achingly-tired

[achingly-tired]

Follow up to the Modern Day Youtube AU I posted [link] with my tags from the original and a bit more bonus information because the original post is too long already:

Billy frequently leaves hate comments. He’s been reported by fans who don’t know he’s related to Max and had his account banned countless times but he keeps making new ones.

Eddie eventually does ask the party to join a campaign once they’ve made a full apology to Steve for the attitude they gave him and they absolutely terrorise him but he does it right back and it’s great content.

Fans start writing Steddie fanfics and analysing their interactions in videos and they pretend to not know about them so their lives can know peace, but then Robin exposes their chat where they share recs and links and regularly chat about them. Then there’s the one time Steve’s doing a live stream and Eddie kicks down the door like listen to this shit Stevie I would never say this.

Eddie secretly writes a few fics himself because he knows his will be more accurate but he does it anonymously. No one’s caught him but he knows for a fact one of them is Steve’s favourite and that gives him a huge ego boost.

Eventually, he just keeps making the plots of his fics weirder and weirder until there's a full high fantasy AU with everyone in it as different characters. That's when people in the comments start to become suspicious because why are there lines of dialogue in it that some NPCs from his new campaign have said if this fic came out well before the campaign started? There are only 2 answers, Eddie has read the fic and taken inspiration from it or Eddie is the original author.

Nancy starts a true crime channel and at first Jonathan is her cohost, but he doesn't really get the fascination so eventually Robin takes over and it's super popular because they are both relentless enough in their research to get information and secure interviews that no one else has. Jonathan eventually takes on a role behind the camera because he knows he can do a better job than their current one and he's right the quality improves tenfold.

At some point Robin posts a drunk tiktok of Steve doing karaoke and Eddie doesn't stop badgering him until he agrees to sing a proper cover of the song from the video with Eddie's band on Eddie's channel because his voice is so good how could he just withhold this information from the world?

[achingly-tired]

Eddie confesses his love for Steve who very awkwardly explains he’s straight and not into him like that. Eddie is surprisingly okay with this, like he didn’t expect anything else, claiming he just wanted to tell him so he knew how loved he was. That sentiment does things to Steve but he doesn’t really know what, just knows it makes him warm and almost wish he wasn’t straight just so he could accept all the love Eddie clearly has to give. At first Steve thinks they’ll go back to normal and they kind of do, now with the shadow of Eddie’s love peeking through but not a hinderance, until Eddie tells them he’s going on a date with a cute guy and Steve? Steve sees green. Had no idea he was even capable of being this jealous but suddenly he realizes that lingering bad feeling has been regret. He regrets turning Eddie down, he regrets not taking what was his when he had the chance, he regrets not realizing he isn’t straight fast enough. Steve does his absolute best not to speed on his way over to Eddie’s and is so relieved to see him through his window still home. He practically stumbles into the house in his haste.

“Don’t go on that date,” Steve says before the door even closes behind him.

“Why?” Eddie asks in complete confusion.

“I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know I loved you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you…did you stop loving me?”

“Never.”

“Then don’t go on that date.”

“Canceled. You’re serious?”

“Come here please,” Steve says and draws him into his arms.

When Eddie kisses him he truly doesn’t understand how he could have ended up anywhere but here, like this, with someone he loves. Someone who loves him back.

[achingly-tired]

Hello, hi! It's been a while, but I just had this thought and wanted to share. It immediately gave me a lot of joy, so I'm hoping it'll do the same for others 💚

We love Steddie and we love platonic Stobin here, right? So, imagine whenever Steve has Eddie or Robin stay over for a night, or even a few nights.

(Of course they could both be over at the same time too because that's how we roll here)

Let's go with Stobin first

The night of Starcourt they share a bed, because Robin was absolutely not about to let Steve out of her sight after enduring another concussion. She needed to know he'd be okay while he slept.

After that night, sharing a bed was just easier. If either of them had a nightmare, the other was right there to lean on. Eventually, after learning a ton about Steve, Robin was determined to make sure that Steve knew he was loved.

Maybe she was always the first to fall asleep, but she also woke up randomly during the night without fail. One night she's ridiculously tired and a little frustrated, because she's ridiculously tired and doesn't even know why she woke up. However, she knows that physical touch helps her a lot. But Steve has his back to her this time.

Robin ultimately doesn't care. She huffs softly and snuggles right up to her best friend's back. She wiggles her arm underneath his and falls back asleep after he subconsciously places his hand over hers. This didn't happen often, but neither of them questioned it when it did.

Now for the Steddie version

Months after the whole Vecna fight, let's say that Eddie was staying with Steve for a few nights. He wakes up after a nightmare and just needs to check on Steve. Eddie makes his way down the hall and quietly opens Steve's bedroom door to peek inside. Turns out that wasn't enough to settle his panicked mind, so he goes in and checks that Steve is still breathing.

This ends up happening multiple times, until one night, Steve wakes up (not the first time that's happened either) and pulls Eddie into his bed, murmuring a soft "Go back to sleep, Eds". Eddie does go back to sleep once the two of them are situated. After that, they never sleep in separate beds again.

Much like how it happened with Robin, Eddie rolls over and wraps an arm around Steve, pulling him closer. Steve, being used to be the little spoon by now, accepts this easily and hugs Eddie's arm to his chest. He may have woken up due to being pulled backwards, but it was obvious to him that Eddie was still fast asleep.

I just feel like this would help Steve feel so loved and safe fr. Even if the Steddie version was accidental at first. I still like to think the Steve and Eddie would just fall into a pattern of cuddling after that. And maybe it becomes a more frequent and sought after thing once Eddie learns that Steve needs that in his life to feel like he's cared for.

Also, Steve falling asleep on the couch with Eddie and/or Robin and they just carefully maneuver him to where his head is laying on their lap. Then they just start running their hands through his hair while he snoozes.

If there was any confusion, yes this is a pre-Steddie imagine. Because why else would they be in separate beds to begin with?

Taglist (Open!)

@wheneverfeasible

[achingly-tired]

What is a Heart Worth if It's Just Left All Alone?

Rating: General CWs: None! Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, POV Outsider, Switching POV, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Breakup (Brief), Getting Back Together, Love Confessions, Dialogue Heavy, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson Being a Voice of Reason, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Have a Brotherly Friendship, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues Wrote this all on Tumblr this morning literally in an hour. Hope it's good! Title from "Questions" by Jack Johnson

💕—————💕 Steve and Eddie are seen always sitting next to each other. At first, when they were just friends, it was nothing more than just an Oh, hey, this seat is empty, mind if I sit down? Now that they're several months deep into dating, it's as if they'll evaporate without the other right by their side.

Movie nights? Cuddling together. BBQ at the Byers-Hopper house? Thigh to thigh, eating off the same plate. All the seats full? A lap is now a seat.

They hold hands; Steve sometimes spinning Eddie's rings, Eddie popping Steve's tense knuckles. Arms slung over shoulders. Ankles looped around each other. Again, food shared between plates, forks, and fingers. Petting hair, twirling strands, braiding chunks. Murmured compliments and whispered questions and smiley answers. Commentary about the show or the movie or the commercial. Naps intertwined, snuffling under the only throw blanket, craning their necks to watch over each other.

It's sick.

It's sweet.

Nobody's seen them as happy as they are than when they're with each other. If they don't spend at least five of seven days in a week together, then they pout and groan and those arbitrary questions come popping back up—"Is he okay? Did I go too far with something? Why isn't he seeing me right now?" Long gaps between dates means reunions as if the world is still ending; long winded hugs and smiles too big for their faces and hushed words nobody knows how to pick up. Sometimes a kiss...or two...or three.

And then, out of nowhere, Steve and Eddie stop.

Stop hanging out. Stop talking to each other. Stop being in the same room, on the same couch, in the same conversation.

It's weird.

"We broke up," Steve says in this quiet, dismissive way. Utterly void and somehow completely flimsy. He shrugs at Dustin's confused, questioning look. "I'm fine. Eddie's fine. It was...it was mutual. Don't worry."

Don't worry?

That's all Dustin's doing now!

In what world do Steve and Eddie—or better yet, SteveandEddie—just up and leave one another's lives? Sure, the affection they put out sometimes interrupted everything else going on around it. And yeah, if he had to see basically his two older brothers mack it one more time, Dustin was going to ralph—and not in that homophobic, Billy Hargrove/Jason Carver/Troy Walsh way. But because it was always so graphic and noisy and full of pure love that Dustin had nothing else to do but look away. He had to for his own sanity!

