megaanra

[megaanra]

They say I'm too young to love you…

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HIM AS MY PERSONAL TRAINER THAT TEASES ME WHILE WORKING OUT AND I TEASE HIM BACK AND I SHOW HIM HOW FLEXIBLE I AM AND WE KEEP TEASING EACH OTHER AND AND-

[megaanra]

Waking up next to Felix ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Long nights dozing off with Felix by your side turned into beautiful mornings that always made each day magical.

A mix of both your clothing—panties, boxers, shirts and pants, would be messily scattered just beneath his master bed. A chore that both of you would tend your needs to much later on in the day.

The sun would beam, slyly peaking its way through the open space of long sheer curtains. A summer breeze would follow as it gently blew it’s way to surround both of your bare bodies as a fresh way of a wake up call.

Felix was never the first to wake up, his chocolate locks deliberately nested on his forehead, a result of him moving in his sleep as he always needed to be holding you even when he wasn’t conscious.

You eyes would slowly break free from a tired haze as they wearily blinked into full awareness. Admiring the scene before you that consisted of Felix as his peaceful face was turned towards you, the other half burried deep into his silk pillow.

The sun soon casted a flare on his smooth skin, making him glow. All he needed now was a halo and he would be the spitting image of a beautiful angelic like being.

Stroking your hand on his cheek, you were startled but not surprised when you felt his grab yours. Dark eyes bloomed open after being shut for an extensive time, instantly beaming at you with delight.

“Good morning, baby,” he would softly mumble, still exhausted and craving more sleep.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it, you just look too good,” you hummed, appreciating as he took your hand and placed it on his warm cheek.

And that’s how it always was.

Waking up moments before Felix and getting to admire the simplicity of it all.

[megaanra]

"What. The. Fuck."

Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.

Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.

"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."

"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"

"Eddie, sit down."

"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"

"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."

"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.

"Then whose is she?"

"I told ya to sit down, Ed."

And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.

"Your dad was here earlier."

Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.

"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."

It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.

Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.

"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.

"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."

"Jesus Christ, what a mess."

"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."

Eddie swallows thickly.

"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."

Eddie nods.

"You wanna hold her?"

He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.

"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."

It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.

Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.

“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.

She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.

He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.

“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.

Wayne turns his head back to him.

“Bout what?”

“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”

Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.

[megaanra]

steve almost wishes he hadn’t told eddie he was a virgin. it’s not that he really wanted to lie to him, but ever since eddie found out, he’d been treating steve different—like suddenly things had to move slow and syrupy sweet.

he should’ve waited until after eddie had fucked his brains out to casually let the information slip, because now that he knew, eddie suddenly has all kind of /ideas/ and unfortunately, they were almost in direct opposition of steve’s desires.

it’s takes steve weeks to convince eddie that /yes/ he really wants to have sex and /no/ he doesn’t need a safe word and trusts eddie to stop when he says and /yes/ he’s really thought about it and is sure he’s ready.

it’s kind of sweet, how eddie thinks his dick is going to rewire steve’s dna.

it’s kind of annoying because it’s stopping eddie from giving steve what he wants.

eddie thinks he knows better, even though steve frankly states that he doesn’t need to be treated like a delicate flower. but eddie sees steve as an eager puppy, and he’s scared of being lennie—too eager with his love and too rough—he doesn’t want to break him. so he insists that their first time steve be on top so he can control the pace.

and even though steve wants to persuade eddie to throw him around and pound him into the mattress, he realizes that a cool, level-headed eddie won’t be swayed by his pouting. so he lets eddie think he’s on board with his plan—that he’ll be content being treated like some fragile porcelain doll.

he let’s eddie go as slow as he wants—let’s him cover every inch of his skin from his head to the soles of his feet with soft kisses and whisper-soft touches.

steve doesn’t put up a fight when eddie pulls them up—trades places so that he lies with his back on the bed and steve’s hovering above him. he doesn’t give himself away just yet—knows that even though eddie’s eager it’s not the right moment. not yet.

he sinks himself down as far as he can on eddie’s cock—which isn’t far, because eddie’s fist gripped around his dick prevents steve from taking more.

he tries not to throw a fit—can’t stop a little whine from escaping but lets eddie believe that it’s because he’s overwhelmed by the feeling of something inside him for the first time. it does feel great, but steve wants /more/. he gives eddie a reassuring nod and tells him he’s okay to take more—reminds him that steve was supposed to be controlling the pace.

eddie cautiously removes his hand and places it lightly on steve’s hips instead—like he still isn’t sure steve won’t impale himself on eddie’s length in one go. he knows steve well.

