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it’s almost that time of the year :)

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I know many of you out there are feeling a bit down. Have a crow to Wouldn’t it be Nice by the Beach Boys to lift your mood.

[hexdbog]

Steve cradles Eddie's face gently as he kisses him with a smile. "I missed you," he whispers between kisses.

"I missed you, too," Eddie says as he kisses a path across Steve's jaw.

Steve groans and thuds his head back against the wall of the Hawkins High School theater room. "Tell me again why we can't tell people yet."

Eddie laughs as he pulls away to look at him with a softness in his gaze. "You've already asked me this twice in the past five minutes."

"Because I want everyone to know about my amazing boyfriend. Robin's going to kill me when she finds out that I've been lying about my series of bad dates. And Dustin will kill both of us for keeping this a secret from him. You know how much he's been begging for us to hang out together."

Eddie sighs and hides his face in the crook of Steve's neck. "It's just not the right time yet." He lifts his head to meet Steves's gaze as he continues, "I just... I'm afraid Dustin or one of the guys will say something at school and accidentally out us. Plus, I want to tell everyone together. Not just you and not just me. Together, okay?"

Steve nods. He would do anything for Eddie. "Not even Robin? he asks.

"Not even Robin."

Steve sighs and nods. "Okay. I promise we'll tell everyone together."

Eddie smiles and leans in. "Seal it with a kiss?"

Steve laughs and wraps his arms around his shoulders. "One more then I have to drive Dustin home before he kills me."

One more kiss turns into two which turns into three until Steve finally breaks away with a big smile and says, "Okay, okay! I have to go!"

Eddie clings onto his hand as Steve tries to leave, and Steve can't help but linger a little longer. "When's your final campaign thing again?"

Eddie smiles. "Two weeks. Think you can make it that long without me?"

"No," Steve replies honestly and moves in closer to hug Eddie tightly. His heart thuds in his chest, and for some reason, he feels like this may be one of the last moments the two of them will get. He tries to shake away the feeling but Eddie must notice.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, concern heavy in his tone as he pulls Steve in closer.

Steve only squeezes him tighter.

"We'll tell them together eventually, okay? Not apart."

Steve nods and breaks the hug, kissing Eddie deeply before he steps back, fingers trailing down Eddie's arms to his hands until they slip away. "Together and not apart. Got it. And hey, two weeks."

"Two weeks," Eddie says with a big smile. "But you better call."

Steve scoffs, "You act like I wouldn't."

Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face, failing to hide the blush on his face. Steve finds it entirely adorable. He walks away and pushes the door slightly open, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom he feels. He pauses in the doorway and turns around. "You know I love you, right?"

Eddie freezes momentarily in confusion, only having heard the phrase a few times. He nods. "I love you, too," he replies a bit breathlessly.

Steve nods before walking out the door, waggling his fingers at Eddie in the way that always makes him laugh. "I'll call you later."

And he does call him later. In fact, Steve can't go a single night without hearing Eddie's voice before he goes to bed, which makes it worse when he doesn't hear from him two weeks later after Lucas's game and their brief fight about how Eddie should've changed the date of the final D&D session.

Only, Steve didn't realize there was more to Eddie missing his call other than their fight.

Things only continue to go downhill after that as the impending doom finally comes.

With the world coming to an end, Steve doesn't really get the chance to talk things through with Eddie, and they both know now is not the time to reveal their secret relationship.

Steve reluctantly agrees to the plan to face Vecna, separating him and Eddie temporarily, but it seems like the best choice to ensure Eddie will stay safe.

But when he hears Dustin's screams as they leave the Creel house, Steve knows that he thought wrong.

And as he drags Eddie's lifeless body out of the Upside Down, he tries as hard as he can to hold his tears back. Because his reaction wouldn't make sense to anyone. And he promised him. They would tell everyone about their relationship together, not apart.

So, Steve waits until everyone leaves him alone, none of them knowing that he's lost the love of his life, and he lets himself finally break. "Together and not apart," Steve sobs, "We were supposed to be together and never apart."

And Steve will never know that Eddie, with his dying breath, tried as hard as he could to tell Dustin that Steve could tell everyone, but he never got the words out.

