moomkin77

[moomkin77]

hoh steve (steddie)

“Steve,” Robin calls right as he’s preparing to jump. He turns and looks at her, head tilted, and she taps her ear. Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through several emotions, annoyance, trepidation, resignation, before reaching up and pulling something from his ear. He drops it in her hand with a sigh, and Robin makes some kind of motion with her hands.

He gives her a reluctant thumbs up back, and dives. 

“So, what was that?” Eddie asks after a few seconds, while they all peer into the water. 

“What’s what?”

“The…“ he pokes his own ear, “the thing he gave you.”

“Oh, it’s—“ she starts, but then Steve comes up for air and everything is forgotten. 

“—unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen,” Eddie finishes with a flourish. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, except that Steve seems like he’s actually a good guy, and deserves to be happy. Eddie knows it will never be him that does that. So matchmaking it is. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares blankly at his lips, brow furrowed. He looks up at the girls, and Eddie assumes he’s looking at Nancy, contemplating their future together. 

“Hey Robin?” Steve calls out a little too loud, dashing all of Eddie’s assumptions on the rocks. 

She turns around, tilting her head and jogging back to them. Nancy keeps going on, because she’s got the biggest balls of anyone Eddie’s ever met and will not be stopped by man nor hellbeast. 

Steve points to his left ear, the one Eddie’s on the side of. “Do you have it?” 

Robin moves closer to his right, hitching her voice a little louder. “I couldn’t exactly take it into the lake with me, Dingus.”

“Great,” he groans, “lost my hearing aid and my favorite sweater. Fuck this place, seriously.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Hearing aid? He would have noticed a hearing aid, right?

Steve turns to him with a grimace. “Sorry man,” he says, “I caught, like, maybe half of what you were saying. Something about trying to fix my friendship with Nancy?”

[moomkin77]

bodyswap (steddie)

So, they beat Vecna. Nancy shoots him full of lead, El tears him apart from the inside, and Steve and Robin burn this version of the Creel House down with him in it. It’s over. It’s finally, finally over.

Steve ignores the reopened wounds in his side, racing to get back to Dustin and Eddie before the gates close forever. The ground rumbles again and all three of them stumble, Robin taking his hand and yanking him along when he falters. 

“You can pass out when we get topside!” She screams at him, and he tries to give her a thumbs up before he wraps that hand around his bleeding torso.

They get to the trailer park, but Dustin and Eddie aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Steve almost rips Robin’s arm out of her socket when he turns around and runs. 

“Dustin,” he bellows. There are dead demobats everywhere, and the mass of them on the ground thickens in a particular direction. He heads that way with a sinking feeling in his gut. “Dustin! We need to fucking move!”

“Steve!” He hears Dustin wail, and all self preservation leaves him as he bolts, landing heavily on his knees at Dustin’s side and immediately checking him over for injuries.

“Are you okay?” He gasps, holding his tearstained face in his hands. “Where are you hurt? Show me.”

Dustin shakes his head, crying harder, and that’s when Steve notices the limp body right in front of him. 

Eddie coughs up blood. “Wow, Harrington,” he grins, “nice to see that you care.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” It’s bad. Steve goes into preservation mode, stripping off his jacket and shirt and using them to press down on the many, many bites littering Eddie’s body. He senses Robin and Nancy catch up behind him, and hears Nancy gasp.

“What do you need?” She asks, dropping down on Eddie’s other side.

“Robin and Dustin need to find a new way to get through the portal,” he says, looking over at them. “I can’t carry him and use the rope.”

“Rope’s gone, anyway,” Dustin mutters. “He cut it.”

“You cut the rope?”

Eddie shrugs as much as he can. “Seemed..” he coughs again, red and wet, “…like a good idea…at the time.”

“Stupid,” Dustin corrects angrily. “It was really fucking stupid.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Nancy says frantically. Robin nods, and takes Dustin away swiftly. Steve files Dustin’s limp in the back of his mind for later. “What do I need to do?”

“Help me keep him from bleeding out,” Steve says as he gathers Eddie into his arms. Eddie turns and nuzzles his face into Steve’s chest. It’s weird, but at least he’s alive to do it. “I might need help walking, too.”

“Right.” She examines him worriedly. “On three?”

He heaves Eddie up on the count of three, and Eddie whines, long and pained. “Sorry,” Steve gasps, the wounds on his side tearing. “Sorry.”

“S’kay,” Eddie mumbles, closing his eyes. He doesn’t open them again, and Steve jostles him.

“Hey, no passing out on me, got it? Keep those eyes open for me.”

The last thing he can remember is feeling Eddie’s blood mixing into his, their open wounds pressed together. Then he blacks out.

He wakes up in a hospital bed.

Dustin is beaming at him, teary and happy like Steve’s never seen him before. Not even when he agreed to play one campaign with the scoops troop, and admitted at the end that Dungeons and Dragons wasn’t that bad. Too much math and writing and thinking for him, it made his head hurt, but not, like, awful. 

Steve thinks he’d wake up in a million hospital beds if it meant Dustin always smiled like this. 

“—Robin’s with Steve, we’ve been taking shifts. Well, the rest of us have. She hasn’t actually left his side. He’s woken up a couple of times, like you, but you both fall right back asleep after,” Dustin’s saying, and Steve blinks, foggy. 

“…Steve?”

“Yeah, he collapsed after he carried you out. Went septic, because he didn’t take care of himself again like an idiot and his bites got infected.”

“Wait,” Steve says. “Is there another Steve? Were you hiding another Steve behind my back? Where’s Eddie?”

Dustin stares at him. “You are Eddie.”

“S’not funny, Henderson. I just woke up from a fuckin’ coma, I don’t need this shit right now.”

“Did the bats eat your brains?” He demands. “Shit, do you have brain damage? What’s wrong with you?”

Steve pouts. “That’s not funny, you know I do.” Dustin’s seen him through his fair share of migraines, knows more about what to do and what exactly causes them than Steve, probably. The perks of getting your ass kicked in front of the smartest eighth graders on the planet.

“They gotcha on the good stuff, huh kid?” A man says from the other side of his bed. Steve whips around, only just realizing that this guy is also holding his hand. There’s multiple hand-holdings going on here, which he knows is normal for hospitals but doesn’t know why this random stranger is doing it. Does he know Dustin? Is this the other Steve?

“Who’re you?”

He looks hurt by this, which makes Steve feel like a monster. But his brain won’t work, he’s definitely high on some kind of painkillers, Dustin is being confusing, and he’s tired. 

“That’s your Uncle Wayne,” Dustin reminds him. 

“I don’t have an uncle,” Steve replies, frowning. His parents are both only children, as far as he’s aware, and they don’t have any friends that would call themselves his uncle. Still, the name sounds familiar. “Doesn’t Eddie have an Uncle Wayne?”

“What the hell are you going on about?” Uncle Wayne asks. 

“You’re Eddie,” Dustin insists, confused and somewhat panicked. Now he knows how Steve feels. 

“No I’m not.” Steve scowls, sick of whatever game he’s playing to fuck with Steve’s head. “I’m Steve.”

Dustin’s eyes widen, and Steve gets the sinking feeling that something is very, very wrong. 

The door slams open.

“Dustin!” Robin hollers, eyes wild. “Something is wrong with Dingus! That’s not my dingus!”

“Robbie!” He says excitedly, and tries to sit up. Which goes poorly for him. Ow. 

She looks at him, and a diamonds worth of emotions crosses her face at once. “…Steve?”

“Yes,” he cheers. At least someone knows who he is. 

“How did you know?” Dustin demands. 

“I’d know that drugged up puppy-dog look anywhere,” Robin replies, eyes still on Steve. “Plus, there’s a guy in Steve’s body trying to tell Nancy what kind of campaign he could make out of this.”

“My body?” Steve asks, horrified, just as that Wayne guy says, “Now hol’ up just one second—“

Robin pulls a compact mirror out of her pocket and approaches the bed with caution. 

Wayne is ushered out, still loudly demanding answers for what the hell is going on with his nephew. Steve wishes he had them. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Robin says with a grin. “This is great.”

“Literally how,” Steve deadpans. 

“Well maybe not great for you, but I’m about to have the time of my life. Eddie, quick, say something nerdy.”

“What,” Eddie says flatly. It’s weird to see his expressions on Steve’s face. His face shouldn’t look like that, shouldn’t move like that. 

“C’mon,” she urges, “I wanna hear Steve’s voice talk about dnd, or your shitty music, or the moral majority.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. “We do talk about the moral majority.”

“Yeah, but we’re always serious about it. I wanna hear Munson give one of his tabletop speeches.”

Eddie looks baffled, which looks so different from the face Steve makes when he’s confused. It’s got the bare bones of it, but the finer details are off, trying to use a face that isn’t his. It’s creepy. Robin must agree, because she shudders a little. 

“You, Steve Harrington, talk about the moral majority?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended, at the same time Robin says, “Oh, you should hear him. It’s incredible.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie answers, and Steve huffs, throwing his hands up as much as he can when he’s stuck in a hospital bed. Which means he basically just makes a little gesture and hopes it gets the message across. 

“I don’t see what’s so shocking about it! A bunch of assholes declared that my kids were in a cult. They were going to hunt you down. Why would I be on their side?”

“I dunno, Stevie,” Eddie says, eyes glinting. “I guess it’s just a shock to me that the straight, rich-boy jock would have something to say about it. What’re they teaching you in those churches?”

He can’t quite stop the grimace that flashes across his face, meeting Robin’s eyes almost on instinct. Eddie’s eyebrows jut up. 

“What’d I say?”

“I haven’t been to church in two years, man,” Steve admits, avoiding the other glaring assumption. “Once you have to save the lives of kids from monsters that shouldn’t exist, God doesn’t really seem that great.”

