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steddiemunsonsworld · 9 months

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It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

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When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

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steddiemunsonsworld · 9 months

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Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level.

But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie.

Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them.

Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms.

Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face.

And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery.

How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away.

As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that?

He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine.

But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated.

But maybe he’ll always be the fool.

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steddiemunsonsworld · 10 months

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Soulmates, but with the British meaning of “mate.” Two homies bound by a platonic string of fate.

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steddiemunsonsworld · 10 months

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ROBIN BUCKLEY & STEVE HARRINGTON STRANGER THINGS | S03E07: The Bite

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steddiemunsonsworld · 10 months

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It's a reoccurring pattern with Steve, getting come out to and then instantly shitting on the person's taste in people.

Robin comes out to him and tells him she liked Tammy 'The Muppet' Thompson and Steve immediately jumps onto making fun of her because obviously, he will. She sounds like a goddamn muppet! Robin may deny it, but he knows she knows he's right. And he never lets her forget it.

After the Byers family moves back to Hawkins, Steve gets closer to the Byer-Hopper twins (Not blood related twins, but with how similar they are they might as well be). He takes note of the way Will carries himself, the way he stares at Micheal Asshole Wheeler of all people when he thinks no one is looking.

The kid doesn't come out that quickly, so with Robin's advice, Steve takes his time, making it known how okay he was with Will's sexuality, even if he did have standards low enough to beat Robin's terrible Tammy Thompson taste (He says this to her and she reacts as predictably as ever- by throwing something at him).

When Will does come out to him, Steve makes sure he only freezes for a literal second, not wanting the kid to panic like he'd seen Robin do back then. Of course, as soon as he's done comforting and reassuring the kid that he's completely fine with him being gay, he immediately jumps onto making fun of his terrible crush on Mike, finding great joy in the bright blush burning the teen's face.

The next time someone comes out to him, he's more caught off guard than he was with Robin.

Not because he was shocked that Eddie liked guys, no. He might be stereotyping a little, but no straight guy goes that close to another man and calls him Big Boy all low and seductively, a teasing grin curling his lips, a glint in his eyes-

You get the point.

The reason why he's shocked is because Eddie comes out to him, and when Steve asks about crushes, Eddie says,

"Oh, I had the worst crush on you in high school."

Steve sits there, his jaw practically on the ground. The way Eddie says it, all casual, not caring about the consequences or the effect it has on Steve.

"Wh- I- Me?" He stammered out, incredulous. "Dude, I was the biggest asshole back then!"

Eddie chuckles at that, a low sound that sends further heat into Steve's already flushed body. "The me back then did not give a shit, let me tell you that man." He turns to Steve then, giving him a slow look, a gaze more like, and smirks. "I certainly understood why the ladies were so desperate for you and your gorgeous locks."

His heart is pounding like crazy, an audible thump in his ears. Thoughts race in his head, one after the other, all jumbled up until what comes out of Steve's mouth next is,

"So what, you've got a thing for douchebags? Seriously?"

Eddie shoots him another look, more confused than ever. "What?"

"You heard me," Steve says, feeling the next words come out of his mouth like a waterfall. "I was a huge asshole in high school dude. How the hell did you have a crush on me back then? Did you seriously have no standards? You'd really stoop that low just because I had nice hair? I have good hair, and I'm nice now! What's stopping you from-"

Steve cuts himself off with an audible clack of his teeth, a sound that most often comes from Robin when she shuts herself up.

Goddamnit Robin.

Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, the cigarette between his fingers burning away. Steve wants to watch the smoke curl away, but he's too transfixed on Eddie's doe-like gaze.

Then Eddie's features smooth over, a terrible, terrible grin curling its way onto his lips, deepening that dimple on his cheeks. He leans forward eyes lidded just slightly, and says,

"What's stopping me from what, sweetheart?"

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steddiemunsonsworld · 1 year

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…I’m starving, darling. Let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world…

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steddiemunsonsworld · 1 year

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For a few weeks, Claudia thinks that she’s collecting her son from the hospital after he’s visited Max Mayfield.

Then she finds out that’s only partly the truth.

Usually Dustin’s already waiting in the parking lot for her, Steve by his side. They chat, Steve insisting that he could drive Dustin home, it’s no trouble, and Claudia thanks him for the offer, kindly refuses; the poor boy looks run ragged these days.