But now it's just...gone? All of it?

The gentle, teasing remarks. The warm, sleepy, early morning laughter that followed an all group sleepover. Arcade visits where the two were fighting over the same cabinet. No more bickering over the radio station, swapping sunglasses, turning down the volume if Steve had those early telltale signs of a migraine. Goodbye coffee runs and BBQ plate sharing and grabbing the other's favorite at a convenience store—just because.

"What do you mean you guys broke up?" Dustin squawks. "What the—How in the—Just like that?! What the hell even happened? You guys were perfect for each other!"

Because, yeah, as much as he'd been cheering for the whole SteveandRobin of it all...he has eyes. He's got eyes all over his head, blinking, gazing right into the sun that is Steve and Eddie's megawatt, shiny, beautiful relationship. They're an endgame telenova couple, and Dustin just sat down with his bowl of popcorn! No way is he letting these kernels go stale.

Steve shrugs dismissively—again. He's gripping his steering wheel tight, though. And his sunglasses are sitting low enough on his nose to unsheathe his shiny, sad eyes. Dustin's a fool, but he's not a moron. These are the telltale signs of heartbreak—and yikes does Steve wear it all well...too well.

"I don't know what to tell you, Dusty. Some things just don't work out. No matter how good they were going." He flicks his turn signal to flash left, right towards Forest Hill. Right towards doom, it seems like. "We were just...we were too different, dude."

"Oh, no fucking way!" Dustin roars.

Steve brings his right hand to his ear, tweaking it. "Lang"—

"Are you intentionally being stupid or something?" he asks rhetorically. Slamming out his hands when Steve begins to answer. "Don't—Just...where the hell did you get an idea like that, man? So you don't enjoy playing some D&D like Eddie does—who actually cares? I get it now, dude, not your thing. Not your ala mode, whatever. And you listen to more radio hit, poppy songs than he does. And maybe you don't read as many novels as he does"—

"Y'know, you're kinda proving the point"—

"Ah! No! Shut up, will you? Just fuckin' slam the breaks for a minute, 'cause I'm not done." Dustin tosses his hands back to his lap, slapping them down with firm smacks. He guffaws, stuttering over the same incomprehensible, unintelligible noises of disbelief. "You guys just got each other in a way that I haven't seen out of anybody in my entire life. It's like you guys have met before, but like...like lifetimes ago. Like you've lived somewhere in the universe simultaneously in alternate timelines over and over and over again. Some real sort of Twilight Zone kind of shit.

"Who cares if you guys have different tastes? We have different tastes, don't we? You like raucous comedy videos and I'm a big sci-fi fantasy nerd in ways you don't get—and that's fine! That's completely fine!

"If you were just like Eddie—or, to take it back to me—if you were just like me, you'd be so insanely boring. No offense, but you would be. God, our conversations would just run dry.

"Some of my favorite things I'd see between you and Eddie were these just purely, like, inquisitive conversations, y'know? Where Eddie'd be complaining about some far away Lord of the Rings lore bullshit and you'd be asking all the questions. Like...like that one time you asked why Bilbo and all the other dudes didn't just take the giant eagles to Mordor! What an entertaining conversation that was. But if you knew the answer already, then why would you ever want to have a conversation about something you already know? Why would you ever want to talk to Eddie about anything fantasy wise? You'd just bore each other out!

"Or...or the whole music taste thing, right? Metal stuff gives you migraines"—

"I mean...it doesn't always give me migraines...it just gets too loud and then"—

"Okay, so it's a trigger," Dustin says flippantly, tossing up his hand. "Got it. Yeah. But the thing is, Steve, that became an obvious thing of importance to Eddie. He played his music, but he played it quieter when you were around. And...and, yeah, okay, he didn't always enjoy the pop songs—the exact same way you didn't enjoy the way Iron Maiden sounded...again, that's okay!

"The fact that you guys were willing to indulge each other, though, that's pretty big. Eddie listened to what you had to say about your favorite Madonna song. He loves hearing you talk about your music, the same way your face visibly lights up when Eddie talks about his. He wants to know you.

"Eddie wants you to be different from him. He wants to know your perspective on things, don't you get it? He wants to have somebody that'll bounce right off of him and give him something to deeply think about. He needs a person who's going to shoot him down on his stupidest shit, but he needs a person who's also going to respect him.

"Just like you do," Dustin murmurs carefully. "You used to tell me that the key to getting a girl to like you is to act like you don't care. Or to be flippant. Or to just...just go along with it. Which, yeah, pretty stupid advice, if I'm being honest.

"Something, like, visibly shines from inside you when you find yourself caring. And I think what you've been looking for all these years is a person who is not you. Or, better yet, somebody who shows up for you—in ways, maybe, a person hasn't before.

"Eddie cares about you, Steve, in ways I've never seen him care about anybody. Especially somebody who aligns with all his Munson doctrine horseshit that he's been carrying around like a fucking cement block. You align with it, maybe, but the way you show up for him is important, too. You disprove everything he's previously believed about people like you. He needed that wake up call.

"And now that he's awake, man, I don't think he's gonna want to go back to sleep." The sign at the entrance of Forest Hills is a few feet ahead, right inside his peripheral. For some reason, Steve is slowing down instead of speeding up. And Dustin feels like he's giving a debate team speech—Jesus. "I don't think you should let go of this, Steve. This relationship is right. For him...for you.

"What's the real reason you guys broke up? And don't give me the bullshit of him being too different from you. That's not true and you know it."

They could just speed right into Forest Hills. He could be dropped off. The BMW could sputter dust right in his face and leave a trail as Steve speeds back down the road, away from the trailers and the chain fence and the orange couch on the Munson porch. Instead, though, he pulls off to the side of the road.

Steve parks. Rips his sunglasses right off his face. And—for the first time ever—Dustin sees tears pour right down Steve's cheeks. He doesn't even wipe them away, just rubs the snotty tip of his nose against his Members Only jacket, and sighs.

"When'd you start giving relationship advice?" Steve crackles like he's trying for a joke. He even huffs a senseless chuckle. Eyes still wet. Cheeks ruddy pink and white. "You're gonna hate me," he mutters.

Firmly, "No, I'm not, Steve. Just be honest with me."

"I was the one who broke up with Eddie, okay?"

Dustin blinks, cowed. "What? Why?"

Steve shrugs, this time helplessly. Aimlessly. Scared. "Thought that, um...um, that he'd see that I'm not the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Not that—I mean, we're barely in our twenties, y'know?

"And I know, okay, I know that I'm not everybody's favorite person. No matter how much of my ego tries to blow smoke up my own ass. He's just...Eddie's brilliant in ways I've never faced before—out of partners, at least. He's, uh, intelligent and so...so fucking funny and just overall a very beautiful person. Looks and smarts and whatever other shit spreads between all that.

"I'm just..."—Steve stops to take a heaving, stuttering deep breath—"...just sorta the placeholder, I guess? I feel like, one day, Eddie's going to see me for the person he didn't expect and he's going to realize how little of me he actually loves and cares for. And I just...I don't know, man. I don't know where I'm going with this! I know that I'm basically talking myself into and endless fucking spiral and that I broke up with him for a very, very stupid reason, but I...

"I'm scared he's going to stop loving me, Dustin." Steve looks him dead on now. Swollen eyes and puffy cheeks and quivering bottom lip. Broken and splintering all at the same time. "I thought"—another stuttering, nasally breath; it chokes out at the end, teetering on a sob—"I thought that if I broke things off, then he wouldn't have to waste his time with loving me, but also...also to stop loving me. Does that even make sense? I know I'm being fucking irrational. And—What I did was pointless and cruel and stupid of me, okay? It's stupid!

"Eddie's probably way worse off compared to me. And here I fucking am, sobbing in my car to some fifteen year old kid as if I'm not the literal monster in the scenario." Steve scoffs to himself, rolls his eyes, faces towards the windshield again. "And now Eddie probably actually fucking hates my guts. He's probably...probably grateful that I ended things and showed my true clashing colors. Proved him and his dumb fuckin' doctrine right. I'm an asshole. That's all I'll ever be. King fucking Steve, a walking, talking, gaping asshole." He sniffs, rubs his wet nose against his jacket again, and scoffs at himself once more in utter disgust. "I mean, like, who does this shit, right? Who looks at the person they love the most in the world and decides—oh, look at me and my big, stupid self imposed hate. Better break up with my doting, loving, patient partner to make things not as bad. Look at me, Mr. Righteous doing the selfless thing! Who am I kidding, though?

