livwritesstuff

[livwritesstuff]

Steddie modern au where Eddie uses the dms of famous actor Steve Harrington to save posts that he likes because "This is waaay easier than searching for them in the saved posts" "It's literally not" and anyway "it's not like he sees them, he probably has like a media guy that does it"

It's all good and fine for months, just a string of unanswered memes and videos until

Steve.hrrgtn: Dude, you just made me laugh in the middle of a table reading

Batking: Why are you looking at your phone in the middle of a table reading

Steve.hrrgtn: New season boring af

[livwritesstuff]

high and lonesome

a late 4/20 fic | read on AO3 | 5700 words | Rated M

tags: weed, paranoia, getting together, first date + kiss, sharing a bed

Eddie starts smoking a lot of weed when he gets out of the hospital. Not that he didn’t before, but he smokes a lot more now than he did before the hospital and everything that put him there. 

It helps with the pain, of course. And he just likes it. Sue him. 

Well, he used to like it a lot more than he does now. Now that he knows monsters are real and shit, the subtle paranoia he always got before has ramped up to, like, two hundred percent. Only when he’s too high, which is good. He tends to know his limits except for when he doesn’t, except for when he gets a really good batch that hits him a little too hard, except for when he decides to ignore all his limits in favor of getting so fucked up he can’t move. 

It helps with the pain. That’s what matters.

Except now it’s dark out and Eddie keeps hearing shit outside and he’s so high he’s convincing himself there’s something interdimensional out there even if he knows there isn’t. He wishes he had a big guard dog, maybe he could find a stray and bring it home. Wayne probably wouldn’t mind Eddie having a little protection when he’s home alone at night. Now that the whole town wants him dead, even if the Hawkins Post cleared his name two months ago. 

Yeah, he’ll get a dog one of these days. Train it to bark at everyone except him and Wayne and maybe the kids, and okay the dog can like Steve, too. But only because Eddie likes Steve. 

Eddie really likes Steve. It would be wrong to make his dog bark at him. 

There’s another crash outside and Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest, and his entire body jumps off the couch, and he knows it’s just a raccoon trying to get into his neighbors’ trash because Eddie’s seen the creature out there every night this week, and in fact just saw it while he was sitting on the step soaking up the pleasant night breeze while he smoked the last couple puffs that put him in too fucking much territory. 

It still scares the shit out of him when he hears it, even if he knows it’s out there, that’s all he’s saying. 

If he had a dog, it would scare the raccoon away. 

Or maybe his dog would get rabies. 

That would fucking suck. 

Eddie knows how rough rabies shots are. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, and certainly not his imaginary dog who protects him from the things that lurk outside. 

And now he’s thinking about the shit that lurks outside, and he really needs this high to subside a bit so he can think about this a little more rationally. Except rationality goes out the window when monsters are fucking real and Eddie almost died because of them. 

Fuck. 

He’s gotta call someone before he crawls out of his skin. 

It’s getting kind of late which means his options are pretty limited. Most of his friends live with their parents and don’t have their own phone lines. He could probably get away with calling Nancy, but she’s got a lot going on these days and Eddie knows she needs her sleep. He could run across the trailer park and tap on Ronnie’s window since she’s home for the summer, but he’s honestly too scared to go outside right now, and he’s not calling and waking up Granny Ecker at this hour, so Ronnie’s a bust, too. 

That pretty much just leaves Steve. 

Steve, whose parents aren’t home most nights, and Steve would has a direct phone line right to his bedroom, but also Steve, who Eddie’s been kind of avoiding since he got out of the hospital because he likes Steve just a little too much in a way that freaks him out because he knows every time he sees Steve it gets worse and worse, and right now he’s so fucking stoned he’s not sure he won’t just spill his guts to the guy if he calls him. 

But Eddie’s too fucking scared not to call him. 

He makes a point to reread Steve’s phone number five times before he attempts to punch it in, and then because his head isn’t on right, he hangs up halfway through another three times because he thinks he’s gotten it wrong. Chances are, he’s got it right every time, but he isn’t confident until try number four. 

“Hello?”

Steve’s voice is clear on the other end, which takes Eddie by surprise because he thought for sure Steve would be sleeping at this hour. He sounds wide awake, though, almost like a midnight call is super normal and expected. 

“Uh,” Eddie says. “Hey, Harrington. It’s —”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve says. “What’s going on, man?”

“Sorry for calling so late.”

Eddie rests his forehead against the wall next to the phone and takes a breath. He’s too aware of how he’s breathing right now, of the way the plastic of the phone feels under his fingers, too aware of the way his teeth feel in his mouth. 

“No, it’s alright. I was up. You okay?”

“Hm,” Eddie grunts. Neither a yes or a no. 

“Gonna need more than that.”

“Yeah, no, yeah. I’m… I’m alright. Nothing, uh, life threatening, or anything. Just… Needed to talk to someone. You said if I needed — well, I know it was a while ago, but you said I could call.”

He doesn’t really wanna tell Steve why. Like, how embarrassing that the town dealer can’t handle his own pot, you know? But he can’t risk Steve hanging up right now, and he needs to say something, and needing someone feels embarrassing to admit, too, but Eddie tells himself it’s better than the alternative. 

“No, yeah, of course, Eddie. Do you wanna come over?” Steve asks. “I get it, man. You can come over if that’ll help.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, gripping the phone a little bit tighter. “No, nah. I, uh, no. Can’t really drive right now.”

He feels like he could fuck up getting a glass of water right now. Getting behind the wheel like this would probably result in someone dying. If he felt like he could make it outside in the first place. 

“Oh,” Steve says softly. “That’s okay, man. Did you want me to come over instead?”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Steve says. “I’ll come by, alright? Will you be okay for, like, ten minutes?”

Eddie nods before realizing Steve can’t see him through the phone. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

He hangs up and heads down the hall to his bedroom. The floor is a mess, covered in dirty clothes and empty beer cans. He should clean up, but he knows he isn’t going to make much of a dent in this state. 

He sits down on his bed and starts picking up the underwear and dirty socks scattered around at his feet. They nearly make it to the laundry basket when he tosses them, but he doesn’t make any attempt to adjust his aim. 

It’s hard to tell how long he sits there trying to think of what needs to go in the laundry basket and what needs to be thrown in the garbage. This should be easy, even when Eddie’s smoked a little too much, but he’s so far gone he would rather just not think at all. Not thinking at all seems like the best course of action.

By the time he hears Steve’s tires on the gravel outside, he’s barely made any progress on his bedroom. Maybe Steve will be fine sitting on the couch in the living room instead of hanging out in Eddie’s bedroom. Eddie doesn’t even know why he automatically assumed Steve would want to be in his bedroom at all. 

Steve lets himself in, and Eddie realizes it’s probably a really bad idea to keep the front door unlocked when he’s like this. Anyone could come in and do anything they want to him, and if they were trying to hurt him, he’d probably get no warning either. At least Steve announces himself when he comes in, calls out Eddie’s name and makes some noise shutting the door again. 

“In here,” Eddie calls back, but Steve probably already guessed that.

He shows up in Eddie’s doorway a second later. 

“Hey, man,” Steve says, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. 

It’s dark in Eddie’s room, but light in the hallway, so when Eddie looks up, he can barely make out the look on Steve’s face. He might be smiling, or maybe grimacing over the mess in Eddie’s room. It’s hard to tell. 

Steve doesn’t turn on the light.

“You hungry?” Steve asks. 

Eddie thinks for a second and then nods. 

“Let’s go to the diner.”

“Oh, uh.”

He doesn’t think he should leave if he’s being perfectly honest. It feels like he’s wearing a sign on his forehead that says “I’M HIGH OFF ILLEGAL SUBSTANCES, PLEASE CALL THE COPS ON ME,” so he doesn’t really know if going to the diner is the best idea. 

