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lilacstarryskies · 4 hours ago

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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 all—and maybe, just maybe, he wants to. Also on AO3 [Here]

Eddie Munson has been waiting for weeks for this movie to come out.

It’s a low-budget horror flick with a cult following and a killer soundtrack. None of Eddie’s friends were available or particularly interested in going, but that’s fine, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He’s 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. It’s hard not to. He’s got that hair, that walk, the tiny moles on his face that make him look soft and a great body. The subject of Eddie’s most hopeless, pathetic high school crush. And of course, he’s not alone. There’s a girl on his arm, pretty in a polished, too perfect kind of way.

He watches, curious despite himself. Steve’s always been a bit of an enigma. Eddie’s 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 doesn’t match up with those stories at all.

Steve opens the door for the girl with a soft, “After you,” 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 doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, not even trailers yet, but Eddie’s already more interested in the Steve Harrington Show than whatever’s going to be on screen. He feels like he’s getting a sneak peek behind the scenes into Steve’s world and it’s 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 she’s not directly under the vent.

Surprisingly, Steve’s the perfect gentleman. He asks about her day, offers her popcorn, and laughs at a joke that leans more mean than funny—though Eddie catches the subtle flicker of discomfort in his posture when she’s not looking.

He compliments her hair and outfit, asks what kind of music she’s into, and even admits to liking '70s rock. It’s something Eddie never expected to hear from him but can’t help respecting. It’s the kind of detail that makes Eddie pause, realizing with a jolt that they might have a few songs in common. And that’s unexpectedly disarming.

Steve even double-checks if she’s sure she’s okay with horror movies, offering to see something else if she’s not.

“Why? Are you scared?” she teases.

“Terrified,” Steve replies with a grin. “But I figured if I screamed, you’d protect me.”

Eddie nearly chokes on a kernel of popcorn.

That was smooth. Like, actually smooth. It wasn’t cocky or rehearsed. It was playful and self-aware. The line showed Steve didn’t 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 he’s trying to solve a tricky riff. That line might’ve even worked on him. He’s always been a sucker for someone who knows how to be a little silly without losing sincerity.

“Huh,” 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 he’s paid to see.

But then the girl leans in, voice low and suggestive. “I didn’t expect you to take me on a date like this. When I said we should watch a movie, I thought we’d grab one from the rental store and watch it at your place. Or, you know… somewhere more private.”

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 doesn’t come.

“Oh,” Steve says, shoulders going stiff. He takes hold of her hand and moves it away from his chest but holds onto it gently. “I thought we could spend some time together. Get to know each other. This is just our first date, after all, right?”

“I guess.” The girl shrugs. “I just thought you were supposed to be into showing girls a good time. I’ve heard the rumors.”

Steve laughs, but it’s nervous. Hollow. His eyes flick toward the fire exit like he’s considering a tactical retreat.

“Yeah, uh… you don’t need to worry about that,” he says. “I was kind of a mess in junior year. I’ve learned a lot since then. Hookups were fun, sure, but they never really felt good after. I’d rather have something real now.”

“Hmm,” 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 it’s 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 it’s because he’s seen too many guys like Steve get away with being jerks. But here’s Steve, trying to be better, trying to be real, and this girl’s treating him like he’s 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. It’s 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 they’re 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 doesn’t snap. Doesn’t even push back. He just absorbs the impact of it. Smiles tightly. Tries to steer the conversation back to neutral ground. He’s patient, too patient. Like he’s used to this and he’s trying not to make a scene.

Eddie’s scowl deepens.

He doesn’t know why it’s bothering him so much. Maybe it’s because he expected Steve to be the problem. Expected him to be the shallow one. But instead, he’s watching Steve try—really try—to be kind, to connect and make something work. And this girl is steamrolling him like he’s not even there.

It’s 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.

“Oh wow, look at that,” she says, pointing down toward one of the lower rows. Her voice is just loud enough to carry. “I bet they think no one can see them because the lights are off.”

Eddie follows her gaze.

Two men. Sitting close. Hands intertwined.

Something drops in his stomach.

“Gross, right?” she laughs, looking at Steve for agreement.

The sound is sharp. Ugly. It cuts through the quiet like a knife.

Eddie freezes.