"I'm so fucking selfish. And the only person who's actually hurt is Eddie. And I didn't even get to tell him that I do love him. I do, I really, really love Eddie.

"Didn't even give our relationship enough time for us to say that to each other." He scrubs his hands over his face, squishing his eyeballs with audible, wet squelches. Steve sighs around a humorless laugh. "I have to apologize," he decides aloud—said so low, Dustin's not even sure if he was supposed to hear it. "But if I apologize and Eddie asks for the reason, then what? I gotta be honest, right? But then, what, make myself look like a victim? I broke my own stupid heart. Squished it under my shoe and everything." He shakes his head. Clicks his tongue. Chuckles dry again. "But Eddie likes honesty, I guess. So...so I guess I have to be. He's gonna be so mad at me, isn't he?"

Dustin blinks again. Takes a deep breath. Flounders for a beat, then two. "That's...I don't know, Steve," he speaks carefully, "I mean...dude, that was a lot to process? I think you should apologize, for sure. If Eddie asks for honesty, though...If Eddie asks for honesty, I think he deserves to hear the truth.

"He'll probably be a lot upset, I can't tell you that he won't be. But I think...I think if you consider the fact that this is Eddie we're talking about, then there's always going to be room for compassion, maybe even some forgiveness. Eddie can be an asshole, but he's not cruel. And he can be mad, but he's not going to stomp you our for having insecurities." Dustin swallows, it clicks against the back of his throat. Then, "That's what that whole thing was, by the way. A lot of insecurities that, I gotta be honest, Steve, that need to be mended, man. You're walking around with a lot of heavy baggage and I think it's time to let some of it go."

Steve nods, slowly wiping the tear tracks away from his face. "I know," he croaks. "I know, I just..."—again, helplessly, Steve shrugs—"...I didn't think I was this bad."

"You're not bad," Dustin remarks quietly. "You're not cruel and you're not an asshole. Steve, you just...you're a good person who happens to have been seriously hurt before. Of course you're going to be scared of being hurt again.

"Sometimes heart talks over logic. And that's what happened. You got scared, so you backed away the only way your heart told you to. The whole...the whole messy aftermath is logic finally catching up.

"It doesn't feel good, I bet. But it doesn't make you a bad person for realizing you've made a mistake."

"Pretty fucking explosive mistake, isn't it?"

Dustin sighs. "Yeah," he says, "yeah, pretty explosive. But that's okay, Steve. You realize that, right? It's okay that you said some things and now you're learning from them?

"It's just like when you made that joke to me about punching out my teeth, dude. And then you caught what you said. And you walked it back. And you apologized.

"You put your foot, like, pretty firmly in your mouth, sure. Doesn't mean you can't dislodge it or something, right? Everybody does something that they aren't proud of. And that something comes with consequences.

"You're going to be okay, dude. No matter what happens. Eddie may not immediately forgive you. And you guys probably won't go back to being as all over each other as you were before. But that's okay. Time heals all wounds or whatever bullshit that saying is." Steve laughs at that, finally humorous and loud. "Also, gotta say, it's kind of fucking crazy that I'm the voice of reason right now. You realize that, right? I'm fifteen and obnoxious and somehow, I'm giving you the best advice in the whole universe."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright. Don't go blowing smoke up your own ass, you butthead. But, uh...you're reasonable right now. So I guess I should listen to you."

"You guess? Just take the advice, you asshat! When we get to Eddie's, I want you to apologize to him and see what happens." When he doesn't get a response, Dustin sighs. "Seriously," he says, no longer teasing, "I'm going to go inside Eddie's and send him right out to you. You don't have to give, like, a perfect apology. But just be honest with him, alright? You'll be fine. And so will he. At least try to get some words out, okay?"

They finally turn down the Forest Hills drive. Park right outside of Eddie's. Steve turns to him. "Send him out," he says, "I'm sorry, in advance, if this takes a while."

"If you guys take the rest of the day, I won't be mad. You, uh, you guys are actually perfect for each other. I was being honest about that." Before anything else can be said, Dustin runs right up to Eddie's door, enters without a knock, and prepares himself to sit on the couch for a little while.

——— Steve's still drying off his face and rubbing the visible sheen from his eyes when Eddie approaches him. The two of them standing a couple feet apart at the BMW's front bumper.

"Dustin said we had to talk," Eddie says flatly instead of greeting. "Is it as important as he made it sound?"

"Um"—Steve nods, shakes his head, nods again—"I wanted...to...apologize. For breaking things off the way I did."

Eddie loudly scoffs and huffs. "Oh, so you're sorry for breaking my heart? Gee, thanks, Harrington. Like that's going to make it all better."

The drying his cheeks was a dumb thing to do in hindsight. Tears come back to his eyes tenfold. He can't bring himself to look up at Eddie, even though the heartbreak is clear in his voice.

"I don't know...I don't know what to say," Steve admits. "Guess I should just start with, um, the fact that I didn't actually want to break up with you?"

"God, you are terrible at apologies, you know that? Is that supposed to make me want you back or something? That you didn't want to break my heart, just testing the waters? See how far you could stretch my care for you until being able to just burn it up?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, I—I ran away, okay? That was me running. We...we were getting really deep into everything. And I scared, like, stupidly scared. Because you care about me now, sure, but what about a couple years from now when I'm too much again or maybe, like, too shallow or I'm full of shit or"—he sighs and slouches against the hood of his car, face pointed down at the dirt under his shoes—"Fuck if I know if we'd even survive a few years, y'know? Who says we would? It's not like my other relationships lasted that long."

Eddie audibly shifts, but Steve still doesn't look up. "So...so breaking up with me was the only option? What happened to talking to me when you get in your own head, Steve? One of the main things in a relationship is communication. I can't help you if I don't know what I'm supposed to help with."

"That's the thing!" Steve huffs out. "Okay? I don't know how to talk about it without sounding like a complete fucking baby or something, I don't know!

"You know how many other people have looked at me and decided that I'm just not worth the time? That my interests and my hobbies and my affection—all of it, just none of it mattered! And I—Eddie, oh my god, Eddie I'm so stupidly in love with you, you have to believe me. But it's...it's just a matter of time, right?

"It's a matter of time until you look at me for who I am. Like, really, really look at me for who I am and you realize that I'm not who you actually want. I'm not interesting enough. I'm not caring enough. I'm not doting enough. That I'm just not enough or something, I don't know.

"And like...like I'm so in it with you. I could picture myself just years down the road, you right by my side at the dinner table. With...with our tape collection mixed up and toppling over, the fridge stocked with our favorite drinks, mugs stained with each other's coffee mess. I could see myself dedicating all of my time to you. Bending my life in all sorts of ways to accommodate you in it, to make sure there's always somewhere for you to breathe, for you to just exist, for you to just...just be there in it with me.

"I wanted a whole life with you. I still want that whole life with you. And I...I'm so stupid about all this because it's so obvious that you care about me and that you want me, but for some reason I just led myself to believe that at some point, it would all go away. That, for some reason, you would just stop.

"And I didn't want you to stop wanting me. Because I don't want to stop wanting you. Because my bed is better with you. And my arms are meant for you and my whole—Everything! Everything I have is meant to be shared with you, just you, Eds.

"But you...you have so much ahead of you and I don't know...maybe I'm just not supposed to be in it? I feel like I'm picturing too much. Or maybe I'm just getting too ahead of myself. We were only eight months into it, but if I had the money, Eds, I'd get all the moments right to put myself on one knee. And that...that scares me, too. How much I want you." Steve tries for a deep breath, but this time—this time—it sputters out of him as a sob. A wet, scratchy, painful sob. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Eds. I'm so sorry that I couldn't see past myself. I'm so fucking sorry that I tanked everything because I can't seem to get over everything else. I'm sorry, Eds, I'm so"—

"Stop," Eddie chokes out. He sniffles. Steve finally looks up, blurred vision and all, to try and clue out what emotion is flickering over Eddie's face. No dice. "I need you to stop, Steve. Just...just give me a second."

So he does. He sits on the hood of his car, looking down at the dirt again, trying to reign himself back in. It doesn't work. But he does quiet down. Enough to hear the stuttering of Eddie's own breath, which he seems to be trying to get under control, too.

Finally, Eddie croaks, "I'm hurt."

"I'm"—

"No, Steve, stop. My turn to talk, okay?" He just nods at Eddie. Collecting himself again, Eddie takes a deep, steady breath. Softly, "I'm...I'm hurt that you think of me like that. Or that you led yourself to think that. Because it's just not true, Steve. Not at all. Y'know how bad it's been to not have you around me?