“It’s alright,” Steve says. “My treat.”

Which isn’t what Eddie was worried about even if he doesn’t have more than a couple dollars in his wallet right now, but he doesn’t think Steve would understand if he explains his problem, so he just nods instead. 

“Let me, um,” Eddie starts, looking around his room. ��Shoes.”

“Your white ones? They’re by the front door. I’ll go get them, okay?”

“Okay, but—”

“It’s alright, man,” Steve says again. 

“Steve,” Eddie tries. “I’m really high.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. 

With that squared away, Eddie feels a little bit better about the whole thing. 

“I’ll get your shoes, you just take a minute,” Steve says, then he turns and leaves Eddie’s room again. 

Eddie takes a minute to breathe, like pulling normal air into his lungs will replace everything he smoked and take him down a few notches. In the end, he doesn’t feel any less stoned, but Steve returns with his shoes in his hand and Eddie has to focus on putting them on his feet.

Without asking, Steve squats down and starts tying them for Eddie. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Eddie mutters.

“I know,” Steve says, moving on to the other one. “Just let me help you out, okay?”

So Eddie lets him and then accepts the hand Steve offers to pull him up off the bed. 

Outside, Eddie scans the immediate area for any signs of the raccoon, and even when he doesn’t see it, he walks to the car as quickly as possible. He doesn’t even consider the raccoon could’ve been hiding under his stairs waiting to swipe at his ankles until after he’s safe in the car.

As Steve drives, Eddie feels like he’s still getting higher, like those last puffs are just now kicking in after he was already too high. Maybe it’s all in his head.

He knows, realistically, that this won’t last forever, but it doesn’t feel like the end is in sight. He should have just gone to bed as soon as it got too scary for him, shouldn’t have called Steve in the middle of the night, or should’ve told him not to come over at all. 

“C’mon,” Steve says when they’re parked. “There’s nobody here.”

Eddie’s surprised to see Jonathan Byers in uniform when they walk in. He seems to be the only employee on the front end of the diner, but Eddie can hear music and voices in the kitchen. Steve’s right, there’s no one else dining right now. It makes it a lot easier for Eddie to feel comfortable, to ease his worries about someone figuring out what’s wrong with him. 

He must’ve known Jonathan was working tonight and picked this place because obviously Byers isn’t gonna care that Eddie is blasted out of his mind. 

“Hey,” Jonathan says when they come in. He throws the towel he was using to wipe down a table over his shoulder and gets them a couple menus from the host stand. “Booth or counter?”

“We’ll take a booth, man, thanks,” Steve says before Eddie can even process the question. 

Jonathan brings them over to the booth he just finished wiping down, and sets their menus on opposite sides of the table.

The old booth upholstery has seen better days and Eddie picks the side with less cracks in it, knowing the chain on his wallet will catch and stick in one of the holes. He’s too high to even think about detaching himself if it comes down to it. 

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” Jonathan asks.

“Water,” Eddie mumbles, resting his head against the window while Steve messes with the jukebox on the table. 

“I’ll take a Coke, thanks,” Steve answers. “Ed, you sure you don’t want a pop?”

“Water.”

“If you change your mind, just wave me down,” Jonathan says. 

It’s only been a few months since the Byers got back to town, but Jonathan already has a job. Eddie’s been applying to places ever since he quit the Hideout two years ago, and none of the places have even bothered calling back. He knows why — he’s accepted it, but that doesn’t completely tamp down the bitterness in his throat over it. 

He picks up the menu on the table instead. 

“I can’t even think about this,” Eddie mumbles to himself. 

“Doing okay?” Steve asks. 

Eddie grunts in response and nods once. He just needs some water and then he’ll be able to think about this menu and what he wants to eat. 

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks. “Breakfast or burger? They have the full menu all the time.”

“Yes,” Eddie agrees. “I mean — uh.”

Steve chuckles across the table. “Get both if you want.”

Eddie sinks a bit in his seat, feeling a little embarrassed over the entire thing. All of it, from getting too high, to calling Steve, to needing help tying his shoes like he’s a little kid, to this — Steve’s kindness and understanding.

He doesn’t want to feel this way, like he’s some idiot that needs caring for just because he can't handle his pot like he used to. 

A hand covers his on top of his menu, and Eddie glances up, across the table, to see the softest, kindest eyes he’s ever seen in his life. A light smile, something reassuring and not at all patronizing, like maybe Steve just really wants to be helpful. 

“Get whatever you want, Ed.”

So Eddie nods and focuses a little bit harder on the menu, so by the time Jonathan comes back with his water, he’s able to order. 

“Can I do a cheeseburger? And maybe, like… a side of scrambled eggs. But not, like, instead of fries. I want eggs and fries. And bacon,” Eddie says. “And bacon on the burger, too.”

Jonathan snorts and writes it all down, then takes Steve’s order.

“Hey, man, do you have anything on you?” Jonathan asks before he leaves to give the order to the kitchen.

Eddie shakes his head. “Come by Forest Hills after your shift, though.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Steve says when Jonathan leaves. “I was getting pretty hungry. Thought about coming here by myself, even.”

That could be a lie, but Steve says it so earnestly, Eddie just has to believe him. He starts to feel a little bit better about it.

Eddie drinks all of his water before the food comes, and then asks for a cup of coffee and another water. He pours more sugar in the coffee than probably necessary, but Steve doesn’t say anything about it. 

The meal might be the best thing he’s ever eaten in his life. 

Steve gives him a piece of his sausage in exchange for a piece of bacon, and Eddie wishes he ordered a side of that, too. 

When Jonathan brings them the check, Steve doesn’t let Eddie see it and refuses his offer to pay for his half. Eddie thinks he’ll figure out a way to pay Steve back for it, maybe by washing his car, or cleaning the leaves out of his pool, or maybe he’ll send Steve home with a joint or two after he drops him off. 

On the drive back, Eddie feels a lot more like himself than he did on the drive there. He feels stupid for needing to call Steve. It’s not like he’s never been too high before, and he’s handled it just fine in the past. 

It’s just different now. 

And he hasn’t seen Steve more than a few times since everything happened, and okay, so maybe he missed the guy a little bit. This is nice, having a midnight diner run with a friend. It’s been a while since he’s had this and it reminds him of late nights with his band after they finish a show. He did this with Ronnie a lot, the few times they made enough money at a gig to get dinner afterwards. 

Something about sitting in a booth with cracked upholstery for hours while he sips shitty coffee and smokes too many cigarettes — it’s these nights that he knows he’ll look back on when he’s fifty. 

He just hopes that when he looks back, Steve’s still in his life. And a stupid, pathetic part of him hopes it’s because Steve has a big fat crush on him, like the one Eddie has on Steve. That stupid, lovesick part of him hopes they spend their lives together and think about this as one of their first dates, and look back at it and laugh over Eddie being too stoned to say more than five words the entire time. 

If he can’t have that thirty years down the line, though, he’ll settle for this night going on just a little while longer. 

“Still doing okay?” Steve asks. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answers. He tries to clear some of the creeping dryness out of his throat. “Can you, uh, stop at the gas station by me, maybe?”

“Sure thing.”

As soon as the car stops in front of the gas station, Eddie realizes this might have been a bad idea. His legs don’t quite feel right, and he thinks if he gets out of the car he’ll walk funny and make a fool of himself. And that’s not even considering how he’ll act when he actually gets inside and has to make a decision about what he wants or when he has to count his money at the counter. 

“Sorry, I—” Eddie starts. “Never mind, I don’t really need anything.”

“Hey,” Steve says softly. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m just,” Eddie groans. “Still not feeling right.”

“What do you want? I’ll go in,” Steve says. 

“No, that’s okay. You can just take me home.”

“Well, I need cigarettes, so.”

And then Steve gets out of the car, leaving Eddie alone in the deserted parking lot. 

