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Something Real
One movie, one confrontation, and one shared bucket of popcorn makes Eddie start to realise that maybe he never really knew Steve at allâand maybe, just maybe, he wants to. Also on AO3 [Here]
Eddie Munson has been waiting for weeks for this movie to come out.
Itâs a low-budget horror flick with a cult following and a killer soundtrack. None of Eddieâs friends were available or particularly interested in going, but thatâs fine, he wasnât going to let that stop him. Heâs got his overpriced popcorn, a drink the size of his head, and a seat smack in the middle of the theatre. Perfect.
Or it is up until Steve Harrington walks in.
Eddie notices him immediately. Itâs hard not to. Heâs got that hair, that walk, the tiny moles on his face that make him look soft and a great body. The subject of Eddieâs most hopeless, pathetic high school crush. And of course, heâs not alone. Thereâs a girl on his arm, pretty in a polished, too perfect kind of way.
He watches, curious despite himself. Steveâs always been a bit of an enigma. Eddieâs heard the stories. King Steve. Heartbreaker. Every bit the stereotypical leader of the jocks, treating women like objects and everyone else like loyal subjects for him to look down on.
But what Eddie sees now doesnât match up with those stories at all.
Steve opens the door for the girl with a soft, âAfter you,â and she brushes past him without a word. When she stumbles on the stairs, he catches her gently by the elbow, murmurs an apology for touching her without warning, and offers his arm for balance the rest of the way.
Eddie blinks. Huh.
They settle into their seats two rows down and directly in front of Eddie.
Of course they do.
The movie doesnât start for another thirty minutes, not even trailers yet, but Eddieâs already more interested in the Steve Harrington Show than whateverâs going to be on screen. He feels like heâs getting a sneak peek behind the scenes into Steveâs world and itâs nothing like he imagined.
They sit. She shivers under the AC, and Steve immediately shrugs off his jacket and offers it to her. Then he offers to switch seats so sheâs not directly under the vent.
Surprisingly, Steveâs the perfect gentleman. He asks about her day, offers her popcorn, and laughs at a joke that leans more mean than funnyâthough Eddie catches the subtle flicker of discomfort in his posture when sheâs not looking.
He compliments her hair and outfit, asks what kind of music sheâs into, and even admits to liking '70s rock. Itâs something Eddie never expected to hear from him but canât help respecting. Itâs the kind of detail that makes Eddie pause, realizing with a jolt that they might have a few songs in common. And thatâs unexpectedly disarming.
Steve even double-checks if sheâs sure sheâs okay with horror movies, offering to see something else if sheâs not.
âWhy? Are you scared?â she teases.
âTerrified,â Steve replies with a grin. âBut I figured if I screamed, youâd protect me.â
Eddie nearly chokes on a kernel of popcorn.
That was smooth. Like, actually smooth. It wasnât cocky or rehearsed. It was playful and self-aware. The line showed Steve didnât take himself too seriously, a refreshing contrast to the image-obsessed popular kids Eddie had grown up resenting. He leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing like heâs trying to solve a tricky riff. That line mightâve even worked on him. Heâs always been a sucker for someone who knows how to be a little silly without losing sincerity.
âHuh,â he mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his seat, suddenly more invested in this pre-show than the actual movie heâs paid to see.
But then the girl leans in, voice low and suggestive. âI didnât expect you to take me on a date like this. When I said we should watch a movie, I thought weâd grab one from the rental store and watch it at your place. Or, you know⌠somewhere more private.â
She walks her fingers up his chest in a way that makes Eddie want to gag.
Eddie rolls his eyes. Here we go.
He braces for the shift; the moment Steve drops the nice guy act and becomes the player everyone says he is. The moment he starts acting like the stereotypical meathead jock who only cares about getting girls into bed and out again before they get too attached. God forbid a straight guy have actual emotions or care about someone beyond the surface.
But it doesnât come.
âOh,â Steve says, shoulders going stiff. He takes hold of her hand and moves it away from his chest but holds onto it gently. âI thought we could spend some time together. Get to know each other. This is just our first date, after all, right?â
âI guess.â The girl shrugs. âI just thought you were supposed to be into showing girls a good time. Iâve heard the rumors.â
Steve laughs, but itâs nervous. Hollow. His eyes flick toward the fire exit like heâs considering a tactical retreat.
âYeah, uh⌠you donât need to worry about that,â he says. âI was kind of a mess in junior year. Iâve learned a lot since then. Hookups were fun, sure, but they never really felt good after. Iâd rather have something real now.â
âHmm,â she says, unimpressed and takes her hand back, turning back to the screen.
Eddie frowns. Something about her tone grates on him. Dismissive. Like Steve just offered her a piece of himself and she tossed it aside without looking.
He shifts again, but this time itâs not out of amusement. His smirk is gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and a faint scowl. He watches Steve fumble through the conversation, trying to be honest and vulnerable and getting nothing but attitude in return.
And it bugs him. More than it should.
Maybe itâs because heâs seen too many guys like Steve get away with being jerks. But hereâs Steve, trying to be better, trying to be real, and this girlâs treating him like heâs a joke.
Eddie knows what that feels like. To be misunderstood. To have people assume the worst of you based on old stories and high school gossip. And it sits right on his last nerve to watch it happen to someone else.
The conversation shifts.
Not in a dramatic way. There are no raised voices, no sudden outbursts, just a slow, steady unraveling. Itâs like watching a thread being pulled loose from a sweater.
The girl starts interrupting Steve. Not just once, but over and over. She talks over him, cuts him off mid-sentence, contradicts him just to do it. When he mentions liking a certain band, she scoffs and says theyâre overrated. When he shares a memory about a summer job, she calls it boring.
Eddie watches it all unfold like a car crash in slow motion.
Steve doesnât snap. Doesnât even push back. He just absorbs the impact of it. Smiles tightly. Tries to steer the conversation back to neutral ground. Heâs patient, too patient. Like heâs used to this and heâs trying not to make a scene.
Eddieâs scowl deepens.
He doesnât know why itâs bothering him so much. Maybe itâs because he expected Steve to be the problem. Expected him to be the shallow one. But instead, heâs watching Steve tryâreally tryâto be kind, to connect and make something work. And this girl is steamrolling him like heâs not even there.
Itâs uncomfortable. And not in the way Eddie usually enjoys.
The lights dim. A hush falls over the theatre. The trailers are about to start.
And then she speaks again.
âOh wow, look at that,â she says, pointing down toward one of the lower rows. Her voice is just loud enough to carry. âI bet they think no one can see them because the lights are off.â
Eddie follows her gaze.
Two men. Sitting close. Hands intertwined.
Something drops in his stomach.
âGross, right?â she laughs, looking at Steve for agreement.
The sound is sharp. Ugly. It cuts through the quiet like a knife.
Eddie freezes.
He doesnât know those guys. Doesnât need to. Because he knows that feeling. The one where you let yourself believe, just for a second, that youâre safe. That you can be like the people who are allowed to love their partner openly. That you can feel normal, just for one precious moment.
And then someone like her reminds you of exactly what the world thinks of you.
His jaw clenches. His grip tightens on the armrest. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath through his nose and braces himself for the inevitable crushing blow of hearing his straight boy high school crush agree that men who like men are gross.