One day neither of them are there, so she heads inside. There’s still a long line at reception, the aftermath of the earthquake, so she finds a nurse in a corridor, describes Dustin—my boy, about this high, curly hair (smiles like the sun, she wants to add)—and the nurse smiles, says, “Follow me, ma’am.”

She has a passing thought that this isn’t the direction to Max’s room, but reasons that she must’ve been moved. The nurse leaves her at the door before being called away.

Claudia opens the door quietly.

It’s not Max who’s in the bed.

She recognises him from the posters—his eyes first, then his long hair. He’s holding a battered copy of The Hobbit, the spine broken, and he’s reading so softly that she can’t quite make out the words.

And there, lying so peacefully against Eddie Munson’s shoulder, is Dustin. He’s fast asleep.

Eddie’s got an arm around him, and he’s slowly running his fingers through Dustin’s hair the way she used to when he was little, to help him drift off.

He looks up from his book at the sound of her entering the room, and his face goes as white as the bedsheets.

She takes one step forward.

Eddie inhales, breath stuttering, and it’s a fragile, heartbreaking sound.

Dustin stirs. “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” He lifts his head up from Eddie’s shoulder, and his eyes meet Claudia’s, and he’s suddenly wide awake, scrabbling upright. “Mom.”

Eddie’s mouth keeps moving, like he’s desperately searching for words. “I-I’m not—” His breathing catches again, eyes wide; Claudia realises, with a heavy heart, that he’s deeply afraid of her. “It’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”

“Mom,” Dustin says again. Pleading.

And of course, Claudia never once believed the frenzied cries about Satanic rituals. Still, throughout that awful Spring Break, knowing that her son was lying to her, all she could think was that she was once a teenager, too—remembered how easy it could be to get caught up in something scary, something beyond your control.

She looks into Eddie Munson’s eyes, and knows deep in her bones that she has nothing to fear from him.

She beckons Dustin over, hands him the car keys.

“There’s a pillow on your seat, hon,” she says softly, because there’s a sleepy haze returning to his eyes despite his obvious concern for Eddie.

Dustin blinks, so unsure.

She smiles reassuringly. It’s okay. I promise.

“Okay,” Dustin says slowly, and he looks back at Eddie, raising his eyebrows like he wants to convince him of something. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie nods, but doesn’t speak.

He lifts his hand in a weak wave as Dustin leaves. It’s shaking. Claudia sits down by the bed. Puts her hand in his.

Eddie stares at her.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry for what we did to you.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You didn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t you.”

Claudia shakes her head, too, slowly—prays that he can really hear this. “No, no, please. Listen to me. I’m so sorry.”

It would be an easy thing to say, that the town of Hawkins wronged Eddie Munson. But that would make it sound so impersonal: like it was inevitable, just one of these tragic things that happened, nothing to be done about it. Like earthquakes.

But that wasn’t true. People were behind this, and Claudia knows that they are all the town, every single one of them. And what did it say about them, that the fear and mistrust and cruelty spread like wildfire? That not one adult in the town hall stood up, begged people to stop, to think again?

“Th-thank you,” Eddie says. It sounds so uncertain, almost like a question.

Claudia squeezes his hand. “You were with Dustin, weren’t you?” she asks. “When the earthquake…”

His hand is shaking again.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I-I’m sorry, I—” He swallows. “I didn’t want a-anything to happen to him.”

“Oh, honey.” She reaches out cautiously, and when he doesn’t freeze up, she cups his cheek; her heart breaks at the rough indent of a scar beneath her palm. “You’re not God.”

Eddie reaches up, pressing her hand further against his cheek. He’s crying.

Claudia wipes his tears away as much as she can. She keeps up a steady murmur: “Shh, shh. I know you kept him as safe as you could. I know, I know. Shh.”

When he starts to calm, she thanks him again, but for something lighter.

“Dusty… he was so nervous, starting high school. But his first day, when I picked him up, all he could talk about was getting invited to have lunch with… well, a club.” Claudia smiles. “Oh, he was talking a mile a minute, I could hardly keep up. But I… oh, Eddie, I understand now. That was you.”

Eddie grins back. His cheeks are still wet.

“I didn’t do much,” he says. “You’ve…” For a moment, his eyes fill up again, but they look like happy tears. “You’ve got some kid, Mrs Henderson. He’s—he’s a real gem.”

She laughs. “Oh, I know.”

It’s one of the many things she loves about Dustin: that he’s always been so unashamedly, so joyously himself.

And Eddie had clearly seen that in him, had taken him in and nurtured everything that made him so.

