#ARGYLE ARGYLE WE NEED TO GET THE WEED

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen. 

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold). 

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

[afewproblems]

The Holiday Party had gone quite smoothly, more than he was expecting if Steve was being honest with himself.

Until about halfway through, but that was pretty par for the course.

Jonathan had unearthed an old Rummoli Board from a box labeled 'Basement Misc', the Byers were still in the middle of unpacking from their move back to Hawkins, and brought it alongside a bottle of wine that Nancy had managed to smuggle from the Wheelers liquor cabinet.

Robin, who rode with Eddie and Argyle, brought pizza, the only copy of It's A Wonderful Life from Family Video, and way too much weed for just the six of them.

"It isn't a party without a little Kush Stevie," Eddie had told him, clapping his warm hand on Steve's shoulder, his thumb just high enough to rest on bare skin above the collar of his sweater.

All Steve could do was roll his eyes and take the pizzas, quickly ducking into the kitchen before Robin or, God Forbid, Eddie could comment on the pink flush that had taken over his face at the new nickname.

Robin had been insisting that Steve just tell Eddie how he felt for the last few weeks. Rip the bandaid off and come clean. What was the worst that could happen?

Which, really Robin?

Steve knows exactly what happens when someone puts themselves out there only for the other person to not feel the same way. His whole argument was currently sitting in his living room for fucks sake.

Sure, Steve and Nancy were on better terms now, but it also took two years to get there, and even still, there was a weird tension when they found themselves alone together.

So, no, telling Eddie was not an option, Robin.

Steve could keep it together. He could deal with the ache in his chest at the sight of Eddie's smile. Steve could deal with the way his heart beat quickened whenever Eddie said his name. He could deal with the heady flush that bloomed every time Eddie touched him.

He was fine, it was fine.

And, movie nights like these were nothing new in the wake of Vecnas defeat and the destruction of the Upside Down. Steve needed to keep it together if he wanted to continue to have this. Nights without the kids to look after or the adults to hide their indulgences from, these were the nights where they could truly relax.

These were Steve's favourite, and he was not going to let some Bullshit feelings stand in the way of being able to see Eddie.

This Christmas Eve found the six of them lounging on pillows and extra couch cushions from the basement to make the 'best movie watching set-up thank you very much', according to Robin, and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.

"I can't believe that George Bailey would wish for something like that, when it's so obvious that people care about him," Robin scoffs at the top of her voice about halfway through the movie, prompting a irritated Shush from Nancy.

"That bro is depressed man, it's like a cry for help, and on Christmas, this shit is heavy dude," Argyle hums, lifting his fist up to Robin who shakes it with a wild grin. The two erupt into violent giggles which begin to creep into Steve and Eddie and eventually Jonathan as well. Nancy rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that takes over her face as well.

"Who would wish to never be born when you could just wish for the bank to like, not fuck you over, seems like a waste of a wish if you ask me," Eddie says as the last traces of giggles begin to finally disapate.

"Ooo, Eddie's right!" Robin says as she reaches for the remote, hitting pause on the movie. She waves her hands through the chorus of groans from everyone except Eddie who turns around to Steve with an incredulous expression on his face.

Steve shrugs as Robin continues, unable to look away from those large brown eyes until a hand darts out to smack him in the chest.

"Steve, pay attention," Robin huffs, "let's go around and share what we would wish for!"

Oh shit.

Steve turns on the couch to fully face Robin with narrowed eyes. She grins at him, lifting a single eyebrow as her blue eyes dart between Eddie and Steve.

Steve opens his mouth to argue, to insist that they just carry on with the movie, only for Eddie to drum his hands against his knees and speak.

"Oh birdie, I'm way ahead of you, this is Wayne's favorite Christmas movie so I've done a lot of thinking 'bout this".

Eddie clears his throat and lifts his hands from his knees now as though he's about to launch into a story for Hellfire, "I would personally wish for the money to be able to fund Corroded Coffin full time, get a demo done, and then be able to kiss this fucking one horse town good bye!"

Steve feels the words hit him like a bucket of cold water.

Eddie wants to leave Hawkins.

His wish, his dream, for forever from the sounds of it, is to leave them all behind.

To leave Steve behind.

The voices from the group, pitched high and low, all blend together into one as the rest of the group share their own wishes.

Steve absently feels a small hand grip his own, he looks up to see Robin staring at him, a worried frown pinched between her eyebrows. He answers her silent question with a shake of his head.

It was fine, he was fine. This was a good thing, better to know now than later when Eddie would inevitably leave him behind.

"Stevie?"

Steve startles as a ringed hand waves precariously close to his face. Eddie smiles faintly at him, one dimple on display as he speaks again.

"Kinda lost you for a second there, what about your wish?"

"Oh," he manages to say with a slight laugh in his voice, even as his brain fills with static, "um, I haven't ever really thought about it, maybe some new music or something".

Nancy and Jonathan both boo loudly from the love seat while Argyle nods with a hazy smile.

"Right on my man, sounds like Eddie'll be able to help when his band makes it big," he says before turning back to the television and slumping even more heavily into the couch.

Steve forces out another bright laugh, ignoring how much it burns his throat and crushes his chest. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the firm hold of Robin's hand on his own.

He doesn't look at Eddie as he leans forward to press play on the movie once more, letting the music and dialogue fill the room once more.

Later, as the end of the credits roll and the tape switches back to static, Nance and Jonathan are fast asleep. The pair are cuddled up on the love seat, their heads leaning against one another. It would almost be cute if not for the pang of envy that fills Steve at the sight.

Steve tries to bask in the warmth of having Robin cuddled into his side, knowing it will alleviate at least some of the ache in his chest. Robins eyes have been steadily growing heavier as she slowly falls further and further into Steves side. He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.

At least he has Robin, and maybe for now that is enough.

***

This is a part one, let me know if anyone would like a part Two?

[anarcoqueer1994]

Never Have I Ever (Steddie Ficlet)

The older teens—Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Eddie,-- had been hanging out drinking at Steve’s house. No one can remember whose idea it was, but they ended up playing “Never Have I Ever” with who ever being the one who has done it having to take a drink. It was fun, mostly dumb ones, like “Never have I ever been out of Indiana (excluding the Upside-Down) or “Never have I ever smoked weed.” It was one of Robin’s though, that nearly gave Eddie a heart attack.

She looked around the table, smirking, half tipsy. “Never have I ever slept with a guy.” She laughed. Eddie thought nothing of it. He figured she used this one to get as many people at the table to drink as possible. Eddie wasn’t surprised when Jonathan, Argyle (they are dating now, he thinks), and Nancy take a drink with him. What nearly causes him to choke on his own beer is seeing Steve also pick up his glass and take a sip.

His shock causes him to cough up his drink, and though his reaction may have been the most dramatic, but other than Robin, everyone else looked confused too. Steve was oblivious to the looks around the table though, only drunkenly turning to Robin saying “That’s not fair, dude. You knew you would be the only one not to drink.” He playfully complains. 

Eddie clears his throat, being the one to ask the question everyone was wondering. “Harrington, you slept with a guy?”

Steve looks around, first confused with the reaction, slowly realizing that everyone was looking at him. They weren’t judgmental, of course, just surprised. He looks awkwardly at Robin who just shrugs her shoulders, before he says. “Oops I guess I forgot to tell you guys. Kind of figured you all knew since we are all…you know…queer. “

Robin laughs at the absurdness of his statement. “Aww Steve, they thought you were our token straight.” She sticks out her tongue.

Eddie doesn’t know why but he kind of feels…jealous. When he thought Steve was straight, it was easy for him to just accept that Steve in unattainable, that he doesn’t like guys. But knowing he does…changes things. Steve was into dudes, and he is a dude. But now he feels like Steve is unattainable in a new way…he is out of his league. Steve can’t want Eddie, no matter how big of a stupid crush he has on him. That hurt more. He can’t explain why he said what he said next, maybe he is a masochist. But his mouth works faster than his brain. “Who?”

“What?” Steve scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. Eddie hates that this makes him more attractive.

He wishes he could pull the word back in, he wishes it would have stayed trapped against his teeth, but it didn’t so he has to go with it. “Um…I mean who was the lucky guy that slept with King Steve?” He tries play it off as a joke, like he’s teasing but honestly part of him wants to know what Steve’s type is.

“Oh, um a few guys, I guess. The first one was Tommy. Before Nance and I dated, I used to hook up with Tommy and Carol sometimes. Most of the time it was the three of us, but I have been with both of them separately.” Steve goes red, realizing all the attention is on him now.

“You were like a …throuple with Tommy and Carol?” Nancy asks in disbelief.

“No, nothing like that!  What we did was just for fun. Those two were their own thing. “ He put his increasingly flushed face in his hands before continuing. “Let’s…uh move on from this embarrassing can of worms Robin has opened.

Everyone nods, but Eddie’s big mouth strikes again. “You said there was a few…”

“Eds, you really wanna know all the guys I slept with?” Steve raises his eyebrow, embarrassment going to amusement. He shoots Eddie a smirk before adding. “Why? You wanna be on that list?” He winks.

Shit. Eddie was too pushy. He doesn’t need to know. His face turns red. “Uh no. I’m sorry, I’m just being nosy. I’m sorry.” He repeats without his usual confidence. He continues to ramble apologies.

“Eddie…” Steve interrupts. “I’m just messing with you, man. It’s fine. I don’t have secrets with you guys. There were a few random hooks ups from the gay bar Robin, and I go to in Indianapolis, and um my senior year, I hooked up with one of the guys one the swim team. See no big secrets.” He laughs.

The tension Eddie was feeling dissipates with the sound of Steve’s laugh. Steve doesn’t care…Eddie is reading too much into this. “No big secrets.” He parrots back. And with that, they were back to the game, no one bringing up Steve’s “come out,” No mention of Eddie’s weird reaction, nothing that should make him nervous. But part of him swears he notices Steve staring him down more as the night goes on.