It doesnât come.
Eddie cautiously opens his eyes.
Steve doesnât say anything at first. But Eddie sees the way his shoulders have gone rigid, the way his head has dipped slightly, like heâs trying to disappear into the seat. And thatâs when Eddie knows.
This isnât just secondhand embarrassment. Her comment hit him somewhere deep.
The girl leans in again, not picking up on Steveâs body language silently screaming at her to stop, voice low but still audible. âI mean, itâs just weird, right? Why do they have to do that in public? Itâs not like anyone wants to see it.â
Eddieâs blood runs cold.
Steve shifts. His hands curl into fists on his knees. Then, quietly but firmly, he says, âShut up.â
The girl turns, startled. âExcuse me?â
âI said shut up,â Steve repeats, louder this time. âYou have no idea what youâre talking about.â
He watches the girl recoil, stunned, and then scoff like sheâs the one whoâs been wronged. âWhat crawled up your ass all of a sudden?â
âTheyâre just two people who like each other,â Steve says. âTheyâre trying to enjoy a date. How is that any of your business?â
Eddieâs breath catches.
He doesnât move. Doesnât speak. Just stares at the back of Steve Harringtonâs head like itâs suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.
Steve had said something. Not just something, he had stood up - loud and clear and without hesitation - for two strangers. For people like Eddie. Eddieâs heart is pounding, but not from fear this time. Itâs something else. Something warmer. Fiercer.
âBecause itâs weird.â The girl doubles down,
âYou wouldnât think it was weird if it was those two people over there who were holding hands.â He gestures toward a man and woman sitting together near the front of the theatre.
âThatâs different.â
Steve turns to her fully now, eyes sharp. âHow?â
âBecause itâs two men. Itâs wrong. Itâs disgusting,â she says. âIâd say the same if it were two women.â
Steve flinches hard, like heâs been physically hit.
Thereâs a beat of silence. Heavy. Final.
âIâm very close to someone whoâs gay. And theyâre smarter, kinder, funnier, and better than youâll ever be,â Steve says, voice low and steady. âThis date is over. Donât bother calling me.â He goes to stand, but the girl shoves him back down and rises from her seat instead.
âYou donât get to walk out on me, Iâm walking out on you,â she snaps. âI only came on this stupid date because I was bored, and I thought youâd wanna fool around like you supposedly do with all the other girls anyway. Turns out youâre a disappointment.â
She grabs her purse, mutters something under her breath, and storms out, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Steve doesnât watch her go. He just stares straight ahead, jaw tight, hands still clenched on his knees.
Eddie swallows hard.
He wants to say something. âThank you for saying that,â maybe. Or âthat was braveâ. Or even just âheyâ. But all he can do is stare, stunned and a little breathless, because Steve Harrington just shattered every expectation Eddie ever had of him. And now Eddieâs sitting here while a laundry detergent commercial plays loudly in the background, heart in his throat, wondering how the hell he ever thought he had this guy figured out.
Steve puts his face in his hands and exhales deeply, like heâs trying to calm himself down. He seems tired now, defeated. Something about that doesnât sit right with Eddie after what he just witnessed. It spurs him into action. He doesnât know what heâs doing. He just knows he canât keep sitting there without saying something.
So, he stands. Walks down the steps. And stops at Steveâs row.
Steve hears the footsteps and looks up, startled. His expression flickersâconfusion, then recognition, then something like wariness.
âHey,â Eddie says, voice low. âMind if I sit?â
His heart is hammering out a beat that would rival the work of the drummers in his favourite metal bands. Heâs still mentally preparing himself for this Steve to disappear and be replaced by the jerk that had existed in his brain for the past few years.
Instead, Steve blinks at him, surprised. âUh⌠sure? Eddie, right?â
âThatâs what all the legends call me,â Eddie confirms, dropping into the seat beside him. Thereâs a beat of silence. Then he turns to look at Steve and âYou okay?â
Steve lets out a breath, a small smile appearing on his face. âYeah. I mean, not really. But I will be.â
Eddie nods. He doesnât push. Just lets the quiet settle for a moment. Then he says, âSo that was a lot.â
Steve huffs a laugh. âYeah. Not exactly how I pictured the night going. I assume you heard everything?â
âYep. She sucked,â Eddie says bluntly.
Steve snorts. âYeah. She really did.â
Another pause. Eddie shifts, glancing sideways at him. âYou didnât have to say anything,â he says. âBut you did.â
Steve shrugs, but thereâs tension in his shoulders. âDidnât feel like a choice.â
âThatâs kind of the point, though,â Eddie says. âMost people wouldâve just let it slide. Pretended they didnât hear it. You didnât.â
Steveâs quiet for a second. Then he says, âIâve let too much slide before. Iâm not doing that anymore.â
Eddie studies him. Thereâs something in Steveâs voice, something tired, but solid. Like a lineâs been drawn and heâs not stepping back from it. And Eddie feels that twist in his chest again. That strange, warm ache.
âI meant every word I said,â Steve adds, softer now. âI have a close friend, more like a platonic soulmate really, whoâs gay and the best person I know." He looks wounded. âAnd hearing someone I put enough trust in to consider dating basically call that person gross and disgusting and wrong... I couldnât just sit here and listen to that crap.â His fists clench. âItâs one thing if itâs me sheâs saying those things about but-â
He turns to face Eddie, his eyes wide and hands shaking as he realises the implications of what he said.
And Eddie knows that feeling.
Heâs worn that same expression before. In locker rooms. In hallways. In classrooms where someone said something cruel under their breath and everyone else just laughed. But Steve Harrington? King Steve? Heâs not supposed to know what that feels like.
Except he does.
Eddie nods slowly. âItâs okay. I figured.â He admits as casually as possible to try and ease Steveâs panic, although heâs still reeling over the events of the past few minutes. âYouâre safe with me,â he promises.
Steveâs tense shoulders deflate, and glances at him curiously. âYou?â
Eddie meets his eyes. âYeah. Me.â
Thereâs no shock in Steveâs face. No judgment. Just a quiet kind of understanding.
âCool,â Steve says. And he means it.
Eddie lets out a breath he didnât know he was holding. Then he grins, crooked and a little shy.
âYou know,â he says, âyouâre not what I expected.â
Steve raises an eyebrow. âYeah?â
âYeah. Youâre kind of a dork from the bits of conversation I overheard before things went bad.â
Steve laughs, and itâs real this time. âTakes one to know one.â
They sit in silence for a moment longer, their eyes lingering on each other, then Steve fully relaxes into his seat and turns to face the screen. âWell, no sense in wasting my ticket,â he says, then he holds his popcorn bucket out to Eddie, whoâs only just realised he left his behind. âWanna share?â
Eddie grins and grabs a handful. âThought youâd never ask.â
âââââââââ
Itâs the most fun Eddieâs had in a while.
Steve leans into his space every now and then, whispering snarky commentary about the charactersâ terrible decisions and even worse fashion choices. He especially tears into the asshole jock character, which catches Eddie off guard in the best way.
Eddie starts leaning in too, throwing in his own jabs, and before long, theyâre trading quips like theyâve done this a hundred times before. At one point, one of them says something so ridiculous that they both dissolve into laughter. Itâs the kind thatâs breathless and uncontrollable.