The door abruptly slams open.

Steve’s in the doorway; he must’ve been running, is still gasping for breath as he says, panicked, “Claudia, I can—”

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, and that’s all.

But it’s clearly enough, because Steve’s shoulders drop in relief, and then he’s shutting the door, coming to Eddie’s bedside like he belongs there, and Eddie’s smiling at him, so tenderly…

And oh, she was young, once. She knows what she’s looking at.

Of course, she doesn’t mention it, can still sense some residual anxiety radiating from them.

Instead she looks around the room, spots a pile of laundry in the corner. It’s been stuffed into a bag; she recognises that as belonging to Steve, but there’s some shirts in there that are definitely Eddie’s, entwined with Steve’s things.

She stands, but before she can even pick up the bag, it seems like Steve’s read her mind, because he’s stepping forward, stopping her with a touch to her forearm.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I’m taking care of it, Claudia.”

She pats his cheek, lingers there until he smiles. “I know, sweetheart. But… would you let me? It’s the least I can do.”

Eddie reaches up from the bed, squeezes Steve’s elbow. Steve sighs, briefly leaning into him.

“Okay,” he says. “That’s… thank you.”

“As long as you do one thing for me.”

“Of course,” Steve says immediately. “Anything.”

Claudia brings out a notepad and pen from her bag. “Write me a list? Anything you’d like, I’ll be shopping anyway.” She looks Steve in the eyes, adds firmly but with a smile, “It’s no trouble.”

Steve takes the notepad, twirls the pen hesitantly.

“Anything you’d like,” Claudia repeats. She glances at Eddie, says, “You know, if you want a different shampoo than what they have here, things like that, or—”

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Eddie says quickly. “Whatever’s on sale is—”

“I know, honey,” Claudia says patiently, “but what would you actually like?”

The last extended hospital stay she’d had was fifteen years ago; Dustin had been a preemie, and one of the few things that kept her calm was the familiar: scents, food, people…

Steve chuckles. “I’ve got it.” He writes on the notepad, and Eddie must be able to read it, because he suddenly turns a little pink.

“How did you know that?”

Steve shrugs, smiles. “I notice things.” He writes down just a couple more things, then hands the list back. “Thank you so much, Claudia.”

“Any time, sweetie, I mean it.” She hugs Steve goodbye, then reaches one last time for Eddie’s hand on the bedspread. “It was lovely to meet you, Eddie. Hope you can go home soon.”

“Yeah, me—me too. Thank you, Mrs Hend—” Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie stops. Smiles. “Thank you, Claudia.”

She looks back once to shut the door behind her. Steve’s pulling up a chair, as close as he can get, and as the door closes, she hears him tut softly, gently swiping at the remaining trail of tears on Eddie’s face: “Hey, what—?”

They look like they belong together. Dustin’s boys.

Dustin’s asleep in the car, pillow pressed against the window. Claudia puts the bag of laundry in the trunk before quietly slipping into her seat.

Dustin wakes anyway as they drive out of the parking lot. “Eddie… okay?”

“He is, honey. Steve’s with him.”

“Mm… good.” There’s a pause, and Claudia thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then he says, tentative, “Mom?”

“Yes, Dusty?”

“If I tell you something… d’you promise to keep it private?”

“As long as it’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s not,” Dustin says firmly. “Um. Steve and Eddie, I think… I think they’re…”

Claudia smiles, nods encouragingly. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

Dustin hums in agreement. “They’ve not told me. Did I… do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” Claudia feels a lump in her throat. “You’re a good friend.”

Dustin makes an uncertain noise.

“You are, baby. They love you very much, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Dustin sighs. “I know.” His eyes are closing.

“Sorry, baby, just before you sleep—are there any candies Steve and Eddie like?”

Dustin nods. “Eddie likes anything sweet. An’ Steve…” He yawns. “Anything w’peanut butter.”

“Great. Thank you, honey.”

Dustin’s already asleep.

Claudia knows that even with what she’s learned today, she still only has half a story, if that. That there’s something more to Dustin’s exhaustion, to just how Eddie ended up in a hospital bed.

Today, she’ll do all she can. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Laundry and shopping, reading the brand of shampoo Steve wrote with a careful eye. She’ll fill her cart up with treats, things that won’t solve anything; they might make staying in that hospital room just a little easier, though. Make it feel a little warmer, a little more like home.

But first, she’ll take her boy home; she’ll park the car as close to the front door as she can get, and when he doesn’t stir, she’ll run a hand through his hair, gently put him to bed.