[hexdbog]

I don't scrumble often but when I do I always find a gem.

my mum just called "scrolling on Tumblr" "scrumbling"

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Yes, I have a framed photograph of Carie Fisher in my home reminding me to take my meds everyday. Don’t you?

[hexdbog]

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!

We’ll find you Amanda.

[hexdbog]

#married

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"Always turn over the exam."

[hexdbog]

So Eddie, who grew up gay in Hawkins, Indiana, has probably never had anyone genuinely interested in him in his entire life. He’s pined long sufferingly, of course, on celebrities and gag athletes (that he would only admit to under pain of death) and even, embarrassingly, his classmates, but no one’s ever liked him back. There was never even a girl thrown into the mix for him to reject. There was no one.

And he got used to it. There are worse things than not being attractive, or desirable, or lacking in whatever quality made others flock to you. Did it suck? Yeah, but he’s been through worse. He has his platonic relationships who love him, who he loves in return, and it’s enough.

So color him surprised when Steve Harrington starts, what seems to be, testing the waters with him. It’s honestly a little funny, at first, because Steve is joking, because he has to be. Because people don’t like Eddie like that. Least of all Steve, who is attractive and kind and desirable and has all those things Eddie doesn’t.

But then it keeps happening. And it starts to scare him a little, because he knows that if Steve thinks he likes him, give them a date, or two, and Steve will realize he fucked up. Which. Which would be worse than it never happening at all. Because Eddie likes Steve so much it hurts. He can’t take his eyes off him, most of the time, can feel his heart flutter whenever Steve says anything- but Eddie’s made peace with who he is in this world, and he doesn’t want that to be disturbed. He’s not the type of person anyone wants to wake up to. #3 of the Munson Doctrine.

And it’s the classic it’s not you it’s me, but it really is Eddie, because he could never believe that anyone could truly like him. Not like that.

And Steve, who has had his love questioned in the past, who’s been called bullshit by Nancy and has never been enough for anyone besides Robin, falls apart a little. He thought Eddie was different. He thought he was reading the signs right and that Eddie liked him back. But he’d been wrong before and he’s wrong now and it’s all just too much. He locks himself in his room and directs all of his sadness inwards, like his parents taught him to.

And Robin, in all her righteous fury, goes to Eddie and screams herself hoarse because she knows Eddie likes Steve, she isn’t blind, but Eddie’s so flippant about the entire thing Robin wants to kill him. Because this is her best friend- her platonic soulmate- and Steve deserves whoever he wants.

And then Eddie says something very sad that takes the wind out of her sails. Something like “Robin, I’m not the kind of guy anyone would ever want to wake up to. I’ve accepted that.”

And Robin of course knows what it’s like to be queer and alone and in Hawkins, so she doesn’t murder him, even though she still kind of wants to. She gives him a hug, instead of stealing Nancy’s gun and killing him, and asks him if he trusts Steve.

Which. Eddie does trust Steve. If he trusts anyone in this world, he trusts Wayne, the Hellfire club, and Steve. And the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. And he’s so, so scared. But he goes straight to Steve’s house and pours his pathetic little heart all over Steve’s front porch, tells him he’s never thought himself worthy of love, that Steve is the first, ever, as mortifyingly embarrassing as that is, to ever want him. And how it took him some time to wrap his head around the fact that his crush likes him back. And that he’s so sorry. That Steve is enough in every sense of the word. And that Eddie just couldn’t accept that someone liked him.

And Steve is just like??? “Your crush?”

And Eddie’s like “ofc you’re my crush are you kidding me? Have you met yourself?”

And after that they’re gone for each other.

And it takes Eddie a while to trust himself- to trust himself to be worthy of the type of affection that pours from his boyfriend. But he trusts Steve- with every fiber of his being, he does, so eventually he gains his footing and is able to see himself as lovable and loving.

Robin kicks herself everyday for interfering because they’re so disgusting but also Steve is so happy, and Robin would do anything and put up with anything for Steve to be able to smile like that.

[hexdbog]

Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

[hexdbog]

The first time Steve calls himself Daddy, it's totally innocent.

There's a bee in the pool and the kids are freaking out. Half of them because they don't want to get stung and the other half because the bee might drown. Eddie is siding with team "don't let the bee drown." Yes, Eddie jumps on tables and is generally an angry dickhead but he loves creepy crawlies and animals. He's very concerned about the life of this bee, okay?