It was for the better, really, that Steve had given up. No amount of praying or bargaining made him forget how Jonathan Byers’s hand felt in his as they ran for their lives. It didn’t stop the monsters from coming back either. 

Still, he hadn’t really stopped believing until Robin came out to him. He looked at her, this scared, brave girl who spit in the face of their torturers, the girl who Steve was pretty sure was his best friend, and quietly came to terms with the fact that if she was going to hell, there was never a god to begin with. 

Robin had cried when he told her that. 

Eddie is staring at him, eyes wide and searching. It keeps tripping him up, how different his own face is when someone else is wearing it. 

“You’d think seeing hell would make anyone a believer,” he says, voice wry. “You keep surprising me.”

Steve fidgets, staring down at his legs. “It was just…it was always a lose-lose situation, you know? Either I stop going to church and go to hell, or I do what they want and end up there anyway. I can’t be what they want me to be, so why even try? There’s no point.”

When he looks up again, he meets Robin’s eyes first. She looks achingly fond, smiling at him as she gives his hand a squeeze. He gives a small smile back, and looks at Eddie. 

He’s wide-eyed, surprise coloring every inch of his face. Or, well, Steve’s face. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, that’s— that's exactly it.”

“Dude, does Jonathan scare you?”

“What?”

“Your body, like, goes haywire around him. He checked my—your—the injuries I’m currently sporting and I thought I was gonna die.”

Steve’s face heats up. “I’m not scared of Jonathan.”

“It’s ok, Steve, you can tell me the truth,” Eddie says, only a little bit of mockery in his tone. “I’ll protect you from Big Bad Byers.”

He closes his eyes in mortification. “I’m not scared,” he stresses, “of Jonathan Byers.”

“Really? Because I wasn’t joking about thinking I was dying. Your heart goes crazy around…him…” Eddie trails off, eyes widening as he clocks the blush spreading down Steve’s neck. 

Fuck Eddie’s pale skin, seriously. Steve’s tan enough that people barely notice, but Eddie seems like he spends a sunny day sitting in his room working on song lyrics or campaign notes. He wants his fucking body back. 

Shit, he’s in Eddie’s body, and Eddie just found out he’s queer. He’s a queer man in Eddie’s body. He’s going to think Steve’s some kind of perv, or using his dick, or…or…

“Byers?” Eddie finally says. “Of all the men in the world, Byers is the one you pick?”

Steve’s eyes pop open from where he’d squeezed them shut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

[moomkin77]

Thoughts on my first Tarzan rewatch since I was a kid:

• Golly gee, I did not remember that both Kerchak and Kala’s very young son AND Tarzan’s parents get mauled by a leopard, it happens within the first ten minutes, and you actually SEE his parents’ bodies. Modern Disney would NEVER

• Also remember when Disney actually animated really good fight scenes, they had nail-biting tangible stakes, and they actually showed blood??? Remember when they weren’t cowards????

• REMEMBER WHEN TARZAN KILLED THE LEOPARD TRYING TO PROVE HIMSELF TO HIS ADOPTIVE FATHER HAVING NO IDEA THAT HE WAS AVENGING HIS BIOLOGICAL FATHER (AND MOTHER). REMEMBER THAT

• It’s been said before, but the effort put into the physicality of Tarzan is just top-tier—especially later into the film where he starts to mix his gorilla and learned human mannerisms. There is so much detail here and it’s fascinating

• Also, the times where they chose to make the gorilla conversations understandable to the audience or make them sound like gorillas (aka switch to Jane’s pov) is SO fascinating and does wonders for building up the “two worlds” dichotomy.

• Jane’s crush on Tarzan is SO obvious and honestly comes on so suddenly, she is delulu for days, but honestly I cannae blame her, if *I* was saved by a strong handsome wild man who couldn’t understand me but stared deeply into my eyes as if he could see my soul through them as he pressed the palms of our hands together, I’d probably fold too

• My favorite character was Tantor the elephant. WHAT a character arc, I was so proud of him

• Hey uhhhhhhhh remember how the villain of this movie died by inadvertently hanging himself and the movie indicated this by showing his dangling silhouette in a flash of lightning??? HELLO???

• Y’all like to give Ariel a hard time for giving up her voice for a man when Jane Porter permanently and irrevocably left civilized society to run away to the wilds of Africa to live with gorillas for a man she met a week or two ago who she’s still getting over language barrier issues with. I’m not saying she shouldn’t have done so, I completely support her decision, but I feel like if this movie weren’t so slept on some of y’all would have a lot more to say about it.

• In general Jane is a bit more unhinged than we give her credit for, and more power to her. She’s rapidly climbing the ranks of my favorite Disney princesses.

• And then her father joins her??? “People go missing all the time”???? LOL

• Finally, it’s been said before, but: Phil Collins, you legend. You did not have to go that hard on this film, but you did and we appreciate it so much

[moomkin77]

[moomkin77]

what annoys me about explaining evolution to people who don’t think it’s real is that everyone’s idea of how it works seems to be from this

Whereas the reality is far more like

[moomkin77]

found an image from the movie Painted Skin on pinterest and Immediately thought of Zuko in his Firelord era, so I drew it bcs why not and damn it fits so much jsjs

I tried to play a with a little bit of a meaning to the piece, attempting to make zuko look fierce and stuff while his reflection has more of an insecure and scared expression. Y'know, typical Zuko shit.

[moomkin77]

Bartender!Steve where Eddie is out with the rest of Corroded Coffin and they’re wasted at the bar, yelling and laughing, just generally being as obnoxious as possible. Eddie gets them another round and is practically drooling over this god among men working the bar. He makes some crude comments about wanting to take his next shot off of him, and the guys are shoving him because “shut up he’s gonna spit in our drinks.” Eddie looks right at him and, with an eyebrow raised, goes, “Did you spit in my drink?” And Steve doesn’t miss a beat, “Nah I charge extra for that.” Eddie’s in love.

[moomkin77]

I’m sorry but as an American it is so fucking stupid that Trump decided to change the name of the Gulf of Mexico. It’s the Gulf of Mexico, not of America. I am perfectly content with it being the Gulf of Mexico because I don’t need some stupid-ass power trip to boost my ego in the most inane way

[moomkin77]

Merman Adrift

A Mermaid and Pirates ST au

Steve needed to get away, as far as he could get from this ship, these humans, and this man. It was bad enough that he gave away the one secret his kind had been keeping for hundreds of years. He couldn’t allow them to keep him hostage, or prisoner, he wasn’t sure what the difference was. If this ‘Hellfire’ crew wanted to hold him for ransom, his pod would surely give in. That he knew for sure. Steve was valuable, as a healer now more so than ever, to his pod. But Steve wouldn’t allow his pod to carry the burden of saving him, not when he could do it himself.

The rails to the ship were so close, that he had noticed them when he first woke. If Steve could reach them before anyone tried to stop him, he would be home free. All he would need to do was swim deep enough and far away enough for whatever nets they sent after him to not reach him. He would need to be fast, to give them no time to react otherwise he was sure he could not fight all the humans off.

Sucking in a deep breath, Steve got to his feet, ready to sprint for the edge of the boat; but before he had taken his first step his legs failed him. Pain overtook him, his vision turning white for a single second before he collapsed to the wooden deck of the ship. Why did walking with his injuries hurt so much more than when he was swimming? Maybe it had to do with the shift in gravity, or maybe he had just been pumped so full of adrenalin that the pain was dulled down.

‘Run, run, run!’ repeated in his head, it sounded strangely like Robin, but he knew if she had actually been here to say it to him, it would sound a lot more like ‘Run, run, run, you dingus!’ Nonetheless, Steve stood on wobbly feet to make another attempt. The element of surprise had been lost when he failed his first attempt, but he couldn’t give up. Two steps were all he managed in his second attempt before he was once again falling to the ship. Only it wasn’t hardwood he met on his way down but instead firm arms.

Looking up he was the same man from before, with his long hair falling past his face as he looked down at Steve in concern. Steve knew that the reaction from the man hadn’t been for Steve but for ‘Gareth’. He saw ‘Gareth’ fall and instinctively went to catch him. It was the reason Merfolk adapted to take on the forms; So that when people their beloved in danger or asking for help they gave in without so much as a second thought.

It was a useful power, but it wouldn’t help Steve get off the boat. Steve attempted to crawl away, however agonizing it might be, but the man grabbed his shoulders and just... stared. Frustration bubbled within Steve, why couldn’t the man just let him leave? It’s not like Steve asked to be brought aboard the ship.

Without much care for the man’s feelings, Steve grabbed him by his wrists and yanked him off Steve. Which was deceptively easy; If it had been Robin who was holding him, and she wanted to keep holding him (as Steve suspected the man wanted) it would have been near impossible to get out of her grip. Even with the other mermen, it would have been harder to free himself. Weren’t humans supposed to be this terrifyingly strong force of nature? The thing you told children about to get them to behave.

Before Steve could make another go at escape the man spoke up for the first time since Steve stupidly gave himself away. “Where do you think you are going,” his words didn’t sound like a question. More like when a parent caught their kid sneaking out, wherever they thought they were going before they sure weren’t now. “Home,” Steve said as he looked back and forth between the man and the water. It was so close, all he needed to do was make it a few feet.

“And how far do you think you’ll make it with your leg like that?” The man pointedly asked as he looked down at Steve’s injured leg. To any person not in Steve’s head it would look like he had just come to realize that the man was right, he couldn’t stand much less swim. But to Steve, the only person inside his head, he was coming to far worse realizations. He had no idea where he was. He couldn’t remember what direction he and Robin had been heading. Steve didn’t know how far he drifted while he was unconscious or how long he was out for, for that matter. From what he has heard from the hunters, tracking time through the sun was a lot different above water than under.