Eddie quickly gets out and follows him in, not wanting to be alone in the middle of the night so close to the woods. He finds Steve standing in front of the drink case, hands on his hips while he looks over all the options. 

“Cans of pop are discounted if you get two,” Steve says. “But I’ll probably only drink one, so…”

“I—”

“You might as well get one,” Steve adds. “I was thinking about a big bag of chips, too, did you want some?” 

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, a little reluctant. 

Steve seems to be on a mission, and Eddie doesn’t want to get in the way of it. 

He does put cash on the counter for his own stuff when they get up there, not wanting to make Steve pay for everything tonight. He gets a pack of cigarettes, too, watching as the cashier bags everything up into one bag for the both of them. 

“Do you wanna, like, hang out?” Eddie asks when they make it back to the trailer park. “I just… It’s hard being here at night. And I’m pretty sure if you leave, I’m just gonna start smoking again, and I think I’ll just freak myself out all over again, so, if you wanna stay and hang out, you know… You don’t have to, though. If you’re busy, or whatever. I know I called you out of the blue.”

“Yeah, I’ll hang out,” Steve says easily. “Might fall asleep on you, though. Haven’t, uh, been sleeping great lately, so.”

“Hey, if you’re tired, just drop me off, it’s cool, dude, go get some sleep.”

“No, man, that’s not — I mean, I have a hard time being alone, too. That’s all I’m saying. It’s always easier, in my experience — at least — to, you know, fall asleep with someone else breathing in the room.”

“Alright,” Eddie says. He won’t argue with that. “Just, you know, Wayne’ll get home in a few hours and he sleeps on the pull out in the living room, so you’ll have to bunk with me. And my bed’s not all that big, so I hope you don’t mind the inevitability of me kicking you in my sleep.”

Steve snorts. “I think we can make it work.”

The thing is, now that Eddie’s not so fucked up, he remembers he set out some magazines before he smoked. thinking he’d get just high enough that jerking off feels like the best thing in the entire world. That means there’s gay porn sitting on his nightstand when they make it into his bedroom, and Steve sees it before Eddie can shove it back under his mattress. 

“Um,” Eddie says, feeling caught. 

“It’s all good, man,” Steve says. Like it’s really just all good. Like it’s not proof Eddie’s a faggot freak who likes muscly men in jockstraps. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Which, right, because Steve’s pretty muscly, and probably has his fair share of jockstraps, being an athlete and all that, which honestly makes the whole situation a million times worse. 

“If you wanna leave now, I get it,” Eddie says. 

“Huh? No, dude, I’m — I mean, me too, you know?”

“You too?” 

What?

“I’m, like,” Steve says, waving his hand vaguely like the words will just present themselves. “I’m into… That. Men. Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“So, I’m not weirded out, or anything.”

They just stand there looking at each other, and Eddie can’t help but notice the pink rising in Steve’s cheeks over it all, and Eddie can’t even say anything because he’s been bright red since he realized what was sitting out in the open, so. 

So. 

“Cool,” he says. “That’s cool, man. Thanks for, uh, telling me, and all of that. I won’t — I mean, obviously I won’t tell anyone, you know? And I mean, I — People already think they know about me, but don’t, I mean. I don’t want them to actually know, so—”

“I won’t tell anyone, either,” Steve promises. “C’mon, let’s…”

He toes off his shoes and unzips his jacket, laying it carefully over Eddie’s vest on his desk chair.

“Shoes off,” Steve tells him before squatting down to start untying them for Eddie. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to,” Steve says. “Just let me help you out, Eddie. You’re still baked.”

“Not that bad anymore,” Eddie mumbles. 

But he lets Steve do it, and then lets him slide his hands under the opening of Eddie’s leather jacket, slipping it over his shoulders.Steve’s practically undressing him after saying he likes guys, too, and it’s — fuck, it’s weird, but not at all unwelcome.

“Do you sleep in your jeans?” Steve asks after laying Eddie’s jacket over his own. 

“Boxers, usually, but, um,” Eddie starts. “I have pajama pants I can put on since, y’know.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable in. Could I borrow some pants?”

Eddie nods and goes to his dresser, rifling through the drawers of clothes he doesn’t wear too often anymore. There’s a pair of sweats at the bottom of one that should fit Steve, so he tosses them over, and starts to look for something for himself. 

“Hey, man, if you sleep in your underwear, I’m not gonna be weird about it,” Steve says as he drops his jeans to the floor. 

Eddie tries not to look, but he does anyway. Clad in just a polo and a pair of tighty whiteys, Steve looks like all of Eddie’s fantasies. He shakes the thoughts away and goes back to his mission. He needs another layer between them so it’s harder to feel his dick when he inevitably chubs up laying beside Steve. 

“It gets kind of cold in here,” Eddie lies. 

It’s the middle of July.

“Okay,” Steve says instead of calling him on it. 

The air between them has shifted considerably, and now that Eddie’s sobering up, he doesn’t even have the excuse of being high to explain why he’s acting so weird. It’s not every day the guy you’ve been fantasizing about for as long as you can remember shows up wanting to borrow your clothes and share a bed with you. Eddie is entirely out of his depth here. 

“Do you want some?” Eddie asks, holding up a baggy of bud and a couple joints he rolled earlier. 

“I don’t think you should have more,” Steve says carefully. 

“I’m coming down a little too fast,” Eddie says. “Just need… Like three hits to sleep.”

Steve eyes him for a second and then nods. 

“Okay, just… Just a little for me, too, then,” he agrees. 

And that’s how he ends up with Steve Harrington high and giggly in his bed as they laugh about… Something. Eddie can’t remember now that he’s staring at Steve’s lips, now that he’s taking another puff of the joint Steve’s smoking most of. He passes it, watches as Steve brings it to his mouth, pinched between two long fingers, and oh fuck, Eddie’s gotta look away before he does something stupid, but he can’t. 

“You good?” Steve asks with a little laughter in his words. A beautiful smile on his lips as he takes another puff. Smoke swirls in the air between them. Oh wow, they’re a lot closer than Eddie realized. 

“Mhm.”

“This stuff’s good,” Steve says, giving it back. 

“Mhm,” Eddie agrees, handing it back without smoking any more. “I think, uh. I’ve probably had enough for now, though. Finish it if you want.”

He probably shouldn’t have lit this one up to begin with. He doesn't know how to act while he’s this close to Steve. 

“Mhm,” Steve parrots after another small hit. He hands it back. “Me too, put it out.”

Eddie has to reach over Steve’s body to put it in the ashtray and Steve shifts to give him more room, but then when Eddie comes back, Steve shifts again. He slips his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, giving him no choice but to press in close. 

“I’m glad you called me,” Steve says when Eddie’s settled against him. 

He feels so warm, cheeks heating up awfully quick over the position they’re in. 

Steve’s fingers are playing with the ends of his hair, brushing against Eddie’s back with little electrifying grazes. 

“Shit,” Eddie breathes to himself. 

This is not happening. He’s dreaming this. His shit was laced and it’s all a hallucination. 

But god, it feels so real. It has to be real. It just doesn’t make any sense. 

“You okay?” Steve asks softly, tilting his head so it rests against Eddie’s. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “You’re killing me, though.”

Steve hums in response, just a little hm, of acknowledgment. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Steve says again. “Been wanting to see you, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Wasn’t sure about what?” 

Steve shrugs. “Just didn’t think you wanted to be friends, you know? I wasn’t the greatest guy back in high school. My friends were really mean to you. Just thought, you know, maybe we save the world once in a while, and never see each other in between. I don’t know.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Toosh.”

“It’s touché,” Eddie snorts. 

“Whatever. Yeah, that.” 

Eddie presses his laughter into Steve’s neck, letting his hand find a place on Steve’s stomach. 

“So we’re both kind of stupid,” Eddie says. “If we wanted to be friends and neither of us called, I mean.”