He doesn’t know those guys. Doesn’t need to. Because he knows that feeling. The one where you let yourself believe, just for a second, that you’re 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 doesn’t come.

Eddie cautiously opens his eyes.

Steve doesn’t say anything at first. But Eddie sees the way his shoulders have gone rigid, the way his head has dipped slightly, like he’s trying to disappear into the seat. And that’s when Eddie knows.

This isn’t just secondhand embarrassment. Her comment hit him somewhere deep.

The girl leans in again, not picking up on Steve’s body language silently screaming at her to stop, voice low but still audible. “I mean, it’s just weird, right? Why do they have to do that in public? It’s not like anyone wants to see it.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold.

Steve shifts. His hands curl into fists on his knees. Then, quietly but firmly, he says, “Shut up.”

The girl turns, startled. “Excuse me?”

“I said shut up,” Steve repeats, louder this time. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He watches the girl recoil, stunned, and then scoff like she’s the one who’s been wronged. “What crawled up your ass all of a sudden?”

“They’re just two people who like each other,” Steve says. “They’re trying to enjoy a date. How is that any of your business?”

Eddie’s breath catches.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stares at the back of Steve Harrington’s head like it’s 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. Eddie’s heart is pounding, but not from fear this time. It’s something else. Something warmer. Fiercer.

“Because it’s weird.” The girl doubles down,

“You wouldn’t think it was weird if it was those two people over there who were holding hands.” He gestures toward a man and woman sitting together near the front of the theatre.

“That’s different.”

Steve turns to her fully now, eyes sharp. “How?”

“Because it’s two men. It’s wrong. It’s disgusting,” she says. “I’d say the same if it were two women.”

Steve flinches hard, like he’s been physically hit.

There’s a beat of silence. Heavy. Final.

“I’m very close to someone who’s gay. And they’re smarter, kinder, funnier, and better than you’ll ever be,” Steve says, voice low and steady. “This date is over. Don’t bother calling me.” He goes to stand, but the girl shoves him back down and rises from her seat instead.

“You don’t get to walk out on me, I’m walking out on you,” she snaps. “I only came on this stupid date because I was bored, and I thought you’d wanna fool around like you supposedly do with all the other girls anyway. Turns out you’re a disappointment.”

She grabs her purse, mutters something under her breath, and storms out, heels clicking angrily against the floor.

Steve doesn’t watch her go. He just stares straight ahead, jaw tight, hands still clenched on his knees.

Eddie swallows hard.

He wants to say something. ‘Thank you for saying that,’ maybe. Or ‘that was brave’. Or even just ‘hey’. 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 Eddie’s 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 he’s trying to calm himself down. He seems tired now, defeated. Something about that doesn’t sit right with Eddie after what he just witnessed. It spurs him into action. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He just knows he can’t keep sitting there without saying something.

So, he stands. Walks down the steps. And stops at Steve’s row.

Steve hears the footsteps and looks up, startled. His expression flickers—confusion, then recognition, then something like wariness.

“Hey,” Eddie says, voice low. “Mind if I sit?”

His heart is hammering out a beat that would rival the work of the drummers in his favourite metal bands. He’s 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. “Uh… sure? Eddie, right?”

“That’s what all the legends call me,” Eddie confirms, dropping into the seat beside him. There’s a beat of silence. Then he turns to look at Steve and “You okay?”

Steve lets out a breath, a small smile appearing on his face. “Yeah. I mean, not really. But I will be.”

Eddie nods. He doesn’t push. Just lets the quiet settle for a moment. Then he says, “So that was a lot.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Not exactly how I pictured the night going. I assume you heard everything?”

“Yep. She sucked,” Eddie says bluntly.

Steve snorts. “Yeah. She really did.”

Another pause. Eddie shifts, glancing sideways at him. “You didn’t have to say anything,” he says. “But you did.”

Steve shrugs, but there’s tension in his shoulders. “Didn’t feel like a choice.”

“That’s kind of the point, though,” Eddie says. “Most people would’ve just let it slide. Pretended they didn’t hear it. You didn’t.”

Steve’s quiet for a second. Then he says, “I’ve let too much slide before. I’m not doing that anymore.”

Eddie studies him. There’s something in Steve’s voice, something tired, but solid. Like a line’s been drawn and he’s not stepping back from it. And Eddie feels that twist in his chest again. That strange, warm ache.