"It's been awful, Steve. I think about calling you at least twenty times a day. To tell you about the stupid mundane things I did. Like what I ate for breakfast or what show I caught late last night or the best pop song I heard in the day. Because I love talking to you.

"I love your warmth, how you press right up next to me. I love your snoring when we're napping. I love the way you ask so many questions, the way you make me stop and think, the way you want to know more, or even when you want to know less. I love the way you guide your fork to my lips when you want me to try something from the absolute mountain of food we're sharing. I love your hand in mine. I love just...

"Steve, I love you." He catches himself whimpering around a sob, but it goes unnoticed right now by Eddie. Who steps closer. So close, the toes of their shoes clunking against each other. Eddie reaches out his hands and holds Steve's head up, palms on either cheek. The both of them crying. "And you tried to tell me that we should see other people. Because we're different, but then also we're too young, but then also this and that—It hurt so bad, to watch you visibly shrink away, disappear right out of the room.

"And baby, oh, baby—I'm obtuse sometimes, but I'm not stupid and neither are you. You aren't. But everything you said carried itself as these big, flashing neon signs of I'm not okay, something's wrong. You tried to trick me against it, but I could tell you were talking yourself into dumb, dumb circles.

"Do you not trust me?" Eddie asks carefully, "is that what happened? Did I do something to make you think that I was going to stop loving you?"

Steve shakes his head however much he can. Tries to swallow his tears, but to no avail. His words come out half-garbled. "No, I'm sorry."

Eddie tsks. "Stop apologizing," he whispers, "I want you to be honest with me, okay? Is there something I did?"

"No," he murmurs, "I just got too caught up."

"Too caught up in love?"

Steve shrugs. "In myself. Like...like maybe I was too many steps ahead. It felt like, sometimes, that maybe—But that's not fair to you because I just am hopeless, y'know. That's not on you. I don't know why I got so in my head."

"What's not fair to me, Steve? Please just tell me," Eddie presses.

Bursting, "It just felt like maybe you weren't on the same level or step as me, okay? Like I was letting myself get too ahead, too involved, too head first. And that's when I get to be too much. And that's when my partner usually pulls away. And I act like I'm blindsided, but it happens every time, Eddie!" Steve huffs, tries to shrug away, but Eddie only holds on tighter. "I just...I just didn't know, okay? I didn't know that you actually loved me. Which is stupid of me to think because, like, it was always so clear, now that I'm thinking about it. You care for me in ways nobody has. And even Dustin fucking saw it!

"I don't even know what I'm trying to say! That's how dumb this whole breakup thing was on my end. I don't have a real reason, okay? I just got too ahead of myself, I guess. And at the same time, I guess I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it does. It drops at some point."

Eddie tenderly wipes at Steve's cheeks. Drying his tears. Steve feels bad about it, that he hasn't even tried to reach out and do the same. But, selfish as it is, he soaks it all up anyway.

It may be the last time he gets it.

"Steve," Eddie whispers—even his voice is tender—"I have to be honest, it makes me sad to hear that you think of yourself...of our relationship like that. But I promise you that the other shoe was never going to drop."

"Eds, how am I supposed to believe that? Be real with me."

Eddie firmly grabs Steve's face. Holds them steady. "Look at me." He does. "I am so deeply, incredibly, and passionately in love with you. And I was a fool to not tell you before, but that's not your fault. We're both young and scared and want a lot, we both let that get in the way of things. And we didn't talk like this. But. Keep looking at me." Steve sniffs, but, again, he does what he's told. "I love you, Steve."

Steve sniffles again, tries to blink the tears out of his eyes—and he's crying all over again. "I love you, too, Eds," he mutters, nearly inaudible.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Hm?"

Whispering again, "I love you a crazy lot. I love you, I love you, I love you." Eddie gives him a small smile. "We were missing that, huh? You just needed to hear that."

"Eds," he sighs. Shakes his head to try and dislodge the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I am."

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, "I know, sweetheart. And...and I forgive you, even if maybe I'm jumping the gun on that. But I know I'm going to forgive you eventually. I love you too much to let you go."

"You should take your time"—

"I am in love with you. And I accept all ten trillion of your apologies that you're trying to queue up, okay? We are both damaged goods, in a lot—and I mean a lot—of ways. It doesn't feel right to me to put us in a place where we're walking on eggshells, waiting.

"I forgive you. And I love you. So endlessly." Eddie swipes his hands over either side of Steve's head, brushing hair behind his ears. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I didn't make it clear how deep in this I am with you. In case it's still not clear, if you propose to me tomorrow, I'm going to say yes."

Steve chuckles. "That's ridiculous."

"The right kind of ridiculous for us, though." Brushing through Steve's hair again, Eddie sighs. "I wish you would've told me how you were feeling, though," he whispers, "that way we could've avoided any sort of mess."

"I'll get better at talking," Steve swears. "I'm bad at it. I don't want to be bad at it. Not with you."

"We'll both get better at it, how about that?" Eddie smiles small again, tenderly caressing Steve's head. He leans it, slow and careful, and plants a gentle kiss against Steve's lips. "You're too important to just let go. I love you from here to our neighboring galaxy and back."

"I love you, too, Eds. God, I love you so much. That feels incredible to say."

Eddie pecks him again. Murmuring against Steve's lips, "Do you wanna come in and watch a movie with Dustin and I? I want your questions and commentary."

"That's gonna be annoying, though."

"Come inside and be annoying, then. I've got your Pringles in the snack cupboard and your root beer on standby. Some cuddles and kisses in there, too."

Steve smiles, can feel the way it crinkles the tip of his nose. As if he can't resist, Eddie smacks another kiss, yet to Steve's nose this time. "I'll give you all the makeup cuddles in the world, Eds. Hold my hand the entire time, though?"

"And let 'em get all sweaty and gross? Hell yeah, baby. All the hand holding for you."

They've got a little ways to go, more potholes to pave, but it feels better to do it side by side, thigh warm against thigh, every question answered, and both hands held.

💕—————💕

[achingly-tired]

au where steve/eddie/robin are hanging out at eddie’s and out of the blue robin asks the room “how long is your ideal hug?”

and with zero hesitation steve replies “at least 45 minutes. probably a good hour or two if i could swing it”

eddie and robin blink.

robin: …i don’t think that’s very realistic, dingus

steve, still reading his magazine and not at all paying attention to the way robin and eddie are Looking at him: *scoffs bitchily* you said ideal, rob, not realistic

and this is where steve will swear that robin and eddie have developed their own psychic link because the next thing he knows, eddie is yanking steve down so he’s laying on top of eddie on the couch and robin is laying down on top of him and: “guys what the fUck”

robin and eddie, in unison: steve sandwich

steve, softly but with feeling: what the fuck

eddie: let us give you your ideal hug, okay sweetheart?

steve, dying inside but also fucking Living: …okay c:

.

.

.

(originally posted on bluesky here)

[achingly-tired]

Modern AU where the party have a famous paranormal investigation and unsolved mysteries youtube channel. Steve is in the background of their first ghost hunting video because he wasn't going to let them go and stay overnight in an abandoned building without supervision. Their audience finds Steve's sarcastic comments and parental attitude towards the kids really compelling and most of the comments on that video are begging for him to become a regular in their on location videos. Before long, Steve is a reoccurring presence in their videos playing the skeptic/concerned parent role.

For example:

Dustin: I’ve connected the dots guys. This must be the work of a demon.

Steve: You didn’t connect shit. It's just an old creaky building.

Dustin: I’ve connected them.

—————————————

In an abandoned hospital.

Max: Hey this giant metal door has some kind of engraving on it.

Lucas: Oh cool, it looks like old graffiti.

Steve: Yeah that’s great, do you know what else it looks like? Rusty as shit. Now get back here and don’t touch anything because your parents are gonna be so pissed if they find out you had to get tetanus shots at 2am on a Saturday because I let you wander around an abandoned hospital with a bunch of shady ass camera men. No offense.

Camera man: None taken.

Mike (from the doorway): Guys! Will, El and Dustin found an operating theatre and there are a bunch of old scalpels and needles and stuff in there.

Max: Awesome, let’s go.

Steve: No! No! Let’s not go! Let’s stay as far away as possible from the room full of potential infections. Where are Dustin, El and Will? They didn’t go inside the room, did they?

Mike: See, I could answer that, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.

—————————————

While exploring a ‘haunted’ hotel:

Mike: Hey look, all of Steve’s bitches are in this room.

El: There is nobody in there.

Mike: Exactly.