Someone turns around and shushes them, loud and annoyed.
They immediately straighten, whispering apologies like guilty schoolkids. But the second the person turns back around, they catch each otherâs eyes and grin, barely holding back another round of hysterics.
Steve nudges Eddieâs shoulder with his own, playful and warm.
Eddie nudges back.
If the small, friendly gesture sends goosebumps up his arms, wellâthatâs for Eddie to know and nobody else to find out.
Then, near the end of the film, the tension ramps up. The music swells. Eddieâs leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowed, when a sudden jumpscare hits and Steve gasps. Before Eddie can even register whatâs happening, a larger, warmer hand grabs his.
Eddie freezes.
Not because heâs scared of the movieâthough the jumpscare was decentâbut because Steve Harrington is holding his hand.
Tightly.
Warm fingers wrapped around his own, palm pressed flush against his. Itâs instinctive, a reflex, but Steve doesnât pull away. Doesnât even seem to realize heâs doing it at first.
Eddie doesnât move. Doesnât breathe. Heâs not sure if itâs the shock or the fact that his heart is currently trying to beat its way out of his chest, but heâs rooted to the spot.
Then Steve seems to realize what heâs done. His grip loosens slightly, but he doesnât let go. Instead, he glances sideways, eyes wide, a little sheepish.
âSorry,â he whispers. âDidnât mean to grab you like that.â
Eddie turns his head slowly, meets his gaze. Steveâs face is flushed, his expression somewhere between embarrassed and apologetic. Eddie could make a joke. He could laugh it off, tease him.
He doesnât.
Instead, he gives Steveâs hand a gentle squeeze.
âItâs okay,â he murmurs. âYou can hold on if you want.â
Steve blinks. His eyes search Eddieâs face for a moment, like heâs trying to figure out if heâs serious. Then he smiles, small, grateful and a little shy. It warms Eddie to his very core.
He doesnât let go.
They sit like that for the rest of the movie. Their shoulders brushing, hands clasped between them and fingers intertwined, the flickering light from the screen casting soft shadows across their faces. Eddie doesnât even remember how the movie ends, but he remembers the way Steveâs thumb brushed lightly over his when the final girl shared a kiss with her love interest.
And he knows, without a doubt, that somethingâs changed and shifted between them. Itâs something small, but at the same time monumental.
As the lights come up, Steve sighs. He gives Eddieâs hand one last squeeze before letting go and standing to stretch. Eddieâs hand falls to his lap, suddenly cold, and he stares at it for a second like it might still remember the shape of Steveâs fingers.
He already misses the warmth. The weight. The quiet reassurance of it.
âDid you drive here?â Steve asks suddenly.
Eddie blinks, caught off guard. He expected this to be the end. He expected they would just awkwardly part ways in silence after this, try to lose each other in the small crowd exiting the theatre and then avoid each other for the most part. Maybe they would share a nod or a half-smile the next time he wandered into Family Video, but thatâs all Eddie had hoped for.
He hadnât hoped for this, for Steve waiting for Eddie to stand too, still looking at him like he wants to keep talking.
âUh, yeah,â Eddie says. âMy vanâs out back.â
Steve nods. âCool. I parked a few rows over. You wanna walk out together?â
Eddieâs heart stutters. He stands slowly, trying to play it cool. âYeah. Sure. Why not?â
They fall into step as they exit the theatre, the buzz of the credits still echoing faintly behind them. The lobby is mostly empty now, just a few stragglers and the hum of vending machines. Outside, the night air is cool and quiet, the parking lot bathed in soft yellow light.
For a moment, neither of them says anything.
Then Steve glances over, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. âThanks for sitting with me. I didnât expect⌠well, any of this.â
Eddie shrugs, but thereâs a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âYeah, me neither. But Iâm glad I did.â
Steve smiles back, and itâs that same small, shy one from earlier. It makes Eddie feel like heâs standing too close to a bonfire, especially now with the glow of the streetlights illuminating Steveâs features. They reach the edge of the lot where their cars are parked a few rows apart. Eddie slows, not quite ready to say goodbye.
Steve hesitates too. Then, almost nervously, he says, âHey, uh⌠are you hungry?â
âYeah,â Eddie says, slower this time, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âYeah, I could eat.â
Steveâs face lights up, just a little. âThereâs a diner a few blocks from here. Itâs not fancy, but theyâve got decent fries and terrible coffee.â
âSounds perfect. Lead the way, sweetheart.â
The pet name's out before Eddie can stop it.
His brain short-circuits the second it leaves his mouth. His eyes go wide, and he immediately wants to rewind time, shove the word back down his throat, and pretend it never happened.
Shit.
He curses himself silently. Nicknames have always slipped out like second nature around his friends, bandmates, even the occasional stranger. But this? This is Steve. And this moment feels different. More fragile. More real.
He risks a glance at Steve, fully expecting confusion, maybe discomfort.
But Steveâs just looking at him with that same soft smile. A little surprised, sure, but not upset. If anything, he looks⌠pleased?
âSweetheart, huh?â Steve says, raising an eyebrow, but thereâs a teasing lilt in his voice.
Eddie lets out a breathy, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. âItâs a reflex. I swear. Iâve called random people on the street âdarlinâ and the guy working the counter at the gas station âbabeâ before now.â
Steve hums, clearly amused. âDidnât say I minded. But now Iâm a little jealous of the guy at the gas station.â
Eddie blinks. âYou didnât? âŚYou are?â
âNope, not at all. And yeah, I am.â Steve starts walking, hands in his pockets, glancing back over his shoulder with an exaggerated pout. âThought I mightâve been special for a second there.â
Eddie wants to kiss that look right off his face, but he reels that thought in fast. Steveâs probably just joking. Just sharing friendly banter with a guy he knows wonât hurt him for it. Who is Eddie to deny him that experience or make it awkward by assigning a deeper meaning to it?
âWhat can I say, Steve?â he shrugs. âThe man sometimes gives me discounts on my favourite brand of cigarette. How can you compete with that?â
Steve bites his lip, clearly trying to stifle a smile. Eddieâs eyes lock on his mouth.
âI can think of a few ways,â Steve says, voice low, suggestive and just a little nervous as he sways into Eddieâs space. He gets close, so close Eddieâs stomach swoops.
Then a devilish grin curls at the corner of Steveâs lips.
âLast one to the diner pays.â
âWhaââ Eddie starts, dazed.
But Steveâs already taken off running, his laughter echoing behind him.
âHey! Thatâs no fucking fair! Youâre rich!â Eddie shouts, already breaking into a sprint.
Steve turns, running backward for a second just to flash him a grin. âBetter catch up to me then!â
Eddie cackles, wild and breathless, as he chases after him. He sees the moment Steve realizes heâs gaining fast and the flicker of panic that crosses his face. Steve hadnât counted on the fact that Eddie Munson has years of experience running from trouble.
Trying to push his legs to work faster turns out to be a fruitless effort for Steve because Eddie manages to catch him around the waist and spin him away from the front door of the diner just as heâs about to reach for the handle. They almost end up sprawled on the ground together from the momentum of it, but Steve manages to grasp Eddieâs forearms and fix their footing as the metalhead leans against his back and laughs uncontrollably.