“I meant every word I said,” Steve adds, softer now. “I have a close friend, more like a platonic soulmate really, who’s gay and the best person I know." He looks wounded. “And hearing someone I put enough trust in to consider dating basically call that person gross and disgusting and wrong... I couldn’t just sit here and listen to that crap.” His fists clench. “It’s one thing if it’s me she’s saying those things about but-”

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.

He’s 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? He’s not supposed to know what that feels like.

Except he does.

Eddie nods slowly. “It’s okay. I figured.” He admits as casually as possible to try and ease Steve’s panic, although he’s still reeling over the events of the past few minutes. “You’re safe with me,” he promises.

Steve’s tense shoulders deflate, and glances at him curiously. “You?”

Eddie meets his eyes. “Yeah. Me.”

There’s no shock in Steve’s face. No judgment. Just a quiet kind of understanding.

“Cool,” Steve says. And he means it.

Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Then he grins, crooked and a little shy.

“You know,” he says, “you’re not what I expected.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re kind of a dork from the bits of conversation I overheard before things went bad.”

Steve laughs, and it’s real this time. “Takes one to know one.”

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. “Well, no sense in wasting my ticket,” he says, then he holds his popcorn bucket out to Eddie, who’s only just realised he left his behind. “Wanna share?”

Eddie grins and grabs a handful. “Thought you’d never ask.”

—————————

It’s the most fun Eddie’s had in a while.

Steve leans into his space every now and then, whispering snarky commentary about the characters’ 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, they’re trading quips like they’ve done this a hundred times before. At one point, one of them says something so ridiculous that they both dissolve into laughter. It’s the kind that’s 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 other’s eyes and grin, barely holding back another round of hysterics.

Steve nudges Eddie’s shoulder with his own, playful and warm.

Eddie nudges back.

If the small, friendly gesture sends goosebumps up his arms, well—that’s for Eddie to know and nobody else to find out.

Then, near the end of the film, the tension ramps up. The music swells. Eddie’s leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowed, when a sudden jumpscare hits and Steve gasps. Before Eddie can even register what’s happening, a larger, warmer hand grabs his.

Eddie freezes.

Not because he’s scared of the movie—though the jumpscare was decent—but because Steve Harrington is holding his hand.

Tightly.

Warm fingers wrapped around his own, palm pressed flush against his. It’s instinctive, a reflex, but Steve doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it at first.

Eddie doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. He’s not sure if it’s the shock or the fact that his heart is currently trying to beat its way out of his chest, but he’s rooted to the spot.

Then Steve seems to realize what he’s done. His grip loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he glances sideways, eyes wide, a little sheepish.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

Eddie turns his head slowly, meets his gaze. Steve’s face is flushed, his expression somewhere between embarrassed and apologetic. Eddie could make a joke. He could laugh it off, tease him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he gives Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You can hold on if you want.”

Steve blinks. His eyes search Eddie’s face for a moment, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. Then he smiles, small, grateful and a little shy. It warms Eddie to his very core.

He doesn’t 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 doesn’t even remember how the movie ends, but he remembers the way Steve’s thumb brushed lightly over his when the final girl shared a kiss with her love interest.

And he knows, without a doubt, that something’s changed and shifted between them. It’s something small, but at the same time monumental.

As the lights come up, Steve sighs. He gives Eddie’s hand one last squeeze before letting go and standing to stretch. Eddie’s hand falls to his lap, suddenly cold, and he stares at it for a second like it might still remember the shape of Steve’s fingers.

He already misses the warmth. The weight. The quiet reassurance of it.

“Did you drive here?” 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 that’s all Eddie had hoped for.

He hadn’t hoped for this, for Steve waiting for Eddie to stand too, still looking at him like he wants to keep talking.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says. “My van’s out back.”

Steve nods. “Cool. I parked a few rows over. You wanna walk out together?”

Eddie’s heart stutters. He stands slowly, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

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. “Thanks for sitting with me. I didn’t expect… well, any of this.”

Eddie shrugs, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, me neither. But I’m glad I did.”

Steve smiles back, and it’s that same small, shy one from earlier. It makes Eddie feel like he’s standing too close to a bonfire, especially now with the glow of the streetlights illuminating Steve’s 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, “Hey, uh… are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, slower this time, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Steve’s face lights up, just a little. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. It’s not fancy, but they’ve got decent fries and terrible coffee.”