They end up all watching a movie, everyone passing out in the living room, half tipsy, and just feeling safe. Robin and Nancy are cuddled together on the couch while Jonathan and Argyle are tangled together on the love seat. Eddie had been on the chair and Steve was on the third cushion of the couch. They had been the only two still awake, neither very comfortable where they are. When the movie comes to an end, Steve whispers, “Eds…come on man. Let’s go upstairs.”

“up..stairs?” Eddie stutters out like some pathetic 13-year-old kid with a first crush. But he couldn’t help it. Was Steve asking his to go to bed with him? Maybe he wasn’t crazy. Maybe Steve was flirting with him earlier. Maybe he was staring.  

Eddie watches as Steve stands up, walks closer and holds out his hand, Eddie instinctively responds, taking the other man’s hand, letting him pull him up. “Yea, upstairs. That chair is not comfortable.”

“No, its not.” Eddie agrees as they head for the steps, still hand in hand. When they get to the top of the stairs though, Steve lets go. He starts leading Eddie to the opposite end of the hallway from his bedroom. When they stop in front of the door at the end, Eddie understands. He feels his heart drop as Steve opens the door to the guest room. “Finally have an excuse to use this thing.” He softly laughs, before turning away, saying over his shoulder “Night, Eds. Let me know if you need anything.”

All Eddie can do is nod lamely, as he steps into his room for the night. He closes the door before collapsing on the bed. His brain is on an emotional roller coaster. He feels stupid thinking that Steve Harrington, queer or not, would be into him. Before he can spiral into self-deprivation, he is pulled back to reality by a knock on the door.

When he opens it, there is Steve Harrington, now clad only in the tiny red shorts he sleeps in. It takes every thing in him to keep his brain from short circuiting. “Steve? What’s up?” He hopes he sounds casual.

“Eddie, why did you react that way earlier when you found out I like guys?” Steve cuts to the chase.

“I..I told you man, just surprised.” He tells a half lie.

“I know, I know. You said that but why did you want to know who?” Steve continues, gears obvious turning in his, trying make the connections he thinks he sees.

“I don’t know.” Eddie looks down at his own feet. Looking at Steve feels dangerous right now, Like Steve could see right through him.”

“Eds? You don’t know?” Steve asks skeptically.

“Yea I don’t know. I just asked. Making conversation, man” Eddie deflects, still looking down.

“I don’t believe you.” Steve says back plainly. Eddie was about to protest, insist Steve was wrong. But before he can, he feels a gentle hand under his chin, pushing his head upwards, so Steve can meet his eyes. He’s frozen as Steve smirks whispering, “I think you wanted to be on that list too.”

Eddie can feel his cheeks going red. Without thinking he replies, “I want to be the end of that list.” As soon as the words leave him mouth, he wishes he could pull them back in. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I don’t expect you to just settle with me or anything. I’m sure you have better.’

“No Eddie. I wouldn’t be settling.” He lets out a sign. “ I should have phrased this better. Eddie, I want you. And not just for sex. Like don’t get me wrong, that’s part of it. You’re so fucking hot. But you are so funny and smart and dorky and such a good friend. I’ve been into you for so long. So um, what do you think?” All confidence and charismatic attitude is gone.

“You like me?” Eddie sputters out.

“Oh my god! Yes, Eds. I do. I like you. Honestly, I think I love you and I don’t know how else to spell it out to you. I just don’t get it, Eds? What more…” Steve is cut off by the soft lips pressed again his. It takes him a moment to realize Eddie is kissing him but when he does, he finds himself kissing back. His hands tangle in Eddie’s hair while Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist.

When they finally pull apart, Eddie asks “So you wanna add me to that list?

“Yea, I do. Eventually. But for tonight I just want to cuddle with me…boyfriend?” He asks, worried he jumped the gun.

“Yea…I want to cuddle with my boyfriend, too.” He smiles, pulling Steve into the guestroom, closing the door behind them.

[unfinishedslurs]

fwb to lovers (steddie)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says. “I can do casual sex. I’m great at casual sex. Friends with benefits will be a breeze.”

“You’re full of shit,” Robin says flatly. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t do friends with benefits, Steve,” Eddie cringes from his hiding spot behind a shelf, like a criminal who’s been doing friends with benefits with Steve. “You fall in love with every age-appropriate friend you have. Add chemistry and compatibility to that mix, and you’re toast. Might as well slather you in butter and jam, that’s how toasted you are.”

“I don’t fall in love with all my friends,” Steve protests weakly.

Robin holds up a finger. “Nancy,” she starts.

“That doesn’t count! We weren’t friends until after we dated.”

She ignores him, putting up another finger. “Jonathan.”

Eddie frowns at that, mentally going back and pulling up every memory he has of Jonathan and Steve interacting. The jokes that Steve threw his head back to laugh at, the flush on his cheeks. It makes sense, and Eddie doesn’t like it. 

Then he realizes how ridiculous that is. He’s the one sleeping with Steve, a feat he’s fairly sure Jonathan hasn’t accomplished. Jonathan doesn’t know the sounds Steve makes when he comes, or how amazing Steve looks on his knees. Eddie smugly puts his jealousy to the side in favor of listening in. 

Steve has turned a bright red. “You can’t—”

“Me.”

He gives up trying to stop her, putting his head on the counter in shame.

“Plus Eddie,” she finishes, raising a fourth finger and waving it at him. Eddie nearly falls over with surprise. Sure, the whole conversation had been gearing up to it, but he wasn’t expecting an actual confirmation. Steve doesn’t even argue. “Four for four, Steve. Not including Tommy, Carol, the Tommy and Carol incident, or the time you made out with Argyle, which actually makes seven. Do I need to keep going?”

Woah, woah, woah, what? Here he is being jealous of Jonathan when fucking Argyle is the one he needs to watch out for. Eddie briefly wonders if he can get away with putting hair remover in his shampoo or some shit. Weed out the competition. 

No, that’s too far. 

He also wants to hear more about this Tommy and Carol incident. 

Robin is still waiting for a reply, eyebrow raised. 

“No,” Steve mutters into the counter.

“That’s what I thought.” She hops up on the counter, lightly tugging his hair to get him to look at her. “I just listed all your friends who aren’t toddlers, so which of them is it? Fair warning, if it’s Jonathan I’ll just kill you to put you out of your misery.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Jonathan?” Steve asks, afronted. Maybe Eddie should be jealous.

“Nothing! Except the part where he’s your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend. Even if they are in the middle of the world’s most awkward slow-burn breakup, that’s not the Dingus I know.”

“Are they really?” Steve asks, apparently oblivious to something even Eddie could see from outer space. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not Jonathan. It’s…it’s Eddie.”

“Eddie,” she echoes, entirely unsurprised. “Steve, you know I hate to be the voice of reason, but that is a remarkably bad idea. Like, Jesus, that’s rough.”

Ouch. He thought Robin liked him. 

Steve smirks. “So is he.”

“Ew.” Robin throws a VHS case at him. 

“Ow! Hey!”

“Dingus! Why is your brain so nasty all the time?”

“Oh, like yours is so pure. I can see your rent history, Buckley. How many times have you watched Fast Times this week?”

They’re off, bickering like the world's worst comedy duo, and Eddie has to stifle his laughter into his hand. Jesus, but they could go on television with this shit. Buckley is a master at coming up with insults. 

Finally, they wind down, and Robin leans against Steve. “You know this is gonna break your heart, right?” She asks quietly, sadly. Eddie busies himself with studying the back of whatever movie is in front of him, pretending he’s not straining to catch every second of this conversation. 

“I know,” Steve answers. Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “Worth it, though.”

“Is it?”

His laugh is hollow. “I guess we’ll see.”

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to break Steve’s heart. He wants to hold it in his hands, feel along the steadily-beating shape of it, learn all the things that make it tick. Wrap it in bubble wrap, store it away in his own chest so that no one else can get to it. Keep it safe. 

There’s just one problem with that. 

Eddie’s never been on a date in his life. 

Everyone knows Steve is a romantic. He’s the kind of guy who’ll buy flowers for a date, chocolates for Valentine’s Day, take you to the movie theater and make out in the back. All the classics. Eddie’s version of romance so far has been sacrificing himself to the wet spot so Steve wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

If he’s going to date Steve, he wants to do it properly. Which, okay, they can’t really risk necking in a theater, and they’d have to be careful at a diner, and Lover’s Lake is out for obvious reasons, and—

Jesus, dating as a queer is fucking hard. He hasn’t even been on one yet, and he’s exhausted thinking about all the hoops they’ll have to jump through. Maybe they could just get takeout and a movie, like they always do.  

No. No. He just said he was going to be romantic, dammit!

What is romance, anyway? Really it’s just a false sense of meaning attributed to certain gestures instead of others. In a different universe, ding-dong ditching burning dog shit on someone’s porch is probably a declaration of intent. 

Hmm. 

No! 

Okay, romance. He can do romance. After all, he wrote the greatest love story of all time. Between Sir Severus the knight and the great bard Edith the Magnificent. 

He’s never claimed to be subtle. 

He stares down at his notebook, page empty and mocking. He’s going to need some help. 

With a huff and a dirty look at the notebook, he heaves himself out of bed. Stalks through the hallway so he can punch a number in the phone with more than a little vehemence. 

“Wheeler? Yeah, it’s Eddie. Can you put your sister on?”

“Romance,” Nancy repeats, brow furrowed. “You’ve been sleeping with Steve, and now you want to romance him.”

“Yep.”

“And you came to me and not Robin because…”

“She can’t keep a secret from Steve. C’mon, Wheeler, you know this.”

She purses her lips in a way that he knows means she agrees with him. “You know,” she says, “As someone who did date Steve, I think he would just be happy to be with you. You could be doing anything, and it would be amazing to him because you were there.”

Eddie stares at her. “That’s such a cop out.” 

Her face instantly goes from sweet to annoyed beyond comprehension. It’s his favorite expression of hers. He makes sure to bring it out often. 