They stand there for a second, tangled up in each other, catching their breath. Eddie leans into him, still chuckling, and Steve canât help but laugh too, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and giddy.
âYouâre fast,â Steve says, glancing over his shoulder.
âYouâre slow,â Eddie counters, grinning like heâs won the lottery.
Steve rolls his eyes, but heâs smiling too. âYou tackled me.â
âI redirected you,â Eddie says, mock-offended. âWith grace.â
Steve turns in his grip, still holding onto Eddieâs arms, and theyâre suddenly face to face. Close. Closer than theyâve been all night. The laughter fades into something quieter, softer.
Eddieâs eyes flick to Steveâs mouth for just a second. Steve notices.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moves.
Then the diner door swings open behind them with a loud ding, and a couple walks out, chatting loudly and breaking the moment. Eddie steps back, clearing his throat. âGuess we should, uh⌠go inside before they run out of terrible coffee.â
Steve nods, still smiling. âYeah. Letâs go.â
ââââââââ
âSo, what youâre telling me is that youâre basically a single parent to six?â
Theyâre sat in a booth in the back corner, chatting animatedly and occasionally stealing each otherâs fries even though they got exactly the same thing. Theyâd foregone the crappy coffee for milkshakes though, Steveâs strawberry and Eddieâs chocolate.
âSeven if you count Erica, Lucasâ little sister,â Steve corrects him. âBut juryâs still out on whether sheâs actually a child or whether Lucas is just living with the consequences of feeding a mogwai after midnight.â
âGod you are such a nerd,â Eddie laughs, delighted. ââMogwaiâ? You didnât even use the incorrect term - âgremlinâ - like most people would. You just went straight in there with âmogwaiâ.â
Steve grins, clearly pleased with himself. âWhat can I say? I take my pop culture references seriously.â
Eddie leans back in the booth, shaking his head with a smile. âYouâre a walking contradiction, Steve. You look like you should be quarterbacking some all-American football team, but you talk like youâve got the entire catalogue of Family Video memorised.â
Steve sips his milkshake, eyes twinkling. âMaybe I do.â
Eddie raises an eyebrow. âDo you?â
Steve shrugs, all faux-casual. âYouâll have to hang out with me again to find out.â
Eddieâs caught off guard for a second, not by the words, but by the way Steve says them. Like itâs not a joke. Like he means it. Eddie, whoâs spent most of his life waiting for the other shoe to drop, finds himself hoping just a little that maybe this time it wonât.
He smiles, softer now. âSo, if you donât mind me asking, how does King of the jocks and certified lady-killer Steve Harrington become an actually decent and interesting guy with a brood of little lost ducklings?â
Steve leans back in the booth, fingers idly tracing the condensation on his milkshake glass.
âItâs a long story, but I guess I just got tired of pretending I wanted the same things I used to,â he says. âBack in high school, it was all about the image. The parties, the girls, the reputation. I thought that was what I was supposed to want. What everyone expected from me.â
Eddie watches him, the teasing gone from his expression.
âBut somewhere along the way, I realized I didnât want to keep chasing something that never really made me feel good. I started figuring out that what I actually want is something that feels real. Something that lasts.â
He glances up, meets Eddieâs eyes. Thereâs something open in his expression. Itâs unguarded, but cautious. Eddieâs heart does something strange in his chest, tightens and softens all at once. He reminds himself that shouldnât be reading into things; Steve might just be getting used to having someone he can talk to about all this.
He nods slowly, voice quiet. âYeah. I get that.â
They share a soft, secret smile.
âSo,â Steve says. âYou like metal, right? I donât think Iâve ever listened to that before. What do you like about it?â
Itâs a hard pivot in the topic of conversation, but Eddie allows it. Mostly because the fact that Steve seems to realise how important music is to Eddie and makes a point to ask him about it. Eddieâs eyes light up at the question, and he sits up a little straighter.
âOh man, where do I even start?â he says, grinning. âOkay, so itâs loud, itâs chaotic. But itâs also honest. It doesnât pretend to be something itâs not. Itâs raw and messy and emotional, and it doesnât apologise for any of it.â
Steve watches him, chin propped on one hand, milkshake forgotten for the moment.
Eddie continues, more animated now. âAnd a lot of the songs are about overcoming adversity. About going through hell and somehow still fighting and persevering. Itâs about taking back power when the world is trying to crush you. It makes me feel confident for a change, like I could take on anything. And people complain that itâs just noise but thatâs so far from the truth. It takes so much talent and years of dedication and-â
He pauses, his eyes flicking to Steveâs, suddenly self-conscious. âSorry. Iâm rambling.â
Steve shakes his head, smiling. âNo, I like it. You talk about it like itâs more than just music.â
âIt is,â Eddie shrugs, a little sheepish. âIt kind of saved my life, yâknow? When everything else felt like it was falling apart and I had nowhere I belonged, metal was the one place I could just be and feel accepted. No masks. No pretending.â
Steveâs expression softens. âThat makes sense.â
Thereâs a beat of quiet between them, not awkward, just full. Like the airâs thick with things unsaid but understood. Then Steve leans forward, a playful glint in his eye. âSo, if I wanted to dip my toe into the world of metal, where would I start? Whatâs, like, the gateway drug?â
âReally? You want to give up your metal virginity?â
âDidnât have to put it like that,â Steve says, his face scrunching up in a way thatâs far too cute to do anything good for Eddieâs heart.
âOkay, youâre coming over to my trailer as soon as possible and Iâm going to play you some songs. Iâm already mentally writing a list. This is gonna be so good.â Eddie laughs ecstatically and rubs his hands together deviously. âWeâll make a metalhead out of you yet, Steve.â
âIâm looking forward to it,â Steve replies, his expression so open and honest that it gives Eddie pause.
Eddieâs demeanor turns softer. âYou donât have to like it though, yâknow. I wonât be offended.â
âI know,â Steve meets his gaze, steady. âI want to understand the things that matter to you.â
Eddieâs caught off guard again. His heart does that weird fluttery thing, and he has to look away before he says something stupid.
âCool,â he says, voice a little rough. âYeah. Cool.â
They go back to their fries, the silence between them now warm and companionable. Outside, the neon sign of the diner flickers softly, casting pink and blue shadows across the table.
ââââââââââ
The bell chimes above their heads and a nice, middle-aged lady calls out a, âThank you for coming, be sure to get home safe,â as Eddie holds the door open for Steve and they step back out into the cold night air.
Steve sidles up next to him. âThank you for getting the door for me, Sweetheart,â he says, teasing.
Eddie groans loudly. âYou are not going to let me forget about that, are you?"
âNever,â Steve beams.
They settle into a comfortable silence as they walk. Their shoulders touch once, then again, and neither of them moves away. Their hands are so close that they constantly brush against each other and itâs driving Eddie mad. All he would have to do is reach out a little and he could be holding Steveâs hand again. He isnât able to summon the courage for that because heâs still not quite sure if Steve feels anything more than a budding sense of friendship toward him.
They walk in step down the quiet street, the night air crisp and laced with the scent of damp pavement and distant woodsmoke. The town is mostly asleep, windows glowing softly in the distance, the occasional car humming by like a lullaby.