Even if he did know exactly where he was, he would have no idea of finding his way back to the pod. If there was a pod to go back to, that is. That was the worst of all his realizations. His home was most likely long gone, and so was Robin. She was far away from the pod, at least that's what he hoped. If she had gone back for him, she risked the chance of being found by the Kraken. How was he supposed to find them when he had never left the safety of the pod? Were the pods safe anymore?

Steve thought for a brief moment about asking the man if he knew where his pod was, it was stupid, but Steve was desperate. As quick as the thought came, it was dismissed. Even if Steve asked the man would know nothing; Pods are placed far under the water, beyond any humans' reach, much less sight. Steve was fucked, completely and utterly.

Steve let his gaze fall to his leg; he might as well inspect the damage, maybe it wasn’t as bad as the pain was making it out to be. He ignored the whisper in his head that reminded him that merfolk have extremely high pain tolerances, and if it hurt like this it was that bad. If he wanted to delude himself into thinking he was a baby with a weak pain tolerance, that was his own business.

Jagged and deep cuts were littered along his legs, and wasn’t that a weird thought? Steve Harrington had legs. Even when he visited that cave with Robin he had stayed in the water as Robin ran around like a hyper marlin. He had just watched as she tired herself out and laughed as she fell to the cave floor in exhaustion. Now he wished he had joined her, if only so he would know how to work the things.

Steve shook his head, now was not the time for distractions. With a closer look, he could see what appeared to be the start of a running stitch on one of the worst cuts. The stitches themselves weren’t bad; a bit loose but you could chalk that up to Steve’s movement before it could be tied off, it’s just... Looking around him there was a boy, kneeling beside where he could guess Steve had been minutes prior.

“Did you do these?” Steve asked the boy, he had short black hair with dark skin. Slowly the boy nodded, his gaze flickering between Steve and the man. “Who trained you?” Whoever it was had an earful coming their way. Why hadn’t they taught the boy to know when certain stitches could be damaging in the long run? Before Steve could go off into a tangent in his head the boy opened his mouth, “Nobody. We stole some books from the marines and since no one here was MAN enough to learn, I taught myself,” the boy said, raising his voice for what Steve could only guess was the rest of the Hellfire crew to hear.

Steve considered the words, for only a few medical books and being self-taught, the boy's work wasn’t half bad. However, he would definitely need to find himself a mentor if he wanted to be able to treat the types of wounds pirates were prone to. Otherwise, they would be losing people left right, and center. With a big, dramatic sigh, Steve pat the space beside him, “Come here kid.” Steve could he the kid grumble ‘not a kid’ under his breath but at least he gathered his items as he scooted closer to Steve. “If I can’t call you ‘kid’, what can I call you?” Steve asked, tilting his head slightly.

The kid hummed as he thought about the answer, “Lucas,” he said, setting his items Steve now saw as makeshift medical supplies. “Okay Lucas, since you are new to this, I’ll let it go this time. But running stitches are not a good idea on wounds like this.” Steve started as took the needle in his hand. “If one of them breaks, they all do.” To prove his point Steve tightened the stitch and tied it off, holding his hand out for scissors. After receiving them he cut the needle away from the suture, and before he could second guess himself, he dug the scissors under the center stitch and cut that as well.

Lucas’ mouth flew open in shock, most likely not believing what Steve had just done. Frankly, neither did Steve, but he had a point to prove so he soldiered on. With one flex of his leg, the rest of the thread holding his wound closed fell apart and Steve pointed to it. “See that, it would not have lasted long.” Lucas must have set his astonishment aside so he could use the learning opportunity. “What should I use instead? The books said the running stitch was more efficient,” Steve nodded and thought about how to explain.

“It is but I wasn’t actively bleeding out, so you could afford to take your time. The interrupted stitch was you should have used,” Steve started to demonstrate the suture for the boy as he talked, “Especially for a wound this complex, to allow yourself to adjust,” Lucas had been watching with rapt attention as Steve adjusted when needed, eyes tracing every movement. “Can I try?” Without a word, Steve handed the tools over to Lucas. The entire reason he had done that was to show Lucas what to do, plus he could see the kids' hands twitching to try it himself.

“Not so tight,” Steve corrected as Lucas worked. All in all, the kid was a pretty quick learner. He had to be if he was going to be the only one keeping his crew alive. His crew... His crew! Steve had completely forgotten about the others on the boat. Snapping his head up, but being careful not to interrupt Lucas as he worked, Steve surveyed the people around him. A few kids stared at him as they stood behind a tallish man.

Steve could feel a connection coming from one of the boys, letting him know that his power was in effect. The boys were huddled so close together that he couldn’t tell which one was not seeing him, but it’s not like it mattered much anyway. As soon as he got his feet out from under him, he would be on his way.

Steve was about to force himself to forget about them once again and focus on Lucas’ work, but a small voice piped up before he could. “How do you exist?” it was asked by a boy with quite possibly the worst haircut known to these waters. Now, Steve was usually so good with kids and their wild questions. Today was in no way normal and he did not have the mental capacity for existential dread at that very moment.

“Well, you see, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much,” Steve started and that was normally the farthest he got before Robin hit him over the head and told the kids that babies grow in clam shells. No one hit him over the head, instead, they listened intently as if they actually wanted Steve to explain how sex works. “Really? Not a one of you is going to stop me?”

Steve ‘tsk’d’ and looked down at Lucas, who up until that very moment was dutifully fixing his leg. “Can you believe it? A bunch of perverts they are,” Lucas tied off the suture he had been working on before he looked up to Steve, Steve mentally applauded him for that. “Huh?” Lucas asked, he must not have been paying attention to the conversation. “Your friends over there want a sex education lesson. Do those books of yours have any diagrams?” Steve asked feigning a whisper, even putting his hand up to cover his mouth from the view of the boys.

As Steve expected of any teenage boy, Lucas screwed his face up in disgust and he looked at his friends with a horrified look on his face. “Why would you ask about that?” Lucas’ voice cracked as he spoke, indignity clear in every word he spoke. “We didn’t!” A boy with a hat on exclaimed, his hands waving in the air. “Oh, I’m sure you did, dusty-bun~,” the man from before teased the boy with the hat, Dusty, Steve supposed. Dusty squawked and pointed to the man, “Traitor!” he shouted, and the crew burst out into laughter.

Steve sighed in relief, at least he didn’t have to dodge questions about how mermen existed just yet. Lucas shook his head and muttered something about morons under his breath before returning to his work.

Eventually, Lucas was finished, and Steve was going over his work. Steve could hear muttering coming from where the rest of Hellfire was huddled in a group. Steve knew it probably had to do with him, and he wanted to know what they were saying but... Lucas was looking at him anxiously; Waiting to see what Steve thought of the stitches. “Good work Lucas,” Steve approved, ruffling the kid's hair as he did so. Lucas swatted his hands away, but Steve could see the grin on his face.

“Help me up?” Steve asked, hoping that he could slip away while everyone was distracted. Lucas didn’t question it, helping Steve get to his feet and assisting Steve when he told him where he wanted to go. It was slow going but with any luck they could make it to the rails before the other noticed he was gone. “And where do you think you are going?” An increasingly familiar voice called out, the man whose name Steve still didn’t know. And honestly, didn’t Steve ask for his name when he first woke up? Did he have no manners?

“Home!” Steve repeated his earlier words. He didn’t care if he ended up lost, the least he could do was try and find Robin. Which he could not do if he was stuck here on a human boat. “So, you are going to wreak all of our Ranger’s hard work?” The man yelled back, but Steve did not turn to look at him. He can see the water, with all its beauty, all he needs to do is jump. “You need time to heal,” the man continued when Steve didn’t answer, "and Lucas needs a teacher! We can help each other,”

For whatever reason Steve hesitated, maybe it was because he saw himself in Lucas. Sure, he was younger when he started up as a healer, but he was just as eager to learn. Desperate to be of some use to his pod, knowing that he couldn’t protect them in the ways he wanted. Because he would never be as strong as the girls, he wasn’t as smart as the scholars, and he couldn’t identify the right plants to gather. It was by some miracle that his teachers saw something in him, it was probably the same thing he saw in Lucas.

“I have to find my family,” Steve said, trying to talk himself out of staying. “Humans are dangerous,” it had been on repeat somewhere within him ever since he discovered his situation. “So are mermaids,” the man said, he was closer now, but Steve knew he could still jump if he tried to grab him. “If we are both dangerous then neither of us are, right?” Steve didn’t understand why, but it made a sort of sense to him.

For the first time, Steve pulled his eyes away from the water, not yet looking at the man. It was Lucas who his eyes found, the boy still holding him up with gentle hands. He must have figured out what Steve was from that conversation and now understood why Steve was at the rails. Steve could see the hope in his eyes, that Steve would stay, that Steve would teach him. “Show me your books,” Steve whispered as he pushed away from the rails.

[moomkin77]

Steve’s always a little insecure in his relationships, always worries that they’re only in it for a short while, that all their promises are just words, no truth behind them.

He’s two months into his relationship with Eddie, and Steve’s already very in love with him, and it’s terrifying. This is the most in love Steve has ever been.

They said it for the first time the other day, during a super romantic and cosy night of Chinese takeout and nostalgic kids movies, snuggled up on the couch with never ending kisses. They had sex that night too, for the first time.

They had fooled around only a couple of times before that, nothing too serious, and only twice, since Eddie’s Demisexual. Steve didn’t know that waiting was exactly what he needed, assurance that Eddie wasn’t just there for his body.

After that night he feels even more connected to Eddie, feels the love radiating from his goofy smile and his puppy dog eyes. And the way Eddie kissed him, the way Eddie touched him, it was unforgettable. Genuine electricity. Steve had never felt so special and precious in his life, never felt so loved.