Eddie puts a single rose on Steve’s nightstand. Yellow, like his favorite color. There, he thinks proudly, declaration of intent. 

Nancy is less than impressed when he tells her. 

“What’s the problem?” He asks, affronted. “It’s a fucking rose! In his favorite color! There’s no way to misinterpret that!”

“Did you even read the pages I copied for you?”

“I started to, but then I remembered that yellow roses exist. He looks really good in yellow, and it’s his favorite color, so he’d probably appreciate a yellow rose. See? Romantic.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pulling the book off her nightstand and flipping through the pages. He doesn’t get what the big deal is, he thinks his idea was pretty fucking swell, actually. He tells her so. 

The answering look she gives him could level a city. 

“It’s a nice idea,” she tells him. “The sentiment is right. It would be perfect if his favorite color was anything else.”

“What’s wrong with yellow?”

She purses her mouth and shows him the book, open to roses and their color meanings. 

“Son of a bitch!”

Friendship roses. Fucking friendship roses. Most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

[demibats]

how to survive a horror movie - the first to go. . .

we aren't gonna talk about the fact that it took me an entire year to revisit this fic and post the first chapter ok? but without further ado, WE ARE SO BACK. give the masterlist a visit for context if you'd like <3 -demi xx chapter warnings: weed mention, brief description of homic*de and violence. minors do not interact!

word count: 3.4k

July 1991.

You’re practically being boiled alive in the tin can castle known as Munson Manor. The Indiana heat isn’t the awful part, but the humidity has you and everyone else in Hawkins choking on the air. The measly little air conditioner situated in one of the living room windows is working overtime to cool off the small trailer to no avail. You and Eddie lay on the floor, staring up at his ceiling, opposite of one another. He turned his head to look over at you, but your eyes are closed, trying to think of anything but the heat. You can feel his heavy stare on you, but you keep your eyes closed, knowing that the blood would rush to both of your cheeks if you caught him staring. 

“It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack outside, can’t we go swimming or somethin’?” Eddie complains next to you, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

You take this as an appropriate cue to open your eyes and turn to him, watching him writhe in the uncomfortable temperature. It makes you chuckle a little, examining the way his ‘Slayer’ muscle tank sticks to his torso from sweat. 

“I recommended that two hours ago and you whined at that too,” you challenge, resting your hands on your stomach, folded neatly there. Eddie shifts, taking his hands away from his eyes, those chocolate buttons fixating onto your gaze.

“The people of Hawkins don’t deserve to see what I’ve got underneath the denim and leather, sweetheart, but I’m bakin’ like a pie and I’ve already undressed to my comfort level.” He sounds too much like some kind of massage therapist as he says that last part, earning another breathy giggle from you. 

Your gaze lingers too long on his cut-off jeans, muscle tank, and bunched up crew socks that he ends up snapping his fingers in front of you, “Hellooooooo? Do I need to adjust the antennas on this thing?” He teases, gesturing to the top of your head as if it’s his old television. 

Waving him off, you push yourself onto your elbows, then off the cool carpet you’d been laying atop of for the last few hours, trying to will the heat away with Eddie at your side. He scrambles to his feet as well, long limbs making him look less like an agile ballerina and more like a newborn giraffe. All leg, no coordination. 

“I’ll give Robs and Steve a call, see if either of them can get a hold of Jonathan and Nance. You can be in charge of recruiting Argyle,” as you give him his set of instructions, he pushes his bottom lip out in a faux pout, “Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, they don’t work on me anymore, Munson.”

He mumbles something along the lines of ‘they used to’ before heading toward the front door, the jingling of his keychain making you turn your head toward him, his landline nestled between your ear and shoulder, “Make sure he brings sunscreen this time and not just pizza nachos!”

“I’ll make sure he brings both!” Eddie quips before the door is closed between the two of you.

. . . 

Hawkins Community Pool is always packed during the summer. It’s the one reliable spot to cool off, unless you prefer the hose from your backyard. The poolside is lined with women in bikinis, magazine in hand and sunglasses shading their eyes from the harsh light of the midday sun. Kids splash around in the pool, being scolded by lifeguards being underpaid to make sure none of the little shitheads drown. It's the picture perfect scenery for a small midwest town summer. 

Sitting at the edge of the pool, your legs barely in the water, you sway your feet and the crystalline liquid ripples around you. Jonathan and Argyle are two knuckles deep in pizza nachos, a delicacy only the ladder’s cannabis-coated mind could craft. Underneath your dark shades, you lift your gaze over to watch Eddie in the pool with Robin on his shoulders, Nancy on Steve’s as they poorly attempt a game of ‘Chicken’, before one of the lifeguards beckons them to stop. 

After getting reprimanded by the pool police, Eddie hangs his head in pretend shame as he slides next to you at the pool’s edge , the ends of his curls wet and dripping onto his shoulders. “I bet you could’ve knocked Nance over. Robin’s too soft to head into a brutal ‘Chicken’ battle and win.” He says this because he knows it to be true, although you aren’t so sure.

“I’m surprised Robin was being so nervous about it.” You respond coyly, pretending like neither of you know about Robin’s enormous crush on Nancy. 

Disregarding the conversation about Robin and Nance, Eddie looks around the pool at the moms helping their kids towel-dry off and the meatheads and their girlfriends either arguing or borderline fucking poolside. It makes his skin crawl a bit to see such blatant public displays of affection. 

However, you think otherwise. It might be nice to have someone dote on you the way some of the boys of Hawkins do to their girlfriends. Maybe not the kind of boy like Tommy Hagan or Billy Hargrove, but someone like— 

“Hey! Come play Marco Polo with us!” Steve shouts, Robin and Nancy wading around him like sharks circling their prey. 

Eddie immediately slides back into the water, but he’s facing you, droplets sliding down his tattooed skin, glistening in the sunlight, “Come on, it’s not every day you get to see how oblivious Steve is to echolocation.” He chides, bringing a ring-adorned hand up to rest on top of your knee. His gesture sends a shiver up your spine, but you nod, more excited than you should be about the prospect of playing Marco Polo. But truthfully, you know why you're vibrating with joy.

The first two games are way too easy. Robin is Marco the first round and finds Eddie first, bumbling around the water like a scared duck. Once Eddie is Marco, he finds Steve and nearly drowns him, causing the lifeguard to give Eddie a final warning. When Steve is Marco, he can’t find a single one of you to save his life. 

“You suck at this, Steve!” Robin shouts from her spot. Nancy even tries splashing water at Steve to make him find her easier, but to no avail. Eddie has half a mind to try to drown him again. You wade around, trying to stay away from the other three stooges, especially since they’re actively trying to get Steve to catch them. It’s amusing, watching the four of them seem so carefree. 

Marco Polo ends on a high note, Steve finally finding Nancy (by accident). The five of you exit the pool to reapply sunscreen and try to pick at the crumbs of the pizza nachos, but the two megastoners have demolished more than half of them. The heat and water games have you exhausted, skin dry and pruning from the chlorine water. You slip your plastic flip flops on, your towel still wrapped around your torso. 

“Credit where credit is due, it was a genius idea to go to the pool today,” Eddie compliments, drying his frizzing curls with an old Power Rangers towel, “Wanna ditch these crazies and get a slushee?”

. . .

Eddie convinces Nancy to load the whole gaggle of twenty-somethings into her station wagon while you and Eddie leave from Hawkins Community Pool early. She agrees with a roll of her eyes before she’s back in the pool with Robin and Argyle as she tries to explain how to play mermaids to the long-haired boy. 

Your thighs stick together in the heat of his van, the chlorine-water creating a layer of discomfort against your skin. You try not to squirm in the seat, flesh itching from the pool drying out your pores. After shoving miscellaneous items into the already packed and trashed back of his van, Eddie most elegantly thrashes into the driver’s seat, his typical dopey grin seated perfectly on his pink lips. He’s fumbling for a tape to slide into his player, realizing how disorganized his music collection is, he laughs at himself, “Maybe I’ll have Robin organize these by alphabetical order or somethin’, Jesus.”

“Do that and she may try to sneak some Madonna,” You quip, thinking about Eddie’s disgruntled disagreements with Robin about her taste in music. 

Turning around, his arm reaching around the back of the passenger seat, he cranes his neck and torso to look back as he backs out of his parking spot. There’s something about this gesture, something so simple and plain, that makes your cheeks burn. He doesn’t see this, but he notices how you straighten your back up into your seat as you turn to look out the window, “You’re good on this side,” you offer.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got us covered.”

Eddie’s not the best driver, but he’s confident and has always kept you safe when you’re riding shotgun. He’s even let you pick the music that plays, despite his limited options, leaning toward 80’s thrash metal more than anything else, but it’s grown on you. 

The drive to 7/11 is about fifteen minutes, give or take. The sun is fading behind the tree line, the bright orange orb glowing beneath, creating a silhouette of twisted tree limbs. It’s as haunting as it is beautiful. Eddie drums along the steering wheel with the beat to ‘Sweet Leaf’, his hair still dripping onto his muscle tank. 

You adjust the flimsy cover over your bathing suit, trying to find a more comfortable spot in your seat. Eddie turns into the parking lot to the 7/11, pulling up right in front of the doors. You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Eddie is quicker, hopping out of his driver’s seat to run around the hood of his van, opening your door for you, “M’lady,” he purrs, offering his tattooed hand out to you. 

You take it with a gentle courtesy, “M’lord,” you respond as you jump onto the pavement, your flip flops clapping against your heels as you do so. 

“I’ve always pictured myself as the court jester. Yknow, fuckin’ around and makin’ a fool outta myself just because I can.” He opens the door to the mini mart for you as well, earning a hushed ‘thank you’ from you. 

You laugh at his comment, reflecting on his words, “Don’t you do that anyway?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment, so thank you.” Eddie’s tone is a bit sassy , assuming you meant your comment to be an insult, but it is in fact a compliment. 