Their hands brush again. This time, Steve doesnât pull away. In fact, he lets his fingers linger just a second longer than before. Eddieâs heart stutters.
He swallows. âHey, uh⌠you donât have to say yes or anything, but would you ever want to come to a show sometime, like one of the local gigs I play or even just hang out while I practice? Hear some live music.â
Steve looks over at him, eyes warm. âIâd love that.â
Eddie blinks. âYeah?â
âYeah,â Steve says, like itâs the easiest thing in the world. âI want to see you in your element. I bet you look cool as hell on stage.â
Eddie laughs, a little breathless. âI mean, I do, obviously. But I appreciate the vote of confidence.â
They stop next to Eddieâs van. Neither of them moves to leave just yet.
Steve rocks on his heels. âThanks for tonight. I had more fun than I probably had in years if Iâm being honest.â
Eddie nods, his voice soft. âYeah. Me too.â
Thereâs a pause. Neither of them moves.
Then Steve clears his throat and pulls one hand free, fishing around in his back pocket. âBefore I forget,â He pulls out a pen and the crumpled diner receipt, scribbles something down, and hands it to Eddie. âMy number. For whenever you want to hang out or just talk.â
Eddie takes it, fingers brushing Steveâs. He looks down at the messy scrawl of digits, then back up, heart thudding. âThank you. Iâll definitely call you to set something up soon, and let you know as soon as I know when the next gigâs going to be.â
âCool, I canât wait,â Steve smiles.
He hesitates for a second, then steps a little closer, his gaze drifting to Eddieâs lips. âAlso, Iâve been thinking about doing this all night.â
Eddie barely has time to process that before Steve leans in and kisses him.
The kiss is soft and tentative at first, like a question asked in a language neither of them is fluent in yet. Steveâs lips brush against Eddieâs with a kind of reverence, like heâs afraid to push too far, too fast. But Eddieâs breath catches, and instinct takes over. He leans in, closing the distance, answering the question with a quiet certainty.
His hands find their way to Steveâs waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket like theyâve always belonged there. Steveâs hands hover for a moment before settling gently on Eddieâs shoulders, grounding them both.
The world fades. The cold night air, the hum of a distant streetlamp, the faint creak of the vanâs metal frame, all of it disappears. Itâs just them. Just this.
Steve tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and Eddie feels it like a spark down his spine. Itâs still gentle, still careful, but thereâs something more now. Itâs something that says âI see youâ and âI want thisâ. Itâs terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
When they finally part, itâs slow, reluctant. Steveâs eyes flutter open, and he looks at Eddie like heâs trying to memorize every detail of his face.
âWas that okay?â Steve asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie blinks, dazed, lips tingling, heart pounding. Then he grins, wide and a little breathless. âYeah. Yeah, that was more than okay.â
Steve lets out a soft laugh, relief blooming across his face. âGood.â
They linger there, close enough to feel each otherâs breath in the space between them. Steve leans in again, slower this time, and kisses him once more. Itâs just as soft and just as sure. Itâs the kind of kiss that says this isnât a one-time thing.
âIâll call you,â Eddie says, still smiling as they hesitantly move away from each other. âGod, it might even be as soon as I get home after a kiss like that.â
âIâll be waiting,â Steve replies, stepping back slowly, like heâs reluctant to go.
Eddie watches him walk away, heart pounding, fingers still curled around the scrap of paper like itâs something precious.
Steve turns back to face him and, heâs smiling, nervous, but genuine. âGoodnight, Eddie.â
Eddieâs frozen for a second, then grins, wide and a little dazed. âGoodnight, Sweetheart.â
They part ways, both of them feeling a little lighter than before.
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stonathan fwb (steddie)
this one is inspired by this fic by fivecenturiesverse
âNancy and I broke up.â
âShit,â Steve says, somehow managing to sound surprised. As if he and Nancy werenât teetering on the verge of something throughout spring break. âThat sucks, man.â
âItâŚwas a long time coming, I think,â Jonathan admits. Thereâs a soft thump, like Steve clapping Jonathanâs shoulder in solidarity.Â
They donât say anything else, and Eddie almost leaves to go eavesdrop somewhere else when Jonathan speaks.Â
âAre youâŚgoing to do anything about that?â
âAbout what?â Steve asks, genuine confusion in his voice.Â
âNancy.â
âOh.â Steve doesnât say anything for a moment, and Eddie braces himself to hear the truth. That heâs going to ask her out, ask to get married, ask her to have his six little nuggets and travel across the country together. âNo.âÂ
Eddieâs brain record scratches.Â
âReally?â Jonathan sounds rightfully skeptical.Â
âYeah, I donâtâŚâ he lets out a nervous laugh, and Eddie can picture him raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. âThereâsâŚsomeone else, and I canâtâŚsheâs amazing. Nancy, I mean. Sheâs, like, this huge person in my mind, you know? I wanted to love her so much, and I convinced myself she loved me back because it was easier than admitting I was clinging onto something that wasnât meant to be. I kind of put my whole future on her. Figured if I could love any girl, itâd be the perfect one right in front of me.â He laughs again, hollow. âShe was right, to call it bullshit. I donât know what I was thinking.â
âOh.â
âYeah.â
âIf it helps, I think she really did love you,â Jonathan says, sounding fake as all hell.Â
Steve brushes him off. âNo you donât. Itâs okay, it was never really real. Not like you guys. ThatâŚthat really sucks, man.â
âItâs for the best, I think.â Thereâs a long pause. âYou saidâŚif you could love a girl, it would be Nancy.â
ââŚI did say that,â Steve says warily. Eddie has a feeling he really, really shouldnât be listening to this, but he canât bring himself to back away.Â
âDo youâŚare youâŚâÂ
âIf youâre going to be an asshole, I should tell you that Iâve been working out a lot since â83,â Steve interrupts.Â
âI noticed,â Jonathan mutters.Â
What.Â
âWhat?â
âWhat?â
âIâŚnothing,â Steve sighs.Â
Thereâs another, longer pause, filled with tension that Jonathan decides to take an emotional jackhammer to. âDo you want to fuck me?âÂ
What the fuck.Â
Oh, God, heâs going to have to save Jonathan Byers from his tragically straight crush. From their mutual tragically straight crush? âŚtheir mutual tragically straight crush, who admitted to not liking girls?Â
Somethingâs not adding up.Â
âWhat the fuck, Byers?â Steve sounds angry, and Eddie prepares to jump in. âWhat, you think just because Iâm queer I automatically want to sleep with you?â
What.Â
âNo!â Jonathan yelps. âNo, thatâs not it, itâs justâŚweâre both queer, and stuck here for the foreseeable future, and Iâve never been with a guy but I trust you.â
Thereâs a stunned silence.Â
âYouâre queer.â
Jonathan doesnât say anything, probably dying of mortification.Â
âYou trust me?â
âSteve,â Jonathan says gently, and Eddie nearly bites through his tongue. âOf course I do.â
âYou and Nancy just broke up,â Steve says, wavering. âAnd I canâtâŚthereâs someone else. I wasnât lying about that.â
âIt doesnât have to mean anything. You can say no. I just figured Iâd ask.â
âFuck,â Steve mutters. âYou realize Iâm just as in the dark here as you are, right? Iâve never been with a guy either.â
âWe can find out together,â Jonathan says. âOnly if you want to, though.â
A heavy silence, where Eddie has to bite his tongue to keep his cool.Â
âFuck it. Why the hell not?â
Then Eddie has to leave for the sake of his own sanity. Not before he hears the wet smack of a kiss, though.Â
Eddie might be going insane.Â