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steddiemunsonsworld · 1 year

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the best thing a man can do is have big brown eyes. the second best thing a man can do is be bisexual

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steddiemunsonsworld · 1 year

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Okay. Okay. No, Hopper doesn't go back to being a cop. No. He wants to settle down a bit while also still looking after the kids. He becomes Hawkins High new basketball coach, partially to make sure those dumb jocks don't mess with the kids. He hires Steve as his assistant, and honestly, Steve finally learns what it's like to have a dad. Meanwhile, Joyce and Eddie are in the bleachers gossiping while also talking about how good their guys look. They're watching them both yell with their hands on their hips when Eddie and Joyce realize they sort of have the same taste in men.

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steddiemunsonsworld · 1 year

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CWs: discussions of sexuality (particularly demisexuality, though Steve and Eddie don’t know a term for it at the time), VERY mild sexual context

Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.

He's not, like, trying to brag about it, or anything. Frankly, he's not even sure it's something he would want to brag about in the first place. It's just an objective fact.

The sky is blue. The Earth is round. Water is wet.

And Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.

Which is...well, a little bit bizarre, considering the fact that he's not entirely convinced he actually enjoys it most of the time.

At first, he chalks it up to inexperience. Everyone's first times were a little bit awkward, weren't they? Maybe everyone felt weird and a little bit off-kilter the first time someone touched them like that. Maybe everyone felt icky for hours afterwards, like something was just off. Steve had spent his childhood going to church on Sundays (at least, until he turned 10, and Richard and Susan decided he no longer needed luxuries like parents), so maybe it was just guilt.

That was a thing, right? Catholic guilt, or whatever? He'll get over it. He's sure of it.

Only...he's less sure of it several months later, when he still can't get rid of that stupid icky feeling, and he can never quite grasp what Tommy is talking about whenever the dude starts obsessing over wanting to fuck some pretty actress in whatever movie they’re watching. When he’s with a girl, he feels anxious the moment clothes start to come off, despite the fact that he wants this. He wants to have sex. He wants someone to touch him and make him feel good. He wants to do the same for someone else. But it always feels wrong.

The only part he really likes is what comes after, when he can wrap his arms around whatever girl he's with that week and just hold her - no more sex required, now that it's over and done with. That part feels good. Amazing, even. He loves having someone to cuddle up with - to make him feel less alone in his fucking mausoleum of a house. It's nice. It feels good.

He's pretty sure it's the only reason he keeps having sex in the first place. It's like a transaction. Steve gets the girls off, and in exchange, they stick around for a little while afterwards to fill the echoing silence of Steve's house with soft laughter and quiet words.

And sure...sometimes Steve sort of falls apart after they leave to get home before their curfews. Usually, it just leaves him feeling squirmy and anxious. But sometimes, when it's especially bad, Steve sits on the floor of the shower with his arms around his knees for ages and cries until the water gets cold, unable to wash the icky feeling away.

He knows he should stop doing this to himself, but God, he's so fucking lonely, and now he's made a reputation for himself. Now there are expectations, and if Steve has learned one thing from Richard Harrington, it's that living up to expectations is the most important thing in life.

So he keeps doing it. His technique gets better, despite how wrong he feels, and the girls keep coming. And Steve keeps wondering what the fuck is wrong with him - why he feels physically pleasured enough to come most of the times, but always hates himself afterwards.

Then, at the beginning of his junior year, he starts dating Nancy Wheeler.

He knows right away that this feels different from any of his other flings. Nancy is sweet, and smart, and just a bit of a firecracker, and Steve loves it. Even better, she doesn't try to get him into bed on their first date, or their second, or even their third. It's not until the pool party that things take a more intimate turn between them, and by then, Steve is smitten.

He waits for the ick to kick in while he caresses her and kisses her everywhere - waits for the feeling of weirdbadwrong to make itself known - but this time... it doesn't. This time, Steve looks down at his partner and is stunned by how beautiful she looks. It's never been like this with any of the other girls - he's never wanted any of them quite like this - and for the first time, Steve really, genuinely enjoys having sex.

There's no ick; no uncomfortable feeling in his belly that sort of makes him feel ill. There's just Nancy, who looks and sounds beautiful, and smiles at him as they doze off together afterwards. It's amazing. It's perfect.

Steve thinks that maybe he's normal, after all.

He should know better than to get his hopes up, by now.