The 7/11 is desolate, with the exception of one customer talking to the sole cashier who looks bored out of her mind. She’s twirling her red curls around her fingers, popping bubblegum between her lips as the middle-aged man in a baseball cap tries to flirt with her to no avail. Meandering through the maze of aisles, Eddie snags a bag of chips off the shelf before skipping up to the slushee machine, “What flavor of tooth-rotting sugar can I interest you in today?” He jests, eyes fixated on the sloshing colored ice in the machine.

Aftering pondering over the two options you have, cherry and blue raspberry, you decide to mix the two flavors, Eddie following suit. Walking through the sweet treats aisle, eyes scamming over the packaging to see if anything in particular looks good, the two of you head to the register, seeing that the man flirting with the cashier had left. Offering a smile to the ginger behind the counter, who’s name appears to be ‘Barb’ from her nametag, Eddie chats her up a bit, asking how her shift is going and commenting on the weather finally cooling down. She responds blandly, while ringing up the slushees. You reach for your wallet but Eddie’s already handing over bills from his own wallet. Always one step ahead. 

The bell above the door dings as you exit, Eddie holding it open for you as you step outside, a skip in your step, “I think her and Nancy used to be friends,” Eddie chides as the door closes, “She was in school with us.”

You nod, agreeing and acknowledging, “Yeah, I never got the full story out of Nance, but they had a falling out.”

The conversation ends there as the two of you climb back into Eddie’s van, treats finally acquired, mission accomplished. Blue raspberry and cherry slushee in hand, you take leisurely sips as Eddie drives, unsure of his decided destination. The Munson trailer had become like a second home to you, your tiny closet of an apartment being the unfortunate first. Even though having your own space is nice and preferable to any alternative, it’s stuffy and during the summer tends to smell like a gym locker room if air isn’t properly circulating. 

In the end, Eddie drives the both of you back to his trailer. Once his van comes to a shuddering halt and the metalhead removes the key from the ignition, the two of you climb out of the vehicle, goodies in hand, and head into the trailer. Wayne’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, you assumed he still must be at the shop, despite the slowly setting sun off in the distance. Unlocking the front door, Eddie gives it the typical shove the break the seal of the door against the frame. In the summer it’s indefinitely worse due to the heat and humidity. 

Kicking his damp converse off, his curls beginning to frizz up upon drying, he places the plastic bag on the small, cluttered dining room table, “Movie night?” he asks, gesturing to the tv, sitting low to the ground atop a beat-up entertainment center, a few stacks of VHS tapes piled up next to it. 

“Have I ever declined a movie night invitation?” You quip at him as you saunter backward toward the trailer’s bathroom, ready to change out of your still damp swimsuit. Backpack slung over your shoulder, turning on your heels, you can hear Eddie chuckling and making a snide comment under his breath. 

Once you’ve peeled yourself out of the fabric, you exit the bathroom adorning a clean and dry t-shirt and pair of jean shorts settling snugly around your waist. Eddie has already poured the chips from the corner store into a bowl, a smaller bowl of gummy worms sitting next to it on the couch. Eddie sits on his knees in front of the entertainment center, looking through movies that the two of you have watched numerous times before. Two tapes are set aside, as he picks through the rest, “The Evil Dead, Hellraiser… those are the two I’m feelin’. Penny for your thoughts, Dear Watson?” he looks over his shoulder behind you with a lopsided grin on his face. 

“Hellraiser, undoubtedly.” You chirp in a faux English accent back to him. 

. . . 

Before the end of the movie, both you and Eddie are passed out on the floor, the snacks only half-eaten and forgotten before your inevitable slumber. You wake with a start at the sound of the landline ringing, nearly jumping out of your skin the moment you’re awake, eyes wide open. Eddie, still sleeping peacefully, isn’t bothered by the phone ringing. You harshly nudge him awake, both hands shaking his shoulder. 

“Eddie, the phone.” You say with a yawn, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. 

Curls matted to the side of his face, he’s barely awake as he clambers off of the floor, limbs adjusting to consciousness. Sauntering too casually to the phone, he lifts it off the hook and up to his ear with a yawn, “Munson residence.” He states through the yawn. His demeanor shifts all too quickly, spine straightening at the drop of a hat, dragging the palm of his hand over his face roughly. He speaks in a calm manner, giving you pause. 

“Wayne, slow down… Yeah, I’m fine… she’s here, yes… We went swimming, left earlier than the others, grabbed some snacks… What?” He answers his uncle, who you gathered was on the other end once Eddie spoke his uncle’s name. 

Eddie shoots you a worried look over his shoulder. You hadn’t seen Eddie this pale since the summer he was set to graduate, worried half to death that he wouldn’t be walking across the stage with the rest of the class of 1986. But this worry… was more akin to fear than anything else. Climbing up off the floor, you tiptoe over to him and stand beside him, still unable to hear Wayne on the other side of the call. 

“When did this happen?” Eddie asked, his tone borderline frantic. There’s another pause.

At first, you think there’s been an accident at the auto shop Wayne (and Eddie) works at, that he or someone has been injured and he has to wait for the ambulance or police to arrive. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you wait for the brunette man to speak again. 

“Jesus Christ… No, she’s standing right next to me… Yes sir… I’ll see you when you get home… Okay… Yeah, I know, I know… Alright,” he mutters the last part under his breath as he hangs his head, as well as the phone back on the hook. 

“Shit…” he blows out a breath of air, cheeks puffed up as he exhales.

“What, what’s going on?” you ask meekly, anxiety spiked through the roof already. 

Eddie lifts his head up, expression damn near impossible to read, but that fear is still there, even more prominent than before.Extending a tattooed arm out, he brings you in for a tight embrace. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his torso, holding his figure just as tight against you. As you separate, Eddie’s sluggish as he walks over to the couch, plopping down. 

“I uh, I think you should sit down for this.” He pats the spot next to him, chewing the skin on his bottom lip. 

Even as you sit down next to him, you can't shake the uneasy feeling that’s raging in your chest. He won’t meet your gaze, even with you staring daggers at him, trying to will the words out of him with just your eyes, though he doesn’t budge just yet. The metalhead leans forward, elbows balancing on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. “Wayne just called me from the shop… Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins were murdered.”

The anxiety dropped into the pit of your stomach like a large stone dropping into a calm pond. Bile burns at the base of your throat, but you quickly swallow the thick, intangible lump stuck there. A hand over your stomach, you take a deep breath, then another, trying to remain calm. Neither you or Eddie were particularly fond or even close to Tommy Hagan. He was a bit of an uncouth airhead during the years in high school together, and Carol was about as much of a girl’s girl as Tommy Hagan himself, always following him around like a lost puppy, but that didn’t mean that anyone wished any harm to either of them. 

After an unnerving silence between the two of you, Eddie hesitantly reaches over to take your hand into his. He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, noticing the subtle way your hand shakes. “He didn’t… say much. Carol’s mom found Tommy in the backyard, face down in the pool… Carol was… Listen, Wayne’s gonna be home soon, okay? Him and I can take you home-” Before he’s able to finish his line of thinking, you’re cutting him off.

“Can I stay with you?” you mumble, lifting your chin up to meet Eddie’s sorrowful gaze. He softens immediately, nodding. 

“You don’t even have to ask, m’lady. This castle is just as much yours as it is mine.” Hand over his heart, he gives a small bow, trying to incorporate his signature humor to such a grim time. 

Even with Eddie keeping you company through the night, both of you back to back in his bed. His pillow smells like his laundry detergent and stale weed and the dip next to you in the mattress gives you a sense of peace. Shifting in the bed for what seems like the fifteenth time in the past hour, you can’t get comfortable. Between the news of the double murder of your former classmates and the unruly heat, there is no finding comfort. 

A tattooed arm snakes around your waist, the warm fan of breath over your shoulder, “Quit fidgeting,” Eddie’s sleep-riddled, raspy voice says next to you. Part of you wonders if he realizes what he's doing, or if he’s not awake enough to, but you don’t argue. Though, you find your eyes drifting shut as you keen against Eddie’s touch, sleep slowly pulling you under, even with the macabre thoughts of the evening still plaguing your subconscious. 

tag list: @yaspillz feedback is always appreciated, and let me know if you're interested in being apart of the taglist <3

[sp0o0kylights]

Being from PNW as I am, I really want to do a Polybius AU with Steddie (I just don’t want to write it lmao) 

We begin with Eddie being absolutely attached to this growing urban legend. An arcade cabinet shrouded in mysterious gameplay, awash with rumors of kids disappearing or even dying, and men in black “collecting” something from the cabinet every week? 

Throw in his own little weird encounter with an arcade game as a kid, one Eddie cannot for the life of him find again and yeah, he’s salivating over this shit. 

Hellfire’s tired of hearing about it. This has been Eddie’s white whale since they met him, they’re done listening to him chase down rumors and insist the game was checking for psychic powers in the population. (Or testing a “mind weapon” or six other things.) 

 He gets met with nothing but groans and complaints when he catches wind that something like Polybius popped up on the west coast, igniting the rumors all over again, but this is a new tale for Hellfire’s freshmen.

They sit, enraptured  and asking six million questions, by something everyone but Mike thinks is just some silly bullshit story--but it’s so out there that Lucas and Dustin placate him. 

(“Why on earth would Brenner use an arcade cabinet when he was just kidnapping kids at birth Mike, you just want an excuse to see El…”)

Obviously Polybius IRL takes place in Oregon, but let’s say things have grown a bit. Extended, like the growth of a disgusting, pulsing vine, into California. 

Will is walking home when his hand flies to the back of his neck, a buzzing overtaking his ears as this weird, black arcade cabinet from a nearby shop seems to slide into his focus.

Slowly, like a camera lens being focused, it pulls him in until El yanks him out of it and he realizes he hasn't been breathing.

 Later he tells Mike--because he has to tell someone that isn't Jonathan and isn't El and absolutely isn't his mom-- and Mike absolutely loses his shit. 

This, of course, accumulates into a blowup at lunch, in front of the rest of Hellfire. 

Who are rolling their eyes because oh God, not only has Eddie infected the freshman with this, they’re now doing that thing they do where they get all secretive and try to talk in code words. 