Itâs like everywhere he looks he sees signs of Steve and Jonathanâs⌠development. Steve leans forward to grab something and his eyes catch on a hickey under his collar. Jonathan sits a little too gingerly one day, and Eddieâs immediately caught up in a fiery inferno of jealousy that heâs not the one sore from whatever Steve did last night. He has to leave the room.Â
It gets even worse when Steve comes by DND wearing a shirt that is clearly Jonathanâs.Â
âWhat are you wearing?â Dustin demands before he can. Itâs probably a good thing he did, Eddie might have just started biting him to stake a claim. Which is a useless thought, because Steve isnât his to claim at all. Steve is Jonathanâs. And stake a claim he did.Â
He kind of wishes he could hate Jonathan, but he canât. The guyâs just so sweet with his brother, and itâs obvious in the way he takes care of people that heâs a good guy. The kind of guy who deserves someone like Steve. Someone would have to be a crazy, fucked-up, jealous asshole to hate him.Â
Eddie is all of those things. Heâs also great at lying to himself. If he doesnât admit he hates Jonathan Byers, fellow freak, for sleeping with the most unfortunately spectacular jock imaginable, he never has to confront his own failure to keep to his code. The doctrine that Steve cheerfully set on fire and then stomped the ashes into dust. All without knowing it, the asshole.Â
He really canât blame Jonathan. Eddieâs well aware that heâs made up some weird, one-sided rivalry in his head over Steveâs affections. Itâs not his fault that one of them got the guy, and the other got to scream into his pillow at 2am.Â
Sure, they both said they were hung up on other people, but how long would that really last? Heâs fairly sure Steve was lying about having feelings for someone. Eddie canât help but watch him, and heâs never once seen a sign Steve was interested in any of the other men he hung out with.Â
Steve colors. âItâs Jonathanâs,â he says, picking at the band tee like heâs self-conscious about it. Which is ridiculous. He obviously knows he looks good in anything. âIâŚuhâŚspilled something on mine.â
From the way he talks, Eddie has a pretty good idea what exactly got on his shirt. He takes deep breaths, and tries not to chew through the table. He wishes Steve were in his band shirt instead. Heâd look great in Judas Priest merch.Â
He tries not to picture him in a Corroded Coffin shirt. He fails.
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Just a little posessive
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That feeling when your girlfriend in a wedding dress tells you to kiss her friend who you just married, platonically, but then said kiss reveals potentially romantic feelings for your âplatonicâ husband aka your and your girlfriends friendâŚ
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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 barâwearing his little pink crop top and skin tight Levi'sâand 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.
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"Tamagotchi Tomura"
The real reason why Shirakumo / Kurogiri was chosen to take care of Shigaraki đ
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Fic where Eddie learns his perfect boyfriend is an ASSHOLE and a really great liar who hasn't changed even a little bit when he overhears Tommy Hagan let slip that he and Steve have a bet going about getting the school freak to fall for a jock.
Well, Eddie's not going to be made a fool!! No one gets to humiliate him like that!
He calls Steve up to dump him. Says some awful things to hurt Steve and when Steve's voice gets all watery Eddie snaps at him like "you don't get to cry about it! Tommy told me everything!" (A lie, technically, because Eddie was eavesdropping by whatever) "I know about the bet and guess what. I'd never love you."
And there is just a long pause where Eddie would think he got hung up on except there isn't a dial tone. Then Steve asks, "you... you really think I'm like that? That I'm capable of- that I would do something like that? I guess it's... for the best you're breaking up with me then." And then he hears the dial tone.
And it's so not what Eddie expects to hear because King Steve has never just admitted defeat before. Eddie's victory doesn't taste as sweet as he thought it would.
But what Eddie doesn't know is there is no bet. Steve asked Eddie out because he thought he was cute and took a chance shooting his shot. (He never expected Eddie to actually say yes!) Steve had no clue what Eddie was talking about and doesn't understand where this idea came from. But what Steve does know is that instead of talking to him, the boy he's in love with just believed some horrible lie and decided it was true.
Steve loves Eddie but he's not going to stay with someone who thinks so little of him that he believes a lie so easily.
Tommy's just spreading lies and hateful gossip hoping to get back at his ex-best friend for "abandoning" him.
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Eddie: *trying to make nice as Steve gets ready to go out with Robin* Hi baby. Damn Stevie. You clean up nice! Look good enough to eat! Steve: *who is mad at Eddie over something he did earlier in the evening and is petty and hellbent on not smiling at anything Eddie says tonight* Woooow. As someone who has been partially eaten alive, that just isn't a compliment. Eddie: Don't be like that! Also, I literally have been more eaten alive than you!
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been watching s1 of andor and omfg i understand why ppl are saying itâs one of the best star wars medias ever made!!
its so so good! i havent even watched many of the shows but i can already tell that itâll be near impossible for them to beat andor!
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Round 2 Steddie Bingo Promptfill
@steddiebingo
Rated: T
Prompt: Home
WC: 3168
Ao3 link: here!!!
Tags: Getting Together, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Angst
âââââââ
âFine!â
Steve strutted off, busted face and all, rushing up the garishly pristine stairs of hisâwell his parentâs homeâready to get the fuck out of here.
It was due time anyway. He was fed up with not just all the nagging, but the general bad demeanour, the demeaning words, the not-even-being-here but making him anxious all the same. And even when his parents were home, the few minutes they used up of their so-called precious time on him were all wasted on awful criticisms, never ever any words that resembled even a sliver of love and affection.
He slammed open the door to his room, the room that was no longer his as of this moment. Even before this, the room was never truly his. It was a facsimile of a personality slathered onto the walls, the shelves and the god awful patterned curtains.
Everything in there wasnât Steve and it never was, not even representing Steve back in the days where he was a little standoffish asshole to the masses in Hawkins High.
It was more akin to a furniture storeâs showrooms, everything too polished and basic, seeming like an average teenage boy's room but with just a hint of something missing.
It was manufacturedâfake, to put it simply.
Just like he was.
Though heâd changed, and he heavily respected his own efforts trying to get away from the expectation of his parents, of all the people around him.
Steve mainly respected Nancy, for giving him the big push to not only recognise the assholery beside him, but to take a stand and leave despite the stomach-turning fear born in his childhood years that leaving his friends and no longer following the status quo would make him an outcast.
Besides, he liked outcasts anyway.
The best people he knew were all outcasts whoâd be sneered at by the likes of Tommy and Carol, and his parents.
He sometimes missed Tommy and Carol, the sensation felt as if he was missing a vital part of himself, but he recognised that as the years went on, all three of them became twisted individuals filled with underlying hate, no longer the innocent kids they were back in elementary school.