“Sounds perfect. Lead the way, sweetheart.”

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 Steve’s just looking at him with that same soft smile. A little surprised, sure, but not upset. If anything, he looks… pleased?

“Sweetheart, huh?” Steve says, raising an eyebrow, but there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

Eddie lets out a breathy, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a reflex. I swear. I’ve called random people on the street ‘darlin’ and the guy working the counter at the gas station ‘babe’ before now.”

Steve hums, clearly amused. “Didn’t say I minded. But now I’m a little jealous of the guy at the gas station.”

Eddie blinks. “You didn’t? …You are?”

“Nope, not at all. And yeah, I am.” Steve starts walking, hands in his pockets, glancing back over his shoulder with an exaggerated pout. “Thought I might’ve been special for a second there.”

Eddie wants to kiss that look right off his face, but he reels that thought in fast. Steve’s probably just joking. Just sharing friendly banter with a guy he knows won’t hurt him for it. Who is Eddie to deny him that experience or make it awkward by assigning a deeper meaning to it?

“What can I say, Steve?” he shrugs. “The man sometimes gives me discounts on my favourite brand of cigarette. How can you compete with that?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly trying to stifle a smile. Eddie’s eyes lock on his mouth.

“I can think of a few ways,” Steve says, voice low, suggestive and just a little nervous as he sways into Eddie’s space. He gets close, so close Eddie’s stomach swoops.

Then a devilish grin curls at the corner of Steve’s lips.

“Last one to the diner pays.”

“Wha—” Eddie starts, dazed.

But Steve’s already taken off running, his laughter echoing behind him.

“Hey! That’s no fucking fair! You’re rich!” Eddie shouts, already breaking into a sprint.

Steve turns, running backward for a second just to flash him a grin. “Better catch up to me then!”

Eddie cackles, wild and breathless, as he chases after him. He sees the moment Steve realizes he’s gaining fast and the flicker of panic that crosses his face. Steve hadn’t 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 he’s 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 Eddie’s 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 can’t help but laugh too, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and giddy.

“You’re fast,” Steve says, glancing over his shoulder.

“You’re slow,” Eddie counters, grinning like he’s won the lottery.

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too. “You tackled me.”

“I redirected you,” Eddie says, mock-offended. “With grace.”

Steve turns in his grip, still holding onto Eddie’s arms, and they’re suddenly face to face. Close. Closer than they’ve been all night. The laughter fades into something quieter, softer.

Eddie’s eyes flick to Steve’s 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. “Guess we should, uh… go inside before they run out of terrible coffee.”

Steve nods, still smiling. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

————————

“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re basically a single parent to six?”

They’re sat in a booth in the back corner, chatting animatedly and occasionally stealing each other’s fries even though they got exactly the same thing. They’d foregone the crappy coffee for milkshakes though, Steve’s strawberry and Eddie’s chocolate.

“Seven if you count Erica, Lucas’ little sister,” Steve corrects him. “But jury’s still out on whether she’s actually a child or whether Lucas is just living with the consequences of feeding a mogwai after midnight.”

“God you are such a nerd,” Eddie laughs, delighted. “’Mogwai’? You didn’t even use the incorrect term - ‘gremlin’ - like most people would. You just went straight in there with ‘mogwai’.”

Steve grins, clearly pleased with himself. “What can I say? I take my pop culture references seriously.”

Eddie leans back in the booth, shaking his head with a smile. “You’re a walking contradiction, Steve. You look like you should be quarterbacking some all-American football team, but you talk like you’ve got the entire catalogue of Family Video memorised.”

Steve sips his milkshake, eyes twinkling. “Maybe I do.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Steve shrugs, all faux-casual. “You’ll have to hang out with me again to find out.”

Eddie’s caught off guard for a second, not by the words, but by the way Steve says them. Like it’s not a joke. Like he means it. Eddie, who’s spent most of his life waiting for the other shoe to drop, finds himself hoping just a little that maybe this time it won’t.

He smiles, softer now. “So, if you don’t 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?”

Steve leans back in the booth, fingers idly tracing the condensation on his milkshake glass.

