “I—I can’t breathe.”

Steve hunched over, slamming himself into one side of the frame. Eddie moved to catch him, but hovers his hands instead. Steve saw panic flash across his face.

Steve really needed to say sorry.

He didn’t get to, though, because suddenly Eddie asked, “Can I touch you?”

It shouldn’t have broken him, something as simple as that. It was a simple question. A courtesy, a common fucking decency. Some people didn’t like to be touched during panic attacks, and Steve now understood what was happening, and Eddie was just being kind. It shouldn’t have broken him.

But it did. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone asked what he had wanted. Especially tonight.

Suddenly Steve was sobbing, throwing himself into Eddie’s awaiting arms. Eddie shushed him softly and brought him inside. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry. It may be scary now, but it’ll be okay.”

Eddie walked them to the couch, shutting the fire gently behind them. Eddie laid Steve’s head on his shoulder and gently rocked them back and forth for awhile. Eddie whispered sweet nothing in his ears as Steve loudly wept.

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time his cries quieted. He pulled back to look at Eddie and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Steve felt the panic still stewing in his chest, but most of it had spilled out.

Eddie brushed a hair behind his ear, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve hesitated. He was scared of how Eddie would react. Would he call him dramatic? Would he say that both Linda and he were using each other? That he should be glad that he was getting laid? That someone liked him enough to look past the scars? Steve knew in his heart, though, that Eddie was safe. No matter what Steve said, Eddie would at least try to understand.

“Promise not to be mad?”

“I can promise to not be mad at you. Whatever that made you upset could be a different story. But I promise you sweetheart, I’ll never be mad at you for having feelings.” Eddie grabbed his hand and squeezed it in encouragement.

Steve took a deep breath before speaking. “I was on a date—“ Eddie had a flash of some emotion that Steve couldn’t process entirely at the moment, and it was gone before he could say something. “—And the girl I was with, she was nice. She was pretty. She should be what I want.”

Eddie nodded in encouragement. Steve pushed on. “But the date wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad, not really, just nothing special. It was on me, I didn’t even try. Not really. And I felt so bad that she wasn’t getting much out of it.”

“So you panicked because of a bad—sorry mediocre date? Steve, it’s okay. You don’t owe her anything.” Eddie didn’t sound angry or judgmental. He sounded concerned, if anything. His tone was gentle and warm; Steve didn’t want that to change.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Steve, I promised you I wouldn’t be.” Again, Eddie’s tone was gentle.

“I felt bad, ya know? I should make the date better. Give her something. So when she asked me to her place, I didn’t say no, and I know I should have said no. But she was nice initially, and I didn’t want to upset her. So I went upstairs—“ Steve started to rush out his words, the panic building up again “—and it was fun at first. I gave oral; I liked that part; I always like making my partners feel good. But then she wanted to have sex, and I—I wanted to keep my shirt on. My scars they—they still feel like they're fresh some days. And I didn’t want to deal with them. And she was good about it at first, I swear! But then she put her hands up my shirt, and I just couldn’t do it. I just, god, Eddie, I just froze. And she was so upset with me. Talked about how she expected better from me. How this wasn’t King Steve. How she was happy, the shirt was on because what was underneath didn’t feel good and…” Steve trailed off.

Eddie looked furious. There was a quiet rage that seeped through his breaths. His shoulders were rigid. Even so, his grip never turned harsh. It never caused Steve pain.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered.

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry Steve. It’s okay. Continue if you like.” Eddie choked out but sounded sincere.

Steve looked directly into his eyes for a moment before deciding to continue. “I was panicking. I couldn’t breathe, Eddie. And she still…she still wanted to continue. Like, pretend I wasn’t about to have a psychotic break. And I just felt like this thing. Like I was an object to be used and discarded, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t stay there. I just left. And I probably freaked her out and gave her the worst night of her life, and I—“

Eddie cut him off by bring his hands to Steve’s face and gently brushed his tears away. “Ssshh, you didn’t—you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”

Steve nodded furiously unable to speak.

Eddie held eye contact as he spoke. “I want you to listen to me alright? I got a couple of things to say but I need you to tell me if it’s too much? This is not about me. You won’t hurt my feelings. Okay?

Steve nodded again.

“Honey, I need you to say it.”

“Okay.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. He didn’t let go of Steve’s face, gently cradled it as he began again. “First off, I am not mad at you. You did nothing wrong. Nothing Steve. I’m mad at her. She—She doesn’t get to touch you like that. Not if you don’t want her to. Even if you didn’t say it, you were clearly not enjoying yourself. And she didn’t care. She disregarded your feelings multiple times and even made fun of you, and guilted you into doing more than you’re comfortable with. I know it’s difficult to hear, but what she did was assault.”