The next year is a whirlwind of absolute insanity. There are monsters, and alternate dimensions, and little kids with honest-to-God superpowers, and funerals... and sex becomes the least of Steve's worries.

He and Nancy are only intimate a handful of other times, after that first night (it's hard to get in the mood when all either of them can think about is how the first time they did this, her best friend was dying), and despite everything else going on, the ick, at least, stays away. It seems to be proof that Steve isn't broken or weird. He just needed some time to get used to sex.

He realizes how wrong he is the first time he tries to hook up with someone after Nancy breaks his heart, when the ick comes back. After that, he only tries once more, and then he just stops trying to score entirely... pretends he's just lost his touch and feels secretly relieved every time Robin Buckley puts a tally under the "You Suck" side of the whiteboard in the back room.

It goes on like this until March of 1986, when Eddie Munson comes barrelling into his life and changes everything.

His relationship with Eddie is unlike any he's ever had. They start out as tentative friends after everything with Vecna is finally over, and then it grows from there.

They hang out with the kids at Steve's place, which eventually turns into them hanging out without the kids. They talk about the weather, and the Upside Down, and music, and DnD campaigns. Anything and everything that comes to mind. Eddie tells Steve how he came to live with Wayne, and in return, Steve tells Eddie about his parents - about how he sometimes feels like he's haunting his own home.

(Eddie starts making excuses to stay the night more often, after that conversation, and Steve doesn't mention it, but he notices.)

And one day he looks over at Eddie, who's talking animatedly to El while Steve pops popcorn for their movie night, and suddenly, it hits him like a goddamn truck.

Eddie Munson is beautiful.

Steve can barely breathe as the realization takes hold, because he's not used to seeing people this way. He can appreciate when someone is objectively attractive, sure, but he rarely looks at someone and wants like this. He rarely looks at a person and wonders what their lips would feel like against his own, or what sort of sounds they make when they come, or what they'd look like with Steve's love bites riddling their skin...

He's only looked at one other person this way before: Nancy, after they'd been dating for a few weeks and had gotten to know each other better.

He's so shocked by the sheer amount of wanting he's feeling for Eddie that he blows right past the gay panic part of his bisexual awakening, straight into bumbling idiot with a crush territory.

And really, it must be obvious, because two weeks later, Eddie's gaze locks onto Steve's while they're sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, and Eddie smiles. It's a soft, gentle thing - so different from the maniacal grins he gives the kids when they're all hanging out together - and it steals all of the breath from Steve's lungs. His heart races as the air around them shifts, and for once, it's out of excitement rather than anxiety.

Eddie's voice is devastatingly timid when he murmurs, "Stevie, can I kiss you?"

Steve feels like he could cry out of happiness. His answer is a simple nod, and when Eddie kisses him slowly, sweetly, chastely, Steve can feel any remaining anxiety melting away.

Because this kiss isn't a demand, or a prelude to all of those other activities that Steve wants but isn't sure he's quite ready for with Eddie, yet. It's not a challenge.

It's a promise - a promise that this thing that's been blossoming between them over the last few months is real. Wordlessly, Eddie vows to treat him with care, and Steve does the same in kind.

And it's perfect.

They take things slow - slower than Steve and Nancy did, and definitely slower than Steve's ever gone with anyone else. Steve doesn't ask for sex, now that he no longer has a persona to uphold, and Eddie doesn't push. They're both perfectly content to share soft kisses and quiet words while they lay tangled together in one of their beds with their pajamas on, for now.

It takes more than a month for Eddie to bring it up.

"Baby, can I ask you something?" Eddie asks quietly.

They're curled up in Steve's bed after a long day taking the kids swimming at the quarry, and neither of them have said much for the last half hour or so. Eddie has been flipping through one of his D&D books, and Steve has been laying with his head pillowed on Eddie's chest, listening to his boyfriend's occasional mutterings about tieflings and trolls and some sort of forest quest. He's not even sure Eddie realizes he mutters to himself while he reads, and that just makes Steve love it even more.

Steve just hums sleepily and props his chin on Eddie's sternum to look up at him, face immediately falling into a frown. Eddie looks contemplative and a little nervous, and Steve already hates whatever this conversation is going to be about. He doesn't like it when Eddie is upset. It breaks his heart every time.

Swallowing thickly, he pushes himself off of Eddie's chest so they can lay on their sides facing each other, hands tangling between them because they're always touching these days. "What's up, Eds?" Steve asks. He hopes his voice is encouraging and doesn't give away the anxiety beginning to roll in his stomach.