Right up until Steve dips the net into the pool on it's stupidly long pole, muttering, "That's it, come to Daddy." After that, Eddie is on team "don't let Steve notice his boner."

And he goes running to hide in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Robin is there and since they've both divulged their gay secrets to each other, Eddie has had no problem confiding in her about all his lusty feelings about boys. Never about Steve but apparently Eddie's going to cross that line right the fuck now.

"Robin." He says, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a little shake. "I can't handle it. I have to tell you something and I'm sorry ahead of time."

"Okay, Jesus. Don't have a coronary." She shoves his hands away and dips her carrot stick into the ranch, taking a bite and leaning against the counter like she's totally bored but go ahead. "Well?"

"Steve's out there calling himself Daddy and suddenly I want him to rail me into next week."

Which, in hindsight, maybe he should have broken to her with a little more finesse. Or at least a warning. It's too late now though. The damage is done.

After he pounds on her back to save her from choking on a carrot, Robin glares at him, throws what's left of her carrot stick at his junk (ow, rude) and then refuses to talk to him for the rest of the afternoon.

Which, he guesses, is understandable.

This is a prompt from this post by @gothbat99 that I've seen like three times and finally decided I had to write something for it. It's gonna be a series because I already wrote two other parts and I have zero chill about top Steve (as we all know)

I'll come back tmrw and edit this with a part two link 💜

[hexdbog]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

[hexdbog]

Eddie leaned against the counter at the back of the Palace Arcade, staring fixedly at the phone. The phone sat silently, unringing. Mocking him.  

“Time?” Eddie asked, already knowing the answer. It was going to be the same answer he’d gotten the last three times he asked.  

On the other side of the counter, leaning against it with a tired expression, Steve let out a long-suffering sigh. “Two minutes after the last time you asked me,” Steve drawled.  

“Hmm, definitely feels like more than two minutes this time,” Eddie muttered. He eyed the phone, which held up the middle finger and cussed him out. Well, no, it didn’t do that. It just sat there, being a normal phone.  

But it felt like it was doing that. In reality, the phone did nothing. In his mind, it taunted him with cruel and increasingly vulgar language. Eddie’s eyes narrowed.  

“It’s broken, man, I’m calling it.” Eddie straightened up, reeling back from the counter. He gestured at the phone. “No one’s calling because no one can.”  

“It wasn’t broken when we tested it two hours ago, remember?” Steve pointed out. 

“Well, alright, then I’m going to fucking break it.” Eddie barred his teeth at the phone, daring it to continue its silent existence. It did, because again, it was just a normal phone and cared not for his threats.  

Another tired sigh from Steve. Eddie ignored him; the guy had known what he was getting into when he’d offered to keep Eddie company while he waited. They’d been friends for a year now, plenty of time for Harrington to figure out that he was nuts and stop returning his calls.  

The fact that he kept coming around, hanging out with him, inviting him to movies with him and Robin proved it. Steve could bitch and sigh all he wanted, but he was in this. He wanted the phone to ring almost as much as Eddie.  

It would have been weird, their friendship, in any other universe. But that was the thing about Hawkins. You didn’t survive the absolute shitshow that was the Upside Down and not get a little bonded to the guy that carried your almost-lifeless body out of hell.  

Besides, they’d been in the hospital together for months, with very little to do but talk. So they’d gotten to know each other, and each had grudgingly accepted that maybe all the shit they’d thought about the other had been BS.  

Steve came around the other side of the counter now, ignoring Eddie’s insistence that it was employees only, which was rude. What was the fun of working at a place like the Palace if he couldn’t enforce arbitrary rules on all his friends?  

“You are not going to break the phone,” Steve said, putting two hands on Eddie’s shoulders. He looked him in the eyes, shook him a bit. “You need the phone.”  

Eddie glared at Steve, who had just become a collaborator of his greatest enemy and clearly lying about being his friend at all. “Why?”  

“Because that’s where you told Hopper to call you. You can’t break the phone.”  

“It insulted my mother, Steve. It needs to die.”  

“No, it didn’t,” Steve said, so evenly and reasonably, like he was just certain the phone was not making crude insinuations about acts it had performed with his mother the previous night. Jerk.  