(As if all of Hellfire isn’t aware they think “Mike’s girlfriend” who is about as real to them as Suzie is, has superpowers. 

The party is good at a lot of things, but whispering isn’t one of them.)  

There's an argument about whether this means Brenner, or someone like him, is collecting kids again and if so, do they have a responsibility to stop it, and that this isn't the Upside Down this is human horror, but what if it is actually the Upside Down, they don’t know--and it goes round and round between the Party in Hawkins and El & Will up in California, via phone calls. 

The Hawkins crew decides they need to go to California, together. 

They just…have to figure out a way to get there, first. 

Will & El on the other hand, decide they can’t wait, because they can save kids.

They can make a difference--prevent this shit from happening in a new location all over again.

El doesn't want to be like Kali anymore, but she understands what Kali was trying to do and she feels that same sort of responsibility to stop what she can. 

They disappear. 

Jonathan calls everyone he can, frantic, because he thinks Will and El have decided to go back to Hawkins, and his mother just left with Murray to do something she was extremely vague about and Argyle does not have enough weed for this.

If you guessed this accumulates with a Eddie + the Extended Party (Nance/Steve/Robin) going on a road trip you’d be right. 

Also they collect Suzie on the way because no one ever uses her in stories and fuck it she’d be fun to bring in. 

With them being in California you have Max’s past coming into play, as well as Eddie’s own mystery with the arcade cabinet, everyone crashing together at the Byers house (one bed or no bed either is hilarious for Steddie) and as we left the rest of Hellfire back at Hawkins to try and dodge six million questions about where like, ten people vanished off to (“Uh….camp?”) we get to have some fun there too. 

Throw in Eddie’s massive ass crush, “out of Hawkins”  Robin + Steve (who is perhaps a lot more chill with things than Eddie realized) and a need to go “undercover” at a gay bar purely for selfish reasons on my end (I want to see Steve flirt shamelessly with men and watch Eddie blue screen bc of it) and you have a lot of fun with the entire groups dynamic. 

I don’t have an ending other than Eddie at some point needs to play Polybuis and Steve drapes himself over Eddie’s back, whispering encouragement in his ear as a way to keep him from getting pulled into it the way Will was while the kids work together to kill whatever it is the government's unleashed this time (not Brenner, but instead another branch or faction who took his research and ran) but I’d love to parallel Eddie more to Will, on both the gay and supernatural fronts.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Cat Distribution System

Week #13 Prompt: Cat or Farmer's Market | Word Count: 587 | Rating: T | POV: Argyle | Characters: Argyle, Jonathan | CW: Language, Recreational Weed Use | Tags: Modern AU, Silly Fluff, Argyle Goes To Get One Kind of Brownie, Comes Home With Another

"You bought a cat? At the farmer's market?" Jonathan asks.

No, no, no. 

Is he goofy? Has Jonathan already been smoking the ol' sticky icky icky without him? That won't do. He was supposed to wait on Argyle to go get the good brownies at the farmer's market. You know, the good ones. If you can follow that drift. 

But buy a cat? Of course not. You can't buy cats at the farmer's market. Cats are just at the farmer's market sometimes, and then you just…take one home. If you want. If you're chosen. If the cat distribution system is smiling down upon you and yours.

Then, and only then, you get a cat. And it gets to not be homeless anymore. Win-win for everyone. But his buddy Jonathan looks concerned. There's no room for concern here. Only happiness at their good fortune at winning today's cat lottery.

So, yeah. Argyle wanted. He definitely wanted. A cat? Who wouldn't want a cat? What a fun brochacho to add to the house. Cats have the best energy. Having a cat will be way better than hiring someone expensive to Feng Shui the place. 

"Argyle? Are you listening to me?" Jonathan says, more snappish this time. What bee is in his bonnet? 

The cat is wiggling and squirming, and Argyle puts him down. He immediately darts away.

"Little, dude. Wait! You gotta meet Jonathan. He's your other dad. I told you about him!"

"Argyle," Jonathan says, and he looks exasperated. But he always looks like that, so Argyle isn't concerned. "I don't think I'm meant to be a cat dad. I'm allergic."

"Not anymore, dude," Argyle is happy to inform him. He knows this. His uncle's cousin on Margy's side has a friend who knows a guy from work who was able to, like, stop being allergic. To his own cat. Not to other cats. But to his own. 

Through love.

Or exposure.

Something.

Either way. It happened. And BAM! No more allergy to Mr. Snaggletooth. Or Fred. Argyle doesn't know what that cat's name is, but it's probably something real good.

"My cat allergy doesn't exist?" Jonathan asks, and immediately wipes at his eyes that do look a little watery and red.

But it's psychosomatic. Or the weed. Argyle's sure of it.

Or, maybe the cat exposure therapy takes longer than five minutes. Maybe it'll take a day. But once you've claimed your cat as your cat, then you won't be allergic. Because the cat is family now, and you can't be allergic to your family. It's against the universe or some shit. For sure. Argyle's absolutely certain.

"Say he's your cat," Argyle demands.

"Argyle."

"Declare it."

"Argyle."

Well, he doesn't have to say it out loud. He just needs to think it. And surely he's thinking it. 

"You won't be allergic tomorrow," Argyle informs Jonathan, and then hands over the sack of special brownies that he bought from behind the curtain, before he found Brownie the cat. 

He should probably formally introduce Jonathan.

"His name is Brownie," Argyle states.

"He's not brown?" Jonathan questions, but takes the tray of brownies out of the sack, inspecting them.

"No, but he was near the brownies. And we have brownies. And now we have him. It's a Brownie day. All around."

Jonathan doesn't look excited about Brownie the cat, but he does look happy about the brownies, as he takes a big bite.

Argyle smiles. That's it. One or two of those, and Jonathan will love Brownie.

He'll love everything.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[munson-blurbs]

Kinkmas Day 2 (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Argyle)

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), threesome, oral (m! and f! receiving), handjobs, fingering, protected p in v, drug use, language, use of pet names

WC: 2k

Kinkmas 2022 Masterlist

--

Christmas Eve 1987 starts like any other holiday: spending time with your friends and avoiding as much familial interaction as possible.

“God, this blows,” Eddie exhales, permeating the air with the smell of weed.

“I mean, it’s not as good as the Cali shit, but it’s not the worst strain I’ve ever had, bro,” Argyle shrugs, taking another hit before passing the joint to you.

“No, dumbass,” Eddie snorts.”I meant the whole holiday season thing, joy and cheer and blah blah blah.”

You stifle a laugh, trying not to choke on the smoke you just inhaled. “Calm down, Scrooge,” you tease. “It’s not that bad.”

“You didn’t grow up watching kids get all of the cool things you wanted while your uncle barely scrounged up enough cash to buy you new sneakers,” Eddie retorts. 

“Maybe you’ll get something good this year,” you say nonchalantly, thinking of the gift you got him: a lighter with EM and a music note engraved on the side.

“Yeah, maybe,” he mutters, reaching for the joint again. 

“Well,” you start, “I have something special for each of you.” You giggle when their eyes widen. “Not that, you pervs!”

Eddie points at Argyle. “Look, you got his hopes up; poor guy.” He laughs. “Maybe got something else up, too.”

“Shut up, dude!” Argyle chastises him, leaning over you to give him a shove. A blush creeps into his cheeks and he rips the joint from Eddie’s hands angrily.

“Whoa, chill!” You’ve never seen Argyle this defensive before. “Arg, he was just kidding. Besides,” you add slyly, “you know this horny bastard would get with either of us if we gave him the chance.”

Eddie holds his hands up in defense. “Don’t go spilling my secrets now!” The high has clearly set in for him, which means he’s got even less of a filter than usual. “Anyway, ‘s not like people can’t see you making heart-eyes at her all the time.”

This time, Argyle gets to his feet and grabs Eddie by his jacket collar. “I said, shut the fuck up, man!” he hisses. “We had a deal!”

“What deal?” you ask, prying his fingers off of Eddie. It wasn’t the first time you’d had to break up an argument between them, though usually Eddie was the one trying to get to Argyle.

Argyle sighs. “Well, since someone decided to blab everything anyway, I might as well divulge this precious information.” 

This time, Eddie’s the one scrambling. “Don’t you dare–”

“Eddie and I both wanted to ask you out but we made a truce and now neither of us can get with you!” Argyle blurts out before Eddie tackles him.

“Boys!” you yell, stopping their antics immediately. “What if…what if I said I liked both of you?” Wow, you’re really high.

“I’m sorry, what?” Eddie gawps.

You sigh, wishing you could rewind time and take back what you’d just said. “Never mind,” you mumble. “Let me take another hit.”

“No, I think we need to discuss this further.” Argyle sits back down next to you. “So you would sleep with either one of us?”

“Sure, yeah, but not if it’s gonna cause you two to beat the shit outta each other.”

Eddie frowns, furrowing his brows. “What if you didn’t have to choose?”

“Like…both at once?” You bark out a laugh incredulously.

The boys look at each other and grin. “We’re down if you are,” Argyle says with a shrug.

“Oh-okay,” you murmur. That’s all the encouragement Eddie needs; he tilts your chin and kisses you deeply, making your legs tremble. “Maybe we can go inside?” you suggest, motioning to Eddie’s trailer door. You know Wayne is at work, which means you’ll have the place to ourselves. 

The three of you sit on the couch; Eddie on your left, Argyle on your right. You feel Eddie move your hair from behind your ear and press wet kisses down your jawline. “This feel good, princess?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Your gaze lands on Argyle, seemingly frozen in place. “Arg, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, “just didn’t ever think this would happen.” He swallows thickly, fidgeting with joint between his fingers. That gives you an idea.

“Take a hit, but don’t exhale yet,” you instruct him, trying to focus while Eddie’s hands roam your body. Argyle does as he’s told, and you lean in so your lips brush his. “Now, blow the smoke into my mouth.”