“Can I be honest? Like, don’t be weird about it if you don’t… I mean,” Steve starts. 

“Yeah, anything. I mean, you saw my porn, dude, I think we’re past being weird about things.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve says. “It’s… I mean, honestly? If I’m being completely honest, I didn’t really want to be friends, I…”

Where the hell could this even be going? Surely not where Eddie wants it to go. 

“When I said I’m into guys sometimes, I meant,” Steve continues, and Eddie holds his breath. “And just so you know, this isn’t just the weed talking, to be perfectly clear. I feel this way when I’m not high, okay? I just happen to be right now while I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Please just tell me. 

“I really want to kiss you.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. 

“But if you don’t feel the same, just tell me, okay? I won’t be mad. I know not all gay guys like every guy in the world, so I get it if you don’t.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’d let you kiss me.”

Steve slides down on the bed, no longer propped up against the wall and the pillows, but now laying on his side facing Eddie. He leans forward, just a little bit, hesitant like he isn’t quite sure Eddie wants this. 

At Eddie’s slight nod, Steve’s eyes slip shut and he moves closer again, nose nudging against Eddie’s, foreheads bumping, but not their lips. Not yet. Eddie just stays where he is, letting Steve lead into this with soft, hesitant bumps of their noses. He wonders if Steve’s ever hesitant like this with anyone else, he wonders if Steve’s as nervous as Eddie is right now. 

“You sure?” Steve breathes against his lips. “If you’re not sure, just tell me, we can table this for another time.”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, a hint of a whine working its way up his throat. “Please.” 

And Steve kisses him, just barely at first, like he’s waiting for Eddie to pull away, but Eddie doesn’t. He won’t. Not even as Steve creates a breath of space between them, his heavy eyelids opening so they can look at each other in the dim lamplight. 

“Eddie,” he breathes like he just can’t believe they’re here. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

And then Steve kisses him again, one hand coming up to brush Eddie’s hair from his face, tucking it tenderly behind his ear as he does it. Steve tastes like weed, but then Eddie does too, and that makes him laugh into Steve’s mouth, just a little chuckle that has Steve pulling away to look at him with confusion furrowing his brow. 

“I’m just happy right now,” Eddie whispers. 

Steve swipes his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, pressing down on the scar that cuts through the middle of it, following the line down and to the left side of Eddie’s jaw. Another press of lips to his, slotting them together once more. It’s not gonna go much further than this, Eddie can tell, but it’s nice. 

“Me too,” Steve whispers. “Are you still gonna be happy in the morning?”

There is no world in which Eddie wouldn’t be happy about kissing Steve Harrington. 

He nods. Steve smiles, pressing it into Eddie’s cheek. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Steve says again. “Not scared anymore, are you?”

“No,” Eddie answers. “I feel good.”

“Me too,” Steve agrees. 

“Sleepy, though,” Eddie admits. 

He knows Steve is feeling the same way, the way his eyes flutter shut and open slower after each blink. 

“You should sleep,” Steve tells him, nosing at his face again before stealing another kiss. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Eddie asks. 

Because Steve can say he’s wanted this, he can say it’s not the weed talking, he can ask Eddie if he’ll still be happy in the morning. But none of that means Steve will actually stick around. Eddie’s been hurt too many times by too many people leaving to not worry.

“I’ll be here. Promise.”

“I’m glad I called, too. Just to be clear,” Eddie tells him. 

It earns him another soft kiss, and then Steve’s rolling away. 

“Where’re you going?”

“Thirsty.”

He gets their drinks and the chips from the gas station bag, and passes Eddie’s Mountain Dew over to him before cracking open his can of Coke. 

Eddie has a few sips of his and has to reach over Steve to put it on his nightstand. Fingers curl around his wrist as he draws it back, and Steve tugs him in close again. 

He feels heavy and light all at once, letting himself be moved to Steve’s liking. He ends up with his head on Steve’s chest, Steve playing with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. It’s like they do this all the time, like this isn’t the first time they’ve really hung out post-Vecna. 

It’s easy. 

Maybe that’s why Eddie called Steve in the first place. He makes everything feel a little bit easier, the way he just knows what to do for the people around them. Like getting someone their shoes and paying for their dinner is just second nature to him. 

Steve plays with Eddie’s rings until Eddie can’t stay awake any longer, and maybe he keeps going after Eddie slips away into sleep. If Byers stops by looking to buy, Eddie sleeps right through it. He only wakes briefly when Steve shifts out from under him and comes back a few minutes later, hands smelling like the soap from the bathroom. 

He feels the kiss Steve presses into his hair, smiling to himself in his high-induced sleepy haze as Steve curls up around him again. 

[livwritesstuff]

The first thing Eddie does when he’s done bringing Moe and her friends to the movies and back is track down Steve.

He finds him sitting at the kitchen counter with a sudoku puzzle.

“Oh my god, Steve,” Eddie says, his voice low as he watches Moe head up the stairs. After her bedroom door closed, he continues, “That was the worst fucking thing I have ever lived through.”

 “Well, it had to be better than the friggin’ Minions movie I sat through with Hazel,” Steve said drily, still looking at his sudoku, “I don’t know how Robin does these in under five minutes – makes no effing sense.”

“No, I’m not talking about the movie – Steve, I’m talking about the drive home.”

“The drive home?” Steve repeated, “The fifteen minute drive between here and Natick?”

“Steve,” Eddie said a third time, “The drive with four thirteen-year-old hellspawn in the backseat. Yes, I’d rather be a chew toy for demon-bats than live through that fifteen minute drive ever again.”

“Okay, don’t say that.”

“One of them tried to get out of the car at a red light, Steve.”

Steve blinked.

“Why?”

“I have no clue, man. One second we were all chillin’ and listening to Justin Bieber or whoever the fuck, and the next, they’re playing musical chairs or some shit at a red. I had to use the child lock, Steve. I haven’t used the child lock on my car since Hazel was in preschool.”

“Okay.”

“They kept rolling down the window to yell at other cars. Why were they doing that, Steve? Why were they doing that? And then the things they were yelling didn’t even make any sense – one of them kept shouting what color other drivers’ cars were.”

Steve only gave a sympathetic hum, his focus already shifted back to his puzzle (and Eddie really does try to avoid backseat-solving Steve’s sudoku, but, c’mon man, he could close out the 6’s if Steve gave him the chance). 

“Is this it for Moe, Steve?” he laments, “Have we finally lost her to the dark side of stupid-ass teenager shit?”

Steve just looked up at him sympathetically.

“I hate to break it to you, love, but–”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head, “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I was just as annoying when I was that age, I –”

Steve’s lip twitches.

Eddie looks at him. “That’s not what you were gonna say.”

Steve gave a minute shrug.

“You were gonna say I was worse, weren’t you?”

“Hey, I didn’t say a thing. I just think Wayne might have a few thoughts if you told him any of this.”

[livwritesstuff]

finally, my fic from 2022 (aka the first fic i wrote and actually posted somewhere) has a sequel and proper little ending! feel like I've been sat on the rest of this story for a good few years so it's nice to finish it off and send it into the universe. I'd recommend reading the first one first, but below is a small excerpt from the second one. Please note, content warning for eating disorders for both fics, but overall it's on the optimistic, comforting, recovery side of things.

Steve had had friends his whole life.

He remembers going to nursery for the first time, holding onto his mother’s perfectly manicured hand and being ushered into the building, a quick peck on his cheek, a pinched smile, and a reminder to “be good and make friends, Steven”. He’d nodded and blinked back tears as he watched her walk away from the building, not looking back, and let the nursery worker gently pull him towards the classroom for the day.

