beeehiives

[beeehiives]

reblog for something t4t to happen to you this summer.

[beeehiives]

Give me Baker!Steve who wakes up at four and gets into the bakery at five to start preparing ingredients and heating up the equipment.

Give me Bartender!Eddie who's getting off work around the same time, who always stops by the shop to bother (read: flirt with) the hunky baker man and snag some left over pastries from the previous day.

Steve always complains, but leaves the shop door unlocked anyway. Eddie's always a little ruffled from his long shift, and the way he leans into Steve's space from tiredness always makes him shiver.

After months of this, Eddie doesn't come into the shop one morning.

Steve finds the shop this early too quiet, missing Eddie's warm voice and comforting presence.

After getting the first batch into the oven, he heads next door, where he finds Eddie fast asleep on one of the stools, head resting against the bar. It's empty except for the two of them.

"Eds," Steve taps his shoulder gently. "Don't you have to close up?"

Eddie opens his eyes slowly, winces in pain at the ache in his shoulders from sleeping in such an awkward position.

"I usually don't fall asleep," Eddie says, locking eyes with Steve. He looks bashful. "It's only an hour."

"Huh?" Steve drops his hand from Eddie's shoulder, but stays close. He can smell the alcohol on him from a long night of serving drinks, can see the bags underneath his eyes and the gentle smile that tugs at his lips.

Steve thinks he's beautiful.

"Bar closes at four. I usually just finish cleaning and hang out til five." Eddie brushes a stray bit of flour from Steve's cheek.

"Why don't you ever just go home? You must be tired," Steve says slyly. He's grinning, slowly moving closer into Eddie's space.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to talk to you," Eddie whispers, putting a hand on Steve's waist. "Highlight of my night."

Steve reaches behind him to pick up a napkin and pen, and jots his number down. He leans forward, placing one hand on Eddie's shoulder and the other places the napkin in the front pocket of Eddie's shirt.

"I get off at twelve today," Steve says. "Go to sleep. Come talk to me when it's light out."

Steve leans forward and brushes a light kiss on Eddie's cheek, before ducking out of the bar to continue his baking, leaving Eddie breathless and more awake than he's ever felt in his life.

( ノ・・)ノ========================== ~( ˘▾˘~)

[beeehiives]

sorry I always felt undesirable my entire life and it gave me kinks of wanting someone to desire me so extremely it's uncontrollable for them as if that's my fault

[beeehiives]

take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness, recovering from the upside down ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he���s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[beeehiives]

And They Were Roommates (´◡`)

Steve Harrington, who, after all the events with his friends dying and the Upside Down and the Russians and Vecna, finally decides he needs to get the hell out of Hawkins.

He wants to spread his wings, find a place where he can make a fresh start without the memories of this place hanging over his head.

Eddie Munson, who, despite his name being "cleared" by the government and the local police, has a shit reputation and a healthy hatred for small town malice.

He can't wait to get away, to a place where nobody knows his name and he can live without the constant threat on his life and psyche -- hopefully somewhere where he can find a community of people like himself.

One night while he's tired and a little hopeless, Steve offhandedly mentions his frustrations with finding enough money working at Family Video to move out of Indiana.

Eddie fully sits up. He's been saving up since he got his first stash to deal, and every time he makes a long weekend trip out to Indianapolis, he picks up a copy of the New York Times to thumb through the apartment listings.

"It was more like wishful thinking," Eddie says, eyes wild and full of promise. "Let's do it, Stevie. You and me."

Steve's been looking for the first chance possible, and with Eddie's charm, how could he refuse?

Robin prods at him, teasing that it'll be torture for Steve, who is definitely not developing a crush.

So, they stay for three more months, saving every penny possible and spending every minute they can with the kids, their friends and Wayne. They promise to call all the time, and Steve sternly tells Will that they expect to see him at NYU as soon as he graduates.

When the leaves green and the weather warms, Steve and Eddie pack all their shit into Eddie's van and leave at the break of dawn for New York City, everyone waving them off. Eddie's eyes get a little glassy, but Steve puts a warm hand on his shoulder and he's excited for the future all over again.

It's an eleven hour drive, but the two have grown so used to each other's presence that it flies by. They take turns driving, and whoever isn't driving gets to play the tapes they brought.

Eddie feigns disgust when Steve puts on Tears For Fears, but smiles to himself when Head Over Heels plays.

With the savings they have and the call they'd placed to the agent before leaving Hawkins, they sign a lease on a tiny apartment in uptown Manhattan.

They walk around, exploring the neighborhood and pointing out landmarks.

"We've got to eat breakfast there. Like, all the time. God, those pancakes smell great." (Eddie.)

"Does that convenience store have a cat in the window?" (Steve.)

They eat their takeout dinner on the floor of their new apartment, sitting closer than strictly necessary in the completely empty space. Their keys are between them, and they can't stop smiling.

The next day, they go out in search of jobs. Eddie finds work at a mechanic's shop in their neighborhood, Wayne having taught him his way around a car. He'll come home greasy and sweaty, but he'll also be coming home to Steve, so he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

Steve gets a job waiting tables at a diner in Hell's Kitchen, meaning he'll have to get up early, but that also means he gets to see Eddie's wild bedhead mane before he's taken a shower that morning, so he can manage.

They come back to each other at the end of their days, sharing the household chores and each other's time.

They miss the people back home, but they're also falling into the rhythm of a future they can't wait to see.

Part 2? ヽ(•‿•)ノ You said getting together part 2?

As always, feel free to submit a fic request via my profile :3

[beeehiives]

Eddie chronically leaves his rings at Steve’s place to the point that Steve checks the bathroom and kitchen sink every time after he leaves, only to find one of them there every time.

Not that Steve is entirely complaining since this means he gets to call him and Eddie gets to stop by on his own to pick them up.