He opens his mouth and you mirror him, inhaling deeply as your tongues graze one another. You feel him start to relax, letting go of whatever insecurities he held onto.

“That’s it,” you coax him, taking his large hand in your smaller one and guiding it to your tits. “Touch me wherever you want.”

He’s gentle at first, running a thumb over your clothed chest in awe, but quickly begins groping you hungrily. He toys with the hem of your shirt, suddenly shy again, and you pull it over your head with a smirk.

“Dude,” Argyle breathes out. Eddie can only see your naked back, and he pulls you around by your shoulder to get a glimpse of what Argyle’s eyes are glued to.

“Holy shit,” he groans, throwing his head back. “Can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us, keeping these perfect little tits covered up this whole time.”

“Didn’t…didn’t know that you wanted to see them,” you manage dumbly, and both of the guys just grin in response.

“Hey, um…” Argyle pipes up, and you turn your attention back to him. “I wasn’t done.” He hooks a thick finger around your belt loop and pulls you closer to him, wrapping his pillowy lips around one of your nipples. It pebbles as his tongue flicks over it. Eddie busies himself at your neck, harshly sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. You whimper at the overwhelming stimulation; you’ve gotten hickeys and been fondled before, but never at the same time.

“Fuck, princess,” Eddie coos, “if you make those pretty noises, you’re gonna have to help me out here.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him gesture to the erection pressing against his jeans. 

“Bed,” you moan out, taking their hands in yours and guiding them to Eddie’s room. Argyle snuffs out the joint in a nearby ashtray as you pull him along. “Off,” you point to their pants, tugging off your own as quickly as you can.

Eddie starts to palm himself through his boxers, but you move his hand and replace it with your own, making him hiss at your touch. “C’mere,” you whisper to Argyle, and you do the same to him. There’s something utterly powerful about having them in each of your hands, knowing you control their pleasure.

Argyle’s lips press against yours. He pushes your panties aside and slides a finger inside your wet cunt, making you cry out. “That good?” he murmurs into your mouth, and you pump his cock faster in response.

“Argyle, man,” Eddie whines, “you can’t have her mouth and her pussy. Y’gotta share.” You pout as Argyle breaks the kiss, but his lips are quickly replaced with Eddie’s.

“You know what would be fun?” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eye. “If you ate her out while she moans into my mouth.”

Argyle’s on his knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed before you can muster up a response. He looks up at Eddie and asks, “y’got a hair tie or something?” Eddie nods, tossing one from his cluttered nightstand. You watch as Argyle pulls his hair off of his face and into a messy ponytail.

“Y’look really fucking good like that,” you whimper as he parts your legs.

He smiles at you, and you can’t help but beam back. “Between your thighs, or with my hair back?”

“Both.”

You mewl when his tongue flicks over your clit; he’s methodical in the way he fucks you with it. Your hips buck up slightly as he quickens his pace, and Eddie’s voice growls in your ear. 

“Make those pretty noises f’me,” he orders. You greedily accept his kiss, keeping your hand wrapped around his stiff cock. He gets harder each time you whimper into him. “Just like that,” he muses, “but I think you could be louder, hmm?” He brings his gaze to Argyle, who is hungrily lapping at your pussy. “Arg, is that pussy schmackin’ or what?”

He knows what he’s doing; Argyle can’t hold back his laughter, sending vibrations through your body and making you scream out their names. “Eddie, don’t make him–fuck, Arg, you make me feel so fucking good–”

“Cum on his tongue, princess,” Eddie says, pinching your nipple between his strong fingers. “Show him what a good job he’s doing.”

Argyle takes the opportunity to suck on your clit, and you cum harder than ever before. Your legs are trembling when he detaches from you, wiping his mouth and grinning. “Never tasted such a perfect pussy in my fuckin’ life, dude.”

“Need…need someone inside me,” you pant, glancing between the two of them. “But you need condoms; I’m not carrying either of your idiot spawn.”

“Noted.” Eddie reaches into his dresser drawer and pulls out a gas station pack of Trojans. “Fuck!” he groans. “There’s only one left.”

“I c-can take one of you in my mouth,” you offer pleadingly. Argyle fucks his fist slowly, and you get on your hands and knees and lick the the tip of his cock teasingly. “You want that?” you ask knowingly.

“Mhm,” he hums, sweat beading along his brows. “Wanna see your beautiful face, please.”

You take his length in your mouth, tracing along the vein with your tongue. Eddie spanks you with his own sheathed cock, pushing down on your upper back and tilting your hips upwards.

“Y’ready, princess?” His erection glides along your folds. He pushes into you gently, practically splitting you open. “So wet for us; aren’t you, pretty thing?”

“Mmm,” you agree, mouth full of Argyle. Your answer reverberates around him and he thrusts into you harder, holding onto a fistful of your hair. Eddie pistons himself inside you; your ass cheeks clapping against his pelvis with each buck of his hips. You’re filled with your two favorite boys, and you couldn’t be happier–or more turned on.

“Gonna cum,” Argyle chokes out. You open your throat as he coats the inside of your mouth with his warm, sticky ropes. He gently pumps a few more times to bring himself down before you release him with a small pop, swallowing his release.

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” He brushes his thumb along your cheek and smiles. “You’re so good for me–so good for us,” he amends, looking at Eddie, who is biting his lower lip and grabbing your ass so roughly that he’ll likely leave bruises behind. 

“Almost there,” Eddie mutters. “Cum with me. Can’t let him be the only one gettin’ you off tonight.”

“A little faster, Eds,” you tell him, and he complies, bringing a ringed finger down to your sensitive bud. You feel yourself clench around his dick, your release imminent. 

A string of curses leaves your lips, and Argyle kisses you as you finish. “There ya go, baby,” he coos. It might be the first time he’s called you a nickname besides bro or dude, and you can’t say you mind at all.

Eddie’s hips stutter as he cums into the condom, smacking your ass one last time for good measure. He pulls out slowly, tossing the barrier in the trash, and the three of you crash onto the bed.

“Did–did we really just do that?” Argyle wonders aloud.

“Sure fuckin’ did,” Eddie answers, still trying to catch his breath. “Now the only question is, who was better?” He turns to you and smiles sweetly, impatiently waiting for your reply.

“Obviously, it was me,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “The two of you were putty in my hands. Literally.”

The two of them nod in agreement, too fucked out to argue any further.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you find yourself slipping into sleep between them. Argyle’s arm is wrapped around your waist, while Eddie’s nuzzled into your breasts. You press a quick kiss to each of their cheeks.

“Merry Christmas, boys.” --

[careful-wish]

I know that Eddie had to die bc plot reasons yada yada

But they could have done that in season 5. We had so many deaths deaths in 4 (tho Max did end up living). The stakes are higher in season 5 and having a beloved character die halfway through would have had such an emotional impact

But also Eddie and Argyle not being included in season 5 with the other older kids feel like a joke, especially Argyle.

Nancy is the only one of the older teens (now young adults) to have a real close friendship with someone (Barb). Could probably argue Eddie too bc of Gareth, Jeff, and that other guy in Hellfire but they're younger than him so Idk how long they've been friends or how close they actually are.

In s4, though it's through super unlikely circumstances, Eddie does develop friendships with Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Probably, he already has had some interaction with Robin and Jonathan in the past due to the fact all three were considered weirdos or freaks (Jonathan was The School Freak(tm)) but he had no interaction with Jonathan this season.

Jonathan after being apart from Nancy for a few months then meets Argyle and they become pretty close mates, weed aside. Jonathan finally has someone he can talk to and open up to, and you can tell Argyle genuinely does care for Jonathan and is a LITERAL ride-or-die for him.

Why, WHY did they take Eddie and Argyle away? Yeah, we get the monster-hunting trio back in s5 along with Robin and Vickie in the group, but why'd they take Argyle away? He is also wanted by the government and knows everything. We're just going back to Jonathan having no friends, Nancy really having to confront what happened to Barb, and only Steve having a best mate? Why does Steve get to keep his best friend and Jonathan doesn't?

Also, the group would have been a little bigger than the Party but the dynamics and just absolute chaos would have been amazing.

Steve realising he is absolutely outnumbered by nerds and that he is not the leader, that role goes to Nancy and her babygurl Jonathan.

Vickie being introduced in a group that has several very loud ppl (Steve, Argyle, Robin), joins them immediately and Jonathan goes insane bc the four chatter like kookaburras at three am.

Nancy insisting they need to be discreet and Argyle explaining that while yeah, having an all black van would be cool but bad guys have those too and they would blend in better with a pizza van bc "Who would question the pizza man, Wheeler?"

Eddie secretly having tons of respect for Jonathan and nearly falls over himself trying to make up for the fact he tried to push another guy at Jonathan's girlfriend. Also develops similar respect for Nancy and feels guilty after seeing how happy Nancy is with Jonathan, and also realising it was never his, Robin, Steve, or anyone else's decision what Nancy does or who she wants to be with, it's all her.

Vickie learning about everything but still not knowing the kids very well and fellow newcomer Argyle is like "Idk about the others but Little Byers and Wheelie-boy are good, and of course our amazing super-powered little friend"

Steve discreetly being a terrible wingman for Robin without accidentally outing her. She comes out to Nancy first, then Argyle on accident after they have a weed sesh ("You're good, Batman's sidekick, boobies are great"), and of course ends up with Vickie.

Mike being the one of the Party Vickie ends up bonding with the most, mainly so they can make fun of Steve together but also other reasons

Anyway, we were robbed of these seven chaos nerds being a group together.

And if Eddie were to die halfway through, the turmoil. Dies similar to s4, Dustin is there, but it not only affects Dustin and Hellfire, but the other six he'd started becoming close with.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Anchor

A/N: it starts off a little angsty and then gets a little silly. I hope the sex scene isn't too silly. I just think that sometimes sex with Eddie can be silly. He's a silly man.

18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Steve needs to come down from his panic attack. Eddie helps him out.