He turns to look directly into the camera with a sly grin and the others start laughing.

Steve: Yeah, yeah. You’ll be laughing when I drive home without you.

—————————————

At the same hotel.

Steve: Dustin. Your little light box thing is broken, it’s been flashing on and off for the past five minutes.

Dustin: Oh my God, Steve! That means it can sense a spirit. Why didn’t you say anything?! Did you not listen to my long and detailed explanation of how the equipment works?

Steve: I’m gonna be so honest with you. No, I didn’t.

—————————————

On their Mothman episode trip to point pleasant.

Steve, staring at the statue (we all know which one): Ok, but why is he kinda…

Lucas: Please stop talking.

Dustin: No sexualising the cryptids please, Steve.

Steve: If they didn’t want anyone to sexualise Mothman, then why would they give his statue such a defined ass and abs?

Max: I mean, he’s not wrong.

—————————————

Eventually, Steve gets peer pressured by the comments into starting his own channel. And since he still has no idea what he wants to do with his life, he decides to go ahead and do it.

At first his audience are super confused because his content is a hard pivot from the supernatural and unsolved mysteries content people are used to seeing him in. He mainly reacts to DIY haircare videos and gives tips on how to do what the people in the videos were trying to do properly without risking ending up bald.

He also makes wholesome baking videos, and has a side podcast with Robin, where they talk shit for 3 hours about anything they want - usually celebrities and assholes on the internet - as well as having a segment where Robin makes Steve watch a movie he's never seen and they review it. People who came from the paranormal channel still love his content because he’s funny and sassy and his videos are surprisingly helpful at times. He’s soon catching up to his friends in subscriber numbers.

Eddie and his band have a channel where they upload music videos, live performances and backstage/tour vlogs. They also make the occassional song covers where they take requests in the comments for metal versions of pop songs. Eddie also has a side channel where he runs D&D campaigns with other influencers (he hates that word).

One day he’s doing a Q&A and when someone asks which influencers he’d like to invite for his next campaign, he mentions Steve and says he’s been secretly watching his videos for a while and they’re kind of a guilty pleasure. He’s even tried some of Steve’s hair care tips because his hair was looking a bit frazzled under the heat of the lights on stage and it was getting in his way during performances. Now he swears by them because his hair has never looked or felt better.

Steve’s never seen any of Eddie’s videos but he starts watching them after that, he particularly likes the metal versions of pop songs because it makes the genre more accessible to him. Sometimes he makes joke song suggestions in the comments. Every single time, the song he suggested gets covered.

The boys are all insanely jealous of this new development because they’ve been fans of Eddie’s channels for years and have been bringing up references to some of his campaigns in their videos to try and get him to consider them for the next one, but so far have had no luck. Meanwhile, Steve, who doesn’t even know the first thing about D&D has his full attention. Steve was going to ask Eddie to consider asking them out of the kindness of his heart, but after they’ve given him a little too much attitude over it, he decides he’s gonna join the campaign instead just to spite them.

Cue Steve going from completely clueless to kind of a decent player and the two of them going from fascinated with each other to constantly flirting and appearing in each other’s videos.

[achingly-tired]

Alpha Robin & Omega Steve still encounter the same problem as in canon of ppl deciding they must b together & to combat these assumptions they decide one of them has to get a partner except Robin decides quickly it shouldn't b her, so tht leads to some pointless flirting from steve the rest of the summer till the younger party r in high school & suddenly Eddie Munson is around more & Steve always exchanges a friendly nod or word when he occasionally (always) picks up Dustin from Hellfire nights

& Eddie is goofy & his laugh is loud but it's so genuine & his eyes r so dark & omg Robin the things I could do to fix his hair, Steve laments almost every shift

Blah blah blah

Robin gets to observe steddie interact & sees tht Eddie is just as gone for her dingus & somehow overhears Eddie talking abt having a crush on Steve but not being a home wrecker so Robin decides to nip tht in the bud & approaches Eddie at his picnic table instead of going to her Trigonometry class

Eddie is worried he's abt to know the fury of a band geek till Robin is glaring him down & telling him tht Steve is important to her BUT IN A PLATONIC SIBLING WAY tht Steve is very much single BUT DONT THINK U CAN JUST ASSUME ANYTHING no Eddie must impress Robin w written up plans for 5 first dates tht he will take Steve on & she wants a full itinerary for each date too. Only then will she put in a good word for him to Steve

Eddie does this & more

Something something something

Steve gets to give chrissy the same task when buckingham r flirting bc my Robin deserves to b wooed Cunningham come on

hehe Stobin are actually a dating nightmare

[achingly-tired]

through the gaps

ao3 Written for @steddie-spooktober Summerween prompt, “pines,” 504 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, season 4, the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, (a hint of) Steve Harrington Backstory

Eddie’s trailing behind. Steve can hear it, the way his feet drag against the ground. He’s been tapping on his water bottle ever since they left Skull Rock, alternating between his nails and rings striking the metal, clink-clink-clink.

Steve gradually slows his step to match Eddie’s, glances over like a thought’s just occurred to him.

“Hey, dude, can I have some water?”

The tapping stops.

“Y-yeah, sure.”

Eddie hands the bottle over, blinking a few times.

Good, Steve thinks. Keep him distracted; keep him here.

He takes a sip of water—a tiny one, really, but just enough to sell the illusion that he needed the bottle in the first place. When he passes it back to Eddie, he almost expects to be caught out—the weight of the bottle has hardly changed—but Eddie’s eyes have gone distant again.

Three jerky taps in quick succession.

“Is this, uh,” Eddie clears his throat, his voice quiet, strained, “safe? Like, I keep thinking we’re—” He gestures uneasily at their surroundings, “—that someone’s gonna come bursting through the trees and get us.”

“Nah, we’re good,” Steve says lightly, “no-one comes out here.”

For a little while, there’s silence, broken only slightly: the muted snap of branches underfoot; Eddie’s tapping. Occasional vague words Steve can’t quite catch—Dustin, Lucas and Max in a trio up ahead, Robin and Nancy right alongside them.

“No-one?” Eddie says suddenly.

The word is brittle. Steve can hear the fear in it, the embarrassment.

“I swear.” He looks Eddie in the eye. “Trust me.”

Eddie nods. The tapping slows.

Steve’s glad for it, because he doesn’t think he could’ve stumbled through a more thorough reassurance. He could’ve said that Skull Rock’s reputation as a make out spot has dwindled away to nothing—folks avoiding the woods ever since November ‘83, a town superstition that stuck, grew roots. But then he’d have to get into why he knows that: the late night drives when he can’t sleep; the endless walks, never meeting a soul.

He looks over again. There’s something flickering in Eddie’s eyes, past horror draining the light out of them. Steve can almost see it in his pupils, like negative film: the murky depths of Lover’s Lake.

“You ever climb trees, Munson?”

Eddie frowns, like he’s replaying the question in his head to make sure he didn’t mishear.

“Um, yeah? Not, like, recently.” A pause. “You?”

“Obviously.” Steve nods at the trees they’re walking past, towering white pines. “Climbed those when I was six. Piece of cake.”

Eddie laughs—a startled sound, as if he’s surprised that he’s still capable of it. “Oh, I’m sure.” He grins. It’s crooked; real.

Found you, Steve thinks.

“You don’t believe me?” he says with the bravado of an old sailor whose tales have been doubted. “I’ve climbed ‘em plenty of times.”

Eddie keeps smiling. “Guess you better regale me.”

Dappled sunlight lands on his face through the gaps in the trees, and Steve wants to believe that’ll always be true; that light will always find its way back to them.

[achingly-tired]

Steve's bi-realisation coming from watching gangly limbed Eddie Munson running track for PE credit and those Hawkins High Shorts ™️ showing off so so much leg.

And he's so pale and littered with tattoos. And the second Eddie finishes his last lap he dramatically falls on his ass, sitting with his legs splayed on the brick red track.

And in Steve's head the exact words "those legs are like a spilled notebook of crude doodles and glorious art" followed immediately by "am I writing fucking mind poetry about Munson's white boy legs? fuck am I gay?".

He will learn about bisexuality in 14-22 months and a lot of things will click into place.