He took his mother’s words with him that day, and the next, and did his best to be whatever others perceived as “good”. And it worked, for a while. People liked him, and if they didn’t like him then they at least kept out of his way (for the most part), and so he drifted on that right up until he couldn’t any longer. With that realisation came Dustin, and with him a bunch of rowdy pre-teens, and then Robin, and now Eddie too. Steve thought he’d had friends his whole life, but he realised that he’d never had anything quite like this.

It had been around a month since he’d opened up to Robin and Eddie that day in the skatepark and he found himself in a position he was frequently in nowadays; sat between two fidgeting bodies as they attempted to, rather unsubtly, push each other off their ends of the couch with their feet, all while Steve was trying to concentrate on the film that was playing in the background. For once, he’d been deemed worthy of making the choice for their film night, but clearly not worthy enough to be left in peace to watch it.

“Alright!” Steve exclaimed, launching forwards off the couch and grabbing at Robin’s ankle which had found itself hovering dangerously close to his face in her attempt to knock Eddie’s hand off the back of the cushions.

“Does anyone actually want to watch this film?” he asked, exasperated. He dropped Robin’s leg and she grinned sunnily up at him, the picture of innocence. Steve looked over at Eddie to find a near identical expression on his face too. Typical.

Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow before starting to turn away from the couch. He heard a shuffle behind him and then felt a hand grab half-heartedly at his pant leg.

“No,” Robin started pulling him back towards her, “Come on, don’t be grumpy Steve, we’ll watch this weird little film with you, just—” She gave a final pull and Steve collapsed back onto the couch between them again in a huff. He glared at her and her eyes sparkled as she tried to hold in her laughter.

“There you go, Stevie,” Eddie said on the other side of him, his arm coming up to rest on the cushion behind him. Eddie’s hair brushed slightly against Steve’s shoulder as he leant towards him and Steve felt his face flush at the contact.

“We’ll be all attentive, promise.”

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back slightly onto Eddie’s arm and letting himself sink into the cushions. He felt like the back of his neck was on fire from the small gap between his skin and Eddie’s arm, and he willed down his blush as he stared directly back at the TV in front of him. He couldn’t for the life of him even remember what he’d put on, but he wasn’t going to let that slip any time soon.

Read the full series on AO3

[livwritesstuff]

https://youtube.com/shorts/C5JIn5fEYkk?si=gOB8RDeLoux6GmF4

I saw this and immeditaly thought Eddie and Steve would do this to eachother. I have it played out in my head for Steve and Hazel because of their Hayday addiction lmao

😭😭😭 that vid is so sweet

yeah it's def eddie trying to spend any kind of time with steve while steve is playing hayday.

eddie: hello-o. earth to stevie.

eddie: my darling husband, the love of my life

eddie: one fourth of my entire world

steve, not looking up from the ipad: gimme five. there's only 8 hours left in this derby and hazel's not pulling her weight

[livwritesstuff]

finally posted that alternating steve/mike-pov fic i've been teasing for ages (at 10pm last night like a lunatic)

In the Spring of 2002, Steve finally gets an answer to a question that has been floating in the background of his brain, the background of his life and the Party’s life like a distant storm cloud for almost fifteen years.

It’s 2002, and Steve is thirty-five, and, for the record, he really had no idea when he woke up that morning he’d be getting any kind of answers to any kind of questions.

This one (the floating one) is about Mike Wheeler, because Mike has been operating like a living question-mark ever since 1990, when he wrapped his car around a tree one night and skipped town before the next morning’s sun could rise, and then he spent the years that followed popping in and out of the rest of their lives like some kind of traveling ghost.

Honestly, Steve has kind of learned to live with it at this point, which sucks, obviously, but Steve’s also spent many years figuring out how to at least partially unlearn his tendency to dive headfirst into other people’s problems without at least considering what might be at stake for him.

“You know, you’re more than just the guy that shows up and helps people get out of shit, right?” Robin had told him once, “You deserve to, like, chase the things that make you happy, or whatever.”

So he did, and thank fuck for that, because now, years and years later, he gets to spend a lazy Saturday morning at home with Eddie, his partner of almost a decade now, and Moe, their eight-month-old foster placement they’re currently in the process of adopting.

Steve has said it before, but Moe has brought a kind of happiness to his world that he hadn’t known existed, and the fact that he and Ed have already had eight months with her is kind of baffling to him.

Eight months isn’t that long, Steve had thought, but then he looks at photos they’d taken all the way back during that first month of Moe’s life and can’t believe how little she’d been, can’t believe how big she’s gotten. She’s even started crawling over the past few weeks, which is totally bonkers because, hello, wasn’t it just yesterday she was this teeny little being, all fragile bones and pink skin and squawking cries? And now she’s crawling?

(Nancy gave him all sorts of shit when Steve recounted that milestone to her and Robin – “She’s not crawling backwards, though, right?” she’d said, the bastard).

So, yeah, long story short, Steve woke up this morning content with the idea of spending the entire weekend hanging around at home with Ed and Moe.

Now, Moe has just finished breakfast (she’s just started to eat solid(-ish) foods, which has made meals their own kind of adventure), and they’ve all migrated into the living room, Steve working on a puzzle and Ed poking around at the pieces, one eye on the Star Trek rerun playing on the TV, while they decide if there’s enough time before Moe’s nap to go on a walk.

And then the buzzer sounds.

And then the buzzer sounds again and again and again.

“The hell?” Steve mutters, looking towards the door with a perplexed look on his face.

“Robin?” Ed ponders, because she’s the only person he can think of who would find that kind of behavior acceptable.

“No…” Steve says slowly, “She and Nance are up in Montreal right now.”

“Alright…” Eddie replies, and still, their buzzer continues to ring over them unrelentingly, “Well, shit, I guess I’ll go see who it is.”

Ed, as Steve is more than well-aware, used to take the fuck around and find out approach to life more often than not. Eight-and-a-half months ago, Ed probably would have just let whoever’s outside into the building first and asked questions later, but that was eight-and-a-half months ago, and now they have Moe, and while Steve won’t speak for Ed, he’ll say for himself that the world seems a hell of a lot scarier now that it includes Moe. The way Ed leaves their apartment, closes the door firmly behind him as he heads down to see who could possibly be outside, instead of…well, any other course of action, speaks for itself better than Steve could that Ed might be feeling something like that too.

Now, it may be true that Steve is a worrier by nature, and it may also be true that those tendencies have skyrocketed ever since they met Moe, but right now he’s not actually all that worried. It’s probably Robin, back home from a work trip earlier than expected, or guests of a neighboring condo who’ve found themselves at the wrong building. It’s probably fine, but Steve still scoops up Moe from where she’d been playing on the rug with a plastic cup (surrounded by toys, Steve will add, but why play with colorful baby toys when her Dada’s abandoned dishware is available?).

Moe points to the door Ed had just locked behind him, then looks back at Steve like she’s making sure he’s looking too.

“Did Dada go outside?” he asks her, “Can you say Dada?”

(She can’t. Eight months is a little too early for first words, but it’s worth a shot).

Moe just continues to look back and forth between Steve and the door Ed had just vanished behind.

“He’ll be right back, sweet pea,” he tells her.

Indeed, Steve hears footsteps and voices out in the hall only a minute or two later, and then Ed is letting himself back into the apartment, and when he does, when he steps through the doorway, it’s with a look on his face like he’s just seen a ghost.

And then Ed steps to the side so Steve can see who'd been ringing their buzzer and he understands that Ed sort of has seen a ghost.