Steve tried to protest, “I consented. I did that because I wanted to—”

Eddie cut him off but wasn't unkind in doing so. “Steve. If you felt guilty for not wanting to do anything with her, so you did something anyway to make her feel better, that isn’t consent. But I can’t label it for you. If you feel otherwise, it’s not my place to tell you. I’m here for you either way. But I’m going to tell you something. Not the whole thing, not right now. Maybe another day. This isn’t about me, though. I just think you might need to hear it.”

Steve nodded again.

Eddie slid his hands down to Steve’s hips like it was his turn to ground himself. Steve didn’t mind. “A couple of years ago, I was in my first relationship. I’m gay, as you know, so being open wasn’t really an option. No one could tell me right from wrong because no one knew. I lost my virginity to this guy; he was a couple of years older. I definitely knew what he was doing even though I didn’t. We had sex all the time. But one day, I wasn’t in the mood. It happens. But…but he made me feel so guilty about it. Like I had hurt him, told him he was the problem. Like there was a problem at all, like I didn’t simply want to have sex, he has made it about me having internalized homophobia, about how I didn’t really love him, how I was selfish. So I caved. I had sex with him anyway. And then I went home that night. Went back to the trailer, only to find Wayne had the rare night off that night. When I saw him, I burst into tears and told him what had happened. He hadn’t even known I was gay. He didn’t care, though, about any of it. But he had to explain to me that it didn’t matter what gender it was; if I didn’t want to have sex, that was up to me that I didn’t need to prove anything. And that anyone who said otherwise didn’t actually care about me.”

Steve was no longer in a panic, but his tears didn’t stop. He was so, so sad. Sad for Eddie. For himself.

“How do you feel now? About it all?” Steve spoke for the first time in ten minutes.

Eddie shrugged. He squeezed Steve’s hips. “Good some days. Bad others. Better overall. I’ll never be completely over it. I know that, but I—I have good things now to help me through it.” Eddie pointedly looked at Steve, a soft smile on his face.

Steve thought about saying sorry to him. That he was sorry that ever happened, but he knew that, like himself, Eddie wouldn’t want that. So Steve settled on the truth. “I don’t know what to call it. I think—I know I didn’t like it. And I know it hurt even if it wasn’t physical. I still feel like I did something wrong. Even if I know I didn’t. I’m worried I’ll change my mind and that I’ll be wrong.”

Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “You can always change your mind about this, but you’ll never be wrong. You will not be wrong about your feelings.”

“Okay.”

“I think we should talk more about this, but you’ve had a long night. Do you want to stay tonight? I can stay on the couch; you can have my bed. I don’t really want you too far. You scared me a bit today—which again isn’t your fault. But if you’re okay with it, I want to be here to help.”

Steve swallowed another dry lump. The emotion this time was good. Overwhelmed with the care Eddie was giving him, he responded “You don’t have to stay on the couch. We can share.”

Eddie tensed, “Steve, don’t offer just cause I might be uncomfortable.”

Steve soothed a hand down Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would like it, if, ya know, you stayed with me. Just lay next to me. If that’s alright with you.”

Eddie smiled softly, “Only if you’re sure it’s okay.”

They get ready for bed after that. Eddie, already in pj’s, handed Steve an old Metallica shirt with holes in it and plaid pants. He changed in the bathroom despite having undressed in front of Eddie before. Steve wasn’t sure he was ready to be naked in front of another person yet.

After a few minutes, Eddie and Steve got comfortable in bed. Hair splayed out in the pillows and cozy under the covers, both boys just stared at the ceiling. “Would you…would you touch me, Eddie? Just…just need to know you’re there.” Steve felt silly saying it; he could see Eddie right there. He wasn’t making much sense.

Eddie seemed to get it, though. “Of course, baby.” He shifted to his side and moved Steve along with him until they were spooning. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest.

Steve could feel Eddie’s hot breath against his neck. In any other scenario with him, it might have been a charged moment. Now it was different. Better even. It was solace.

“Is this okay?” Eddie whispered into the dark room.

Steve thought about his night. How awful it was, how it probably would get worse before it got better. That he had a lot to work on, but there in the bed where Eddie held him tightly, safely, Steve couldn’t help but feel relief. He knew this was the place he needed to be. No matter how bad the day went, Eddie would support him. Love him.

“Yea, it’s okay.”

———

this was heavy and very personal. It honestly did start off as a panic attack fic but as usual I spiraled. This one though like spiraled in a different way then usual. It felt like something I needed to get out. I know probably three people will read it and no one will probably enjoy it, but it felt good to write it. I think I might write an extended version part on ao3, there were parts in it that felt rush or could have been more.

this again felt more personal (even though my fics are always at least a little personal) so be kind.

If you, a friend or family member may have experienced something like the content of this story please feel free to reach out. Whether that be to me, a friend, or a helpline. My inbox is always open. Be kind to yourself and others 🧡

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