It was the fourth of July, 1986. . .exactly one year since Starcourt. Steve had been feeling twitchy all day and very on edge. He couldn't sleep last night either. Nightmares plagued him all night long. He heard the term from Hopper before. The anniversary effect. He knows the signs of PTSD. Hopper had sat them all down to explain what to look for and what to do when something like this happened. Steve should have called Eddie to cancel, but Steve had been looking forward to hanging out with one of his best friends all week. This would be the first time they would be hanging out alone, and for some reason, Steve was really looking forward to that. A knock on the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

"Is he knocking to the beat of a Metallica song?" Steve asked himself, and he smiled softly. "It's definitely Eddie."

Steve opened the door and grinned at the sight of Eddie. He wore tight black cut-off shorts, a stripped crop top with cut-off sleeves, and his hair was braided down his back. There were sparkly butterfly barrettes pinning his bangs back.

"Uh, hey, Eddie," Steve said, staring at him in confusion.

"El was hanging out at Max's trailer, I didn't want to say no to the kid," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning.

"You spoil her," Steve said grinning fondly at him.

"She deserves it," Eddie said.

"Yeah, she does," Steve said. "By the way, did you knock to the tune of a Metallica song?"

"If you know it through a door, then something tells me that you've been listening to it without me. Stevie. . .are you a secret fan?" Eddie asked, smirking.

"Shut up," Steve said blushing.

He didn't want to tell him that he was listening to the music when he wasn't around because, well, he didn't know why he did it. He recognized the top Eddie was wearing. It was his old black polo that he had given Eddie. It looked better on him than it ever did on Steve. He grinned when he realized that Eddie had ripped off the buttons, leaving a slit open in the middle of his chest. He was showing off his tattoos and not just his tattoos but his scars as well. Eddie had never been afraid to show them off.

"You going to let me in, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, right," he said stepping aside.

Just as Eddie was walking by him, a set of fireworks went off in the distance. Steve jumped and grabbed Eddie's bicep, gripping it tightly.

"Stevie?" Eddie asked softly.

Eddie placed a gentle hand over the top of Steve’s hand. The sight of Eddie's nails painted a red glittery color caused him to break from his reverie, and he laughed.

"The food is getting cold," Steve said as he closed the door behind Eddie.

"Don't worry. The fireworks fuck me up too," Eddie replied as he followed him into the kitchen. "Stevie! You ordered my favorite. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

"Please, if I were trying to seduce you, I would do better than pineapple pizza," Steve replied.

"You dare insult the food of gods?!" Eddie exclaimed and Steve laughed.

"You and Argyle should start a long-haired, weed smoking, pineapple pizza loving club," Steve laughed.

"Oh, we already have," Eddie said cheerfully. "By the way, that dude can smoke me under the table."

Steve tried to focus on what was happening inside of the house. They were watching a movie, their empty plates lying on the coffee table. Eddie was sitting so close to him that his shoulder was brushing against his. He tried to focus on Eddie, but there were fireworks going off outside, and suddenly, the guy on the TV started speaking Russian. Steve tried to breathe but found that he couldn't. His chest hurt, and his entire body was trembling. He let out a gasp as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Who do you work for?!"

"I told you! Scoops Ahoy!" Steve screamed. "I swear!"

Steve screamed when they hit him again. He wanted it to stop. He was begging it to stop.

"I don't believe you! How did you find us?!"

He was crazy. This man was crazy. After he hit him, the man ran a hand through his hair, and it was sickening how gentle he was because Steve knew it wasn't real. It was just another tactic. Steve hated the way he leaned in at first, and then he yanked himself away. He hated that he was crying.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," the man said softly. "Just tell us who you work for, and this will all stop. It's okay."

"Steve?!" Eddie's panicked voice broke him out of his memory.

Steve was gasping for breath, and he was crying. Why was he crying?

"I - can't -," Steve trembled.

"Stevie, can I touch you?" Eddie asked.

Eddie placed his hands on his shoulders. Steve flinched but relaxed when he realized it was Eddie who was touching him. He trusted Eddie. The fireworks were still going off, and Steve still couldn't breathe.

"I was telling the truth, Eddie," Steve sobbed. "They still wouldn't stop. T-they wouldn't stop."

"You need to breathe for me, Stevie," Eddie said. "Focus. Breathe in and out, okay? Can you focus on my voice?"

"I'm trying!" Steve snapped.

"I've been reading about this. Okay. Um, you need to focus on the moment. You're safe, okay? Nothing is going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Stevie, do you trust me?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Steve gasped.

"I need to anchor you. I need you to come back down, and this is the only way I can think to do it. Can I?" Eddie asked and Steve nodded.

Eddie cupped his face and pressed his lips to Steve’s softly. He could feel Steve relax, and his breathing became steady. Steve started moving his lips against Eddie's, softly at first, and then it became hungry. Eddie could taste the salt of his tears on his lips and the desperation on his tongue. Steve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I think I'm properly anchored now," Steve said, and another firework went off. "Ugh, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"You're telling me that you need help, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

The two young men stumbled upstairs, and once again, Eddie was pushing Steve against a wall. This time, it was the wall of his bedroom, and he was pressed up against him completely, grinding against Steve’s thigh as they kissed. Steve broke the kiss to take off his shirt and smirked at the hungry look in Eddie's eyes. Eddie grinned and went to take off his own shirt. . .and got stuck.

"Steve! Something went wrong! I got stuck! Steve! Stop laughing, asshole! How am I supposed to see your tits?!" Eddie panicked.

Steve continued to laugh as he helped Eddie out of his shirt. He took off the butterfly clips and set them on his dresser. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him deeply.

"That was very sexy," Steve giggled.

"Fuck off," Eddie said.

Eddie grabbed him by the back of his thighs and picked him up into his arms.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm stronger than I look, big boy," Eddie winked as he threw him onto the bed. "Now watch as the Magnificent Munson makes his lovely assistants' pants disappear!"

Eddie unbuckled Steve’s pants before yanking them down and completely off, tossing them behind him.

"Voila!"

"You're crazy!" Steve giggled.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea," Eddie laughed maniacally.

He placed his knees on either side of Steve’s hips and leaned down to kiss him. He moved his lips down to his neck, his chest, and then down to his stomach. Eddie grinned mischievously.

"Whatever is that you're going to do, don't do it," Steve warned.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s stomach and blew a raspberry near his bellybutton. Steve burst into laughter. Eddie sat up a little.

"I'm sorry, is this not how you blow someone?" Eddie asked innocently.

"No, Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked and blew another raspberry on his stomach.

"Eddie!"

"I'm sorry, I think you're going to have to come up with a safe word," Eddie said and blew yet another raspberry.

"Anchor!" Steve laughed.

"That's a good safeword, baby," Eddie said, pressing a kiss to his stomach.

He started kissing the rest of the way down until he came to Steve’s boxers. He grinned and took the elastic part in between his teeth. Using his mouth, Eddie lifted up Steve’s hips and dragged his boxers down until they were off completely. Still in his mouth, he shook his head and then spat them on the floor. Steve shook with laughter.

"Are you putting on a show, or you going to fuck me?" Steve grinned.

"Can't I do both?" Eddie asked.

It finally happened, Eddie was now deep inside of Steve.

"Are you going to move?" Steve asked.

"Gentleman, make sure you keep your arms and legs wrapped around your metalhead at all times!" Eddie said as if he was a train conductor. "Most importantly, enjoy the ride. All aboard the Munson express!"

Eddie slowly started to thrust into Steve and grunted as he moved. Steve moaned, gripping Eddie's back tightly. It wasn't long before Eddie started to make train noises as he thrusted inside of him. Steve rolled his eyes back as he laughed, his body shaking around Eddie's dick.

"Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"You feeling a little unsafe, Stevie? Do you need to use the safeword?" Eddie asked.

Somehow, Steve arrived on time. Eddie had followed soon after, spilling into the condom. Steve was still laughing when Eddie left and came back to clean him up.

"I don't know how I managed to laugh and cum at the same time. That is the silliest sex that I ever had," Steve grinned. "I don't want to have sex with anyone else ever again."

"That was my plan all along, baby," Eddie said, snuggling into Steve’s side.

Steve finally managed to get some sleep that night with a smile on his face and the man of his dreams in his arms even with the fireworks going off outside. All was well.

[steddieunderdogfics]

hi! for challenge monday (6 chapters) i’d like to rec “the final countdown (we’re leaving together)” by rare-pears (Thewriterinmalfoy)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39932121/chapters/99992511

the final countdown (we're leaving together) by rare-pears

Rating: Teen and Up

11,767 words, 6/6 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: steddie, 5+1 Things, Kissing, thinking about kissing, steve really wants to kiss eddie, mentions of wounds, like the ones from the upside down, The Upside Down, Jealousy, thinking about feelings, Feeling feelings, steve has lost a LOT of blood, eddie has a sword, and steve get to use it, im not sorry about it, eddie's guitar, References to Top Gun, No beta we die like Barb, it does have some gore, a bit of angst, and ptsd, Vecna - Freeform, mentions of jason, The little shit, more of the sword, lucas gets a slingbow, it's pretty dope, the Final Battle, we all need an erica in our lives, she's a literal badass, Weed, Recreational Drug Use, The Gang Gets High, bc lets be honest they need some self-care, steve is canonically always flustered, Shotgunning, i love argyle, he's hilarious, Fishing Trips, dustin and robin do things behind steve's back, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, bisexual awakening?, or more like coming to terms with feelings, dustin henderson and his two dads, we get to the kissing eventually, Finally, Rambling, Confessions, of sorts, Not Canon Compliant, Fix-It of Sorts, technecally?

Summary:

The five times Steve Harrington nearly kisses Eddie Munson and the one time he actually does. (A 5+1 countdown to Vol.2 fic)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with 6/6 chapters.