“It’s a long story, but I guess I just got tired of pretending I wanted the same things I used to,” he says. “Back 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.”

Eddie watches him, the teasing gone from his expression.

“But somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t 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.”

He glances up, meets Eddie’s eyes. There’s something open in his expression. It’s unguarded, but cautious. Eddie’s heart does something strange in his chest, tightens and softens all at once. He reminds himself that shouldn’t 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. “Yeah. I get that.”

They share a soft, secret smile.

“So,” Steve says. “You like metal, right? I don’t think I’ve ever listened to that before. What do you like about it?”

It’s 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. Eddie’s eyes light up at the question, and he sits up a little straighter.

“Oh man, where do I even start?” he says, grinning. “Okay, so it’s loud, it’s chaotic. But it’s also honest. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. It’s raw and messy and emotional, and it doesn’t apologise for any of it.”

Steve watches him, chin propped on one hand, milkshake forgotten for the moment.

Eddie continues, more animated now. “And a lot of the songs are about overcoming adversity. About going through hell and somehow still fighting and persevering. It’s 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 it’s just noise but that’s so far from the truth. It takes so much talent and years of dedication and-”

He pauses, his eyes flicking to Steve’s, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling. “No, I like it. You talk about it like it’s more than just music.”

“It is,” Eddie shrugs, a little sheepish. “It kind of saved my life, y’know? 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.”

Steve’s expression softens. “That makes sense.”

There’s a beat of quiet between them, not awkward, just full. Like the air’s thick with things unsaid but understood. Then Steve leans forward, a playful glint in his eye. “So, if I wanted to dip my toe into the world of metal, where would I start? What’s, like, the gateway drug?”

“Really? You want to give up your metal virginity?”

“Didn’t have to put it like that,” Steve says, his face scrunching up in a way that’s far too cute to do anything good for Eddie’s heart.

“Okay, you’re coming over to my trailer as soon as possible and I’m going to play you some songs. I’m already mentally writing a list. This is gonna be so good.” Eddie laughs ecstatically and rubs his hands together deviously. “We’ll make a metalhead out of you yet, Steve.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Steve replies, his expression so open and honest that it gives Eddie pause.

Eddie’s demeanor turns softer. “You don’t have to like it though, y’know. I won’t be offended.”

“I know,” Steve meets his gaze, steady. “I want to understand the things that matter to you.”

Eddie’s caught off guard again. His heart does that weird fluttery thing, and he has to look away before he says something stupid.

“Cool,” he says, voice a little rough. “Yeah. Cool.”

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.

——————————

The bell chimes above their heads and a nice, middle-aged lady calls out a, “Thank you for coming, be sure to get home safe,” as Eddie holds the door open for Steve and they step back out into the cold night air.

Steve sidles up next to him. “Thank you for getting the door for me, Sweetheart,” he says, teasing.

Eddie groans loudly. “You are not going to let me forget about that, are you?"

“Never,” 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 it’s driving Eddie mad. All he would have to do is reach out a little and he could be holding Steve’s hand again. He isn’t able to summon the courage for that because he’s 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 doesn’t pull away. In fact, he lets his fingers linger just a second longer than before. Eddie’s heart stutters.

He swallows. “Hey, uh… you don’t 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.”

Steve looks over at him, eyes warm. “I’d love that.”

Eddie blinks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I want to see you in your element. I bet you look cool as hell on stage.”

Eddie laughs, a little breathless. “I mean, I do, obviously. But I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

They stop next to Eddie’s van. Neither of them moves to leave just yet.

Steve rocks on his heels. “Thanks for tonight. I had more fun than I probably had in years if I’m being honest.”

Eddie nods, his voice soft. “Yeah. Me too.”

There’s a pause. Neither of them moves.

Then Steve clears his throat and pulls one hand free, fishing around in his back pocket. “Before I forget,” He pulls out a pen and the crumpled diner receipt, scribbles something down, and hands it to Eddie. “My number. For whenever you want to hang out or just talk.”

Eddie takes it, fingers brushing Steve’s. He looks down at the messy scrawl of digits, then back up, heart thudding. “Thank you. I’ll definitely call you to set something up soon, and let you know as soon as I know when the next gig’s going to be.”

“Cool, I can’t wait,” Steve smiles.