but steve’s got bigger plans, so he plays nice. eases himself up and down on eddie’s cock ever so slowly, taking a tiny bit more each time. he really makes a meal out of it, putting on a show for eddie until he’s bottomed out.

steve sits there for a moment—let’s eddie stroke up his sides and rub his back and shower him with praise. he does like that, but it’s not enough.

when he can’t wait anymore, he starts riding eddie—slow at first, gradually building up his pace. still moving, he puts one hand flat along his tummy, just below his belly button. looking at eddie with wide eyes he says, “i can feel you, right here. look—i can see you moving inside me.”

eddie’s grip on his control starts to slip—steve’s careful not to smirk when eddie starts raising his hips up mindlessly to meet steve.

steve doesn’t hold back his moans, hoping they’ll spur eddie on. eddie’s looking up at him slack-jawed and starry-eyed and steve knows it’s time.

he stops moving his hips—sits firmly so eddie’s are pinned to the mattress—and leans forward to kiss eddie. when he breaks away, breathless, steve tilts his head up so he can whisper in eddie’s ear.

“you love this pussy, don’t you?” his tone dark and silky.

eddie groans. “jesus christ, steve.”

steve pushes on, “is this your pussy?” he bites back the /daddy/ rolling around at the tip of his tongue; doesn’t want to use all his ammunition at once. he reaches for eddie’s hand—takes it in his own and guides his fingers to where their bodies meet. he rubs eddie’s fingers—tangled in his own—where his skin is stretched around eddie’s cock.

“yeah,” eddie says on an exhale. “it’s mine. belongs to me.”

“are you going to treat it good?” steve delivers his line with an air of innocence—like he’s not about to spring a trap. he feels eddie’s hips pushing up in little aborted thrusts underneath him.

“yeah,” eddie says. “gonna treat your—“

“your,” steve corrects. eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. when he looks at steve again, steve suddenly remembers a story he’d read as a kid—a tale of a patient bunny who’d outwitted the wolf chasing it.

“stupid bunny,” steve thinks, entranced by the hunger in eddie’s dark eyes, “to not want to be pinned down and ravaged by the wolf.”

“gonna treat my pussy so good, baby.” eddie moves his finger along slick wetness—sliding against his own length and teasing at steve’s hole—pushing just barely in along side it.

steve lets his head fall back as he groans. he needed to move quick—play his final hand before eddie gets distracted.

“prove it,” steve says, looking back down at him. “show me how much you mean it. show my pussy who owns it.”

in an instant, the room is spinning and steve finds himself flat on his back. before he can even register that it’s the ceiling he’s staring up at, eddie’s pounding into him without restraint. steve can’t get enough air to moan—forced out of steve’s lungs each time eddie’s hips slam up against his ass.

eddie pushes steve’s left leg up—slotting his hand behind the knee. a moment later he does the same with the right. not slowing down, he leans forward—pushes both of steve’s legs until his knees are touching his own shoulders.

tears spring to steve’s eyes as eddie’s cock sinks impossibly deeper. steve stares up at him, mouthing wordlessly.

“i’m sorry baby,” eddie kissed away a tear, thrusting in harder. “this is what you asked for. gotta treat my pussy right—gotta make sure it knows who it belongs to.

“you,” steve manages to squeak out.

“that’s right,” eddie coos. “this pretty little pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it baby?”

steve nods. “i’m- eddie i’m gonna-“ he pants, trying to force the words out.

“it’s okay,” eddie moves his hands—adjusts himself so his shoulders pin steve’s legs in place, leaving his hands free to reach around and stroke steve’s sweaty, tear stained face. “i got you, sweetheart. just let go. let daddy make his pussy feel good.”

heat pools low in steve’s gut—it felt like his entire existence narrowed down to his core. his orgasm his him full force—crossing his eyes and making his whole body tense and push up against the firm hold eddie had over him. nowhere else to go, steve falls back limp against the bed, guttural groans—broken and staccato—sticking in the back of his throat.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” eddie babbles, looking down at steve like he’s never seen anything quite as wonderful. And then he thrusts hard—a forceful final push—as he fills steve with his cum.

he stares down at steve, watching the rapid rise and fall of his flushed chest as eddie slowly rocked his hips against him; moving on auto-pilot while his brain slowly reconnected to the rest of his body.

when steve’s breathing slowed down and he opened his eyes, he smiled up at eddie, looking every bit the cat that got the cream.