Steve dropped his hands from Eddie’s shoulders, turning as someone approached the counter. Eddie glared, annoyed at the customer walking up to them. Part of the appeal of hiding at the back counter was that it was so out of the way that most people never noticed it. It was just the phone and an old, defunct cash register back there.  

The prizes were all at a booth closer to the centre of the arcade now, and Eddie had a belt with change and tokens in it, so there was no need for him to be stuck back there at all. Certainly no reason for any customers to approach.  

Unless they needed tokens and were wondering why he wasn’t walking around the floor, like he was supposed to be. Customers were inconsiderate like that.  

“Hey there, Mr. Wheeler,” Steve said, greeting the customer with a small smile.  

Right, the guy did look familiar. He’d seen him picking Mike and the other kids up before, from the Arcade or Steve’s apartment, when everyone hung out there.  

Ted Wheeler was a tired-looking, bespectacled man in his late 30s or early 40s, who seemed to give off the air of someone much older and much more exhausted with humanity. “Hmm,” he said, by way of greeting.  

“I um, have been sent to get more tokens,” Mr. Wheeler said in a flat voice. He held out a handful of change, which Eddie took. He counted it out quickly, then gave the appropriate amount of tokens back. “Thanks.”  

He pocketed the tokens, then glanced at Steve. “Do you have the time?”  

“Yeah, it’s a quarter after three,” Steve said, automatically. Eddie grinned, and Steve shot him a glare, annoyed at having been tricked into revealing the exact time to him.  

“Hmm,” Mr. Wheeler said again. “I was supposed to pick the kids up at three,” he said, looking sour. “Do either of you happen to know why Mike keeps shooing me away, and every single one of them refuses to look away from that game?”  

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, exchanging a look with Eddie. “Max is trying to beat the high score on DIGDUG again. She had the most points before, but with everything that happened last year...” He shrugged. It seemed pretty obvious why Max hadn’t exactly been able to maintain her high score last year. “So she’s trying to beat it again, and she’s close.”  

“Ah,” Mr. Wheeler said. “Well, at least it’s something important,” he drawled.  

“Yup,” Steve agreed, pointedly ignoring Mr. Wheeler’s sarcasm.  

“You know, after everything she’s been through, I think it’s great to see her getting back to her old self,” Eddie agreed. “Life’s been a shitshow for the kid, right?”  

Steve nodded. They both looked at Ted, who glared at them. He had no response to that, and they both knew it. Yes, he had to wait for Max and everyone else to play a video game. No, no one was going to be on his side about being annoyed about that.  

Max had spent her fair share of time in the hospital with the two of them, and if she decided her new hobby was going around beating the crap out of old ladies, Steve and Eddie would have her back on that too.  

“I thought you worked at the video store,” Ted said, changing the subject. He didn’t seem eager to head back to the cheering kids hovering around Max at the DIGDUG cabinet.  

“I do,” Steve said. “I’m just keeping Eddie company while he waits.”  

“Waits?”  

Steve nodded. “Hopper’s calling soon.”  

Eddie snorted. “No, he’s not. He's never calling, because he’s a lying liar who hates me and wants me to suffer in an eternity of torment.”  

Ted raised his eyebrows; Steve just shrugged.  

“What’s he calling about?”  

“Whether or not I’m a murderer,” Eddie said glumly. He balled his hand into a fist and nervously pressed it against his mouth. “He was talking to the DA today about getting the charges dropped.”  

Eddie hated this. Hated waiting, hated that his fate was so utterly out of his own hands. Hated that he was still dealing with this shit a fucking year later. But the town had been in so much chaos after the defeat of the Upside Down and Vecna’s death that it had taken almost six months for anyone to remember about Eddie.  

But they had remembered eventually, and Hopper had delivered the news that he’d been officially charged in the death of Chrissy Cunningham while Eddie had still been recovering from his wounds at home.  

It was a bullshit charge, Hopper said. They’d drop it easily, he’d said. The coroner's report clearly indicated that no external force had touched Chrissy. It was a seizure of some kind, most likely. The reports for the other three victims said the same thing, and no one could place Eddie anywhere near those.  

Jason’s half-mad, unofficial testimony that he’d used black magic to kill Patrick notwithstanding.  