But when they’re at the Wheeler’s place, and Eddie says he’s going to the bathroom, Steve says, “Be careful not to leave one of your rings behind,” with a wink that has the kids exchanging confused looks. But Steve doesn’t notice because he’s too distracted by the light blush coloring Eddie’s cheeks.

“Why would Eddie leave one of his rings behind?” Dustin asks Steve when Eddie’s out of earshot.

Steve laughs. “He leaves one behind every time he washes his hands I swear. I don’t know how he hasn’t lost one at this point.” But his amusement is quick to die down when he realizes the kids are staring at him as if he’s absolutely insane. “What?”

They all glance at each other, and Steve is surprised when Mike is the first to pipe in, “He never leaves them anywhere. They’re like his prized possession. I’ve never even seen him take them off.”

Steve frowns and glances around at everyone, sensing that there’s definitely something he’s missing, so he’s quick to lie, “Well, I guess it was only once or twice that it happened. Maybe it was my fancy soap. Made things too… slippery.”

He gets a few eye rolls at the comment, but the group is quick to move on especially when Eddie comes back a few moments later with all his rings on his hands.

Steve gives him a quick smile, and Eddie is quick to return it, eyes lingering on him for a few seconds longer than necessary and the same blush from earlier returning.

It hits Steve very suddenly.

The rings are an excuse to come back.

And with this knowledge, Steve’s let’s his own gaze linger on Eddie longer than he usually allows, moving into his space more often than not, and carefully keeping track of time, waiting for the hang out to end.

When it finally comes to a halt, Steve is quick to say his goodbyes, hoping that Eddie will join and let the kids have their unnecessarily prolonged goodbyes in private. And luckily, Eddie is quick to move out of the basement, following after Steve in a way that’s supposed to look causal but is anything but casual now that Steve knows to look for the signs.

When he and Eddie silently go out the front door, Steve is quick to turn to him and hold out his hand. Eddie gives him a confused look but offers his hand which Steve takes and slides one of the rings off of.

Eddie stares at it for a moment, looking slightly frightened, as if he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

Steve is quick to soothe the fear as he pockets the ring and says, “Just so you’ll have an excuse to stop by later tonight.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush bright red and he runs a hand over his face. “Shit.”

Steve laughs, “So it has been on purpose?”

“No,” Eddie clearly lies, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face.

“And what if I told you I wanted it to be on purpose?” Steve asks.

Eddie freezes for a moment as if he’s waiting for Steve to tell him that he’s joking, but Steve sits in the silence, letting the question settle between them.

“Then,” Eddie starts, taking a small step forward into Steve’s space, “I would-”

The door behind them bursts open and Dustin yells, “Hurry up I have a curfew!” as he races off to Steve’s car.

Steve rolls his eyes at the kid and takes a step back as everyone else makes their way out the door to the cars or their bikes.

Steve and Eddie linger behind for a moment, which Steve uses to quietly ask, “I’ll see you tonight?”

Eddie gives him a bashful smile in return and nods. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”

Steve resists the urge to celebrate in any way in front of the kids and instead puts his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around Eddie’s ring.

As he gets into his car, ignoring Dustin bitching and complaining, he slips the ring over his finger and smiles at it.

He notices the car go quiet and he nearly groans at his mistake.

“Is that Eddie’s ring?” Dustin screeches.

It’s going to be a long drive home, but Steve doesn’t mind when he has Eddie to look forward to.

[beeehiives]

listen ... speaking as someone who's had mid-length, thick hair before: when you have that level of volume in your day-to-day, it looks crazy in the morning.

So, I'm thinking of Eddie sleeping over for the first time at his new boyfriend's house, and waking up to Steve "The Hair" Harrington's insane bedhead.

Steve's all embarrassed, because he usually spruces it up or takes a shower, at least, before going out with people.

Eddie doesn't mind, though, because he thinks Steve looks adorable and handsome no matter what -- hair sticking up all over the place or not.

And, if it means they can shower together before going to pick the kids up for school, then Eddie's not complaining.

[beeehiives]

this is amazing!!! the attention to detail is so awesome!! do you mind if authors use this as reference in their fics??

The Munson trailer, more screen-accurate this time! My first attempt over a year ago

★Eddie's Bedroom

★My Masterlist

[beeehiives]

steddie authors and steddie artists should kiss and see what happens

[beeehiives]

Eddie who does all the promo work for Corroded Coffin making DIY patches for the band to give out at shows.

We know from the costume designer interview video that he can work on his own clothes, like sewing his battle jacket and making his belt buckle.

The patches are pretty basic, just the logo painted onto some black fabric, but he gives them out to anyone who will take them.

He makes a special one for Steve, with an early version of the logo and the names of the band members written around it.

Steve sews it onto the pocket of his jeans, giving Eddie a heart attack the first time he sees it but also making him laugh because of how out of place it looks.

Steve who becomes a staple at Corroded Coffin shows, adjusting Eddie's jacket backstage and wishing the band luck before joining the crowd so he can cheer them on.

At the start of every show, Eddie always finds him in the audience, giving him a wild grin, totally in his element, and declaring "this first song is dedicated to a special someone in the crowd."

Steve looks totally out of place, all polo shirts and blue jeans, but as Corroded Coffin's career starts to take off, he becomes a bit of a mini-celebrity himself.

Fans notice he goes backstage immediately after the show ends, and he's spotted in paparazzi photos constantly, landing him first page on tabloids alongside Eddie.

But most of all he can be spotted by the rare band patch he has, the only one of its kind, still there on his blue jeans.

[beeehiives]

Scars

Healing together, bandage changing, and boys kissing

Steve stays with Eddie in the hospital, after everything. He watches him breathe under the sterile, too-bright lights of the room, and reminds himself that he's alive.

His own wounds are light in comparison, his neck taking a few raspy days to heal up and his bat bites lightening to pinkish healing tissue in no time.