He’s still got his insecurities though, now that they’ve stepped up their relationship, Steve’s gotten a lot more comfortable, shown the secret side of him, the side that only Robin knows about really. He’s worried, like all the rest of them, that Eddie won’t like him anymore, that he’ll leave.

Robin tells him he’s being negative and stupid, Eddie’s totally the one, she can feel it!!

Steve wants to feel it, thinks the tips of his fingers are buzzing from it, but he just won’t let himself. Not yet. Not until he knows for sure.

They’re on FaceTime, having dinner together because Eddie’s gone away for a few nights with his band for a gig, and they miss eachother. Eddie called him, no prompting needed, and when Steve answered he said: “Stevie, baby, oh my god I missed you— hey fuckin, Jeff!! Look at my boyfriend, how hot is he? I got a cute ass boyfriend, wow, I feel so much better now I get to talk to you again. How are you, sweetheart? I hope you’re okay.”

Steve’s heart fucking bloomed. He feels nauseous he’s so fucking in love.

“What are you doing, Ed’s? You keep looking away from me.”

“I know, a total crime, don’t hate me. I’d much rather look at you, baby— hey shut up, Jeff, let me be in love!” Eddie yelled, tossing a pen at his bandmate across the room, “Sorry, Stevie. Uh, I’m doing some research for some songs I’m writing, making sure I’m not gonna fucking accidentally steal someone’s copyrighted track. Boring stuff, legal stuff, what are you doing?”

“Not much, missing you.”

Eddie chuckles, “God, I miss you too. Want me to come over when I get home? I’d invite you to mine, but these guys always get grouchy after a long drive home and our unit would probably just depress you.”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiled sweetly, picking at his dinner. They fall into silence for a while, Eddie deep in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out over his top lip as he types away on his laptop.

Steve’s got this question gnawing at him. One of those dumb fucking questions that he shouldn’t ask, because it’s stupid. The kind of question that if he asks too many of them, his parter will get pissed off and leave, or yell at him to stop. He’s already asked Eddie one weird question, but it wasn’t even that weird, it still got a strange reaction from Eddie though. Steve didn’t take it as a good one.

Fuck, he can’t help it though, it just starts coming out of his mouth before he can really stop it, “Hey, uh, Eddie…?”

“Yah, light of my life?” He laughs to himself, isn’t looking at the camera so he can’t see Steve begin to blush, thankfully.

“If you became a rich and famous rockstar, would you leave me behind? Be honest.” Steve nodded, “I can take it-“

“Of course not, Stevie.” Eddie said, still looking at his laptop screen, it seems like he barely even thinks about the answer, “Why would I do that?”

“If you were famous, you’d have other options.”

“Yeah, but I have you. Would you leave me, if you got famous?”

“No.” Steve snickers, like it’s obvious. Because it is, because Steve’s attached to Eddie, obviously, Steve loves Eddie more than Eddie loves Steve, probably.

“See, so why would I?” Eddie says simply, a small smile on his face as he looks at Steve like he’s being goofy and weird.

Steve should just shut his mouth before Eddie starts to hate him, but he just can’t, “Well, there are better options for famous people.”

“Not for me.” Eddie says simply, and it kills Steve, genuinely, a fucking stake through the heart in the best kind of way.

“What if you were on a red carpet, and… uh… oh, what if Hugh Jackman hit on you? Would you chose him over me?”

Eddie laughed, “Look, Hugh is hot, but he’s not as hot as you. Have you seen your ass, Stevie?”

Steve flustered, “We- Uh, what about like, Dave from Foo Fighters? He’s really hot.”

“Not my type at all, besides he’s a cheater so ew.”

“Okay…” Steve wonders, “Megan Fox?”

“Gorgeous! But I don’t swing that way.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Steve sighed, “Oh, you really like Robert Irwin, right?”

Eddie laughed, looked over at Steve on his phone and smiled sweetly, rubbed a hand over his mouth, “Yeah, I like him, he’s cute. Wanna know why?”

Suddenly, Steve feels very jealous. It must show on his face too because Eddie snickers at him, “Uh, why?”

“Because he reminds me of you, dork.”

“What? How?” Steve is baffled.

“He’s cute, I like your little blonde highlights and he’s blonde. And he’s fit like you I guess. But mostly because he’s like, just a good looking chill out dude until you hear him talk, then you realise he’s a huge massive super ultra dork and you can’t help but want to know more about him.” Eddie smiled, turned back to his laptop and Steve watched him scroll through a document through the reflection of his glasses, “If Robert Irwin ever hit on me I’d be flattered as fuck. But I’d kindly reject him, and tell him I’ve got my own dork at home who prepared me for such a moment, by asking stupid questions like would you ever leave me— no Steve. I wouldn’t. Duh. You’re too good of a kisser.”

Steve laughed, let himself feel flustered for a while. Satisfied that he let himself be just the right amount of clingy to let Eddie know that he’s kinda like that, but not too clingy that he scared Eddie away.

“Would you take me with you then? When you’re rich and famous?”

“Oh, you know it baby.” Eddie grinned, “When I’m making millions, you’re quitting your goddamned job and travelling the world with me, and I’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be your full time sugar daddy no doubts about it, gorgeous.”

Steve loves this guy so much. “Yeah, sure, you can be my sugar daddy the day you figure out how to ask me how to touch your dick without stuttering and blushing and hiding in my neck about it.”

Eddie stuttered, clearly caught off guard as he began to choke on air. Steve could hear his friends in the room around Eddie begin to laugh and make fun of him. Steve laughed with him, because Eddie knows how Steve feels about that, he knows that Steve likes how shy Eddie got in bed.

Steve thinks it’s incredibly hot, a guy so confident and out there reduced to a stuttering mess the second he gets a “hot” guy in bed, as Eddie said.

Eddie’s friends begin to heckle and tease him for a bit, and Steve listens in silence as his boyfriend fights with the lot of them.

“Hey, Eddie?” Steve asks, once they’re calmed down and quiet again.

Eddie sighs, rolls his head away from his laptop and over to look at Steve, Steve hates this. Eddie smiles anyway, even though Steve is sure he’s faking it now, and says, “Yes, my love?”

He wants to take it back. He wants to shut his mouth.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head.

“No, my love. Ask me, go on. It was a follow up question to the whole fame thing, right?” Eddie shrugged, “I only sighed because you should know that how I feel isn’t something so easily raptured by a mere celebrity.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded, thought about that for a moment. Wondered if anyone else in his situation would have known that, maybe he’s just insecure, too insecure, Eddie’s bound to get annoyed by it. It seems like he already is. “I was just going to ask if you’d ever write a song about me?”

Eddie smiles, blushes, and it’s so sweet, “I already have, Stevie. Three.” He looks back at his laptop, groans and Steve sees in his glasses reflection that Eddie closes all the tabs he’s looking at in anger, “Yah, you’re so easy to write love songs about to be completely honest. But no, I’m not telling you anything about them. You’ll hear when they’re ready.”

Steve is over the moon, “Okay.”

Silence again. He watches Eddie open up a new application, Steve recognises as his music app thing. He makes demos and back tracks with it, which is cool. Eddie begins to play around with if a bit, and Steve listens to the noise and wonders what song Eddie’s trying to create.

He’s got that urge again. God, he’s so clingy. Steve can’t stand how clingy he is, no one can. It’s only a matter of time before Eddie’s telling him he’s too clingy and walking out the door.

He really can’t help himself. Maybe he’s just self destructive.

“Eddie, would you tell the world I was your boyfriend, if you get famous?”

“Yup.” Eddie nodded, “But they’d only know your name, and your face, and how much I love you. Don’t want you getting stalked by weirdos— you know, if I get famous enough that people want to stalk my boyfriend.”

Steve thinks that’s really sweet of him, especially since he had that rolling off the top of his tongue, no thinking time needed.

“Well… would you take me to all your A lister parties and events?”

“If there’s no plus one option, I’m not going sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you sitting at home, worried.”

“What would you do if a celebrity like… hmm, Eddie Van Halen hit on me?”

Eddie grinned, “Then I’d say you’re seeing ghosts, sunshine.”

“If he were alive, though?”

“Then… I’d think it’s awesome that we have something in common, you’re our type— oh! And then you’d get to say you were hit on by two guys named Eddie who played guitar super good.”

Steve laughed, “Would you introduce me to Sabrina Carpenter?”

“It would be the first thing I’d do.”

“Would you get jealous if she hit on me?”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nodded, “I’m gay as fuck and I’d still take her out on a date, you know, she’s pretty. She’s like, the girl version of you. Anyway I’d be super jealous and heartbroken but I’d tell you to take your chance.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” He assured, “You will be hearing from me, I’ll be that crazy ex just waiting for you two to break up. I’d sabotage so bad, but I’d just want you to be happy. But I would hate if that was without me.”

Steve smiled, “Imagine if we were animals? Would you still fall in love with me if we were both little otters or something?”

“Yup, I’d be head otter heals for you.”

Steve laughed, “Dude, you’re so lame.”

“Don’t call me dude whist asking these clingy ass questions.” Eddie snickered out, and Steve shut up.

He swallowed. Stared hard at the camera and tried to surpress his sudden urge to cry.

“You get so fucking clingy sometimes.” Eddie muttered, quiet enough that his friends couldn’t hear him, “I genuinely didn’t think someone could get this clingy.”

Steve hates him.

He’s about to shut off the call when he sees something flash in Eddie’s glasses, squints to get a better look at whatever is on Eddie’s screen.

“Hey, uh, forgot to mention my uncle had this watch he thought you might like— cause I got one, but you don’t wear silver do you?”

“Nope, never.” Steve shook his head, bile rising in his throat, he can’t figure out what’s taken up all of Eddie’s attention, “Tell him thanks though.”