He hesitates for a second, then steps a little closer, his gaze drifting to Eddie’s lips. “Also, I’ve been thinking about doing this all night.”

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. Steve’s lips brush against Eddie’s with a kind of reverence, like he’s afraid to push too far, too fast. But Eddie’s 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 Steve’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket like they’ve always belonged there. Steve’s hands hover for a moment before settling gently on Eddie’s shoulders, grounding them both.

The world fades. The cold night air, the hum of a distant streetlamp, the faint creak of the van’s metal frame, all of it disappears. It’s just them. Just this.

Steve tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and Eddie feels it like a spark down his spine. It’s still gentle, still careful, but there’s something more now. It’s something that says ‘I see you’ and ‘I want this’. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

When they finally part, it’s slow, reluctant. Steve’s eyes flutter open, and he looks at Eddie like he’s trying to memorize every detail of his face.

“Was that okay?” Steve asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie blinks, dazed, lips tingling, heart pounding. Then he grins, wide and a little breathless. “Yeah. Yeah, that was more than okay.”

Steve lets out a soft laugh, relief blooming across his face. “Good.”

They linger there, close enough to feel each other’s breath in the space between them. Steve leans in again, slower this time, and kisses him once more. It’s just as soft and just as sure. It’s the kind of kiss that says this isn’t a one-time thing.

“I’ll call you,” Eddie says, still smiling as they hesitantly move away from each other. “God, it might even be as soon as I get home after a kiss like that.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Steve replies, stepping back slowly, like he’s reluctant to go.

Eddie watches him walk away, heart pounding, fingers still curled around the scrap of paper like it’s something precious.

Steve turns back to face him and, he’s smiling, nervous, but genuine. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie’s frozen for a second, then grins, wide and a little dazed. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

They part ways, both of them feeling a little lighter than before.

#steddie

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lilacstarryskies · 5 days ago

Text

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

———————

“Fine!”

Steve strutted off, busted face and all, rushing up the garishly pristine stairs of his—well his parent’s home—ready 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 wasn’t 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 store’s showrooms, everything too polished and basic, seeming like an average teenage boy's room but with just a hint of something missing.

It was manufactured—fake, to put it simply.

Just like he was.

Though he’d 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 who’d 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.

Steve’s 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 parent’s 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 wanting—wanting his parents attention, wanting them to actually care for their son like all the parents did on the television shows he’d 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 ‘lax on the boy’ by good ol’ 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 jock’s room and his closet looked like the average Sears’ 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 ‘Upside-Down Crew’ 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 wasn’t 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 he’d taken since he was 16 with his small summer lifeguard gig upon being told to ‘be a man’ 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 parents’ 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 mother’s 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 it’d 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 he’d 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 car—thankfully 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 wasn’t 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 he’d 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 he’d only feel right with her helping him, which wasn’t 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 anger—or 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 he’d have to find an actual place to stay, some little hotel before he’d 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 didn’t 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 father’s actions, his hand to Steve’s face and harsh words.

And truthfully, Steve didn’t 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 father’s 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 Springsteen’s 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.

“Hey, hey—Steve?”

Steve looked out the window and saw Eddie, of all people. He did not expect that, though he didn’t really expect to see anyone he knew tonight in the middle of the night.

He promptly rolled down the window. “Eddie, hey,” Steve said, praying that the tear streaks on his face weren’t visible in the moonlight. “How’s it going?”

“Nothing too bad, just smoking and didn’t want to hotbox with Wayne sleeping—wait, is something wrong?” Eddie replied, cutting himself off, likely noticing Steve’s upset face that he was unable to hide.

Steve barked out a cracked laugh, almost croaking with how hysterical he sounded, “Uh—uhm, yeah. Something is wrong—or well, maybe you could call it right, to be honest.”

“Steve?” Eddie said worryingly.

“It’s—it’s my parents, man,” Steve uttered out, “They kicked me out, man.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, clearly sympathetic.

“Nah, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Steve had to reassure Eddie, he didn’t want him feeling too sympathetic for him; it was pathetic on Steve’s end. “I’ve been expecting this to happen since I left school, walking on eggshells and saving money for the time it’d happen, and, well, it seems that it’s today.”

“It’s fucked up anyway, Steve,” Eddie said, “Your parents are assholes, man, and trust me, I know asshole parents.”