It takes Eddie two excruciating days to wake up, and when he does he's all groggy and confused.

He lays a hand over the extensive bandages covering his torso and croaks out a weary "made it, huh?"

Even with bleary eyes, messy hair, and furrowed brows, Steve still thinks Eddie looks beautiful. He holds his tongue.

It's only after Eddie's released from the hospital under strict guidelines not to bother his healing wounds that Steve realizes how deep his damage goes.

Steve volunteers to help Eddie around the house - his shifts at Family Video have been put on pause as the whole town repairs itself from the "earthquake" a few weeks ago - and Eddie still needs help with activities that require lifting his arms; getting dishes down from the cabinet, changing his shirt, even laundry.

Steve catches glimpses of it in Eddie's cagey behavior. He makes him close his eyes when he changes Eddie out of his shirt, only letting him look when he's cozy in his pajamas.

He'll refuse completely when Steve offers to help him wash his hair or face, changing the topic as quick as he can.

It comes to a head when the doctor starts letting Eddie change his own bandages at home if needed - his healing is coming along steadily and Eddie keeps complaining about making the trip out just to get poked and prodded at.

Still, he's supposed to have help. The bandages go all the way around his torso, and Eddie's still not supposed to be twisting around.

Eddie tells Steve that Wayne always helps him out with the bandages, so no need for him to worry. He tells Wayne that Steve's been doing it.

One night, Wayne's at work and Steve's at the new Munson Residence (thanks, government hush money), working on cleaning that night's dinner dishes.

Eddie darts by him, having grabbed fresh bandages from the hallway closet and making his way to the bathroom.

"Whoa, dude, you changing those?" Steve stops washing the bowl in his hand. "Shouldn't you wait for Wayne?"

"I'm not--It's fine, really." Eddie says quickly. Steve puts the bowl down and faces Eddie, drying his hands.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be doing that by yourself."

"It's not that big of a--"

"Eddie," Steve says, firm. "Let me help you. You could seriously hurt yourself."

Let me help you. Let me take care of you.

Eddie looks stuck between a rock and a hard place. He's gone too long without changing them, since the last time he did it he got lightheaded and had to sit on the floor of the bathroom, hunched over in pain with tears stinging his eyes.

"Fine," It's barely a whisper.

They awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom, Steve rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and Eddie fiddling with his rings.

"Okay," Steve says. "I don't mind looking away to help you change. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But I've gotta look to do your bandages. How does Wayne usually do it?"

Eddie shifts uncomfortably. He's not sure what to do with his hands.

"I don't--He doesn't, really." Eddie says quietly. "I don't want him--anyone to see. What I look like."

Steve's heart sinks. He feels guilty for not realizing how this was affecting Eddie sooner. He wants to reach out, to take the feeling away. He tries for words.

"I've got some too." Steve reaches for the hem of his sweater. He lifts it enough to show the remains of his bat scars, still healing but well on their way to becoming scars.

"Oh, and--" Steve continues, parting his hair on the left side of his head to reveal a thin, white scar. "That one's from a plate to the head. Fun times."

Lastly, he moves the neck of his sweater over to reveal a circular, purple scar just below his collarbone. It's old, clearly. The wound looked like it had been deep.

"There was a thing that happened at the mall, before it, uh, burned down These guys were interrogating me, and I wasn't giving them anything, so, you know," Steve makes a vague gesture. "Knife time, I guess."

"Can I touch?" Eddie whispers. He's been silent this whole time, staring at Steve like he's seeing him for the first time.

Steve nods, moves to take off his shirt, and lets Eddie feel his way around his scars. He closes his eyes when Eddie gently runs his fingers through his hair to inspect the scar Billy had given him.

Eddie's hands drop to his stomach, gently tracing over the bat bites, moving their way up until Eddie closes his palm over the scar near Steve's collarbone, causing him to shudder.

"I just--nothing could make me think, could make me see you as anything other than--beautiful," Steve breathes. "I want you to know that."

Eddie nods. His gaze is unreadable. He holds his palm over Steve's chest for a few seconds before stepping back.

"Could you take this off?" Eddie gestures to his own shirt. Steve nods, grabbing it by the hem and closing his eyes before lifting it.

Once it's off, Steve puts it on the countertop, keeping his eyes shut. He feels a gentle hand on his face.

"You can look." Eddie says. Steve opens his eyes to see Eddie's eyes, lovely and wide, staring up at him with trust.

"May I?" Steve asks, reaching for Eddie's bandages. He nods. Gingerly, Steve removes the layers of wrapping from Eddie's torso. Eddie has moved to steady himself on Steve's shoulder.

Once they're off, Steve makes eye contact with Eddie again, checking in.

"Doing okay?" At Eddie's nod, Steve takes the new bandages and wraps them around, having to step closer to fasten them behind Eddie's back.

All finished, Steve starts to move back. He's stopped by Eddie's hands on his waist.

"Thank you," Eddie whispers. He's leaning closer. "Hurts much less with you doing it."

"I'm glad." Steve manages. His gaze is glued to Eddie's lips. His heart is pounding.

Eddie's the one that crosses the boundary, kissing Steve with gentle fervor, hands wrapping around Steve's waist.

Steve breathes out like he's been suffocating, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie's jaw.

Between tongues and panting breaths and beating hearts, Eddie breaks away for a few seconds to manage: "Do it for me every time?"

Eddie heals a little smoother after that.

-+-

Smooch smooch thank you for reading, as always feel free to submit a fic/ficlet request via my bio (•‿•)

[beeehiives]

Steddie Nicknames ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀

What nicknames/petnames would Steve and Eddie give each other?

You’ll have to hear me out on this one, but I think Steve is a pretty basic guy. “Babe,” “baby,” is pretty much what he’s used to. Anything other than that and you were bound to earn a weird look from whatever girl you were out with.