And so he said goodbye to them both, in a fashion very similar to this very
moment, with a sneer plastered on his face and a bruising eye right above it.
Steveâs suitcase was grabbed from right under his bed, half-filled already, what with him having a feeling in the back of his head that something like this would happen sooner or later, and it had.
He still had some stuff to pack up before he was ready to leave his parentâs and despite detesting this place and his parents way of treating him, his stomach curled up with an emotion he could discern to be regret, love, and a form of wantingâwanting his parents attention, wanting them to actually care for their son like all the parents did on the television shows heâd watch as kid, all alone, while his parents were travelling.
He opened up the drawers beside his desk, shoving in all the polos and jeans stuffed in there, messily throwing them in, not caring to keep anything clean like he used to.
His parents were no longer keeping up the pretence of caring for him, so why would he follow their expectations to keep everything prim and proper?
Steve could hear his father, the asshole, shouting downstairs, likely fighting with his mother, who, for all her faults did care for Steve partly and was seen as too âlax on the boyâ by good olâ Richard Harrington II.
He promptly sped up.
The clothes were all in, even his old school varsity jackets were thrown atop everything, but Steve felt like he should have something more.
Was this really all he had?
There was nothing personal that screamed Steve Harrington.
Everything only looked like a typical jockâs room and his closet looked like the average Searsâ catalogue, nothing was solely him.
There were no personalised pictures framed, no loving family or friends behind the glass panes of a picture frame, no personal gifts spread out on his desk, absolutely nothing to note.
Actually, now that he looked, Steve found a few things to note.
Beside his desk lamp was a walkie-talkie, courtesy of Dustin and the rest of the nerds, after they made a whole big deal, instating him into their little gang, making him officially a member of the âUpside-Down Crewâ even though he technically was a part of that the year before.
He took that into his hands, smiling at the memory, before adding it to the growing pile of items in his old school backpack, not zipping it up yet.
Steve wasnât only preparing for this inevitable day of getting kicked out by his parents with just a half-filled suitcase, but monetarily as well.
For every shift of work heâd taken since he was 16 with his small summer lifeguard gig upon being told to âbe a manâ and get a job by his father, he, even with his little finance and general math skill, knew he had to keep some savings in case of an any emergencies and just to prepare for what life could throw at him.
For every eight-hour shift, he squirrelled away one hour's worth of earnings, knowing that with the privilege of his parentsâ money, he could spend his teen years living comfortably off their money, along with seven hours' worth of dollars, even affording to splurge out on some things like the newest skin mags and buying Farrah Fawcett in bulk from his motherâs bi-monthly delivered catalogues.
He had quite a lot of cash stored up in envelopes at the bottom of his underwear drawer, with lots of it also stored in a secret debit card under his name, altogether having more than enough savings to live alone and find his footing as he left this godforsaken house.
Steve's suitcase was fully ready to go, and so was he.
He chucked a jacket on his back, backpack on afterwards, and was ready to storm out, keychain in hand.
Deciding not to face the shouting match going on downstairs that would inevitably turn to angrily drinking, he decided to go out through the back door, right by the pool that had caused his life to veer well off course, for the better.
He wheeled his suitcase right over, glad for the shouting for once, since itâd cover any creaking from the stairs and the loud thumps of the suitcase as he brought it down.
Steve quickly evaded the sight of his parents, getting to the backdoor quite quickly, but not before he took a small gander at his parents in the living room, arguing right in front of an obnoxious mantlepiece, shrouded with many picture frames above it, none of them with the family inside.
He looked at them for what felt like a long moment, but was truthfully quite short, taking in their faces, knowing that this would likely be the last time that heâd ever see his parents again.
He said goodbye to Victoria and Richard Harrington in his head, his heart deep down still wanting to reach out and have their affection. It was pitiful.
Steve knew better than to entertain their negligence and lack of love, so he powered through these emotions, turning his gaze away and was now out the back door.
Quickly trudging the suitcase over, and he was now suddenly at the edge of the premises, just a metre away from his carâthankfully switched to being under his ownership as a gift for his eighteenth birthday.
He opened up the boot, shoving everything inside in a hurried manner. Once that was over, he threw himself into the beemer, mind focused on where the fuck he would go.
Robin wasnât an option.
In any other moment, she would be, but the one time he needed her, she was over in Bloomington, Indiana, checking over their campus in case she ended up picking them as her go-to college, what with their great language courses.
Steve had been to her house before, and her parents were so sweet to him. They were quite odd and loved the idea of Robin breaking societal expectations and rules.
Sneaking Steve into the house was something that made them happy, wanting Robin to be such a rule-breaker, though he would feel very odd intruding on them, especially without Robin present to cool the awkward feelings that would be sure to arise with a situation like this.
Steve drove off, revving up his engine in a showcase of his own rule-breaking, finding it hilarious how he could faintly hear his father shout a few expletives as he ran out to attempt to catch up to Steve.
He drove off further, getting out of Loch Nora, and tried to rack his mind over where to stop.
Steve loved the kids and everyone else heâd met due to the Upside Down situation, but it just felt a tad too personal to infringe on their space with his issues.
While he joked about his parents a few times, only Robin knew the full extent of their neglect and awfulness, so heâd only feel right with her helping him, which wasnât exactly a possibility.
He found himself absent-mindedly driving, cassette tape playing a few tunes on low volume, using it as background noise as he zoned out, too stuck in his head to listen to the godly voice of Bruce Springsteen singing The River.
Suddenly, he found himself recognising the land he was entering.
His mind had instinctively brought him over to Skull Rock, the place where he was far too used to going in his moments of angerâor sadness, when it came to his parents, or even Nancy after she broke up with him.
Before it was used for casual hookups and became a teenage deviance hotspot, it was just for him.
For Steve to sit alone and ponder, to find a space to relax away from everything.
Away from the suffocating house that never truly was his home, away from the thoughts plaguing his mind, and away from all the heartbreak haunting him, over losing Nancy, having nobody who knew him like Tommy and Carol once did, and his parents not loving him.
He knew that heâd have to find an actual place to stay, some little hotel before heâd have to start renting out his own place, but for now, this was good, it was more homey than the Harrington home of solitude and bad attitude had ever been.
Steve didnât feel like leaving the comfort of his car, despite how much he loved Skull Rock, because it would make this real.
He expected it, but now that he was kicked out, his mind could barely take it.
His mind was going into overdrive while also zoning out, hardly able to process his fatherâs actions, his hand to Steveâs face and harsh words.
And truthfully, Steve didnât want to process their words right now.
He just wanted to listen to the solemn voice of Bruce Springsteen, who was coincidentally singing Independence Day of all things, a song which was strangely fitting to the circumstances that led Steve to be sitting alone in his car with packed bags.
It was about a son who was leaving his fatherâs home and felt far too relatable for Steve right now, bringing tears up to hold in the waterline of his eyes.
Steve just let himself weep, focusing on nothing but the heart-wrenching vocals of Springsteen, crying everything out in a freeing manner.
It felt like he was doing that for hours, listening to nothing but Springsteenâs voice on repeat, passing through the songs on his cassette tape over and over.
A knock interrupted that.
It took Steve away from the vocals, bringing his surroundings to the forefront of his mind.