[achingly-tired]

A! Eddie has been courting O!Steve for a few weeks now and it’s going really well. Steve seems to love all his courting gifts and gestures so Eddies shocked when one day he sees a gift from another Alpha in the Harrington house. If he’d known that he was competing with an Alpha, clearly above his tax bracket, he’d have tried to give Steve more just handmade gifts. He started to rethink all of his gestures wondering if the sweet omega just accepted them so as not to hurt his feelings. He decided he needed to go all out in EVERY category to really showcase himself as the ultimate mate for Steve not realizing he really doesn’t have to worry. Steve was head over heels for Eddie it’s just his parents trying to push an Alpha from a “respectable family” onto him. To appease his parents he displays the gifts in the most obvious locations in the house, but after a few days throws them away. His parents are too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice and by then there’s a new gift anyway. He hadn’t told Eddie because he didn’t think it was a big deal. He thought the Alpha knew he had Steve’s heart so there was no use explaining. Besides it’s his Alpha that needs to explain why he’s acting more peculiar than normal.

[achingly-tired]

Eddie can't believe he's seeing Steve Harrington in a gay bar of all the places. Sure, he heard rumors about a certain jock becoming friends with the band geek Robin Buckley (whom he already clocked as a friend of Dorothy), but he didn't expect it to be true.

Here in the safe space for queer people in Indianapolis, Steve is sitting by the bar—wearing his little pink crop top and skin tight Levi's—and laughing heartily at something Buckley is saying. And Eddie wants.

Anyway, this is his chance. Years of ogling watching Steve finally pays off now. As smoothly as possible, he slides into the stool beside Steve, catches his attention, and starts whispering to him. It's not a conversation intended for impressionable ears, after all.

"I happen to know the best places to hide bodies."

Steve blinks owlishly at him, caught off guard that Eddie knows about his secret.

"What?"

"Don't worry, princess." Eddie grabs Steve's hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, making him blush prettily. "Your secrets will forever be safe with me. I'm just here to let you know that you're not alone."

"... Who are you again?"

Steve looks cute when he's baffled, so Eddie can't be blamed for responding him with a wink.

"The name is Eddie. But you can also call me Daddy."

Steve rolls his eyes, huffing.

"You're so weird, man."

In the end, Eddie successfully introduced himself to his crush and went home with Steve's phone number safely tucked in his pocket. Before he left, however, he heard Buckley hiss something to Steve that almost sounded like:

"Girl, stop. That weirdo is not your Prince Charming."

"Well," Steve said. "I could be Juliet."

And the hopeless romantic in Eddie's heart swooned.

[achingly-tired]

Steve spends a summer with his grandparents, learns how to knit and gets addicted to it.

He starts off small, knitting socks and scarves he then gives to all his friends. The socks are a little lumpy and the scarves way longer, or shorter, than they should be, but Steve looks so proud of them no one has the heart to say anything. They all wear their gifts anyways because Steve is so happy when he sees it.

But then he gets good. Like, really good. The socks and scarves are soft to the touch and keep the Party warm even on the coldest days of winter.

Steve knits a red beanie for Robin, because she keeps complaining about how numb her ears get when she has to walk all the way to Family Video on the days Steve is not working. He also knits a purple one for Erica when she accuses Steve of playing favorites with Robin, then a yellow one for Max and an orange one for El.

When he learns how to knit sweaters, Steve spends hours on end working until he makes at least one piece to give as a Christmas gift to each of his friends. Dustin and Eddie get two sweaters each, because they are his favorites and Steve is not ashamed to admit that.

[achingly-tired]

Eddie walks into his house after a three-day work trip in NYC to find…..a lot of boxes.

Most of them cardboard, most of them labeled DONATE or TRASH or GARAGE in Steve’s familiar handwriting.

“Oh, jeez,” Eddie mutters, because he knows what this is. Sure enough, he follows a trail of boxes upstairs to find the rest of his family in his youngest daughter Hazel’s room.

“Spring cleaning?” Eddie asks.

“Spring cleaning,” Moe says with an affirmative nod.

“Just Hazel’s room?” he asks, because Moe and Robbie are looking awfully comfortable sitting on Hazel’s bed while Hazel herself is rummaging through a back corner of her jam-packed closet, Steve watching over her shoulder with his hands on his hips.

“Uh, well, Moe ‘doesn’t do clutter’,” Steve says as he looks over at Eddie, “and therefore is exempt, apparently, and Robbie’s room gives me a migraine.”

“Plus,” Moe cuts in, “Robbie’s room is all clutter. If we get rid of it all, she'd have no personality left.”

“Hey,” Robbie says, jabbing her elbow into Moe's side, “Don’t be rude.”

Steve gives Eddie a do you see what I’m dealing with kind of look as Hazel finally emerges from her closet. 

“Dad, do you want this?” Hazel asks, holding out a very small, dog-shaped notebook with a comically large spiral binding that she probably acquired when she was in elementary school, “For writing or whatever?”

“Uh…”

“Just say yes so I can move some shit out of here,” Steve mutters, so Eddie takes the notebook from Hazel, and as soon as she was turning back to her closet, Steve took it from him and tossed it into the ‘Donate’ box in the hallway.

A moment later, Hazel emerged again, turning around to show everyone two plastic lawn flamingos (mismatched, Eddie notes).

“Thoughts?” she asked.

“Hon, those don’t even match,” Steve says (and he sounds all beleaguered and everything as if all this wasn’t his crusade to begin with), “They’re two totally different shades of pink.”

“Well, did you know that they’re actually white when they’re born? And then they eat mostly shrimp and that’s how they turn pink.”

Steve just stares at her for a moment, “Okay, Haze, those are plastic.”

“You should keep those,” Moe said, “Genuinely they’re, like, decor. You can put them somewhere.”

They spend a few minutes watching Hazel precariously balance the flamingos’ spindly legs on top of her bookshelf, but it doesn't take long for something else to catch Steve's eye.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, jutting his chin in the direction of something on an open shelf of Hazel’s dresser.

Hazel fetches a plastic Starbucks cup with a dozen or so dusty rocks inside.

“They’re rocks,” Hazel points out, “From when we went to the Grand Canyon.”

“Okay…” Steve says slowly, “Do they have to be in your sock drawer?”

“Why don’t you put them on your windowsill?” Robbie suggests, “You can charge the rocks, like, spiritually.”

“Oh yeah, there’s an idea,” Steve comments, but Hazel is already halfway to the window. Still, she pauses, and then turns back to face them.

“Do you think they miss their home?” she asks.

“What?” Steve looks at her.

“In the Grand Canyon?”

“Oh, Hazel,” Steve sighs.

“We could try to ship them back,” Moe suggests.

“None of you are helping.”

[achingly-tired]

Here’s the thing about natural—or unnatural, as it were—disasters.

Regular social norms go right out the fucking window.

In Tommy’s case, all it took was to see one news report, highlighting the burning husk of Starcourt, for him to turn to his girlfriend and ask “Do you think…?”

He didn’t bother to finish his sentence.

Didn’t need too—Carol immediately and instantly knew what he was on about.

They were in Tommy’s house, but that didn’t matter. Carol went right for the phone like she owned it (or like she’d been practically raised in said house given she’d known Tommy since he was seven, which meant she might as well own it.)

“He’s not answering.” She reported after a tense moment,

Tommy bit his lip.

“Think he’s still messing around with Wheeler enough to be at her house right now?” He asked, but it was a hail mary and they both knew it.

Carol rewarded his stupidity with a flat stare. “He’s not dating anyone right now, he’s person non grata with that hideous uniform.”

And for other reasons, not that either of them bothered to voice it all.

Tommy opened his mouth again, no doubt to ask something else idiotic in his growing panic, but was stopped by a finger held loftily in the air.

Carol expertly dialed with her other hand, before once again returning the phone to her ear.

This time she got someone.

“Hi Miss Maple, is Mindy home?” 

A pause, and then a rapid-fire back and forth took place, in which Carol:

Assured Miss Maple she was not at the mall.

Was happy to know Mindy was also not at the mall.

Made an appropriate gasping noise upon finding out Mindy had left only an hour before the mall had caught fire and could she talk to Mindy? Pretty please? This is so scary!

--Until Carol was finally connected to Mindy herself.

“No, I'm glad you’re safe.” Carol was saying, after another exchange that to Tommy, felt like some kind of over-complicated girl language where they both made soft reassuring noises until they finally got down to business.

Which in this case, was asking if Mindy saw Steve Harrington, their wayward third, at the mall.

“He was there.” Carol confirmed a scant few minutes later, frown slashing across her face as she hung up the phone. “She said he had the closing shift.” 

Tommy panicked harder. 

“What do we do?”

Carol, bless her, gave him the easiest answer in the world. 

With steel in her eyes, she calmly determined: “We go get him.”

They did.

xXx

Steve was not at the mall. 