Eddie, however, has an overactive imagination and less of a social filter. He just likes seeing Steve blush.  Angel, pretty boy, beau, lover boy. He even sneaks in a cowboy in there somewhere, and Steve isn’t sure whether to laugh or rip his shirt off.

Eventually, Steve adapts and grows more comfortable. He’ll only experiment when it’s just him and Eddie, alone in Steve’s room, late at night, never having been someone for massive public displays of affection. Darling, my love, beautiful. He whispers them into Eddie’s mouth, trying to infuse the depth of his feelings into the words.

Once Steve is more comfortable being outward about their relationship, Eddie takes to teasing him by calling him the most over-the-top, corny names he can manage. Snookums, honey bear, sweet cheeks, are among the pile. All of them make the kids groan and throw things at Eddie, but he’s too busy cracking up at Steve’s beet red face.

One night, everyone’s over at Steve’s house for a movie night. The kids are in one big pile on the floor in front of the TV, insisting Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and his friend Argyle take the big couch. Steve and Eddie are left on the big armchair in the corner of the room.

They’re leaned back in it, Steve close to nodding off in Eddie’s arms. He doesn’t want to move, but his bladder wins out and he gently moves Steve over so he can make a quick trip to the bathroom. As he’s walking out of the living room, he hears Steve’s groggy voice.

“Wh’re you going, honey?” Steve’s poking his head up, bleary eyes tracking Eddie’s movement toward the hallway. Silence falls over the captive crowd, and Eddie’s cheeks heat up, despite himself.

An echoing “gross, guys!” from Max breaks the tension and the group dissolves into laughter before continuing to watch the movie. When he returns, Eddie tucks an arm around Steve, pressing the back of his palm to Steve’s flushed face.

“Honey, huh?” he teases. 

“Shut up,” Steve manages, sheepish grin blinding Eddie with love.

[beeehiives]

this is my favorite art ever in the history of ever

He is half of my soul, as the poets say✨🌿

Im sharing a few more pieces of art I haven’t shared here from earlier this year, but if you wanna see more of my stuff you can find me on

IG: @lilustrate

And twitter @lilustrate_

[beeehiives]

four times eddie gets carried and one time he does the carrying

one

Eddie opens his eyes to chaos: a heartbeat under his ear that’s furious, a voice echoing just above him yelling profanities and directions, hands digging into his legs and side that should probably hurt.

But nothing hurts.

He can’t feel anything, actually.

Which is probably a good thing considering the last time his eyes were open, he was dying.

Maybe he is dead. Maybe this is Hell.

But he catches a somewhat familiar scent, and he turns his head towards the solid but soft wall holding him.

He must make a noise because the voice vibrating against his face stops, the movement under him stops, and a different panic ensues. He’s not sure what’s being said now, too focused on the comfort he’s feeling.

Maybe it’s not Hell. Maybe he’s found his way to Heaven.

But that’s Steve’s smell and Steve isn’t dead. Is he?

Eddie’s eyes open and he finds just enough energy to make a small noise, one that wouldn’t have been heard in the chaos, but definitely gets heard in the silence surrounding him now. He hates silence. He hopes if he’s dead, he can at least hear some music sometimes.

“Eddie?”

It’s definitely Steve’s voice, and Steve’s smell, and probably Steve’s strength holding him up.

“You don’t have to talk if it hurts, but can you tap my chest if you can hear me?”

Eddie could do that. He could.

His hand was already brushing against Steve’s chest as they walked, so he lifted a few fingers and brushed them against the material of Steve’s shirt.

“That’s good!” Steve sounded pretty thrilled about such a simple touch.

Eddie was familiar with being touch starved, but he didn’t think Steve could be this bad off with all the times he’s been practically glued to Robin.

“St-“ he tried to say his name, maybe get some answers for why he was being carried, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“It’s okay. I’m getting you safe. We can fix it,” Steve was walking still, but no other voices could be heard anymore. It was like the world had narrowed down to only them. “I promise I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mkay.”

Blackness clouded Eddie’s vision again as he lost consciousness.

two

Eddie’s physical therapy sessions in the hospital sucked, but the ones at home sucked worse.

At least at the hospital, no one was around to watch him struggle and fail except the physical therapist. At home, Steve was watching and making sure he did everything right, never more than a few feet away in case he needed help.

Eddie could walk with support, but he refused to use the stupid walker the hospital gave him. Wayne found a cane in his room from when he hurt his back a few years ago and told Eddie he could decorate it however he wanted if it meant he’d use it.

And he sure did.

He covered it in black paint, stickers, and had all the kids paint their names on it.

But he still hated using it.

So he was focusing on the walking movements the PT gave him, and Steve was constantly hovering beside him, waiting for any sign that he needed to stop.

“Your legs are shaking, Eds. We should stop for today,” Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, careful not to put any weight on him. “You can do more tomorrow.”

“No, I’m almost to the couch.”

The silence was loud as he looked ahead at where the couch actually was. He wasn’t almost there. He wouldn’t make it.

But he was stubborn, dangerously so, and he was gonna make it.

He took another two shuffling steps, then felt a shooting pain in his side and nearly collapsed.

Steve’s arms were under him immediately, lifting under his legs and supporting his back in a fucking bridal carry.

“Put me down!” Eddie squirmed, but Steve was strong. “I was almost there!”

“No you weren’t and you were gonna push yourself too hard. You would’ve fallen and got hurt and if you get hurt again, it’ll be my fault.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut before his argument could be said.

Did Steve think he was actually responsible for Eddie?

“Stevie, it’s carpet. I would’ve been fine,” Eddie said quietly as Steve walked them over to the couch. He didn’t set Eddie down though, just held him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not letting anything happen to you again.” Steve set him down gently on the couch, making sure his legs were stretched out so he could do some of his sitting movements. “I’m not letting you down again.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t let me down,” Eddie stayed frozen where Steve had set him down, unable to even breathe properly.