Because Mike Wheeler is standing in the doorway.

read the rest on ao3

[livwritesstuff]

obsessed with the idea of messy frat boy steve harrington who’s a little (read: a lot) in love with his drug dealer.

the mysterious lanky dude who goes by ed is the go-to dealer for all of the houses on frat row. steve’s frats version of hazing is making the freshers buy the party favors from the quirky dealer dude because he likes to mess with them and have them do stupid shit or go on wild goose chases. if eddie’s feeling generous, instead of cash, in exchange for some of the cheaper and more…recreational drugs, he makes freshies do silly things like sing him the national anthem in a british accent or bring him a box of lucky charms with only the marshmallows. the frat guys always get a kick out of it, and love seeing what he’ll make the freshman do each year.

when steve rushes and gets into his frat, the upperclassmen obviously choose steve to retrieve the drugs for their first party of the year—expecting ed’s to take the piss and make a fool of him.

but when steve meets up with him at the picnic tables behind the woods on frat row, all eddies plans of making a fool of this freshman go out the window. he layssss on the flirting and basically lets steve rob him blind by giving him the drugs on a mega discount.

steve awkwardly attempts to flirt back, but honestly thinks this ed’s guy is making fun of him and is waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the dealer to make fun of him or yell out “PRANKED” and laugh at him. but that doesn’t happen.

he ends up leaving the picnic table with a new contact: “ed 🖤🚬” that the long haired dealer put into steve’s phone himself. and his deep letterman pockets full of drugs.

he smiles the entire way back to his frat house and all the upperclassman beg him to tell his tale. they think ed’s made him do something superrr embarrassing because steve is really vague with his response, just being like ‘oh we just chatted, ya know’

after their first meeting, steve always volunteers to go do the deal pick ups or invite eddie via text to their house parties to sell.

the frat brothers are chill and eventually pick up on his crush on ed, but they don’t say anything to either of them and watch it like reality tv. it gets so bad that they start placing bets and make a ‘you rule/you suck’ chart after sorority president robin buckley wrote it on their chore whiteboard at a party one night. steve keeps asking what the chart is referring to but his frat brothers keep making up new and absurd reasonings so he eventually just gives up on asking and accepts he’s out of the loop.

essentially, steve is obsessed with eddie and eddie is obsessed with steve but neither of them realize the other is into them. frat and college chaos and shenanigans ensue.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve, raised since childhood on a strict diet of tax forms, utility bills, and neatly labeled folders, handles Love with capital L the only way he knows how—logistically.

So the moment he realizes things with Eddie are serious-serious, he doesn’t make a big speech or even breathe a word.

He just quietly opens a joint savings account.

Then a trust fund.

Lists himself as Eddie’s emergency contact.

Buys a gold ring (simple, tasteful, suspiciously the right size). He knows Eddie likes silver, but that's not what it's for. Gold is in any case an investment in the future, if something happens.

And—because, well, they’ve survived four apocalypses—he updates his will.

Steve wrote it after Apocalypse #2.

The BMW had been bought with his money and, should anything happen, was legally designated to go to Dustin.

Everything else—his personal savings, the shared funds, and whatever compensation the government might cough up for the next end-of-the-world scenario—was to go to Eddie.

Nobody knows this but Steve. It’s filed in a folder marked “just in case”.

Eddie, on the other hand, doesn’t do paperwork.

When he realizes things are serious, he gives Steve his favorite band t-short. Then changes the tires on Steve’s BMW from summer to winter without being asked. Fixes the bookshelf Steve’s been threatening to burn for a month. And starts making him sandwiches in the morning — the kind his mom used to make for him, with just the right amount of mustard and that one slice of tomato Steve always forgets he likes. Uses his entire vocabulary of cute nicknames on Steve and comes up with a couple of new ones.

Miraculously, it works.

Because Eddie gets this strange, unfamiliar feeling of being safe. And Steve? Steve finally feels understood. And cared for, in a way he didn’t know he needed.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve Eddie and Robin moving to a bigger city and just. Stealing the furniture from Steve's parent's house.

[livwritesstuff]

Big headcanon in my steddie!dads ‘verse that anytime Nancy has to go out of town and Robin can’t go with her, she always crashes at steve and eddie’s, and that usually goes something like this:

Robin: nancy in morocco for five days :(

Steve: What is your ETA

Robin: i’ll be there in an hour

and then steve and eddie have this convo:

Steve: Robin’s staying for a few days

Eddie: Sick, wanna make her babysit? Date night?

Steve: *pout*

Steve: But…Robin’s coming.

Eddie: okay nvm

And then they all just hang out at home, and Robin is the most chaotic aunt in the world. 

Robin, to Moe: Are we making friendship bracelets?

Moe: No.

Robin: 😦

Eddie, with 10mo Hazel: Can you watch Hazel while I –

Robin, still in bed: Yes.

Robin: Gimme.

Robin: *dancing around the room with Moe and Robbie to tinny Disney music coming out of a plastic toy*

Robin: Does that thing have batteries we can throw away or what?

Steve: *Walks into kitchen after letting Robin help Robbie unassisted to see that an entire bowl of popcorn has been spilled on the counter*

Steve: Okay…were you watching her.

Robin: Yeah. 

Robin: I just let her do it.

Robin: Actions have consequences or whatever.

Steve: Can Actions or Consequences clean it up?

Eddie, to Steve: You were right.

Eddie: If we left, who’d be here to watch Robin?

Robin, crouched on a kiddie car and careening into the sofa: Who put this couch here?

[livwritesstuff]

fourth line, best line

for @steddiesportsau prompt 'first line' (i know the title is misleading, just trust me)

rated t | 2,577 words | cw: injury | tags: modern au, hockey au, getting together, happens during a time skip just go with it, love confessions

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

The buzzer echoes in his skull. He didn’t notch a point tonight. Not a single one.

He didn’t even drop the gloves.

He’s gonna end up sent back down to the farm team, he can feel it.

“Munson!” A voice yells from behind him as he walks down the tunnel to the dressing room. “Hey.”

Steve is a good captain, a great hockey player, and a beautiful man. His number will almost definitely be in the rafters someday, and he’s got a long career in the NHL waiting for him when he retires from playing. He shouldn’t waste more than what’s required on pep-talking Eddie through a shitty game.

“Yeah?” He asks, trying not to sound like he’s a second away from crying.

“That pass in the second was a beauty,” he says with a smile.

It’s like nothing phases him, like they didn’t just lose 5-1 against their biggest rival.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Steve pats his shoulder. “Gonna lose sometimes. You gave 100%, that’s all anyone can ask.”

Eddie doesn’t think Steve watched the same game he did. He knew he didn’t give his best. Steve did, because Steve always does, but Eddie doesn’t even think his best came to this game at all.

“I got lucky with a pass, that’s it.”

Steve shakes his head. “Half of hockey is luck. You knew what to do with it, which is more than I can say for some players.”

A lot of guys would give their left nut to get a compliment like that from Steve Harrington. Eddie is one of them.

He knows he’s blushing, but he hopes it’s hidden under the flush of the exertion from his last shift. He’s dripping sweat despite barely breaching five minutes of ice time for the entire game.

“Thanks,” Eddie squeaks out. Steve’s probably just being nice, giving him a compliment to take with him on his flight back to the AHL. “I’ll work harder next time.”

Steve looks like he wants to say more, but he’s taken to the side for a post-game interview. They lost, but Steve’s charm is enough for the interviewer to focus on more positive parts of the game instead of what they probably planned on asking.

Eddie makes his way to the dressing room, probably for the last time this season.

He may get another call up if someone gets injured, but he won’t hold his breath.

****

one year later

“Harrington against the boards…usually wins these battles, but it looks like he’s waving at the bench. Don’t know what that’s about.”

Eddie’s watching the game at his apartment, stuffing his face with chicken parm from his favorite restaurant down the street. He’s carb loading before their early afternoon game tomorrow.

Steve’s been off this entire game. He’s slower, hesitant where he’s normally aggressive, hasn’t put his body into blocking shots the way he normally does. Anyone who plays hockey or knows hockey knows what this is.

He’s playing through an injury. When you’re this close to clinching the number one spot in the playoffs, your top center can’t be injured. Eddie winces when someone checks Steve into the boards on his way to the bench.

He goes down hard, way harder than he normally would. He’s slow to get up.