“you know,” eddie said, pulling out and admiring the slow slide of his cum spilling out of steve’s cunt. “there’s a word for people like you.”

“resourceful?” steve asked; his faux-innocence not quite as believable now.

“a fucking brat.” eddie retorted.

“pretty sure that’s three words,” steve pointed out.

“oh my god,” eddie looked up at the ceiling like he was appealing to some higher power. “you know if you act like a brat, i’ll show you how brats get treated. you might not like the consequences.”

“what’re you gonna do? spank me?” steve asked eagerly.

“nah, you’d like that too much. i think withholding would be a better punishment for you. maybe i’ll tie you up and watch me jerk off. let you squirm and cry when you realize you won’t be getting my cock.”

“noooo,” steve whined, as if his imagination wasn’t already running wild picturing it. he was pretty confident he could eddie to give him both—he just had to play his cards right.

“i’ll be good for you, daddy.” he batted his eyelashes and watched eddie practically melt in front of him. “promise.”

it was the best lie he ever told.

[megaanra]

Eddie's only at the club because it's Gareth's 21st birthday, so they're all finally old enough to party the night away, so they are. Eddie is pleasantly tipsy when he spots a man that has his mouth salivating.

Hair fluffed up high and swept back, leaving his ridiculously handsome face on display, though the look on his face can only be called a grimace, as if this club is beneath him and he can't believe he's here. Well-toned arms, which are crossed over his chest, causing the crop top he's wearing to hug his broad shoulders deliciously. He's wearing jean shorts so short Eddie thinks they might actually be considered publicly indecent. Legs for days.

Eddie drags his eyes back up the guy and realizes he's been caught staring. Hottie is looking back.

Then, incredibly, Hottie lifts a hand and waves him over. Eddie looks around him, because surely, he's not meaning Eddie, before looking back to Hottie and pointing at himself. Hottie doesn't nod, but he does the 'come here' wave again and Eddie has to.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks when he's close enough to not have to yell.

Hottie shrugs and says, "I just wanted to see if you'd obey."

[megaanra]

steddie fluff piece

the first time they see each other after vecna

steve has a moustache (i believe in hairy steve harrington supremacy)

when steve leaves high school, he decided to stop shaving. i mean, there’s no point now that he’s not swimming competitively. and he’s too focused on saving enough money to leave this god awful town to bother with something so trivial.

after vecna, he doesn’t think about the fact he hasn’t shaved his face in weeks. he’s got other worries, like finding a new job after keith fired him, helping the byers move back into town, and making sure the kids are safe. he practically takes them everywhere, especially because eddie is still recovering in the hospital.

eddie and steve had gotten closer over spring break, sharing secret looks and touches when no one was looking. steve held eddie when he was scared and eddie tended to steve’s wounds, knowing he wouldn’t bother to do it himself. so when steve saw eddies body laying on the floor surrounded by dead bats, his heart was in his throat as he ran to him. and despite robin and nancy insisting on leaving eddie there, insisting on him being dead, steve wouldn’t accept it. eddie wouldn’t do that, not to dustin, not to him. not when they had just started something so special. so he carried him out of that place and took him to the hospital, ignoring the biting pain of his own wounds to ensure eddie was safe from any monsters or people who may hurt him.

steve was only able to see him once, for a brief moment, when he was dropping dustin off to visit for the day. eddie has only been allowed limited visitors and since steve didn’t know him too well before the incident, he decided it was better for his actual friends to see him.

it was safe to say that the corroded coffin guys were very confused about why steve hung around the hospital so much despite never actually seeing eddie. at one point they thought that he was trying to hurt their friend, but wayne assured them otherwise. he saw something within steve and knew, without a doubt, that he cared for his boy deeply. that was proven when dustin told him that steve was the once to rescue eddie.

so when eddie finally leaves the hospital, steve goes over to the trailer to visit while wayne is at work. obviously just to check on the guy, make sure he’s healing well. definitely not because he missed him….

he walks in after knocking quietly, worried eddie may be sleeping. but no, there he is, sat on the couch, a cozy blanket wrapped around him. steve thinks that eddie looks so cute, his hair in a bun and his fringe (bangs?) sticking up everywhere. for a moment he’s just staring at him, taking in his beauty.

eddie is just as speechless, staring at steve intently. he knew that steve was the one that saved him, but he never expected him to be the first one to visit him now that he’s out of the hospital. to be honest, eddie wasn’t sure steve cared for him at all, despite what they shared. secretly, he was worried that it wasn’t as serious for steve, that he was an experiment.