“I should’ve been there so you didn’t run back to distract the bats. You never should’ve almost died.”

“Steve…” Eddie reached a hand out, tugging on Steve’s hand until he was sitting on the coffee table across from him. “None of this is your fault. I’m an adult. I made my choices. I would’ve made them even if you were there.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Eddie smiled at him, ignoring another sharp pain in his hip. “You know how stubborn I am. Do you really think you had a shot in hell of stopping me once I decided to be a distraction?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then stop blaming yourself. You saved my fuckin’ life, man. You stayed by my side nearly every day since then. You couldn’t let me down if you tried, okay?”

“Okay.”

three

He’d fallen asleep on the couch, he knew he had.

But he was currently in Steve’s bed. Which is upstairs. He hasn’t mastered walking up stairs yet.

How the fuck did he get here?

It was dark except for a hint of moonlight streaming between the curtains and a glow under the door from the hall light that was always on.

He turned on his side and nearly screamed when he saw a black outline of someone else in the bed.

The body moved and Eddie could just make out the hair.

Steve.

He was in Steve’s bed with Steve.

“You okay?” Steve’s raspy sleep voice startled him, his heart rate climbing to probably dangerous levels.

A hand reached out and touched Eddie’s chest, right over his racing heart. Steve’s hand was warm and wasn’t moving away.

“Mhm. How’d I get here?”

“Carried you.”

He couldn’t see if Steve’s eyes were open, or if he was even properly facing Eddie, but he was grateful for the dark hiding his blush.

“I could’ve stayed on the couch.”

“Wanted you here,” Steve mumbled against his pillow, his hand bunching up Eddie’s shirt as he pulled him closer. “Sleep.”

Eddie could think about it tomorrow. Or maybe never.

Maybe this was a dream, or maybe Steve was still asleep and had no idea what he was doing or saying. Maybe he’d wake up and Steve would be gone and he’d never know for sure if he dreamt it or it was real.

But for now, Eddie fell asleep with Steve’s hand against his chest and his body heat keeping him warm.

four

“I don’t know why you picked a spot so far into the woods. Are you trying to murder me? You were just being nice for the last three months because it would be easier to trick me?” Eddie paused to catch his breath. He was admittedly very out of shape, but this trek seemed particularly difficult.

“Are you in actual pain or are you just tired?” Steve asked, not slowing down at all.

“Can’t it be both?”

Steve finally stopped and turned to Eddie, the worried set of his brow almost making Eddie feel guilty.

“We can go back, Eddie,” Steve offered quietly.

Eddie saw the disappointment on his face, though. And he was a little sore, but mostly from being tired, not from actually overexerting his muscles.

“No, I can make it. How much longer?”

Steve looked around for a moment. “Less than half a mile, but most of it is uphill.”

“I’ll just take it slow. Sorry,” Eddie apologized.

“Hey,” Steve was suddenly back in front of him, hands on his arms to stop him, to comfort him. “We can go as slow as you need. We’ve got all day. Need any help?”

Eddie didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He was doing a lot better than he expected, truthfully.

But if it kept Steve’s hands on him, he was obviously going to say yes.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him over a particularly large log.

They continued in silence, but Steve’s arm never left his waist, and Eddie’s breath never quite went back to normal.

When they were almost at Steve’s destination, Eddie lost his footing and nearly face planted into the wet soil. But Steve tugged him back just in time, until his back was flush against Steve’s front.

“Let me help,” Steve said against his ear.

His hands went under him, lifting him up in the familiar bridal carry that seemed like second nature for them at this point.

Steve held him close, made sure he had a good grip, then started walking forward.

“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie barely whispered. He felt a bit ashamed, that he couldn’t do something so simple, that Steve felt like he had to help, that he was a nuisance.

“I want to.”

Neither of them spoke again until they reached their destination.

Steve didn’t put him down at first, walking over to a clearing that looked out over the lake.

Eddie had no idea this was even accessible to people, had only ever noticed the cliff from the edges of the lake and assumed it was just untouched wooded area.

“This is a nice view,” Eddie said as he looked around. He could see a lot of the outskirts of town, even some of the surrounding areas that were mostly untouched by the events of spring break. “Can already see some stars.”

The sun was still up, but it was near dusk. The walk back would be dark if they didn’t leave soon.

“Yeah,” Steve finally set him down on his feet, but didn’t put any space between them. “Wanted you to see it.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s hands fiddled with his sweater, a nervous habit that he noticed back when he was still in the hospital. He’d never mentioned it, wasn’t even sure Steve knew he was doing it, but he always offered his ring-covered hand as a replacement.

Maybe it was a little selfish, but Steve never seemed to mind.

As soon as Eddie slipped his hand closer to Steve, he started toying with his mood ring, a gift from Dustin when he got out of the hospital so they could tell how he was before asking. It didn’t actually work, but they all thought it was fun.

“You come out here often?”

Steve shrugged. “Not as much since Vecna. Don’t really like being alone anymore.”

“Yeah. I know what ya mean.”

They stood there in silence again, looking up at the stars and out at the vastness of rural Indiana. Steve moved on to fidgeting with another ring, spinning it and twisting it every way possible.

“Wayne asked when you’d wanna move back in with him. Said he’s settled in the new trailer and can get your room set up whenever you’re ready,” Steve finally said.

Eddie turned to look at him, noting the shakiness in his voice. He was biting his lip so much, it was a miracle he wasn’t bleeding.

Something was off.

He’d been staying with Steve because it was easy, it was best for everyone to have easy access to a bedroom and bathroom while he healed, and Steve was the only one with parents who weren’t around. Wayne was stuck in the second floor of a motel, which wasn’t ideal for Eddie at all. But now he had a new place, and Eddie could handle stairs now, and it just made sense to go home.

So why did it feel like he’d be leaving his home if he went back to Wayne?

“Do you want me to go?” Eddie asked, bracing for the ‘yes’ he was certain was coming.