One of his obnoxious children was however, and insisted Steve was both fine and had gone home. 

(As if anyone was ever fine after escaping out of a burning building.) 

Lucky for Carol’s temper and Steve both, that proved to be true. 

 “Hello Steven.” Carol greeted the second one of the Harrington’s double doors swung open. “You look like shit.” 

“‘Ro?” Steve asked in blatantly disbelief, squinting at her. 

Give how fucked up one of his eyes was, Carol wouldn’t be surprised if he honestly could’t make her out. 

Steve’s messed up face moved to the left with another blatant squint before he warbled out: “‘Tommy?” 

“Yes, yes, it’s us. Move over.” She flicked her hands into a “shoo” gesture, as Steve dutifully stepped back, allowing them in. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, somehow managing to sound normal for that one singular line. 

Carol beelined right for the cabinet with the medkit, while Tommy went for the fridge. 

“Taking care of you, idiot. How the hell did you get a black eye in a mall fire?” 

Or choke marks, or any of his other wounds she’d taken in at first glance, none of which looked to be a burn. 

It took a long, long moment for her to get an answer, during which Steve had trailed them both to his kitchen, confused but not fighting their presence.  

“Part of the building collapsed. I--there was--” He struggled for a moment, looking lost in his own kitchen. “A lot happened.” 

“No shit.” Tommy snorted, wrapping a  hand towel around an ice pack before dutifully handing it to Steve. 

“Put that on your eye.” He muttered, when all he got was a blank stare back. 

“Oh.” Steve stared at him, without moving. “Thanks.” 

With another loud snort, Tommy shoved it in his hands, then forced Steve to actually put it against his eye. 

An interaction that did not bode well for the state of Steve’s head. 

“Take that disgusting shirt off.” Carol commanded a few seconds later as she finished laying out medical supplies on the counter. Lined them up like little soldiers gearing up to ship out. 

Bandages, neosporin, alcohol wipes and various other little bits and bobs weren’t going to fix whatever the hell happened to Steve, but given his aversion to hospitals, Carol knew this was as good as she was getting. 

“Buy me dinner first, jeez.” Steve grumbled, but thankfully, complied. 

Or tried too, anyway--he seemed to be reluctant to take the ice pack off his eye now that he figured out that's where it should go, and equally seemed to be having issues raising his arms above his shoulders. 

Carol sent a pointed look at her boyfriend, then jerked her eyes in Steve’s direction when the idiot just stared at her. 

“Let me help you.” Tommy said a moment later, right before Carol decided to throw something at him. 

It took them both a minute, during which Carol rolled her eyes twice at their incompetence, but eventually they managed to get Steve’s busted torso out in open air, and the ice pack firmly back on his eye. 

Carol turned to survey the damage, and nearly dropped the bandages she was holding in shock. 

Tommy too seemed at a loss for words, eyes wide at the sheer amount of bruising. 

Steve was a mess.

More than, a mess--this was the worst state Carol had ever seen anyone in, and the fact that he was on his feet still was a fucking miracle. 

‘Staring won’t fix it.’ Carol told herself harshly, and she knew damn well Steve wasn’t going to fix it either unless someone forced him. 

Hence of course, why they were there. 

“Steven Harrington, did you run from the paramedics?” She demanded, as she finally picked her first weapon (a disinfectant wipe) and strode over to begin her battle. “There is no way they let you go looking like this!”

“They had other priorities.” Steve said defensively, then hissed as Carol got to work. 

“You should have been one of said priorities, idiot!” 

Tommy thankfully, had decided to make himself useful by retreating to the other side of the kitchen and pulling various items out of the fridge and pantry. 

Inbetween her runs for more supplies and hissing insults at how fucking stupid Steve was, Carol identified the makings of grilled cheese sandwiches--their little groups go to favorite. 

Which was good, because it both got him out of the way and meant they could get something in Steve’s stomach before she forced every pain pill she had down his throat. 

“I’m fine guys, really.” Steve protested, as if constantly repeating it would somehow make his words true. 

Carol stared deep into his watery eyes, before jabbing a finger into the center of the largest bruise on his side. 

“Carol!” He howled, bending double and away, panting harshly. 

“That,” She informed him with a pitiless stare, “was for lying.” 

Thankfully the damage wasn’t as bad as she first thought--it seemed to be mostly just bruises. 

Possibly a cracked rib or two, at worst. 

The worst of it was Steve’s eye, and of course, his head, because there was no way he didn’t have a concussion amongst all this. 

(Only time would tell how bad it was.) 

When Steve was as doctored up as Carol could make him, she promptly turned and frog marched him to his parents' overstuffed couch.

“Sit and stay sitting, while I clean up.” She ordered, not waiting to see if Steve would obey. 

She passed Tommy on her way back to the kitchen, a plate piled high with food in his hands. 

“Make sure he takes at least a few bites.” She added, low enough so only he heard. 

He nodded, and for the first time since the three of them had fallen out, Carol felt something in her finally relax. 

Figured it was likely the same for the boys, given their dynamic had always been something one step away from a normal friendship. 

(it wasn’t the relationship her mother had once accused her of having, though granted, they had tested those waters once, but something that sat in between ‘family’ and ‘mutual ownership.’ 

Losing Steve had carved something hollow in her and Tommy both. She’d put on a good show of not caring. Pretended it hadn’t cut deep. 

Getting even a taste of it like she was? 

Carol wasn’t letting him go again.) 

Cleaning up took a minute, long enough hopefully, for the pain meds to kick in, and she didn’t feel too guilty when she came back into the living room and collapsed on the couch, next to Steve (and thus putting him in the middle, between herself and Tommy.) 

He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned into her the second she sat down, like he’d been waiting for her to return. There was a pause, like he was bracing to be pushed off, but when she scooted closer, the tension left him in a silent exhale. 

“I missed you.” He whined softly into her shoulder.

She ran her nails through his hair, silently bemoaning the state of it. “We missed you too, Stevie.”

“I want to be friends again but,” Steve sighed, and Carol watched Tommy tense, staring at Steve with such intensity one would think Steve was about to announce whether Tommy would live or die.

(Honestly, her boys were so stupid sometimes.)

“We can't be mean anymore.” Steve finished. “Not me—but also not, not you guys.”

With an (unfortunately) adorable wrinkle of his nose, he added, “We were too mean.”

Carol rolled her eyes, but only when she was certain Steve was paying more attention to her sweater than her face.

“Compromise. I’ll only be openly mean to people who deserve it.” She countered, as Tommy finally relaxed.

“I can be nicer.” He agreed, slowly sinking down into Steve’s other side.

“Way less mean. No--no more pranks or insults.” Steve continued.

Carol nodded. “Not in public.” She agreed. 

She was not giving up her own personality in private, thank you very much. If that made her an asshole that was fine--it wasn’t like she hadn't been told she was nasty before this. 

“And I’m friends with Robin now. So you hav’ to be friends with her too.” 

“Buckley?” Carol made another face, and knew she fucked up when Steve instantly tried to sit up.

“Robin Buckley. She’s really cool, and--” He started, with that kind of stubbornness Carol knew all too well meant he’d made up his mind and would refuse to change it.

“Fine, fine!” She said quickly, though not without an eye roll. “You have got to stop adopting weirdos though. The kids are enough.”

Steve slowly laid back down. 

“You know about the kids?” 

“Steve Harrington, town babysitter?” Tommy said, something teasing threading through his voice. “Everybody knows, man. You give so many rides home your beamer has gained several bus themed nicknames.” 

“Huh. I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Carol snorted, before laying her cheek atop Steve’s head. Tommy cuddled up close to his other side, the same way they all used to before their parents started insisting their cuddle piles were “inappropriate.”  

(That hadn’t stopped them. Nothing had stopped them, until Steve had a crisis of consciousness while dating Wheeler. 

It was only half the reason Carol wanted to put her head through a wall.) 

“That’s what you have me for.” She informed him. 

“Yeah.” Carol could feel Steve’s smile, gentle and radiant as always. “Guess I do.”

A nice, perfect moment followed, the one she knew both her and Tommy had been craving. 

Steve, of course, was a creature who required constant reassurance because his awful, neglecting parents never provided any, and she was prepared when he fought against both his pain and sleep to seek it. 

“You guys promise to be nice to Robin? And Nancy, and Jonathan?” He asked it quietly, like he wasn’t sure what they'd do if they said no. 

“Oh God,” Tommy moaned, “I have to be nice to Byers?” 

 Steve stiffened once again, snapping out; “Yes--” 

“We promise, Steve.” Carol interrupted before Tommy’s giant fat mouth could ruin things.  