Eddie’s holding his breath. Sauce drips onto his shirt.

It’s his ankle. Dammit.

There are a lot of impressive things about Steve Harrington. He’s a good captain, a great player, a beautiful man. He also defeated every odd against him his rookie year when he came back from a shattered ankle that led to two surgeries and a four month recovery process that most doctors didn’t think he’d ever finish. He did and he came back even better than before.

He’s played for years with minimal issues. One concussion a few years ago that left him day to day for about a week, one upper body injury that benched him for three weeks at the beginning of a season. Eddie can see this is different.

This is his career.

Eddie can’t stop watching as Steve limps off the ice, down the tunnel, and out of view.

“Seems like we won’t be seeing Harrington back tonight. Hopefully his goal earlier boosted his team enough that they’ll pull off the win without him,” the announcer says.

Eddie’s walking his takeout container to the kitchen and trying to find his shoes before he even realizes what he’s doing.

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna be the guy they call up. He’s not even the guy they called up earlier this season when Byers broke his toe and missed three weeks. He’s definitely not gonna get the call to help fill a gap for Steve.

His phone buzzes, but it’s just Wayne asking if he’s watching the game. He replies quickly, tries not to give the old man any hope. Wayne always believes in him more than anyone else, always has, even when he got cut from his 12U travel team.

They do manage a win without Steve, but the commentators spend most of the third period discussing the likelihood of their chances at the Cup diminishing without Steve on the ice. They act like he’s dead, like he’s already been written off.

His phone buzzes again.

Stevie: Don’t freak out. Going to get some scans

Eddie rushes to the door, freaking out. He hits call before his feet have even hit the stairs outside his apartment.

“I said don’t freak out, love,” Steve sighs into the phone. He sounds like he’s in pain. “It might just be a stress fracture. Couple weeks and I’ll be back.”

“Could be more though?” He asks, feeling like he might be sick. This was supposed to be Steve’s year. He was gonna go all the way, lead this team to a big win.

“Maybe. But I’m okay.”

“Didn’t look okay,” Eddie is in his car, waiting for the bluetooth to connect before he pulls out of the parking garage. “Looked pretty bad. Wayne even texted me.”

“He’s a worrywart. I told them to move Hagan to my spot and call you up,” Steve says casually. “I dunno if they’ll listen, but be ready in case.”

“Steve. I’m not playing without you there. I’m on my way to you, not the damn team.”

He should know better than to expect Eddie to put hockey above him.

“Ed,” Steve sighs. “Your career is first. We talked about this. I’ll be fine. It’s not like you can perform surgery.”

“Surgery?! You need surgery?”

“No! I don’t know!” Someone is heard in the background and then a siren. “Are the sirens necessary? Jesus, that’s dramatic.”

“Are you in an ambulance?” Eddie’s voice pitches higher in panic.

“It’s ridiculous. Someone could’ve just driven me when the game was over,” Steve explains. “I can walk, so it can’t be that bad.”

“You can’t put pressure on it, dumbass!”

“Is that Robin?” Eddie feels relief wash over him. If Robin’s there, he won’t be allowed to brush it off at the hospital. “Let me talk to her.”

“No. You two are gonna inspire against me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, a fond smile creeping across his face despite his anxiety.

“We aren’t gonna conspire against you, sweetheart. I just wanna know the facts. You’re blinded by your Must Give Comfort No Matter What Disease.”

“Dumbass two, it’s definitely broken,” Robin says into the phone while Steve argues in the background. “He’s being so brave. But it’s gonna be eight weeks minimum even without looking at x-rays.”

“Knew it,” Eddie smacks his hand against the steering wheel. He’s driving on autopilot, heading straight for the hospital he knows Steve’s being taken to. He’s three hours away if there’s no traffic, maybe less if he takes the shortcut he knows when he’s closer. “So he’s done for the season.”

“Absolutely. Not worth the risk unless they get to the final round, and even then I’m pretty sure it won’t be worth it. He’s defeated the odds once, but he’s still got plenty of time to defeat them next season.”

Another call comes through for Eddie and he’s tempted to ignore it.

It’s his agent.

“Call you back in 10.”

He kinda knows what’s coming before he even answers.

He’s still shocked when he hears himself say he’s already on his way.

****

The team misses Steve like a limb.

It’s not that they aren’t good without him; They keep winning for the most part. His absence is felt, though.

It’s just tough to be a team without a proper captain.

Wheeler tries, but he just doesn’t have the room like Steve does.

Eddie feels like a visitor, and it’s no one’s fault. They all know him from his last stint and attending a few games to watch Steve, but adapting a new player into the lineup is hard.

He fits okay on the fourth line, even manages an assist in his first game.

His strength is faceoffs. He wins nearly all of them, might even have the highest average in the AHL. Steve’s always been jealous of it, especially because he didn’t even start playing center until he was 16 and it’s all Steve’s ever played.

Eddie stays with Steve while he’s called up. It’s what makes the most sense.

It’s also the longest they’ve ever been able to spend together at once.

Ever since their first date, they’ve pretty much been on a hockey schedule. Other than Christmas and one week over the summer when they were still so new that anything more would’ve been too much, they’ve only had random days that line up to spend time together.

To fuck, basically.

It’s easy. Wayne warned him that living with someone changes your perspective, but he just falls more in love with Steve by the minute. He’s fun, even when he’s hobbling around in a cast, barely leaning on the crutches he’s supposed to be relying on for at least two weeks. He’s smart, beats all the hockey guy stereotypes with his clever wit, even if he does misuse words sometimes.

He’s kind. He spends a few hours every other day at the children’s hospital, no media, no other teammates, just him.

“Not like I’ve got anything else to do. And I love seeing the kids. They’re funny,” Steve shrugs. “Plus, some of them play hockey and tell me all about their games.”

Eddie knows he’s probably way more in love than Steve is with him, but he’s gonna ride this out as long as he can. Steve could have anyone, an actress or supermodel or another NHL player, but he’s choosing a fourth line call-up who forgets to put his dirty laundry in the basket.

Steve watches every home game in a suite, and every away game on tv. He calls Wayne sometimes during the away games, but neither of them tell him exactly what they talk about.

Eddie scores his first NHL goal the same night he’s told he’ll be sent back down.

It’s bittersweet.

He knows it won’t change anything.

It’s still exciting when it happens, and he points up to the box he knows Steve’s watching from, then at one of the cameras for Wayne. The goal horn has never sounded so victorious.

He doesn’t notch another point the rest of the game, but he didn’t expect to.

He gets the puck after the game, poses for a picture for socials, and fist bumps everyone on his way out. He’s thankful for his time, proud of himself for being the guy they called up and kept up for so long. Maybe Steve had a lot to do with it, but they wouldn’t have risked their season on a guy they didn’t think could help.

Steve’s already outside waiting for him, beaming with pride.

“That��s my boy!” He yells.

Eddie’s heart flutters.

“Figured I’d put on a show before I go back,” he says, hating that his tone is so sad.

Steve’s face falls. “Go back? After the way you played tonight?”

Eddie shrugs. He kisses his cheek before he unlocks the car.

“It’s a business. I’m only two games away from having to sign league minimum and I’m not producing enough for them to do that,” Eddie explains even though Steve definitely already knows that. “Maybe next year.”

“Fuck next year!” Steve is mad. “You’re our best fourth liner now. You just need the chance!”

Eddie’s tired. He’s a little sore from taking a puck to the wrist and a stick to the neck. There’s nothing to argue about, and Steve’s not even trying to argue with him, but it still presses on Eddie’s nerves.

“I’m okay with it. Really,” Eddie is. He’s used to this back and forth. He knows he’s lucky to get a chance to shine once in a while. “They’ll do great without me.”

“But I won’t.”

Eddie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

“You will. You’ll be back on the ice soon and you won’t even have time to miss me. Plus we’ll have most of the summer,” Eddie explains.