Eddie hesitates, face scrunching up adorably like it always does when he's thinking too hard about something.

"We don't have sex," Eddie finally blurts out unceremoniously.

Steve's heart plummets, but he tries to keep his tone light when he speaks. "Is there a question in that...?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie won't meet his eyes, and it makes Steve feel strangely off-kilter. Eddie hasn't been this skittish around him in months.

"I don't know, just... doesn't that bother you, or something?" he says finally.

Steve deflects. "Does it bother you?"

He's dreading Eddie's answer.

But he only dreads it for a moment, because Eddie's eyes go wide and apologetic immediately. "No! No, Stevie, I'm fine with what we've been doing," Eddie says quickly. "I mean, I want to do more, you know? But it's totally fine if you don't. I guess I'm just worried I'm... boring you?"

Steve's expression must be incredulous, because Eddie backtracks instantly.

"Wow, okay, that sounded way worse out loud than it did in my head. Jesus H. Christ," Eddie sighs.

"Why would you think you're boring me?" Steve asks, unable to let it go, because it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing Eddie has ever said (and that is a high bar to clear). In what world could Eddie - funny, unpredictable, unbearably sweet Eddie - be boring?

Eddie winces, then shrugs. "I don't know, man, you're just..." He pauses; Steve waits. "You're Steve Harrington, you know? It's not exactly a secret that you got around while we were in school. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!" Eddie clarifies. "Whatever you did before doesn't bother me because it doesn't matter anymore, right? But you obviously like having sex, and we obviously haven't done anything more than kiss yet, and I was just wondering if that bothered you, I guess..."

For a moment, Steve considers lying. He considers telling Eddie that it doesn't bother him, but that he's ready for more if Eddie is, because it sounds like Eddie might be, and Steve doesn't want to disappoint him. He's pretty sure he could have a decent enough time having sex with Eddie if that's what Eddie wants. He could bite the bullet in the name of keeping everything else - the amazing parts of this little thing between them that make every part of Steve's soul feel warm and comforted and held.

So, yeah. He considers it - lying and putting on a good face while he gives Eddie what everyone always seems to want from Steve Harrington - but then he meets Eddie's eyes and reconsiders.

Eddie's gaze is open and kind and nervous, not expectant. He looks vulnerable and more than a little self-conscious, and in that moment, Steve decides that he's not going to let this thing with Eddie meet the same uncomfortable end as all the others. If Eddie can be vulnerable, if Eddie can be open and honest, then Steve can meet him halfway and do the same.

"What if I don't?" he asks, voice weak and unsure. He sounds so small - like a child, almost - and he hates it.

Eddie frowns. "What if you don't what?"

"You said it was obvious that I liked having sex," Steve replies shakily. He can't quite meet Eddie's eyes, but he sees Eddie's hesitant nod out of the corner of his eye. "Well... what if I don't?"

Steve wonders if the silence that follows feels as deafening and suffocating to Eddie as it does to him.

"I don't understand..." Eddie says. His voice is soft, like he's afraid he might scare Steve away, and Steve realizes suddenly that his own hands are trembling.

"I-" he murmurs haltingly. "It's just... sex is sort of weird for me, sometimes." He pauses, then quietly adds, "Most of the time, actually." He chances a look at Eddie's face and immediately wishes he hadn't, because Eddie's frown is deep and concerned and Steve doesn't know how to fix it.

"Okay," Eddie says slowly, giving Steve's hands a reassuring squeeze. "Do you think you could tell me what you mean by that?"

And, well... Steve does his best to explain. He tells Eddie about the way he'd felt icky back in high school, whenever he hooked up with some random girl in his class. He tells Eddie that he'd wanted to have sex, but for some reason it always seemed to feel like something was off. Sometimes, it felt like something was missing. Other times, it felt like too much.

Steve tells him about the times when he felt wrong-footed and uncomfortable for hours afterwards, even long after the girl had left. He quietly recounts, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, those few occasions that had made him feel so terrible he'd sat on the shower floor and cried until the hot water ran out, unable to wash the feeling away.

He tells Eddie everything - about those precious few times with Nancy when he'd felt normal, about his attempts after their breakup that made him feel weirdbadwrong once again, about his relief every time he scared a new girl off at Scoops with his purposefully dismal flirting.

Steve tells Eddie everything, and Eddie listens.