“Got it.” Eddie muttered to himself, pressed enter on his keyboard, and a webpage popped up with large images of golden band rings.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders quietly.

“Huh? Oh, just mixing some music still, like I was before. Just trying to think up what I should do next.”

Steve is not that stupid. He knows Eddie’s lying. He’s lying so hard right now.

Eddie grabs his phone, pulls it close to his face so Steve can only see from his nose up, and he begins tapping away at his screen.

“Sorry, I’ll put you down in a sec, cutie, just checking something.”

With this closer angle, Steve can see very clearly what Eddie’s checking on his phone. He’s checking his bank account.

He’s checking his bank account, looking back at the web page of rings on his laptop, then pondering something in his head.

“Everything okay, Eddie?”

“Yup, just thinking up some lyric changes. Got them all written in my phone, I’ll put you down now.”

He’s such a liar, Steve’s just confused. And hurt.

“Why are you so quiet?” Eddie wondered, his phone back down on the table like it was before, eyes back on his laptop as he scrolls through rings, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded.

Eddie sighed, “Hey, would you still love me if we were animals? You never answered back.” Eddie said, “What if I was an otter and you were a little fishy?”

Steve hesitates, “You’d probably eat me.”

“I’d eat you right now, Steve.” Eddie said flatly, then he ducked his head and whispered, “I miss the taste of you. I love kissing you- Hey, can I suck your dick sometime? Been thinkin’ about it.”

“Oh, now you’re brave enough to ask whilst you’re a million miles away and not even looking at me?”

“Yup.” Eddie snickered, froze for a moment with his brows furrowed, clicked on a ring and zoomed in on it, glanced between his laptop and Steve a few times. “Uh, sorry, what were we talking about?”

Steve can see the description of the ring he’s looking at. He can see, clear as day, the description reads (backwards): “Solar - Gold embossed engagement ring.”

Steve can’t believe this. Eddies looking at engagement rings. Is he looking at engagement rings?

“How much do you love me?” Steve asked, a vomit of words.

Eddie smiled, hung his head like he’s all embarrassed about it, “A lot, Stevie baby. A lot.” Eddie chuckled, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself. Not to be poetic or anything, but my life was a dark, empty night sky before I met you, and then suddenly my life was summer sun, gorgeous. You’re my sunshine, right?”

“Right.” Steve nodded, “I love when you call me that.” He squints at the reflection in Eddie’s glasses and can make out the pattern of the sun embossed on the ring.

“God, I miss you.” Eddie sighs, adds the ring to his shopping cart and keeps scrolling.

Jeff walks behind Eddie on his way out of the kitchen and stops in his tracks, walks over.

“Just working on that song, look good?” Eddie asks, and Jeff leans down on his shoulder, “I think if I add this in, this take could be the one. What do you think? Or do you think I’m being too stupid? Is it too soon for that big moment?”

Oh, fuck, he’s really looking at engagement rings.

Jeff smiles, squeezes Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly, “I mean, yeah, in theory. But you’ve never done anything by the book, and all your best choices have been a little crazy like that. If you feel it’s the right choice, and will work well with the music, then yeah, by all means.”

Eddie gins, looks back at Steve, “Yeah, it’s definitely the right choice.”

Jeff snickers, wonders off shaking his head, and Eddie looks so giddy as he takes one last look at the ring.

Eddie’s thinking about proposing to Steve.

“Don’t you think I’m clingy?” Steve blurted out, catching Eddie completely off guard.

Eddie glanced at him, sighed, carefully shut his laptop and set his attention on Steve, “Well, yeah? You are clingy.” Eddie shrugged, “Dude, you don’t understand how lucky I feel, I think. I like that. I mean, you love me so much that you wanna cling to me like a fucking koala. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten bored of me yet.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Steve feels so warm and fuzzy inside.

“I love you so much.” He mumbles, brings the phone close to his face to virtually kiss Eddie, “Do you want to move in with me?”

“What?” Eddie stuttered out, “Uh, are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious in this conversation and also about this relationship. About you.”

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed, laughed a little delirious, “Yeah, yes, I do. I’d love that, sunshine.”

“When you get back then. Just… just come over and don’t leave.” Steve nodded, “We can talk more then, about us, and everything. I just want you around me always.”

“God, Stevie, you don’t know how much I feel that in my heart.” Eddie said, two hands pressed over his heart to swoon a little.

Steve doesn’t tell him that he knows of Eddie’s plans, and five months later, when the special day comes, Steve doesn’t tell him that he’s already seen the ring. Though, he does mention it in his vowels, tells everyone watching just how much harder that evening made Steve fall in love with Eddie. That he couldn’t believe someone was falling so hard, so fast, just as he was.

Steve never doubted another relationship again, purely because his only relationship from then on was with Eddie.

He’d never felt as secure as he does with Eddie, since that night, never second guessed his intentions, never doubted their love.

They’re mutually head otter heals for each other. Robin was right, Eddie is the one.

[moomkin77]

Forgotten Valentine’s

Robin walks into the break room, where Steve’s trying to get through an article in a magazine he picked up because even on break he’s bored. “Steve? Eddie came to drop this off for you.”

Steve perks up. “Eddie’s here?”

Robin snorts. “No, he popped in for literally like eight seconds, threw this at me with instructions to give it to you, and ran out again.”

Steve grins. “Did he run into the door?”

Robin grins back. “And cursed at it on his way out.”

Steve sighs happily as he takes the note.

Stevie,

Wear something nice tomorrow, big boy. I’m picking you up at 11am sharp.

E

Robin judges him with her eyebrows. “You two are the bane of my existence.”

“Uh-huh. And Nancy?”

“An angel and the light of my life and can do no wrong, shut up, Steve.” She sighs happily, the exact sound Steve had made less than a minute earlier.

He decides not to point it out.

———————

He does, actually, wear something nice the next day. Eddie does pick him up at 11am, Springsteen playing on the radio, which makes Steve grin at Eddie and lean in for a quick kiss.

“Okay, yes, I love you too, but I’ve got plans, sweetheart, and those plans do not involve getting sidetracked by those lips of yours. Which should be legally classified as a weapon, ‘cause damn, baby.”

Steve just laughs, so in love. “You’re so weird.” He means I love you, and they both know it, so Eddie just shoots him a toothy grin in response.

He takes Steve to a wildflower field. “I considered just getting you flowers, but then I figured this would mean even more, right? So. Tell me what you want. Or pick them yourself, even.” He grins and stretches to grab actual gardening shears and twine from the backseat.

“I’m in love with you,” Steve informs him. Eddie does the thing with his eyebrows where his expression gets all melty.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he says softly, then grins again and shoves the shears into Steve’s hands. “Start pickin’, sweetheart.”

Steve laughs, grabs the shears, and runs out of the car.

After they’ve collected almost a full bouquet—and run for their lives from a bee from an ill-picked flower—they tumble back into the car, love-drunk and giggly, before Eddie manages to collect himself.

“Okay, wow, I’m starting to think buying the flowers would’ve been worth it,” he teases, and Steve just laughs at him. “Anyways. Um. How does a movie sound? I know it’s not necessarily super romantic or whatever but I feel like we could use some down time.”

“Sure,” Steve laughs. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine work for you?”

“Always,” Steve promises, and Eddie’s eyebrows do the thing again, so he reaches to grab Eddie’s right hand and run his thumb over the knuckles.

They head back to the trailer, find a vase for the flowers, and cuddle in closer than absolutely necessary for the movie.

Eddie sneaks away halfway through, citing bathroom. Steve catches on the first time he drops something in the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, just keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the TV.

Dinner is delicious, and romantic as hell, because Eddie somehow found candles somewhere, and they don’t match but that isn’t the point, not when he’s looking at Steve with his heart in his eyes and on his sleeve.

They have spaghetti, and Eddie references that one scene from The Lady and the Tramp, and now Steve’s got his heart in his eyes, and on his sleeve, and they laugh like kids as they try—and fail miserably—to recreate the scene.

It ends with spaghetti sauce splattered on their faces and shirts and the table and somehow the wall. Steve immediately blames Eddie. Eddie just kisses him, which works really well to shut him up.

“Not that I don’t love all this,” Steve starts, surveying the table with a grin, “but is there an occasion or is this just ‘cause? Because this feels like an occasion type of thing.”

An expression flickers across Eddie’s face, there and gone before Steve has time to study it, to figure out what it means. “Just ‘cause, sweetheart, what, I can’t dote on my boy every now and again?”

Steve laughs, pulling him in by the neck to place a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I’ll never say no to that.”

———————

“Oh my god, Steve,” Robin says the next day. “You’re not gonna believe what Nancy did for me yesterday.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised that they’d both gone on dates, then immediately thinks weirder has happened and puts it out of his mind. “Tell me.”

“Okay, so I get home and there’s a note, and oh my god why are she and Eddie the same, or maybe we’re the same, which we are, but anyways. There’s just a place and time. So I get ready, because I might not know what she’s planning but I know she’s planning something, and I drive over, and it’s the Quarry, and she made me an entire fucking picnic.” She stares at him, wide-eyed, palms flat on the counter as she leans forward. “So we eat, and she has flowers, of course, it’s Valentine’s, and she was so fucking sweet, and then-”

Steve feels like an entire bucket of ice water has been poured on his head. “Wait,” he says, and oh, God, how could he forget, and that’s what the face was about yesterday- “Robs, oh my God, I’m the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, fuck.” He grips his hair with both hands, feels hot tears pricking in his eyes. Shuts them and hisses out again, “fuck.”

“Whoa,” Robin says, “okay, that’s… quite the generalization, bud, and also if it has to do with Eddie, he’s, like, ass over tits for you, I seriously doubt you could fuck up that bad-”

“I forgot,” he whispers, and she shuts up. “I forgot yesterday was Valentine’s. I- fuck, Robs, I gotta go, I gotta-”

“Steve,” Robin says, stopping his spiraling with two firm hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, or I’m stealing your keys. You can’t drive like this. Take a breath. Eddie’s not gonna hate you, okay?”