but that’s not why eddie was staring. rather, eddie was looking at the stubble that covered steve’s face and the great moustache that covers his upper lip. now don’t get it twisted, eddie KNEW that steve was attractive. i mean, he had a crush on the guy for years! but god, the addition of a moustache on his perfect face almost makes eddies (already weak) knees buckle. he doesn’t think he could utter a word even if he wanted to.

steve breaks the eye contact, placing down the bag of groceries he brought over. it snaps eddie out of his trance, causing him to shift his eyes away from steve’s face.

unfortunately, they seem to land on his ass as he bends. eddie cursed himself internally and adjusts the blanket subtly.

before he can even think about his words, eddie mutters “jesus harrington, give a guy a break. i almost die and now you’re here trying to give me a heart attack.”

steve’s face flushes red and he smiles shyly. “did you miss me, eds?”

eddies grin widens and steve walks over to him, sitting next to him on the couch. eddie wraps his arms around steve’s neck, wary of his still healing torso.

“more than you can imagine, stevie” he whispers.

and later, when eddie has healed a little and their relationship gets more serious, eddie learns of all the other places steve doesn’t shave….. ;)

[megaanra]

famous rockstar Eddie Munson who wears homemade t-shirts with his husbands picture on

[megaanra]

The saving grace for Steve here is that all eyes are on Eddie, so no one witnesses how he freezes, just for a moment, when Eddie tells them who the 'she' is he's been referring to. How he just wanted to help her. Help Chrissy. Whatever Eddie has been saying has turned to buzzing, to white noise, to nonsense in the background of his mind.

He has to be wrong. Mistaking some other girl for Chrissy. Because it can't be Chrissy. It can't. Steve has worked so hard to keep his family away from the Upside Down shit. She couldn't be- there's no way she somehow got caught up in it. There's too many questions and not enough answers and when did the air get too thick to fit in his lungs?

Does Gareth know?

Gareth, who Steve knows is one of Eddie's friends and here Eddie sits before him, a witness to Upside Down shit. A witness to a murder they have no clue how to solve. Gareth, who isn't exactly friends with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, but who is in the same club as them and on friendly terms. That's too many people connected to the Upside Down in Gareth's personal circle for Steve to be okay with.

He thought this was done. That they wouldn't ever have to deal with this shit again.

Eddie is still talking as the pounding in Steve's ears fades and he listens as Eddie swears, he just wanted to help, that she seemed so freaked out by something, and Steve's insides twist and churn. Why hadn't Chrissy come to him? Just last week he was at her house, hanging out and catching up. She never mentioned an issue. A problem. Something that would cause her to seek out heavier drugs than weed.

They used to tell each other everything. What changed?

His stomach drops as the answer comes to him.

He did.

He'd changed. He started keeping secrets first. Pushed Chrissy and Gareth away after that first incident and hadn't really started to let them back in until after Starcourt. He'd just wanted to keep them safe. Keep them as far away from this horror as possible. He'd ended the weekend sleepovers because of his nightmares, stopped inviting them over to hang out by the pool because he can't look at it without thinking about Barb, started avoiding them at school when he'd ended up beat to shit by Billy because he knew they'd dig for more answers than he could give.

No wonder Chrissy didn't tell him anything was wrong.

There's no way for Steve to know if he could have helped or not, even if Chrissy had talked to him. Eddie doesn't have answers; just a story.

Steve hates him a little bit. It's irrational. Eddie didn't do this Chrissy, (even if he had been arguing that point at Family Video) but it doesn't stop the anger inside him from boiling up. He doesn't act on it, of course he doesn't, he's not that person anymore.

Plus, acting on it would kind of negate everything Dustin just convinced Eddie of, such as he's not crazy and they do believe him, and Steve's not about to undo what Dustin's accomplished by taking Eddie by the vest and shoving him against the wall in a reverse of earlier. It wouldn't do any good, not now that they're all sure it's a new, unknown threat from the Upside Down that they'll have to figure out on their own.

No. Taking his anger out on Eddie won't solve anything.

He can be mad about this later.

It does sit heavy on him, though, that he doesn't think anyone in this boathouse knows Chrissy was his cousin. That the Upside Down has taken someone from Steve this time. He can't tell them. Robin wouldn't take it well, and Dustin might not either. They'll be sad for him, and he can't handle that right now.

He can mourn later.

-

Remember the fun lil fic of Gareth not wanting his cousins, Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington, to ruin his street cred in high school? Well, the fun is done. Have some angst. More parts will follow but it's not really a fic? Just... disjointed scenes, rewritten from canon to fit the cousin AU.