By the end, there are tear tracks on Steve's face, trailing downwards towards a small damp spot on his pillow, but Eddie takes it all in stride. He simply raises a hand to brush away the tears and presses his lips to Steve's forehead, all while thanking Steve for telling him, and assuring Steve that there's no pressure, with them. There's no timeline, no expectation of sex, and there never will be. Eddie is happy to wait as long as Steve needs, and if the time never comes, then that's alright, too.

The thought alone brings additional tears of relief to Steve's eyes, and he feels a part of his heart unclench when Eddie's arms wrap around him that night as they drift off to sleep, just as they've done most nights for the last month. He feels safe inside the cocoon of Eddie’s arms, in the knowledge that Eddie knows, now, and he’s not going anywhere. Any lingering anxiety dissipates entirely the following morning, when Eddie bitches and moans about being woken up for work, but still kisses Steve just as sweetly before he goes, no less adoring than the day before.

It gives Steve honest-to-God butterflies, and he feels a bit like a lovesick teenager when he watches Eddie pull out of the driveway that morning. He wonders if maybe they’ll just carry on as though nothing has changed at all.

In the end, things do change, but it doesn’t take long for Steve to realize they’ve changed for the better. Their conversation seems to have opened the door for the kind of vulnerability that Steve’s never had with anyone else before, and it’s nice. More than nice, actually. It comes with the sort of honesty and trust he’s longed for his entire life. It comes with sweet kisses that never become too insistent, and soft touches that never wander into unwanted places. For the first time, Steve can relax and let himself be cared for…let himself fall even deeper in love with Eddie Munson than he already is.

Things progress, despite remaining temporarily paused on the physical front. They tell Robin about their relationship, and after she’s done half-crying, half-laughing her way through congratulating them, she gives Eddie an astonishingly frightening shovel-talk. They tell Dustin a few days later, and then the rest of the kids and Nancy. They go on their first official date at the drive-in, where they can cuddle up without needing to worry about the prying eyes of the ignorant assholes who make up most of the population of Hawkins.

A little over a month after The Talk, Steve holds Eddie’s hand while Eddie tells his Uncle Wayne that they’re together, and after Wayne wraps Eddie up in the biggest bear-hug of all time, he does the same to Steve and assures him that as long as he never hurts Wayne’s boy, Steve will always be welcome in the Munson home. Steve doesn’t comment on the tears shining in Eddie’s eyes, but he holds Eddie extra tightly that night. Tells Eddie how proud he is. Wonders how much longer he’ll be able to stop himself from slipping up and confessing exactly how much he loves Eddie.

And one day, after months of chaste kisses and soft, conservative touches…Steve feels ready for more.

They start slow, at Eddie’s insistence and to Steve’s relief. At first, it’s nothing but the two of them laying in Eddie’s bed, jerking themselves off side by side. They’re barely touching, aside from the occasional brush of the arm, but Steve feels like he’s on fire in the best way. Eddie’s choked off gasps go straight to his dick, and they come within seconds of each other, too satisfied to be embarrassed about how quickly the whole thing happens.

The next night, when they get their hands on each other, Steve’s are trembling with nerves frayed from wondering if the icky weirdbadwrong feeling will rear its head. But Eddie’s voice is soft and soothing, and his touch is no less gentle than it always is when he wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock for the first time. Instead of the prickly, icy feeling he usually gets, Steve thinks that this feels perfect. Like slipping into a warm bath after a long day out in the cold. It doesn’t take long for him to forget all about his worry that it might feel wrong when he’s lost in Eddie’s whispered encouragement and soft touches.

He comes that night with Eddie’s name on his lips, and when his fingers tremble as he returns the favor for his boyfriend, it’s out of excitement, not fear.

Steve tells Eddie he loves him a little over a week later, after a Corroded Coffin show at the Hideout.

Eddie says it back.

And the icky feeling continues to stay away, for the most part.

Of course, there’s still a bit of a learning curve when it comes to their sex life. There are days when Steve feels detached - untethered to the world around him, like he’s just going through the motions of life - and he can’t do anything sexual without feeling a bit like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. And they never have sex when they’re angry with each other, because the one time they try, Steve breaks down halfway through, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness that courses through his veins like poison.

It’s a lot of trial and error, and many very honest conversations, but it works. Eddie is never pushy - never seems to get frustrated with Steve’s oddly fickle relationship with sex - and eventually, Steve stops getting frustrated with himself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s not broken. He just is the way he is, and he doesn’t need to change that. Every once in a while, he wishes he knew someone else who felt like this, just to have someone to talk to, but it’s hard to feel lonely when he gets to fall asleep in Eddie’s arms every single night once they move in together in 1988.