Steve takes a breath. Another. “But I forgot-”

“I know. And I’m willing to bet Eddie knows. Did he act at all different yesterday?”

“No… no, I mean, he made a face when I asked what everything was for, but then it was gone so quickly I thought I imagined it, and Robs, holy fuck, I don’t deserve him.”

Robin chuckles. “I think you two dinguses exactly deserve each other, actually. Take a breath and go talk to him. If Keith asks I’ll make something up, you know I’m good at that. Clock out, actually, don’t come back, I’ll tell him food poisoning or something. Take your boy on a date, Steve.”

“Okay,” he breathes, then nods. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Robbie.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and runs out.

———————

“You fucker,” Steve says loudly as soon as he’s in the trailer, accusing finger pointing at Eddie, who raises his hands like a kid with a cookie jar and crumbs on their face.

“I don’t know what I did, but I apologize.”

“No, shut up, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to plan a Valentine’s date for me and then not tell me! Fuck! Eds, I’m so sorry.” He deflates, hand coming down and shoulders slumping. “I wish I could tell you I had something planned, but I didn’t. And I know there’s ways for me to remember, there’s calendars and sticky notes and shit, and I didn’t do any of that and I have no one to blame but myself and I’m sorry.”

Eddie stands, walking over to Steve to pull him into a hug. “Darling, I need you to listen to me on this, okay?” He asks seriously, pushing Steve’s head back to drop a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t care.” He waits until Steve’s brow begins to furrow before continuing. “I don’t care that you forgot. I don’t care that there might be ways to help you remember. I like you for you, not for whatever mask you wore in high school, even if I did have an embarrassing crush on you back then. Point is I’m here for you now, and the you that I’m in love with sometimes forgets some things. Who cares? Not me. I’ll never care. Every day with you is an adventure, Stevie. All the big dramatic love confessions in those romance movies you like so much are basically wedding vows, I know you know this, and there’s a reason sickness and health are in there. Sickness is as low as a person can get. Once you’ve seen them sick, you’ve seen them hurt and upset. If you can love them then, you can love them. And I’ve seen you in sickness, sweets. There’s nothing you can do to make me love you any less. There’s nothing you can do to make me regret going all out for something that made you happy, even if the reason behind it has to shift.”

Steve blinks back tears. “I hate you.”

“Mhm. Love you too. Give me a kiss, sweetheart.”

He does, pressing in close, keeping it closed-mouth but pouring in all his devotion until Eddie feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Whoa,” he murmurs when they pull back, then grins at Steve, keeping him close. “What’d I tell you, about your lips, they’re dangerous, sweets.”

“Shuddup,” Steve says, and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. “I love you so much.” He pulls back suddenly. “Robin gave me the rest of the day off, because she’s the best platonic soulmate ever, and if you’re not busy, can I take you on a date?”

“Steve,” Eddie starts, and Steve will never get over the way that Eddie just says his name. He’s so whooped. “Is this to make up for yesterday?”

Steve shakes his head. Eddie gives him a look. Steve hesitantly nods.

Eddie sighs and rests their foreheads together. “You don’t need to do that, baby.” At one point they started swaying together, and now they’re dancing in the kitchen to no music, and Steve could cry with how in love he is.

“But… you did all that, and didn’t even mention it when I forgot, and Robin says we deserve each other but I kinda feel like you’re a better man than I will ever be-”

“Steve,” Eddie says again, punctuating it with a kiss. “I’m serious. I don’t need it. You don’t need it. C’mon, c’mere, we can have a date right here, there’s a pizza in the freezer and I have movies, c’mon, just come sit with me. This is date enough for me.”

“Eds, c’mon, it’s not just a date-”

“Says who?” Eddie asks. He’s grinning like he knows Steve doesn’t have an answer. He’s right, but still.

“Eddie. It’s Valentine’s.”

“Yup. I know you love it, sweetheart, but it kinda goes against the Munson Doctrine.”

“I thought you did away with that when you kissed me.”

“Pretty sure you kissed me,” Eddie says on reflex, like he does every time. “But my point still stands. It’s nothing but a ploy to make people buy overpriced shit to make themselves feel better about themselves and their love life or lack thereof. I refuse to participate.”

Steve pauses. Grins. “Today’s the fifteenth.”

“That’s correct.”

“Candy’s discounted right now.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers, then starts laughing. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s go buy me candy. But that’s it. Then we’re coming back and watching a movie, deal?”

Steve grins, bright and happy and in love, as he leans in for a kiss. “Deal.”

[moomkin77]

adios, motherfucker

@steddiebingo prompt: anniversary | 3.5k words | T/M | ao3 |

Steve got himself all dolled up just to sit and wait here at this table in this stupid fancy restaurant for an hour by himself. The waiters and waitresses have long started giving him awkward and/or sympathetic glances as they pass by. 

“Are you sure you don't want to order anything yet?” a waitress asks again hesitantly on her next pass. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. He checks his watch. “Actually-” He's over this. He stands up and raps his knuckles lightly against a table. “Just give my table to some happy couple, alright? Someone in love.” 

“Oh-” The waitress nods, still a little awkwardly. “Yeah, alright.”

Steve nods back in acknowledgment before taking a deep breath, running his hands through his hair, and striding on out of there as if he hasn't just been stood up by his own boyfriend. 

He walks a whole block down to some shitty dive bar on a street corner and plops himself down on an empty barstool, waving down the nearest bartender. “Get me something strong that doesn't taste like shit,” he says. 

A man about his age with curly dark hair leans against the counter in front of him. “Sure.” He grins, taking four bottles of alcohol—two in each hand, ringed fingers curled expertly around the bottlenecks—and tipping them into a glass filled with ice. “Rough night?” 

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, just a bit bitterly, “definitely not my best, that's for sure.” 

“Hmm,” the bartender hums sympathetically, although his grin doesn’t fade. He pours in a bit of two more bottles, sprays a soda gun on top, and then slides the completed bright blue drink across the counter. “Mind if I guess?” 

Steve scoffs out another laugh and waves his left hand as he grabs the drink with his right. “Knock yourself out,” he says, glad at least someone is having fun with his misery. Amusement looks good on this bartender anyways, cheeks full and brown eyes crinkled. 

“Fancy dinner date didn't go well,” the bartender guesses, then holds up a hand. “Wait, no,” he amends almost immediately, looking Steve up and down, “fancy dinner date stood you up.” 

“Bingo,” Steve mutters around his straw, sipping steadily at his drink—which hardly tastes like alcohol at all despite the fact that he literally saw the guy grab at least four different types of straight spirits while making it. “How did you know?” 

The bartender rests his elbows on the bartop, settling his weight onto his inked-up forearms and gesturing with little flicks of his fingers as he elaborates, “You’re dressed up nice, far too nice for this shitty place to be where you meant to end up tonight, and I happen to know that there’s a fancy restaurant just down the street from here. Could’ve been a business meeting or a family dinner, but the tight shirt, cologne, and hair gel scream date—and yet you’re here alone, so, something went wrong. You’re upset, but not devastated, so no one died or got broken up with, and there’s not quite enough anger in your eyes for there to have been a fight or some huge betrayal, but there is enough that you were clearly wronged in some way. Your expression is more hurt and disappointed than anything, and your shoulders are hunched and a bit tense like you’re very aware of the fact that you’re here alone and you’re not happy about it. So, put all that together and there you have it: fancy dinner date stood you up.” 

“Holy shit,” Steve says. “You’re Sherlock Holmes.”

“Nah,” the bartender laughs, deep and musical. “I’ve just been doing this a long time, gotten real good at reading people. It’s kind of my job.”

Steve can't help but smile a little at the sound of this guy's laugh. He blames the alcohol, however much he's had so far clearly already beginning to work its magic fuzzing out the edges of his mind and making everything seem lovelier. “Well, I'm impressed,” he says. He takes another several long sips of his drink, hoping to alleviate a bit more of the bitterness still festering in his heart. “Although you did miss a few details. It wasn't just some random date who stood me up-”

“It was your girlfriend,” the bartender says, like he's so sure he already knows. 

“Boyfriend,” Steve corrects. 

“Ah.” The bartender barely even blinks and his smug smile doesn't falter. “Close enough.” He goes right back to showing off, leaning forward and tapping his fingers against the counter as those dark, discerning eyes attempt to glean even more clues from Steve’s appearance. “And it was a special occasion, wasn't it? The fancy dinner was meant to be a celebration,” he says. “A birthday?” 

“Anniversary,” Steve tells him. “One year.” 

“Oof.” The bartender leans back, sucking in air through his teeth and grimacing sympathetically. “Yeah, okay, that's worse.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah.” He stabs his straw idly at the ice in his glass. It's nearly empty already (has he really had that much that fast?). “Our relationship hasn't been the most solid lately and I was hoping I could try to fix that tonight—rekindle it or patch things up or whatever,” he mutters in unnecessary explanation, just to say it, really, as if talking about it might make it feel less shitty. He shakes his head and sighs. “But I guess not.” 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think your boyfriend’s a fucking idiot,” the bartender says bluntly. He gives a grin that's equal parts friendly solidarity and casual flirtation as he presses a hand dramatically to his chest and adds, “If I had gotten lucky enough to bag a decent and devastatingly gorgeous guy like you, I don't think I'd ever leave his side.” 

Steve laughs and his heart feels lighter. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” He finishes off the last sip of his drink, only just now beginning to become aware of the buzz of it in his veins. “I’m Steve, by the way.” 

“Eddie.” The bartender—Eddie—clears Steve's empty glass off the counter. “Are you starting a tab, Steve?” 