[megaanra]

sleepy and domestic. just the way they should be :)

available as a print here!

[megaanra]

(Originally posted as a thread on my twitter here)

In an angsty steddie mood so: Thinking abt how Steve makes an effort to get into Eddie's hobbies, hangs out at Hellfire, and listens to his music, while Eddie is used to making fun of popular stuff and he doesn't think about how that also means he's making fun of stuff Steve enjoys.

He is obviously not TRYING to be a dick and he's such a sweet boyfriend, but he definitely rags on Steve when he wants to watch whatever game is on, makes fun of him when he listens to top 40, and teases him about how into fashion he can be.

Steve just rolls his eyes and laughs at him, says Eddie is just as self-absorbed as he is when it comes to his style, but the rest...it doesn't hurt, per se, but it falls in line with what Steve is used to - people don't care, and he's the one who makes the effort.

And Eddie is so good to Steve all the time, he genuinely loves him and takes care of him and is there for him, he just doesn't think about the fact that when he's dismissive of these things that matter to him, he's being dismissive about *Steve*.

It clicks one evening when Steve's talking about his day, how he went to one of Lucas' games and starts getting into the details about a specific play Lucas made, how impressive it was, but he cuts himself off mid-sentence and goes "you don't care, sorry-- how was band practice?"

And he's smiling at Eddie, fond and soft, but there's a tint of embarrassment at the corners of it, a pinch at his eyes. And Eddie's familiar with that look. Its the same look on his own face when he's been rambling about something for too long and somebody tells him to shut up.

It's the same look he gets when he's passionate and gets shut down and that discomfort coils in his stomach at the idea of being too *much*, of being annoying, of wearing out people's patience because he can't just keep his mouth shut.

And the worst part is - he'd been a few seconds away from cracking a joke about balls in laundry baskets and how stupid organized sports are and how nobody cares how good dumbass dudes are at throwing shit at other dumbasses.

And this time the discomfort in Eddie's stomach isn't embarrassment or shame, it's guilt. He can't stand that Steve has felt that way before - because he knows he has, he's heard the stories about his parents, knows Steve is too familiar with how bad it hurts to be insignificant.

But most of all, he can't stand the idea that he feels that way because of *Eddie*. That Steve isn't talking about something he cares about because he thinks - he knows, really - that Eddie will dismiss it.

And yeah, sure, it's a stupid basketball game. But it isn't stupid to Steve, and Eddie watches the air leave his boy's sails and his shoulders go a little tight like he's waiting for Eddie to make fun of it even while he's smiling and asking after Eddie, inviting a subject change

So Eddie waves a hand dramatically, rolls his eyes, "practice was fine, the usual - so what did Lucas do after that?" And Steve blinks at him in surprise, like he's shocked Eddie is asking.

"Um," Steve stutters, hesitates, and God Eddie feels like such an asshole, but he just keeps his eyes on Steve, does his best to look interested and engaged, and soon Steve is running through the game again, a small smile on his face, his enthusiasm obvious.

Eddie tries more after that. He asks about a song on the radio when Steve starts tapping his steering wheel to the beat. He stops complaining when Steve comes over to watch games with Wayne.

He even goes shopping with Steve, doesn't say a word when he fusses over two sweaters that look fucking identical from where Eddie is standing. He just shrugs and says "get both, sweetheart," and watches the way Steve grins when he gives his opinion.

Steve doesn't comment on what Eddie's doing, and Eddie doesn't make it a thing, but they can both feel the way their relationship feels more balanced now. Steve stops cutting himself off when he starts rambling, and Eddie still teases him sometimes, but it's playful, gentle.

And it's all worth it just for the way Steve fucking beams at him when Eddie joins him for Lucas' next game, holding hands in the family section and screaming themselves hoarse.

[megaanra]

i know i’m my heart that in a modern au, country boy eddie munson would have a soft spot for taylor swifts earlier albums. he would never dream of telling anyone that he actually likes it, but when he’s driving home after an intense hellfire session, or a long day of band practise, he would play “the way i loved you” from fearless and sing his heart out.

one day when he’s home alone with both wayne and steve at work, he plays it from his speaker in his room. he would lose track of time cleaning his room or writing new stories for the next d&d game and not realise that it’s 4:30, which is when steve said he would come over after finishing his shift at family video or wherever he would work in a modern setting. so steve walks into eddies bedroom as taylor swift blasts from the speaker, to see eddie dancing and singing every word to the “pop trash” music he claimed to hate