“No.”

Eddie pulled back in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no, I don’t want you to go,” Steve grabbed his hand again, tracing along the outside of his rings, making goosebumps pop up on Eddie’s arms. “I want you to stay. But I know you love Wayne and probably miss him. You should go if you want to.”

Eddie fishmouthed for a moment, unsure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew he should probably think about this without Steve in front of him.

“And if I don’t wanna go?”

Steve searched his face for any hint of a lie, but Eddie knew he wouldn’t find one. He wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay with Steve.

“Then you should stay,” Steve choked out, almost in as much shock as Eddie had been only a moment ago. “Stay. Please.”

“In the guest room?” Eddie pushed. He shouldn’t push, but he had to know if this was Steve acting out of fear of being alone or if Steve was feeling the same about Eddie as Eddie was about Steve.

“I was thinking you could stay in my room. My bed.”

Eddie smirked. Steve was a charmer, no doubt about that, but he was clearly nervous, in uncharted territory.

He leaned in, watched Steve’s eyes widen in surprise at the shift in control of the conversation.

“And if I get sharing bed privileges, does that mean I also get kissing privileges?”

Steve nodded, eyes still wide, still shocked speechless.

“Could I start that privilege now?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Eddie had never enjoyed a privilege quite as much as this one.

+ one

“You said the front step was fixed!” Eddie screeched as they stood outside their new home. “Look at it. It’s depressed.”

Steve snorted. “It’s just a little…crooked.”

“It’s barely even attached anymore.”

Steve nudged his shoulder and held out the key. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, no. We had an agreement, didn’t we?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I’ve been training for this moment for over a year!”

“Throwing me around on the bed is not ‘training’, baby,” Steve smiled. “But if you really wanna do this, I’ll unlock the door.”

Eddie grinned and leaned over to pick Steve up into a bridal carry.

Steve yelped when he almost immediately dropped him, his hand fisting in Eddie’s shirt to try to keep from falling.

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” Eddie said, tightening his hold on his legs and shifting him up so that his face was level with Eddie’s. “You know what’s nice about living in the middle of nowhere?”

“What?” Steve breathed out, eyes darting down to Eddie’s lips.

“I can kiss you right here in the open and no one’s around to see it.”

“Then do it,” Steve challenged.

Eddie was always up for the challenge.

He kissed him, smiling into it as he realized this was their whole future. This house, this life, it was theirs.

Eddie carefully stepped up onto the porch, avoiding the worst of the step, and walked up to the front door.

Steve leaned over to unlock it, pushed it open, and waited.

He looked up at Eddie as Eddie stepped through the door.

“Maybe someday we can do this married,” Steve’s voice was quiet, nervous.

“You wanna marry me?” Eddie half-teased. He still couldn’t quite believe how much Steve wanted him, how much he loved him.

“I’d do it today if we could.”

“We could pretend anyway,” Eddie kissed his forehead before setting him down. “We’ve got a lot of rooms to christen.”

“Where do you wanna start?”

“The living room has a fireplace and I’ve had fantasies-“

“Fantasies? Seriously?”

Eddie tugged Steve to him by his waist, captured his lips in a heated kiss. “So many fantasies.”

Steve started walking them backwards towards the fireplace. “Show me what these fantasies looked like then.”

“You got it, big boy.”

[beeehiives]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin (briefly) Additional Tags: Confessions (Sort of), Boys Kissing, Fluff, Requited Love, Sharing Clothes Summary:

Steve and Eddie have gotten closer since the events of Vecna.

After talks with Robin, Steve gains the confidence to try flirting with Eddie. Chaos, and sharing clothes, ensue.

[beeehiives]

In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning

Vecna is defeated, time moves on, but Steve still can't sleep. Neither can Eddie.

A short story short: Eddie and Steve help each other get some rest.

Fic below, but also on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53420725

Transitioning back to real life post-Vecna happened much quicker than Steve was expecting. He had expected something else to go wrong, or at least to get caught up in the endless cogs of government bureaucracy as the folks at the lab tried to convince the entire town they’d experienced a run-of-the-mill earthquake.

It’s not as if it’s been a smooth transition, either. Max is still in physical therapy, working out how to walk again and being stubbornly stoic the entire time. The rest of the kids refuse to leave her side, bringing snacks and books and trying to recruit her to their nerdy dragons game.

Steve’s still healing, from the bat bites. He peeks at them sometimes, in between hospital visits. As far as post-Upside-Down injuries go, he’s had worse. His neck still hurts like a bitch, and the bruises still haven’t fully gone away. Every time he thinks about them, he gets cold shivers and has to close his eyes and breathe slowly for a few minutes. He feels weak.

Eddie’s even worse than he is, still asleep at the hospital a few doors down from Max’s room before she’d been released. Steve had taken him, carried him across the portal with steady, bloody hands. His torso had been torn to shreds, losing so much blood that Eddie had passed out cold.

Steve always figured he was good in a crisis. He knew how to get things done when they needed to be. It wasn’t until Eddie was lying in the hospital bed, unconscious but stable, that Steve allowed himself to worry.

Steve had stayed by his side for days, waiting for him to wake up. He read, paced around, and mostly made himself sick with anxiety. Wayne kept insisting that it was good he stay, that if Eddie were to wake up when Wayne was working, Eddie should have a familiar face to help him relax.

Steve felt like an imposter. He barely knew Eddie, really, having only known of each other in high school and having limited opportunities to talk when they were under attack by Vecna. Still — Steve felt a closeness to the boy lying on the hospital bed, long hair messy and tangled.

In the late night hours, when all the kids had gone home to sleep, Steve remained beside him. He tracked the movement of his chest, up and down, up and down. He worried that if he looked away, Eddie might stop breathing. He tore his eyes away from the shallow breaths and looked down at his hand.