Hopper would get the charges thrown out with no further action. He’d promised.  

That was six months ago. The legal system moved at a snail's pace, and it was slowly eating away at whatever was left of Eddie’s sanity.  

But today was the day. He'd find out that the charges were either dropped... or when his arraignment would be.  

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve said quietly. “He’ll call.”  

Eddie just sort of groaned in response. He was staring at the phone again, willing it to either ring or spontaneously combust. It did neither.  

“Right,” Ted said, shifting awkwardly. “Well, uh... good luck with that...” he muttered. “I’m gonna...” He turned and walked away, likely heading back to his son and the screaming group of his friends.  

“What if they didn’t drop them?” Eddie muttered. “I mean, like actually, what the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t afford a lawyer... not a decent one.”  

“It’ll be okay, Eddie—” Steve started.  

“You can’t promise that!” Eddie snapped. He didn’t mean to yell at Steve, but he was freaking out, and he couldn’t yell at anyone he actually wanted to yell at. Fucking Jason Carver... Vecna... they were all goddamned dead. Which at this moment felt very rude. He wished they were back, so he could kill them himself. Earn the title of murderer that had already been handed to him.�� 

No, he didn’t wish that. Especially not about Vecna.  

But he was freaking out.  

“Look at me, man,” Eddie said. “ Every jury in the world would convict me. Hell, I was almost a victim of vigilante mob justice! They didn’t even have evidence or the kind of fancy speeches that lawyers will have if this goes to trial.” Eddie shook his head miserably. “Maybe I can strike a deal, plead guilty, get a reduced sentence...”  

“Eddie...”  

The phone rang. Eddie yelped. “Shit shit shit, what do I do?” he looked at Steve, terrified. “What do I do?”  

“Answer it, asshole!”  

Eddie grabbed the phone. “HelloPalaceArcadeEddieSpeaking.”   

It was Hopper. He spoke quickly. Eddie listened. He held his breath. Next to him, Steve moved in close, listening to what Hopper was saying. He said a lot of things that were having a not-easy time sticking in Eddie’s mind. He heard things like lack of evidence and inexcusable modern witch hunt. None of it made sense. Was Hopper even speaking English? Did Eddie speak English? 

What were words?   

But he saw the look on Steve’s face, and slowly the words began to sort themselves out. Steve looked happy.   

“ The case against you has been thrown out,” Hopper had said. Whatever the fuck else he’d said, he’d definitely said that.  

“So, wait... so I’m not a murderer?” Eddie asked. “I’m not being charged; I’m not... going to jail?” 

“Nope,” Hopper said. “You’re a free man, Eddie Munson.”  

Eddie blinked. He stared down at the receiver in his hand. Words were failing him again. Fortunately, Steve picked up the slack. He took the phone from Eddie and thanked Hopper for everything, explained that Eddie was just malfunctioning at the moment. Hopper invited them over for dinner with him, Joyce and the rest of his family later in the week, and Steve agreed for both of them. Then he hung up the phone and looked at Eddie.  

“Eddie,” Steve said, a hand back on his shoulder, shaking him. “Eddie, did you hear him?”  

Eddie nodded. He looked at Steve, his heartbeat picking up erratically in his chest.  

“Did he say—”  

“He did, he fucking said it—”  

“It’s okay? It’s fucking okay?”  

“Yes,” Steve practically shouted, shaking him again. He jumped up a little, getting excited. “You’re fucking free, charges dropped!”   

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Eddie said, the truth finally hitting him. He wasn’t going to jail, didn’t have to go through a trial. He wasn’t a murderer, he was cleared. He felt dizzy and put a hand on Steve’s chest to steady himself. Steve was still shaking him, talking excitedly, saying they had to call Wayne, had to call Robin, had to tell everyone—  

“I’m fucking free, I’m fucking free,” Eddie babbled. Steve’s excitement was making him giddy, and he shook Steve back, clasping his arms.  

“You’re fucking free,” Steve agreed.  

Happiness, relief, exhaustion and the desire to cry like a little bitty baby all welled up in Eddie’s chest. The nightmare was over, after so fucking long. It was more than a weight off his shoulders, he was weightlessness itself, floating and untethered.  