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “Can I have another one of the same thing?”

“‘Course you can.” Eddie's smile has turned amused again, if not just a touch concerned. “But you might want to start slowing down a bit there, big boy. That drink you just downed is gonna hit you like a truck in a minute; they don't call it an ‘Adios, Motherfucker’ for nothing.” 

Steve exhales a short puff of laughter. “It's called a what?” 

Eddie grins. “An Adios, Motherfucker,” he repeats as he starts pouring the drink. “Well, colloquially, at least. I think fancier bars’ll name it, like, Electric Iced Tea or Blue Motorcycle or something, but yeah, pretty much everyone just calls it an Adios.” He looks at Steve now with a slightly more serious edge to his eyes, raising his eyebrows. “So take it easy, alright?”

“Yeah, alright,” Steve agrees, still chuckling at the drink name. “I’ll drink this one slower, I promise.” 

“Good.” Eddie nods in satisfaction, all charm and easy smiles again. 

The bar is getting busier—an after dinner rush, probably—and Eddie receives a not-so-subtle hip check from one of his fellow bartenders in an obvious nudge to quit lingering on Steve and start helping some other customers. 

“Sorry, duty calls,” Eddie says, and he really does sound reluctant about it. He pushes the drink across the counter towards Steve. “Adios, motherfucker,” he signs off with a smirk and a little two-finger salute before he slides down the bar to serve someone else. 

Steve smiles, straw caught mindlessly between his teeth as his eyes follow Eddie. He watches him flash that bright grin at more customers, laughing with a group of girls as he pours them shots. Watches him grab someone a beer, pulling a bottle opener from his back pocket, spinning it around his finger into his palm, and cracking the bottle cap off all in one fluid motion. Watches him reach up for liquor on the top shelf, fitted black shirt riding up to give a glimpse of smooth white skin and a tattoo snaking across his hip. 

It's enough to make Steve’s cheeks flush and his blood run hotter—even without the extra heat from the alcohol that is hitting him, as Eddie said, like a truck. If he didn't feel so fuzzy, giddy, drunk, maybe he'd feel a bit guilty for the way he's staring at this other man while he's still in a relationship. But it's not like Steve would ever actually do anything, and a stare alone is not an infidelity. There’s no harm in looking. 

Besides, Eddie's eyes were all over him too, even now stealing glances just as Steve is. And that feels good too. It's nice to be looked at, to feel desirable, wanted. God knows he hasn't been getting that from his own boyfriend lately. He can hardly remember the last time he was looked at as anything other than a nuisance or a chore, touched out of anything more than obligation or a means of placation, loved in a way that burned. It had been there once, desire and warmth, but somewhere down the line it’d been lost. Steve had almost forgotten what it felt like, how much he’s missed it. 

So Steve lets himself indulge in looking and being looked at, and that's all that it will ever be. Whatever fire he feels for this random hot bartender is for himself and himself only, whatever lustful thoughts he has about Eddie’s lips or hands or hips locked away firmly in the realm of imagination and fantasy, never to enter reality. Because even like this, drunk and jilted, the idea of cheating is unfathomable to Steve. 

“You look very pensive,” Eddie comments when he makes his way back around to Steve, and his voice distracts him. 

Steve blinks. “What?” 

“Deep in thought,” Eddie clarifies. He leans against the bar and raises his eyebrows, another little smirk playing on those pretty lips. “You contemplating breaking up with your dumbass boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Steve matches his expression without missing a beat. There’s no harm in flirting either. 

“Yeah, I would.” Eddie’s grin widens and he shrugs innocently. “He sounds like a piece of shit, taking you for granted and ditching you on your anniversary. I got a feeling you probably deserve a whole lot better than that.”

Those words, though said light and casual, land with more impact than Eddie likely intended. It thuds solidly into Steve’s chest, the realization that yeah, actually, maybe he kind of does deserve better. It's funny, up until now the idea of leaving had seemed unfathomable to him too. He ducks his head, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Yeah, I think you're probably right.” 

“‘Course I’m right, sweetheart,” Eddie says confidently. “I told you, I'm good at reading people.”  

Steve unsuccessfully bites back a smile at the pet name, eyes slow and wandering as he looks back up at Eddie. “Do you think-” 

“Fucking hell, Steve, there you are!” a familiar and pissed off voice interrupts what he was about to say. Steve turns around to find his boyfriend marching over to him in a huff. “I went to the restaurant but they told me you already gave our table away.” 

Steve stares at him, more shocked and bewildered than anything. “Our reservation was two hours ago, Tommy.” 

Tommy stops in front of Steve with his arms crossed. “Okay, so I'm a little bit late-” 

“Two hours is not a little-”

“I’m a little bit late and I have to find you here in this shitty bar already practically eye-fucking some grungy-ass bartender!”

“I was not-”

“Are you actually fucking him too? Is that why you just couldn't wait to run off here?” 

“Oh my god.” Steve laughs incredulously, grabbing his drink and gulping down nearly half of what's left—because fuck taking it slow, he needs all the help that alcohol can give him right now. He shakes his head. “Do you even know how insane you sound right now?”

Tommy scoffs. “Oh, right, so you can accuse me of cheating like every other week, but when I turn it back on you suddenly I’m the crazy one?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Yeah. Because I wouldn't—I haven't, but you have. I know you have!” His voice rises with anger and emotion, loud enough to get the whole bar turning to stare at them. “You come home fucking smelling like it!” 

“Jesus, Steve, you really wanna do this now?” Tommy says, sighing wearily as if he's not the one who started the damn argument in the first place. “It's our anniversary.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Another laugh shudders out of him; Steve can't help it; he can't fucking believe this. “It's our fucking anniversary, and you know what? I think it's the last one we're ever gonna have. I can't do this anymore, Tommy. I’m done—we're done.”

Tommy seems taken aback for a second, like the idea of Steve leaving had been unfathomable to him as well, but then he blinks and shakes his head, dismissive as always. “You're drunk, babe. You don't know what you're saying.” 

“Yes, I do-” 

“No, you don't.” Tommy grabs Steve's arm, fingers pressing hard into his bicep as he tries to tug him from his seat. “Come on, let's go home. We can still-” 

Steve recoils, yanks his arm out of Tommy's grasp. “Don't fucking touch me.” 

Tommy reaches for him again. “Steve-” 

“Hey!” Eddie intervenes then, tone sharp and dangerous enough that it makes Tommy stop before he can get another grip on Steve. “Let’s keep our hands to ourselves, alright?” 

Tommy turns his ire onto the bartender, sneering, “Stay out of this, freak.” 

“Get out of my bar, dickwad,” Eddie retorts. 

“That's exactly what I'm trying to do,” Tommy snaps. He rolls his eyes irritably and levels a stern glare back on Steve. “Steve, let's go. You're making a scene.” 

“You're making a scene,” Steve protests. He feels like he's going crazy, unsolid in his body and dizzy from the emotional rollercoaster of this argument. “You're the one who came in here shouting at me first! God-” He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair like that might help ground him a little. “I can't believe I was going to try to fix us tonight. I'm not your fucking dog on a leash, Tommy, not anymore. I meant it when I said I’m done. So just leave- just leave me alone.” 

A muscle jumps in Tommy’s jaw and he seethes like he wants to keep fighting, but between Eddie’s warning glare and the giant security guard slowly shifting closer at the bartender’s subtle gesturing, he seems to come to the conclusion that Steve isn’t worth all that trouble. “Fine.” Tommy throws up his hands and takes a step back. “Suit yourself. You can go shack up with that loser bartender now, you fucking slut, see if I care. We’ll just see how long it takes for you to come crawling back once you sober up and realize that you're nothing without me,” he snarls before finally turning on his heel to leave. 

Steve takes a swig of his drink. “Adios, motherfucker,” he retorts to Tommy’s retreating back. He watches until his now-ex-boyfriend is completely gone and then looks around, flinging an arm out as if to dismiss all the nosy onlookers still staring at him. “Show’s over!” He turns back to the bar and slumps against it, dropping his head heavily into his hands, fingers curling in his hair. “Fuck.” 

“You okay, man?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah.” Steve sighs and lifts his head. 

“You don't live with that bastard, do you?” 

“Yeah. Shit.” 

“Have you got anywhere else you can go, someone else you can stay with?” 

Steve shakes his head. His best friend, Robin, is out of town with her girlfriend this weekend (because she's actually in a normal healthy relationship with a partner who adores her—and no, Steve's not jealous or bitter, what are you talking about?) and she's the only one he could even think to call right now. His family doesn't really speak to him anymore and most of his other friends are friends of Tommy’s. Fuck. Maybe Tommy was right, Steve really doesn't have much left without him. He swallows down how thoroughly miserable that makes him feel. “No, I’ll, uh- I can just sleep in my car tonight probably, and I'll figure something else out tomorrow.” 

Eddie considers him for a moment with a little scrunched up frown. “Yeah, I can't in good conscience let you do that,” he decides. “Look, um—not to be weird, because I know I’m a total stranger, and please don't take this the wrong way—but my place is just around the corner from here and I've got a pull-out couch you can crash on if you need to,” he offers. He gives a small smile and raises his hands in good faith, making things light though still just as genuine. “I promise I won't try to kill you in your sleep or take advantage of you or anything.” 

Steve licks his teeth, tilting his head. “What if I want you to?” 

“You want me to kill you in your sleep?” Eddie lifts an eyebrow, teasing, deflecting. 

“No, I meant—” Steve shakes his head, bites his lip. “What if I want you to take advantage of me? What if…I don't want to be alone tonight?” 

“You just ended a year-long relationship, sweetheart, give yourself a minute.” 

“Yeah, no, but I'm fine. That’d been falling apart for a while now—tonight just made it official, but I’ve already had time. I’m over it, I’m okay.” 