âHey, heyâSteve?â
Steve looked out the window and saw Eddie, of all people. He did not expect that, though he didnât really expect to see anyone he knew tonight in the middle of the night.
He promptly rolled down the window. âEddie, hey,â Steve said, praying that the tear streaks on his face werenât visible in the moonlight. âHowâs it going?â
âNothing too bad, just smoking and didnât want to hotbox with Wayne sleepingâwait, is something wrong?â Eddie replied, cutting himself off, likely noticing Steveâs upset face that he was unable to hide.
Steve barked out a cracked laugh, almost croaking with how hysterical he sounded, âUhâuhm, yeah. Something is wrongâor well, maybe you could call it right, to be honest.â
âSteve?â Eddie said worryingly.
âItâsâitâs my parents, man,â Steve uttered out, âThey kicked me out, man.â
âFuck,â Eddie hissed out, clearly sympathetic.
âNah, itâs not as bad as youâre thinking,â Steve had to reassure Eddie, he didnât want him feeling too sympathetic for him; it was pathetic on Steveâs end. âIâve been expecting this to happen since I left school, walking on eggshells and saving money for the time itâd happen, and, well, it seems that itâs today.â
âItâs fucked up anyway, Steve,â Eddie said, âYour parents are assholes, man, and trust me, I know asshole parents.â
âItâs not that horrid,â Steve countered, âIt was always gonna happen and theyâd never connected with me so I donât feel like Iâm missing out on anything, except for their cash, I suppose. But, now that it did happen, I do feel a little affected, Iâll admit.â
âFuck them, youâre literally a monster hunter who saved the whole world from becoming some disastrous goo demonic dimension and theyâre kicking you out? Fucking bastards, youâre so much greater than whatever bullshit they want from you.â
âI think even if my dad knew that, heâd still complain about how I wasnât accepted to his Alma Mater,â Steve joked, smiling at Eddieâs attempt at uplifting him.
Eddie was looking at him with a focused stare, beginning to grin right back at Steve, âYeah, well, your dad is some elite-level asshole who doesnât understand the epic highs and lows of monster-battling, so fuck what he thinks.â
âYeah, fuck what he thinks,â Steve repeated Eddieâs words, smirking as he did so, imagining the look on his fatherâs face if he ever was to hear this uttered from Steveâs mouth.
Eddie laughed, âNow you got it!â
âYeah?â he glanced into Eddieâs eyes.
âFuck him, seriously!â Eddie reiterated, eyes lighting up in the moonlight.
Steve chuckled, finding Eddie so sweet. While he was never the sort of person heâd interact with in high school, Steve was glad that he got to know him, even if it was due to another round of monstrous shenanigans occurring.
He was such a good guy, nothing like Steve assumed heâd be.
Someone Steve never expected would worm his way into his heart.
Someone who made Steveâs heart speed up, his face reddening, and his hands clammy in a way never felt by him since he romanced Nancy back in '83.
âShitâwait!â Eddie blurted out, his beautiful brown eyes wide on display.
âHuh?â
âWhere are you gonna stay then? No more Harrington mansion for you,â Eddie replied, sounding quite worried on behalf of Steve.
âMy first thought was Robinâs, but sheâs out of town right now, so I was thinking I should get a hotel or something.â
âNo, Steve, those are pricey as fuck, you better room up with someone and save your money,â Eddie replied, âI had a place in the works to go ahead and rent, but Jeff caved into his parentâs and cancelled, decided to save and go college out of state, so Iâm stuck with Wayne in the trailerâif I had space, I swear Iâd offer it to you in an instant.â
âEddie.â Steve was blunt, having a moment of realisation.
âYeah?â
âYou have money saved, I have money saved,â he said, watching the moment of realisation on Eddieâs face. âYou want to move out of your uncleâs place, and Iâm now out of my parentsâ place, so why donât we come together and get that together?â
Eddieâs eyes were drilling into Steveâs own, full of incredulity, âSeriously?â You wanna move somewhere with me?â
âSure, why not?â Steve replied, âBetter to live with you than crawl back to my parents and stay in that lonely home.â
âThatâs not a home, a home is with the people you love,â Eddie remarked, âAnd I know this is a random decision, but I genuinely think itâd be funâand crazy as hellâto move in with you.â He laughed under his breath, âChrist, if my younger self could hear this now, me moving in with âThe Hairâ Harrington would blow his mind.â
âWell then, letâs make a home together,â Steve said. âI donât want to stay with people I donât love and who donât love meâIâd rather be with you, someone I do love.â
He didnât know why he said that. It was true, but it wasnât right to blurt it out like this.
It was impulsive, an awful thing to say right after asking to rent together, and Steve could only pray that he didnât fuck this plan up right after itâs conception.
âYâyou love me?â Eddieâs voice cracked out. âSteve, is this some joke, or am I right in getting my hopes up high?â
âIâfuck,â Steve responded, stumbling over his words right after he opened his cardoor to confess face-to-face with nothing obstructing them from each other. âI didnât exactly mean to say that right now, but it is true. I really do like you.â
It seemed Eddie was gearing up to respond, âNo fucking way, my younger selfâs mind really would be blown the fuck up!â Eddie kneeled below Steveâs open car door, almost eye-level with Steve in the car seat. He placed one hand on Steveâs knee, the other moving in, right as his whole body moved further, reaching into the car.
He grabbed Steve with his free hand, right on his throat, lunging straight in for a kiss.
It was ferocious, full of energy, powerful and needy.
Steve thought it was perfect.
He got into it, instinctively joining in with Eddie, entwining their tongues together with a strong fervour.
Suddenly, their lips broke apart. Eddie was now a few inches away from him.
âHowâs that for an answer?â Eddie quipped out, lips reddened up and upturned, clearly pleased at what had just happened.
âSo, Iâm guessing thatâs a yes,â Steve replied, having a smile of his own, along with red lips perfectly matching Eddieâs.
âGoddamn, it is a yes,â Eddie blurted out, âIâd love to move in with youâto make our own home, away from all shitheads of town, just to have our free space and Iâd just love to be with you.â
âThatâs perfect.â
âIt is?â
âBecause Iâd love to be with you as well.â
#steddie#steve x eddie#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington has bad parents#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddiebingo2025
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Star Wars really said "Anakin Skywalker had issues rooted in childhood trauma that was not his fault" but also "Anakin made his own choices as an adult for which he alone is responsible" but ALSO "In spite of the truly evil things he chose to do Anakin was still capable of being loved and redeemed" and I think that's important.
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I Am Chinese, English is not very good, said the English content is the use of the translator output, if there is no place to express inappropriate please forgive me!
Recently fell in love with Star Wars, for my favorite skywalker about a drawing.
I also like Obikin hhhhhhh
There is also a painting by obi-wan. The artist is drawing.
This is my personal invitation, please don't keep it by yourself.
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So everyone in Hawkins thinks that Steve tried to kill himself, right? Heâs got bruises around his neck that look a lot like they were made by rope and Steve canât exactly say that they were made by mutant hell bats, can he?
Steve hasnât had that realization yet and thinks everyone that comes into Family Videos is treating him with kid gloves because he has a concussion which, âCâmon, guys. Itâs not like this hasnât happened before.â
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