Something rotten and forbidden hidden deep inside Steve called out for him to take Eddie’s hand. He wanted to hold him, feel his heartbeat through the vein on his wrist, become closer and closer to him. Eddie’s hand looked different without his rings on.

“Stevie,” Eddie’s voice would have startled Steve if he wasn’t too tired to even move. “What’re you doin’?”

Steve stared blankly. Eddie was awake, looking at him, soft features forming an expression of amused confusion. Steve opened his mouth to say something, before surging forward and hugging Eddie.

It was awkward, Steve leaning over the hospital bed and trying to avoid irritating any of Eddie’s wounds. Eddie let out a startled laugh and brought his arms up to hug Steve back. They stayed like this for longer than Steve thought he’d be capable of, before Eddie shifted and winced. Steve moved back immediately.

“Sorry.” Steve dropped his eyes back down to Eddie’s hand, suddenly bashful again. “I don’t know what I’m doing…here. Wayne’s working a shift and I figured…I don’t know. The kids are home sleeping, and you might want someone to—"

“I’m glad you’re here. Woulda sucked to be by myself,” Eddie starts, and a toothy grin makes its way to his face. “Especially after my heroic act.”

“Sure, man,” Steve huffed with laughter. He could feel the tension draining from his chest. Eddie’s awake. He’s alive. Steve’s hands start to shake. He sits back down beside the bed, trying to regulate his breathing.

“You scared the hell out of everyone,” Steve says quietly. “Dustin’s been here a bunch. All the kids have. They’ve been going back and forth between you and Max.”

“The kid’s alright?” Eddie asks, trying to sit up.

“Cut it out, you’ll tear something,” Steve says. “She’s healing. A lot of broken bones, but she’s in PT now and she’s as fierce as ever.” Eddie nods, satisfied. “I’m going to get a nurse to check you out.”

As Steve starts to stand up, Eddie stops him.

“Hey,” Eddie’s expression is hard to read. He’s looking at Steve’s neck, the bruising faint across his skin. “Thanks for bringing me back. And, uh, for staying.”

Steve nods. He goes to get a nurse, his task distracting him from wondering how Eddie knew it was Steve that had carried him home.

——

After that, time moves too quickly. Max seems to be doing better every day, and the kids spend the majority of their time filling Eddie’s hospital room with chatter and games (Steve still doesn’t quite get the rules of Dungeons & Warlocks). The Byers and Chief Hopper have temporarily moved in to Hopper’s old cabin, deciding to stay for a few weeks to let everything settle before they can get started on moving back to Hawkins.

Eddie, for his part, interacts with the kids in high spirits. He even teases Dustin, promising that “you can’t get rid of me that easily, I’m indestructible!”

Steve feels like he’s falling behind. When he goes home, it’s to an empty, dark house. His parents called to see if there had been damage to the house from the ‘earthquake,’ and after assuring them there wasn’t any, they’d hung up to continue their extended Europe vacation, far from the Indiana heat.

Steve barely sleeps, and when he does, the nail bat is underneath his bed. He’s prone to waking up in cold sweats, images of hellish dog beasts and flesh tearing and everyone he loves dying lingering in his mind. He tries to spend as much time as he can with Eddie, but gets ushered home by Wayne, who insists he should be trying to rest instead of spending all his time in the sterile hospital.

Sometimes, Wayne will be working, and Eddie will let him stay overnight with him at the hospital. They shoot the shit, playing card games and talking. Steve learns about Eddie’s world-star band, about how when they first started playing, Gareth would tease him for getting pre-show jitters. Eddie tells him about his parents, how he’s been staying at his uncle’s ever since they walked out of his life when he was a kid.

Steve listens, content to learn about Eddie and stare unabashedly at his animated expressions.

Steve is surprised when Eddie insists on knowing about Steve, too. He’s genuinely curious, asks way too many questions and listens intently. Steve feels nervous under his intense gaze, like he’ll slip up making eye contact and accidentally tell Eddie he thinks he’s beautiful.

When it gets late, and Eddie can’t keep his eyes open anymore, he asks Steve to stay. He won’t say why, but Steve wouldn’t say no either way.

Steve falls asleep in his chair next to Eddie’s hospital bed, head leaned onto the mattress, facing Eddie. It’s uncomfortable as hell for his neck when he wakes up, but he sleeps longer than he’s managed to sleep in a long time. It takes him a while to identify, but he realizes with a start one morning that he feels safe for the first time in too long.

Sometimes, when he’s right on the edge of sleep, in the quiet hospital room, Steve thinks he can feel Eddie’s fingers in his hair, brushing it behind his ear and off his brow.

——

When Eddie gets released from the hospital, Steve’s worried he’ll be done with him. Like, thanks for the company when I literally had nobody else to talk to, bye now!

Instead, Eddie insists on having Steve come over to the new place he and Wayne are set up. Since their old trailer was demolished (thanks, Vecna), the government set them up in a tiny two-bedroom on the edge of town that had been empty for decades, probably because it’s a couple busted pipes away from being condemned.

Eddie’s reputation was worse for wear, so he was instructed to stay inside until they were able to get everything sorted out.

Every time Steve worried about overstaying his welcome, Eddie fired back, arguing that he’d be getting “serious cabin fever” without company. The kids were back to school soon enough, deciding it was better off to finish out the school year than to have to redo the whole thing.

It was mostly just the two of them in the house, with Wayne back to work to afford groceries and keep up appearances. Steve found himself getting even closer to Eddie, his bright nature and infectious energy keeping him steady when the weight of what they’d been through threatened to overwhelm him.

One night in May, they’re lounging around the living room watching some awful late night soap opera and eating pizza when Steve perks his head up, remembering.

“How’d you know it was me who brought you back?” Steve looked over at Eddie, who shrugged. The moonlight glimmered through the window, catching Eddie’s face.