“I’m not going back on the ice.”

Eddie’s heart stops.

“What are you talking about?” He manages to ask.

“I’m done. I wasn’t gonna announce it until the season was over. I have a fracture that needs more surgery and it’ll take another 8-10 months of physical therapy just to be able to do normal things, let alone hockey. And there’s only a 20% chance I’d be able to play competitively at all after, let alone the level expected of me. It’s not fair to the team to drag this on,” Steve says it like he’s practiced it. Maybe he has. There’s barely any emotion in it, like he’s pushed it far enough away that he doesn’t feel the pain Eddie knows he must feel. “I’ve got a statement ready. The team knows.”

“They didn’t tell me?” Eddie feels tears pooling in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me.”

Steve cups Eddie’s neck, kisses his forehead. “I didn’t want to distract you from playing. And I don’t want this to ruin the high of the night.”

“Steve, this is so much more important than me scoring a goal.”

“I just want you to be happy,” Steve admits quietly.

“I want the same for you,” Eddie says back. “Hockey is everything to you.”

“Not anymore.” Steve takes a shaky breath. “I think it’ll always be important to me. It was my childhood and my career and my passion. And it’ll always be that, I guess. I’m sure I’ll stick around as a coach or recruiter or something. But since I got to have you, you’re all I want.”

Eddie’s heart starts beating much faster, probably dangerously so.

“I love you, Eddie. I love you more than anything. More than hockey. More than Robin, but you better not tell her that.“ They both laugh. Steve grabs his hands and kisses his knuckles. “I can live without hockey. It hurts, but I can do it. I can’t live without you.”

Steve’s career is over. It hurts Eddie to know he overcame so much just to have everything shortened way before his time was actually up anyway.

But his life is still happening, and he wants Eddie to be a part of it.

“So you’ll come with me?” Eddie asks.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Steve replies.

“Even though this is the best I’ll probably ever be?”

Steve smirks. “Fourth line, best line, right?”

[livwritesstuff]

Does Eddie ever visit his mothers grave again? I'd like to think when Steve and Eddie move Hazel into her dorm in Florida he would make a trip to see her again. Maybe he would visit it with the girls too? I think itd be a nice idea. I really enioyed that fanfic you wrote about them going to Florida when they just started dating. You wrote it so beautifully❤️❤️

🥺 i love this question

short answer - yes, I do think Eddie visits his mom's grave again, but many, many years later, and he very intentionally does not bring the girls there during their childhood. Steve probably pitches it every so often, and Eddie always rejects the idea, mostly because even just the notion of being back in Florida has him feeling a lot of really uncomfortable things that he hasn’t really given himself the space to parse through.

To expand on the situation a little, I think that when Eddie and Steve went back to Florida in that fic (which takes place in '94), Eddie was feeling all kinds of awful things that he'd had to feel as a child, and it brought out a side of him that he really didn't like. He didn't like that Wayne and Steve had to deal with him like that, and he really doesn't like the idea that he might not be able to keep all that in check if they went with their daughters. The way he sees it, it's a non-issue if they just don't go to Florida, so......they just don't go to Florida.

I think he feels a lot of guilt over that though, over how, when it comes to Florida, he can’t separate the way he feels about his father from the way he feels about his mother, and how it keeps him from visiting her grave. I also think he feels guilty about Hazel and how there’s a small part of him that really didn’t want her going to college in Florida, even though her dream school and dream job are there.

I do think you’re right that the next time Eddie visits his mom's grave is when he and Steve bring Hazel down to Florida to move her into her dorm for the first time, but he doesn’t bring Hazel. He doesn’t bring it up at all – Steve does, a few days before their flight, and Eddie, again, rejects the idea. This time he claims it's because he doesn't want to take away from Hazel's moment, which Steve pretends to accept until they're done dropping her off and they've said their goodbyes and it's time for them to be heading home. That's when Steve puts his foot down and basically makes Eddie go visit the grave (because he knows Eddie would regret it if they didn't).

Eddie does eventually take all three of the girls to see his mom – probably when Hazel graduates and the whole family goes down to Florida for the ceremony, and it's actually really nice. (And not to get a little macabre but I also think that Wayne probably passes away at some point between Hazel starting and graduating college, which probably gives Eddie some perspective on sharing his family story with his children).

[livwritesstuff]

oooh love wip weekend! (ty for the tag btw <3) perhaps wait for you carved the space?

Always!! And thank you for asking!! I did have this one!

--

Steve looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, you said it was an emergency, Eddie. I wasn’t going to wait around for a sitter.” 

“Right, right. That, uh, makes sense,” Eddie says with his eyes impossibly wide. “Is she okay with other kids?” 

He presses his lips together to hold in the laugh. “Despite what you seemed to assume before,” Steve says as he stands up, Charlotte now in his arms, “she’s not actually a dog, Eddie.”

--

I’m doing WIP weekend. See the post here for the rules if you’d like to play along! You can send an ask, reblog, or reply with another word.

Thanks again for playing!!

[livwritesstuff]

plant a seed (we'll watch it grow) by happypilot

@livwritesstuff

Rating: Teens & Up

38,322 words, 3/3 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Kid Fic, Steve Harrington-centric, POV Steve Harrington, Established Relationship, 2000s, Everybody Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Writer Eddie Munson, Therapist Steve Harrington, Parenthood, Foster Care, Adoption, steddie dads, Fluff, so many newborn snuggles, fruity four as thirty-somethings, featuring some subtle DILF steve bc i couldn't help myself, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, but it's okay bc he's a great one, more of middle-aged men trying to do basic math than I'd originally planned, is that a motif?

Summary

Eddie walks into the kitchen, and Steve looks up just in time to watch his jaw slacken as his eyes fall on the way he’s holding the little baby in one arm, stirring his paella with the other. “So how’d it go?” Steve asks nonchalantly. “Jesus Christ, Steve.” "What?” “God, dad really is your final form.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, though he can’t quite manage to quell the hint of a smirk on his lips before he turns back towards the stove. “You know precisely what that means." — The early 2000s. Featuring a shotgun wedding, an absolute dream of a case worker, fulfilling lifelong wishes, and learning what's in a name.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Established Relationship.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[livwritesstuff]

I wish you a wonderful sunday <3

Little pooh bear

Word: books

Found this one!!

—

“What have I not been around for?” Mike protested.

“Erica’s graduation in ‘93, Dustin’s commencement a couple years back, any of the release parties for Eddie’s books?” Steve listed, and then he paused, “Will’s gallery opening?”

He pauses before he says it too, like he knew it was a risky move, which is so fucking typical for Steve, because Steve had always known too much for his own good, even all the way back to the beginning of the Upside Down fiasco.

See this post to make me write this weekend!!

[livwritesstuff]

WIP weekend!! Let’s do “close” for borrowed time!

Found it :)

—

She’s kind of right though (like, Christ, if you nearly died with someone, maybe let ‘em know where you’re gonna be holing up), which Steve seemed to recognize based on how he just stepped forward and pulled Robin into a soft, tight hug. Any remaining torrent of words she might have had left just turned into a shaking exhale as she hugged him back, her cheek smushed into his shoulder, and Eddie saw one lone tear hit her cheek before her eyes squeezed close.

“Sorry,” Eddie heard Steve say, voice low, “Should’a called.”

See this post to make me write this weekend!!

[livwritesstuff]

WIP WEEKEND

thanks for the tag @oh-stars <3333

Rules: Pick from my following WIPs and give me a word. If I have the word, I’ll share the sentence and the sentences before and after. If I don’t have the word, I’ll write three new sentences to share.

Fics are:

ultraviolet (co-stars au multi-chap)

borrowed time from mr. madness (angsty part 2 to my *hop is basically steve's dad* fic)

little pooh bear (alternating steve/mike-pov from this series)