She moved a hand down to rub gently at his neck, a soothing gesture. 

Tommy, of course, wasn’t done, because Tommy was a moron. “Wasn’t he the guy Wheeler cheated on you with?” 

“We said we promise.” Carol repeated, steel in her voice. 

Tommy met her eyes over Steve’s head, and was greeted with the steel core of his girlfriend’s ‘do as I say or die’ personality. 

“Fine.” Tommy conceded with a pout. “I’ll be nice to fucking Byers.”

 In a mutter he added;  

“Not happy about it though.”

“That’s okay.” Steve mumbled back, seeming to have finally tired himself out. 

“Go to sleep, Steve. We’ll be here in the morning.” Carol told him.

It was a longstanding fear of Steve’s--that people just left in the night without saying goodbye. 

(Likely because his parents kept doing it.)

It didn’t take long, Steve was the kind of guy who fell asleep quickly. 

It was a nice mend to the hole Steve’s departure in her life had made. Carol hadn’t truly been looking forward to living her life without him. 

She’d get him back however she could.

Even if it meant being nice. 

(Carol hated being nice, but she’d do it, for Steve. 

Well. Less for Steve and more to complete the Tommy-Steve-Carol super trio that Carol had lived most of her life in, at least, but she wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud.

Not now, anyway.) 

xXx

Close to a year later, Carol stood with her arms crossed, staring coolly at one Edward Munson, drug dealer extraordinaire and former (even if he was cleared) criminal. 

He grinned at her, the jerk.

With a supernatural slowness, she turned her gaze to Steve.

“I swear to God Steve you better housebreak him before you bring him anywhere near me.” She said, loud and clear.

Hadn’t she warned him about adopting more weirdos!?

Steve winced. 

“Come on ‘Ro, you promised not to be mean.” He wheedled. 

“I promised to not be mean to people who didn’t deserve it.” She shot back, as Tommy, wisely, stayed silent behind her.

(Robin, she noted, was equally quiet on Steve’s other side.

Normally this would raise alarms—Robin was quick to defend people if she thought Carol was being shitty and as a general rule was never quiet, but it would appear in this case she’d already clocked where Carol was taking this.

Smart girl.)

“Eddie doesn’t deserve—” Steve started but she cut him off with a blue tipped nail, shoved right against his lips.

“Not yet he doesn’t. But Munson,” She leveled her glare on him now, and let him feel the weight of it. “If Steve so much as says your name in a sad tone of voice, I will make your life into the kind of hell that Jason Carver can only dream of. Understand?”  

Behind her, Tommy cracked his knuckles, which was overkill and she’d get on his ass later for being dramatic, but presently she was too busy letting Munson figure out just how serious she was. 

Eddie’s gaze traveled from Carol, to Tommy, Robin, Steve and finally back to Carol in an assessment she frankly, hadn’t thought him capable of. 

She pushed him anyway. 

“I’m waiting, Munson.” 

In a somber tone of voice, Eddie replied; “It’s gotten. Very, very gotten.” 

“Okay, I’m lost.” Steve said, because, as always, he was the last person to know he was in love.

Moron. 

“Good. As long as we understand each other. Now.” Carol tossed her hair back with a quick snap of her hand. “Milkshakes?” 

“Robin--” Steve whined, no doubt wanting her to spell things out since Carol was refusing, but thankfully Buckley also seemed to realize staying quiet was the best course of action, and instead of answering quickly got Steve off track with a jab at his milkshake order. 

Which was of course, why Carol liked her.

(She wasn’t about to share that with Robin just yet. Integrating someone into a trio like theirs was delicate business—and she had a sinking feeling Robin might be sticking around, just like Steve and Tommy had.

As for Eddie Munson? 

Only time would tell.)

[achingly-tired]

Steddie where Steve and Eddie are childhood friends because Wayne used to work for the Harringtons and the two boys end up growing up together.

It’s all good and well whilst they are kids. Steve’s parents don’t mind their friendship because they are sure the boys will eventually grow apart as time passes and their different upbringings become more obvious.

The problem is that their friendship just gets stronger with time and, by the time they’re in High School they’re inseparable and Steve’s crush on Eddie is so embarrassingly obvious anyone with eyes can see it.

The Harringtons are not happy when they realize their son is getting way too close to the Munson kid, and things get ugly when Richard Harrington is made aware that most of Hawkins believe Wayne’s nephew is queer.

They send Steve away. Send him to a boarding school in New Jersey, where Richard’s mother lives, and don’t even give him a chance to say goodbye to anyone.

Their efforts are useless, though.

Steve finds a way to keep in touch with Eddie by sneaking out of school to send him letters. The school eventually finds out Steve is sneaking out and contacts his grandmother, his closest family, to let her know what’s happening.

When she asks Steve about it, he tells her everything. He tells her his parents sent him away because they found out he had feelings for another boy and people around town were saying shit behind his back, that his father didn’t let him say goodbye to any of his friends and that he’s lying to everybody that Steve got a scholarship in some fancy school.

“Dear Lord, I knew Richard was a dumbass, but I had no idea how much.”

And that’s how Steve ends up getting his grandmother’s help and they come up with a whole plan so he can keep sending his letters to Eddie without his father knowing.

By the time Steve graduates, he and Eddie are happily dating. They elope as soon as both of them are free from High School, and only Wayne and Steve’s grandmother get the courtesy of knowing their whereabouts.

[achingly-tired]

This is a sequel to this post.

Still thinking about single dad Eddie and little Corey.

Thinking about how Corey, once he’s discharged from the hospital, would look for excuses to go back and see Steve.

He’d scrape his knees falling from his bike just to go back home yelling, “Dad, we need to go to the hospital! I’m bleeding!!”

And Eddie would rush towards his son, thinking the worst must have happened, and find Corey looking at him expectantly, showing his scraped knees. There’s barely any blood coming out of them.

“Sorry kid, I’m not paying over a hundred bucks for someone to spray antiseptic and put a couple of band-aids over that.”

And Corey would get all moody and annoyed because he was hurt and when you’re hurt you have to go to the hospital so you can get better, but his dad was not taking him seriously and he wouldn’t be able to see Steve because of that.

Then one day Corey falls from the jungle gym at school and breaks his arm. The school calls Eddie as soon as the nurse there checks on the boy’s injury and realizes he’s gonna need a cast.

Eddie leaves work in mild panic, picks Corey up and goes straight to the hospital. It breaks Eddie’s heart how his son is in so much pain he’s not even making any noise. He’s just holding his arm against his chest with his good hand and biting hard on his lip, the tears silently rolling down his red cheeks.

They get to the hospital in record time and, even panicked as he is, Eddie manages to fill all the forms the woman on the front desk hands him. They lead Corey and Eddie to a separate room and ask them to wait for the nurse to come and see them.

Corey is still crying quietly, holding his arm and not looking at Eddie at all and Eddie wants to scream in frustration. It’s not fair his son has to endure this much pain, what kind of parent is he if he can’t even protect his own son?

Eddie is spiraling down that chain of thought when the door opens and Steve’s suddenly right there.

“Corey, my man, what are you doing here?” the nurse asks softly.

And Corey just breaks when he hears Steve’s voice. His lower lip trembles for a second, then he’s wailing, sobs so loud Eddie can’t even understand what his son is trying to say.

“What is it, buddy? Talk to me.”

“It-it hu-urts,” the boy sobs, finally letting go of his arm and trusting Steve to make it better. “I fe-ell and no-ow it hu-urts.”

With all the care in the world, Steve touches the boy’s wrist to assess the injury. That done, he pulls a tissue from his scrubs’ pocket and gently wipes the tears from Corey’s face.

“I’m gonna help you, sweetheart, I promise. It’s gonna be alright.”

Corey’s eyes are still bright with tears, but he still nods and sits there quietly while Steve works on his arm.

And it’s right there, as he watches the nurse take care of his kid with such gentleness, that Eddie decides he’s gonna marry Steve someday. He just needs to find a way to ask the man out first.

[achingly-tired]

Steve being the worst patient possible whenever he’s sick.

He’s so used to taking care of everyone that he seems incapable of understanding that, sometimes, he’s gonna be the one needing to be taken care of. This drives Eddie absolutely insane.

Eddie comes back from work, expecting to see Steve sleeping off the fever he had woken up with that morning, just to find his husband up and scrubbing the bathroom tiles with a fucking toothbrush.

“The hell are you doing? Go back to bed!!”

“There’s mold here, Eddie. Mold!”