Eventually, he sort of forgets about ever feeling broken in the first place, after years spent with a man who loves him unconditionally, exactly how he is.

Until a random day in the middle of June, 2015 when Eddie comes home from teaching guitar at the music center down the road with a pamphlet.

“Steve?” Eddie calls over the sound of the slamming screen door. Steve keeps meaning to replace the spring, so it won’t slam quite so hard every time, but everytime he tries, he just gets distracted and forgets altogether.

“In here!” he replies from his place at the kitchen table, surrounded by dozens of middle school history essays.

Eddie comes striding into the kitchen with his guitar case slung over his shoulder and a half-nervous, half-excited grin on his face, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It’s a habit from youth that he never quite shook, and Steve will never admit this out loud, but he finds it disgustingly adorable.

“Can I help you?” Steve asks with a slight smirk when Eddie just stares at him for a long moment.

Eddie blinks, then suddenly looks a bit sheepish as he takes a breath and pulls a folded-up pamphlet out of his jacket pocket. “So, uh…this might sound weird, but one of my students went to the Pride parade downtown with her girlfriend this weekend, and I told her to bring me a souvenir. And I was joking, obviously! Only…she brought me this random pamphlet she got from some vendor while she was there, also as a joke, and I was reading it because I was bored between lessons - Jeremy canceled because he has strep, or something - and it really wasn’t all that interesting, because, like, been there, done that, right? But-”

“Eddie,” Steve says, smirk dissolving into a fond smile. “You’re rambling, babe.”

“Right, yeah. That I am,” Eddie laughs nervously. He fidgets with the pamphlet, then abruptly holds it out for Steve to take.

Steve only hesitates for a moment before taking it and giving it a brief once-over. “Am I supposed to be-”

“Page five,” Eddie interrupts. His voice is soft, and fond, and a little nervous in a way it rarely is around Steve these days. Nearly thirty years of (unofficial) marriage has left little to be nervous about.

Steve stares at his husband, then flips open the little booklet to a page sporting a black, purple, grey, and white flag, and the word demisexuality. He frowns thoughtfully and pushes his reading glasses further up his nose as he begins to read the rest of the text on the page.

“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Eddie says softly, pulling up a chair so he can sit beside Steve. “But then I remembered that talk we had back when we first started dating…”

His voice trails off, but that’s okay. Steve already knows exactly what conversation Eddie is thinking about, because Steve is recalling it himself.

“There’s a word for it?” Steve’s voice comes out surprisingly fragile. Hopeful.

He can hear the smile in Eddie’s reply. “Yeah, sweetheart. Seems that way.”

“And there are…” Steve swallows down the tidal wave of emotion threatening to crash over him. “There are more people like me? It’s, like…a thing?”

“Sure is, baby,” Eddie says fondly, pressing a lingering kiss to Steve’s temple. “Got your own flag and everything!”

Steve chokes out a laugh just as the first tear falls down his cheek, and fuck, he can’t stop smiling. Because Eddie is right. There’s a word, and a community, and a goddamn flag. And yeah, maybe it’s been years since Steve last worried about the weirdbadwrong feeling he used to get so frequently when he was younger, but something inside of him feels like it’s settled into place. Like the final piece of a puzzle, pulled from beneath the couch years after the rest was completed: dusty and faded, almost forgotten, but a perfect fit nonetheless.

“Demisexual…” he murmurs reverently, tracing over the shape of the flag with his fingers. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks eagerly.

Through happy tears, Steve looks at the man who is his husband in everything but the eyes of the law. Eddie’s eyes are kind and excited - just like they always are - and God, Steve loves him. He’s loved him for decades, and he’s never going to stop.

“Yep,” Steve breathes, wrapping a hand around the back of Eddie’s head to pull him in for a slow kiss. “Love it,” he says. Another kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” Eddie whispers in return.

The next year, Eddie’s students don’t need to bring him souvenirs from Pride, because he and Steve go together. They hold hands as they cheer on the parade, newly-acquired wedding rings (now that it’s been legalized in all fifty states) glinting in the sunlight, and Steve wonders if he’s ever been this happy before. He’s got his husband on one side, Robin and her wife on the other, and a flag of black, purple, grey, and white painted on one cheek.

The feeling is electric.

It’s perfect.

And Steve has never, ever been more certain that there’s nothing icky or wrong about it.

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