“Steve.” Eddie leans forward and reaches a hand up to Steve's face, a brief and featherlight touch as he brushes his thumb across Steve's cheek. “You're crying.” 

“What- no, I’m-” Steve pulls back and wipes at his eyes. His fingers come away wet. “Shit.” He must be drunker than he thought if he couldn't even feel his own tears running down his face. He must be a lot sadder than he thought, too. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles sympathetically, soft and kind. “So I'm not gonna sleep with you, man, not tonight, but I can give you a safe place to rest if you want it.” 

Steve nods. “Okay, yeah.” He hates the way his voice sounds, rough and cracked and pathetic, still rubbing furiously at his eyes trying to get them to quit welling up. Now that he's aware of his tears he can't seem to make them fucking stop. He's stronger than this, he knows he is. God, no wonder Eddie doesn't want to fuck him. Steve’s a mess. 

Finishing his drink helps, and so does simply taking a few minutes to hide in his hands and suck in several deep, measured breaths. Over the next hour or so, as Steve waits for Eddie’s shift to be over, slowly his eyes become drier and he sits a little straighter. He lets his gaze follow Eddie again, something to focus on—not quite as lustfully as before, just watching him work. That helps too. 

By the time they walk to Eddie's apartment and get the couch set up, Steve has pulled himself together enough to feel like he more or less at least bears a resemblance to his usual self again. As Eddie bids him goodnight and turns to leave for his own room, Steve ventures one last attempt at seduction, taking Eddie by the hand and asking, “Are you sure I can't tempt you?”

Eddie just smiles and shakes his head. “Another time,” he says, and it sounds like a promise, squeezing Steve's hand. “Besides, it's better this way. Wouldn't want our anniversary to be on the same day as your douchebag ex anyways.” 

“Yeah…” Steve agrees, managing a small smile in return and letting go. 

While it’s still hard not to feel rejected, he knows that Eddie’s refusal isn't something cruel, it's sweet. Eddie’s not saying ‘never’, he’s just saying ‘not tonight’, allowing Steve the space and time to fully untangle himself from Tommy first; for now only wanting to make sure that Steve's safe and asking nothing in return. Leaving it open so that maybe one day, when Steve has settled back on his own two feet, if he still wants to come back and seek Eddie out again, maybe then they could start something real, something more than just one night of meaningless sex borne out of a sad and lonely boy’s desperation to be loved. And there’s a type of love in that too, isn't there—the kindness of a stranger? It’s not quite the love Steve had hoped for from today, but maybe it's exactly the love he needed. 

So he doesn't push it, doesn't argue or insist or continue to throw himself at him. Steve just kisses Eddie quickly on the cheek instead and tells him, “Thank you.” 

[moomkin77]

Hopper is trying to enjoy his anniversary dinner with his wife at Enzo’s, in spite the fact that Diane is pissed at him and he doesn’t want to be there, when he suddenly hears, “Mr Hopper.”

Hopper does not roll his eyes when he looks away from his wife’s empty chair to six year old Steve Harrington next to him, “Yes?”

The kid is in a suit. Should Hopper have worn a suit?

“I’m okay, Mr Hopper.”

Well, that got Hopper’s attention. His eyes flicker from the kid to the table with his clearly whisper-arguing parents. Steve certainly looked okay so, “Good?”

“I’m gonna ask Mama if I can get ice cream,” Steve tells him. “If she says no, I’m going to cry real loud ‘til she gives up. I’m not really sad, Mr. Hopper. I’m just really good at crying. Please don’t arrest my dad. He didn’t hurt me.”

Hopper gives him a bewildered look so Steve compromises, “Okay, you can arrest my dad but after I get ice cream.”

Hopper barely manages not to smile at this ridiculous kid when he says, “Are you telling me about a premeditated tantrum?”

Steve thinks about it, “Yes.”

[moomkin77]

Post-Starcourt AU where Steve and Robin kinda just wander off in the all chaos.

They’re just walking around because Robin can’t go home like this and Steve doesn’t want to go to his house. Robin also doesn’t want to go to Steve’s house. There were monsters there once.

So, they’re just moseying along still feeling the high of Russian drugs and monster fighting when a minivan pulls up next to them. They roll down the window and it’s…Tommy’s mom? Telling them to get in the car right now, “Steven Christopher.”

Tommy’s mom, Maria, heard about the mall fire on the radio. She vaguely remembered Tommy mentioning that Steve worked there and gave his house a ring. Her mom brain went into overdrive when she got no answer.

The unknowing made her so sick with worry that she got into her car to drive out to the mall to check herself. That’s what she was doing when she found them and all that worry wore on her face.

So, they listen. They kinda have to listen so they got in the car. She asks questions. They answer some of them.

“We’re fine,” Steve tells her even though his lips is bleeding and he’s all bruised up. He smells like smoke and blood, turning to Robin in the backseat, “Robbie. This is like, my mom.”

Robin thinks, whoa.

Steve’s mom is like nothing she was imagining and she takes them home to a regular house? It’s cozy and clean, but like. Robin thinks her house might be nicer than this. Honestly, weirdest thing she experienced tonight.

She immediately revised that thought when Maria gives them both a once over and sends them to bed. She follows Steve upstairs and watches him flop into bed next to - “Tommy H?”

Steve’s cuddling up beside Tommy instead of providing any sort of explanation so Robin puts the pieces together and concludes, “Tommy H is your brother?!”

[moomkin77]

Eddie fakes an asthma attack so he can hang out in the nurse’s office only to find Concussion 3000 already laying on the comfy cot and - “Wait, don’t - don’t leave me with him.”

Eddie looks at the retreating back of the school nurse and then back at Steve who had his arm thrown over his eyes. He holds his hands out like Steve might make a sudden movement and says, “Don’t die.”

“I will out of spite if you don’t shut up.”

“Then die, I don’t care.”

Those were the last words out of Eddie’s mouth before they both learn that enough head injuries can cause seizures.

[moomkin77]

It’s ladies night at the gay bar Eddie works at which means no men allowed, which means, ‘how the hell did this dork in a polo make it pass the bouncer and how the hell has no one complained about him yet?’

Eddie watches the admittedly gorgeous guy approach the bar and ask for a drink. Eddie responds with, “How did you get past Frank?”

“The bouncer?” Pretty boy asks. “Oh, I asked if I could come in.”

“You asked?”

“Yeah?”

“And he let you?”

“Yeahhh?”

“None of these girls are going to go for you,” Eddie tells him in case he somehow missed that this was the queerest bar in town. “They’re lesbians. They like women.”

“I know!” The guy - Steve, Eddie will find out later - smiles, bright and big. “Isn’t that great?!”

Something in Eddie curdles with disgust because, “Nice try, buddy. You’re not going to ‘turn’ a lesbian.”

“Hope not,” Steve laughs and then pulls a stack of Polaroids out of his pocket. “Look at this.”

He holds one out to Eddie, showing him the image of a girl looking done-as-shit with the camera in her face. There’s a phone number written at the bottom.

“This is Robin," Steve says fondly. “Shes my best friend, and a lesbian, and the best person I’ve ever met, and I love her…she deserves a girlfriend so I’m-“

“Advertising her?”

“Helping get her a date,” Steve finishes. “This will make a great story at their wedding.”

“That’s insane…and strangely endearing.”

“Yeah, I’m like that,” Steve says, sliding over a Polaroid of Robin giving the camera the bird. “That’s my phone number too. Just so you know.”

[moomkin77]

(Continuing in this universe and this one)

Eddie is not having an asthma attack.

Or well…

He’s trying not to.

He shakes his inhaler, brings it to his lips. He breathes in, holds it, breathes out, and…nothing.

Well, not nothing but it does very little to release the vice tightening in his chest. So Eddie finds himself back in the nurse’s office, cursing Midwest winters.

Nurse Martin hands him a nebulizer and sends him to sit in the back room while she goes to the office to call his uncle. Eddie thinks, well.

He thinks, at least I can suffocate on the comfy cot.

He thinks, are you kidding me??

There, on the only cot in the room that doesn’t feel like lying in concrete, is Steve Harrington.

Eddie thinks he might be sleeping, slack-jawed and eyes closed. He has a notebook clutched loosely to his chest, a poorly-drawn basketball court covered in random (to Eddie) X’s and arrows is on the page.

Eddie doesn’t actually say anything, just grabs a chair and drags it over to an outlet so he can plug the nebulizer in.

Steve’s eyes snap open as soon as he touches the chair and he watches him almost vacantly before saying, “Scene of the crime.”

Steve sounds tired. He looks tired. Eddie warns through wheezing, “If you have a seizure…”

“I’ll try not to,” Steve replies absently, frowning at the rasp in Eddie’s voice. “You sound like shit. What’s that thing you got?”

“Helps me breathe.”

Steve nods but he doesn’t get up. Fora while, the only sound in the room is the nebulizer.

“Pretty shit drawing,” Eddie eventually says when it becomes easier to breathe. He gestures to Steve’s open notebook, “What is it?”

“Not a drawing,” Steve hums, flipping the notebook face down. There’s a second where it seems like he isn’t going to eleborate but then the jock adds, “I figure Coach isn’t gonna let me play the rest of the season. I might be able to convince him to let me be an assistant coach.”

Oh.

That’s probably devastating for a jock.

“Sounds like you’re putting the carton in front of the horses, man,” Eddie hums with a wave. He’s going for comfort, not really sure that he gets there when he adds, “Not like concussions are forever.”

Steve stops Eddie’s waving hand and directs the nebulizer back to his face before saying, “The shakes might be the bigger issue.”

Ah. Well..

“Most people who have a seizure never have one again. Could’ve been a one-n-done.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says, rolling onto his back. He makes eye contact with the ceiling when he says, “I’ve had three.”