He teetered deliriously on his feet, still clutching Steve like he might actually drift away if he let go of him. Steve’s face was close to his, and they were holding onto each other, elated and ecstatic. And then Steve’s hands were on his face, holding him, and Steve’s mouth was against his, kissing him.  

And Eddie was so relieved, so happy, so free that he didn’t even realize. Steve was kissing him, and he was kissing Steve back, and everything was fan-fucking-tastic.   

The sound of a throat being cleared brought him back down to reality.  

Steve backed away, blinking and dazed. Eddie looked at him. They both turned and looked at Ted Wheeler, who had wandered back over.  

“Umm... good news?” Ted asked. His face was neutral and expressionless, as usual. 

Eddie cleared his throat. “Charges dropped,” he said gruffly.  

“That’s great,” Ted said mildly. “I wanted to ask if you knew when the kids might be done... I can just go home and come back, if it’s going to be an hour or more?”  

“Uh...” Steve said. “Probably, yeah.”  

Eddie nodded in agreement. “DIGDUG can be challenging.”  

“Right,” Ted said. He looked at them. They looked back. Several long moments passed.  

“That wasn’t what you think,” Steve blurted.  

Ted was silent.  

“It was an accident,” Eddie added. Steve nodded quickly. “We didn’t—we weren’t—we just got caught up in the moment, was all.”  

“Yeah, it was just, lots of emotions, uh... emotional... caught up,” Steve said, somewhat nonsensically. He crossed his arms, sticking his hands under his armpits. “An accident.”  

“Right,” Ted said, a note of disbelief in his otherwise bored tone. “I’m heading out, tell the kids to call me when they’re done... Digdugging.” He walked off, leaving the two of them standing there, staring.  

Neither of them said anything for a while. Eventually, Eddie found his voice. “Can we kill him?”  

“Eddie!”  

“What? He thinks he knows something—which he doesn’t, because there’s nothing to know because it was an accident—but still.”  

“You just got murderer charges dropped, there’s no way you’re going to commit an actual murder.”   

“Well, why not?” Eddie challenged. “Why not? I spent a year being called a murderer for something I didn’t even do! I think I should get to do a little actual murder,” he said. “As a treat.”  

Steve glared, and Eddie threw up his hands. “You’re so goddamned unreasonable, Steven!”  

“Look, it was an accident,” Steve said. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“I don’t think Mr. Wheeler believes that.”  

“Well, screw him, it was an accident. We know it was.” 

“Of course,” Eddie agreed. “I wasn’t even thinking about it. It just happened.”  

“Exactly, me too. It would have been totally different if we’d been thinking about it.”  

“Right. On-purpose kisses are completely different from accidental ones,” Eddie said. Steve nodded.  

A few more moments passed quietly. Eddie thought back a few minutes, to when Steve’s mouth had been on his. It had been an accident. But did that mean it was a mistake? If he was being honest... no. Not for him, at least.  

It had been nice, kissing Steve.  

Eddie cleared his throat and glanced over at Steve. “Um, I know how we can prove it was an accident,” he said casually. Steve raised an eyebrow. “If we go into the backroom and kiss on purpose, we’ll be able to see. Y’know, how different it is.”  

Steve nodded slowly, apparently turning this information over in his mind. Eddie watched him carefully, looking for some sign of disgust or disinterest. “That’s smart,” Steve said. Eddie let out a relieved breath. “We can like, uh, compare,” he said.  

“And then we’ll have proof,” Eddie said. “And that’ll show him.”  

“Show who?”  

“Mr. Wheeler.”  

“Right,” Steve said. “Him. Yeah, that’s a good plan. Good idea.”  

“The only kind I have,” Eddie said, grinning.  

Steve snorted. “A second ago, you were planning on killing Mike’s dad.”  

“Sorry, can’t hear you, heading to the back room already,” Eddie said, moving out from behind the counter. He walked in the direction of the back room, and glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”  

Steve nodded and raced forward, a big smile on his face.  

Two hours later, when Ted Wheeler arrived (once again) at the arcade to collect his kid (and his kid's friends), Steve and Eddie were still nowhere to be seen. He sighed tiredly. “An accident...” he muttered. “Right.” 

--- Based on the First Kiss prompt from @dwobbitfromtheshire

Read on AO3

[hexdbog]

god she is so powerful

[hexdbog]

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something