“It’s not that horrid,” Steve countered, “It was always gonna happen and they’d never connected with me so I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything, except for their cash, I suppose. But, now that it did happen, I do feel a little affected, I’ll admit.”

“Fuck them, you’re literally a monster hunter who saved the whole world from becoming some disastrous goo demonic dimension and they’re kicking you out? Fucking bastards, you’re so much greater than whatever bullshit they want from you.”

“I think even if my dad knew that, he’d still complain about how I wasn’t accepted to his Alma Mater,” Steve joked, smiling at Eddie’s attempt at uplifting him.

Eddie was looking at him with a focused stare, beginning to grin right back at Steve, “Yeah, well, your dad is some elite-level asshole who doesn’t understand the epic highs and lows of monster-battling, so fuck what he thinks.”

“Yeah, fuck what he thinks,” Steve repeated Eddie’s words, smirking as he did so, imagining the look on his father’s face if he ever was to hear this uttered from Steve’s mouth.

Eddie laughed, “Now you got it!”

“Yeah?” he glanced into Eddie’s eyes.

“Fuck him, seriously!” Eddie reiterated, eyes lighting up in the moonlight.

Steve chuckled, finding Eddie so sweet. While he was never the sort of person he’d 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 he’d be.

Someone Steve never expected would worm his way into his heart.

Someone who made Steve’s heart speed up, his face reddening, and his hands clammy in a way never felt by him since he romanced Nancy back in '83.

“Shit—wait!” Eddie blurted out, his beautiful brown eyes wide on display.

“Huh?”

“Where are you gonna stay then? No more Harrington mansion for you,” Eddie replied, sounding quite worried on behalf of Steve.

“My first thought was Robin’s, but she’s out of town right now, so I was thinking I should get a hotel or something.”

“No, Steve, those are pricey as fuck, you better room up with someone and save your money,” Eddie replied, “I had a place in the works to go ahead and rent, but Jeff caved into his parent’s and cancelled, decided to save and go college out of state, so I’m stuck with Wayne in the trailer—if I had space, I swear I’d offer it to you in an instant.”

“Eddie.” Steve was blunt, having a moment of realisation.

“Yeah?”

“You have money saved, I have money saved,” he said, watching the moment of realisation on Eddie’s face. “You want to move out of your uncle’s place, and I’m now out of my parents’ place, so why don’t we come together and get that together?”

Eddie’s eyes were drilling into Steve’s own, full of incredulity, “Seriously?” You wanna move somewhere with me?”

“Sure, why not?” Steve replied, “Better to live with you than crawl back to my parents and stay in that lonely home.”

“That’s not a home, a home is with the people you love,” Eddie remarked, “And I know this is a random decision, but I genuinely think it’d be fun—and crazy as hell—to move in with you.” He laughed under his breath, “Christ, if my younger self could hear this now, me moving in with ‘The Hair’ Harrington would blow his mind.”

“Well then, let’s make a home together,” Steve said. “I don’t want to stay with people I don’t love and who don’t love me—I’d rather be with you, someone I do love.”

He didn’t know why he said that. It was true, but it wasn’t 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 didn’t fuck this plan up right after it’s conception.

“Y—you love me?” Eddie’s voice cracked out. “Steve, is this some joke, or am I right in getting my hopes up high?”

“I—fuck,” Steve responded, stumbling over his words right after he opened his cardoor to confess face-to-face with nothing obstructing them from each other. “I didn’t exactly mean to say that right now, but it is true. I really do like you.”

It seemed Eddie was gearing up to respond, “No fucking way, my younger self’s mind really would be blown the fuck up!” Eddie kneeled below Steve’s open car door, almost eye-level with Steve in the car seat. He placed one hand on Steve’s 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.

“How’s that for an answer?” Eddie quipped out, lips reddened up and upturned, clearly pleased at what had just happened.

“So, I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Steve replied, having a smile of his own, along with red lips perfectly matching Eddie’s.

“Goddamn, it is a yes,” Eddie blurted out, “I’d love to move in with you—to make our own home, away from all shitheads of town, just to have our free space and I’d just love to be with you.”

“That’s perfect.”

“It is?”

“Because I’d love to be with you as well.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington has bad parents #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddiebingo2025

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