“I kept fading in and out. I think when you lifted me through the portal, it jostled me awake a little bit. I just remember feeling you carry me. And, when you almost dropped me when we landed back in the real world.” Eddie grinned, glancing teasingly at Steve, who rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t, though,” Steve smiled, taking a swig of his coke. “Carried you all the way out to the edge of the park, too. The ambulance couldn’t make it with the roads that jacked up. They almost wouldn’t come out.”

The feeling returns. Steve remembers how limp Eddie was in his arms, how frantic Dustin was, yelling at Steve to ask if he was still alive. Steve’s hands start to shake again, and he wants to reach out to touch Eddie and feel his heartbeat.

Eddie, ever so observant, leans forward and furrows his brow. “Dude, you okay?” Steve nods.

“I don’t like thinking about what happened. I can’t sleep because of it,” His own honestly startles him. Steve hasn’t told anyone about his issues sleeping. He crashes on the Munson family couch now and again when it’s too late to drive home, but he’s still never slept better than when he was right next to Eddie in the hospital room, messed up neck and all.

“Nightmares?” Eddie’s voice is soft, Steve almost can’t hear it over the dull chatter of the TV. Steve nods. “Same here. I keep seeing those things tearing into people. I don’t think I’ve slept through a full night yet, since—“ He cuts himself off.

“Since?” Steve asks. Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He nods his head, in a here goes nothing kind of way, before speaking.

“Since the hospital. It felt better—safer, when you were in the room. I don’t know. It’s not the same with other people. I’ve asked Wayne to stay with me until I fell asleep, but I keep waking up, same thing. With you—“ His voice wavers.

Steve fights to keep his expression neutral. He wants to reach out, comfort him, make him feel better. He elects to let Eddie finish. Eddie clears his throat. His voice is steadier.

“With you, it was like I was with someone who understood, who’d gone through the same shit. Like a trauma bonding kinda thing, I guess.”

Steve nods. “I felt the same.” Eddie seems to perk up at this. “Like, I could let myself relax because I was, uh. With you.” Steve feels a bit awkward now, that he’s said that last part. He half expects Eddie to laugh at him, or worse, be disgusted at his confession.

“Want to try it again?” Eddie’s voice is clearer, stronger now.

“Try what?”

“Sleeping. Together.” Eddie clarifies, before laughing at himself and shaking his head. “Like trying to rest. Only if you want to.”

Steve agrees faster than he can react. Thirty minutes later, they’re putting their plates in the sink and Steve’s awkwardly shuffling behind Eddie, who has to steady himself every now and then and walk a little slower than usual, thanks to the still-healing torso wounds.

Steve borrows a pair of pajama pants and an old, worn band tee that Steve’s never heard of. Eddie chuckles when Steve returns after changing.

Eddie gently lowers himself back into bed, the whiny squeaks of the shitty old bed frame the only sound in the room. Steve’s never been in here before, and he looks around at the boxes of clothes, haphazardly taped up metal band posters, and Eddie’s acoustic guitar, which Hopper salvaged from his trailer after he woke up.

It’s endearing, seeing how resilient Eddie has been in the face of a total uproot of his life.

Steve turns off the light and moves to sit on the floor next to the bed. Eddie blinks at him.

“What’re you doing, dude?” Eddie grunts and sits up on his elbows. Steve tilts his head.

“I thought we were going to sleep.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean—but—you don’t have to sleep down there.” Eddie pats the mattress next to him, moving the blankets back for Steve. The darkness of the room is comforting, hiding Steve’s face. He can still see the outline of Eddie’s wild hair, and his heart races.

“I don’t mean to intrude.” Steve whispers.

“You could never.”

Steve nods, moving to get into the right side of the bed next to Eddie. The mattress is just large enough for both of them, meaning that with Eddie having to sleep on his back to heal, Steve has to turn on his side in order to not bump shoulders. He turns facing away from Eddie.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, before Steve feels Eddie shift and bring his right arm up onto the pillow.

“I’m glad I got to know you,” Eddie whispers. In the silence of the night, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Steve is overwhelmed with emotion — with love. He feels heavy with it.

“I—“ Steve cuts himself off. He isn’t sure what he’ll say if he lets himself talk.

Eddie shifts around some more, gently tapping Steve’s back with his fingers. Steve trembles.

“Hey,” Eddie says. “You okay?” Steve turns around to face him. Eddie has shifted so he’s somewhat on his side facing Steve, a move which looks comfortable but he’s sure Eddie’s doctor would chastise him about.

Eddie scoots closer. He takes Steve’s trembling hands in his own.

“What’re you thinking about, Stevie?” Eddie whispers, his face inches away from Steve’s. He can smell Eddie’s shampoo, feel the warmth of his hands. Steve has never felt more safe, more secure.

“I’m falling for you.” Steve manages. He feels Eddie’s intake of air. Steve’s so tired he barely registers the potential consequences. Eddie could tell everybody, could make him leave, want him out of his life.

Instead, Eddie leans forward and kisses him. His hand comes up to brush against Steve’s jaw, and he moves forward to tangle their legs together. He has to stop when he winces in pain, readjusting his torso.

“Shit, sorry.” Steve croaks out. Eddie lets out a quiet, happy laugh.

“You really are?” Eddie asks. Steve nods. His hands aren’t shaking anymore.

“Is that…okay? I can leave if that makes you uncomfortable, I’d get it if you—“ Eddie kisses him again, and Steve can feel the smile on his lips.

“It’s the same for me, pretty boy,” Eddie says, voice soft. “I didn’t think you’d—I mean, I never thought you would too. C’mere.”

Eddie lifts his arm up to put under Steve, and Steve tucks his head into Eddie’s neck, breathing in slowly. He feels his mind start to relax. He puts his arm around Eddie, careful to mind his bandages.

Before he falls asleep, he can feel fingers soothing the tangles in his hair and a gentle kiss pressed to the top of his head.

He sleeps better than he has in years.