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

[foreverautumn89]

""Jonathan was useless in S4 and just got high the whole time""

The anti-Jonathan ppl be like: "" I hated Jonathan in S4. Jonathan was useless. All he did was get high. Steve is so much better because he took care of the kids in S4 and was saving everybody while Jonathan did nothing.'' [[**And no this isn't a attack Steve post, its a 'attacking fans points about Jonathan' post]]

But in the Stranger Things I watched it was completely different. I need to explain that I live in a different dimension apparently where my ST is superior I guess idk because the way the anti-jonathan st fans talk about stuff in this show usually never matches with what I'm seeing in the show so conclusion: I must be in an alternate dimension I guess idk...

And its the point that *so many ppl keep saying this* so I need to address it:

In the ST S4 I watched: Jonathan got high at most it could have been was in the first two episodes. Once he was left in charge of the kids, he didn't smoke weed. the point is they say thats all he did....so we just continue to keep making stuff up to make Jonathan look bad?

Also Jonathan is useless in S4 and didn't help anybody???? how? THAT IS ALL HE DID. How was it that all he did was 'smoke weed' and nothing else when Jonathan spent the ENTIRE season saving and protecting Will El and Mike and being there for them? His whole storyline that season [apart from his friendship with Argyle] was about THAT.

Another thing they say is that Jonathan had no development/and especially not in S4 even though Argyle exists. that was great too to see Jonathan start opening up and trusting new people and letting new people into his life [usually he pushed ppl away and had trust issues because of Lonnie's abuse/Jonathan getting bullied ext] So it shows great development on J's part. I won't go into all of it again in great depth but you get the gist. Nobody pushed him to be friends with Argyle. He made that friend all on his own and its starting to open up and trust people and let them into his life now.

So all Jonathan's storyline was in S4 HIS ENTIRE STORYLINE was character development for him/showing how hes grown + him saving protecting and taking care of the kids the entire time and helping to save the world.

But apparently to the fans Jonathan is still somehow useless and selfish and ppl have said hes just as bad as Lonnie in S4. And all the other characters get appreciated for their contribution in saving everyone that season, but Jonathan didn't do anything and hes useless again.

And I have a lot more to say about this subject but I'll leave it there for now and might just post the rest of this subject un-edited cause I'm so fed up talking about this.

------

This is just ONE of the comments I'm talking about. The only reason this is on display is because its the latest one I found last night. This was actually mild and didn't bother me compared to the stuff they usually say about S4 Jonathan since its usually a lot worse. But also this comment it just ridiculous too considering all the things I mentioned above.

[rocknrollsalad]

STWG Daily Prompt (Dec 10) - Your favorite song

🚙 characters/pairings: stargyle

💨 Argyle thinks he knows what Steve's favorite song is and tries to woo him a bit with it.

📻 content/trigger warnings: weed use, implied sexual activities, mentions of the torture steve went through

🎵 word count: 1034

Argyle’s pizza van idles in a parking place. Every night this week he’d come to pick Steve up from work. It was an odd role reversal and Steve struggled to accept it the first few nights. More so the first night since it meant leaving his car but they got it worked out. Now it was, well, it was still more than Steve felt he deserved but he’d stopped saying that.

Something was different tonight, though. Steve ran through all the problems there could have been. Argyle blew through his gas money and now didn’t have enough to get all the way home to some major problem with one of their friends and Argyle didn’t know how to break the news. The latter was what Steve’s brain latched on to, naturally, and pressed it further. Robin wasn’t okay, he needed to get home.

Urgency built in Steve that Argyle didn’t share. He sat there in the driver’s seat, one leg tucked in, and turned toward Steve. Rather than looking panicked or heartbroken, Argyle looked like a child. Bright-eyed, trying not to smile and struggling to sit still. So Steve focused on that. Nothing was going on, everything was fine, and everyone was safe. Argyle’s not a good enough actor for anything else.

Still, the anxiety sat in the back of Steve’s chest. It never truly went away, just became manageable. To keep it at bay, Steve leaned on the armrest and stretched himself across the space between the seats to steal a kiss…and the joint while Argyle’s defenses were down. Both worked with very little protest.

Holding the smoke in, Steve tried to let everything else fall away. The anxiety over being in the parking lot when they should be halfway home, the stress of eight hours in retail, and all the what-ifs and never-going-to-happen scenarios he’d cooked up. They all needed to go and as the song switched to Duran Duran, Steve coughed out the breath he held too long.

As Steve coughed and tried to find his breath, Argyle laughed and took back custody of the joint. He cracked jokes and Steve flipped him off. Another perk in whatever this was he and Argyle had found. Rarely was anything serious. Obviously, there was a time and place but for the most part, they got to laugh, have fun, and mock each other. Steve’s love languages.

Fully recovered and unable to keep quiet, Steve asked “Why are we still sitting here? I mean, not that it’s not fun. We’ve almost got the windows fully fogged up but…what is happening?”

“Just wait a minute more. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Well, that didn’t sound like something they’d want the windows fogged up for. Steve shifted in his seat again, desperate to find some way to sit that would make this all make sense.

As the song ended, Argyle’s feet dropped to the floor. He’d been all over that seat today, Steve was half tempted to offer to drive.

“Our next song goes out to Steve…” the DJ started.

“Finally!” Argyle said, flinging back against the window.

“…you’ve got a secret admirer out there who wanted you to hear your favorite song tonight in hopes you were thinking of her.”

“Her?” Steve asked the DJ, almost confused at who could be responsible. One look at the proud man beside him said that “her” was very much an assumed pronoun or a cover story.

There was a dopey grin growing on Argyle’s face as Bonnie Tyler started singing “Every now and then I get a little bit lonely…”

Argyle reached out and twisted the dial, turning what was background noise into the main feature, waiting eagerly to hear Steve’s thoughts.

“Is this my favorite song?” he asked innocently.

It was the wrong question. Argyle deflated back in his seat. “You and Robin sing this all the time. No one can say the words ‘turn around’ without you two singing something. It makes you so happy, I thought you just really loved the song.”

“It’s because,” Steve didn’t know how to finish that.

How did he explain that it was once a joke at someone else’s expense that had taken on a life of its own? Argyle certainly wasn’t the type to mock someone’s singing voice. He’d find something good to say. To avoid that Steve could make it worse. He could play the sympathy card and talk about the bonding moments between him and Robin and what led them to that song. Things they try not to think about and cover with jokes. No answer is great.

Steve still has to try something. “It’s a long-running joke between the two of us. Something that sprouted legs and, obviously, we lean on it a little too much.”

“So it’s not your favorite song?”

With a sigh, Steve tries his best to look apologetic. “No, it’s not a bad song, though.”

Argyle sat with the news for a minute before nodding with newfound purpose. “Alright, I’ll find your favorite song then! And get the radio guy to figure out how to tell time better.”

“What?”

“I told him you got off work at seven so he needed to play it at 7:05. Not 7:22.”

Weirdly, Steve relates. The trying so hard and thinking he’s on to something, only to be wrong. The song, the timing, it all fell apart but the effort was more than anyone had ever put into Steve. Not to mention, Argyle didn’t ask what his favorite song actually was. He declared he’d figure it out. He wanted to learn not to be told and while Steve wants to start dropping very obvious hints, he also wants to guard the information and make him really work for it.

The song ends and a guy called Wallace gets the next dedication. Some Adam and the Ants shit for his tenth wedding anniversary, giving Steve this small hope that in ten years they’ll be sitting in a parking lot much like this, waiting to hear some song that isn’t his favorite but means something to THEM. Not him and Robin, not the party, but him and Argyle.

For now, they’ll take advantage of the extra room in the van and the already fogged up windows.

[rogueddie]

Is That All It Takes / Slither

At the end of the world, Steve is sure that there's no better time for romance. They need all the positives they can get and, in his mind, resolving potential romantic tension is great.

Even if he ends up rejected, like with Robin, he knows that it has the potential to make them better friends. He's not sure he would be as tightly bonded to Robin if he hadn't tried to ask her out- it's a decision he's always been strangely proud of.

The only problem? Steve is usually put into different groups- Robin, Nancy, the kids...

"Good job you've both got tonight off," Robin points out.

Steve qucikly sits up. "What? The whole night?"

With the teams they have, almost everyone is on rotation for patrol of their little camp every night. Having a night off, completely, is rare. Having a night off at the same time as Argyle?

"The whole night," Robin confirms. "Someone said something about him being the only one in that group not on rotation tonight, so I offered to cover for you."

"I was supposed to be with Nancy, wasn't I?"

She throws a notebook at him. It's the one she uses for her notes and doodles- as well as her 'poems'.

When he catches the book, she immediately realizes her mistake and dives after it. They're tangled on the floor, giggling from their attempt at wrestling, when Hopper pokes his head in to call Robin out for her turn on patrol.

"You kids having fun?" He asks.

They both scramble to their feet, despite the smile he has that reassures them that they aren't in trouble.

"Sorry," Steve smiles sheepishly.

"It's fine," Hopper waves him off. "You ready, Buckley?"

"Yep! Let's go!"

A beat after she leaves, Steve realizes he forgot to ask where Argyle will actually be for the night.

It shouldn't be hard, he thinks, trying to reassure himself. From what Steve has seen, or heard through Robin, he usually sticks to the same three spots. It shouldn't take too long to check them out.

And, hopefully, Argyle won't be in his bunk already. Steve crosses his fingers as he heads out.

He finds him in the second place he checks- he's just behind the building they use for storage. He's smoking.

"Hi," Steve greets. He tries to smile, hope it doesn't look as awkward as it feels. "You doing alright?"

"Not bad," Argyle nods. He offers his cigerrette, but Steve shakes his head. He shrugs as he gestures towards the woods. "Quiet."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, not sure what else to say.

He leans against the wall, crossing his arms, slowly realizing that he should have thought of something to actually talk about before he went looking for him.

"We should grow weed," he blurts out. He nearly slaps himself, barely holding back a wince.

Argyle hums, thankfully keeping his eyes forward as he thinks it over. "Yeah. We should. It'd be nice to be able to chill again. Shit's stressful."

"Right," Steve agrees. He does wince this time, hating how lame he sounds. He's sure he's better at this sort of thing.

"How you doing?" Argyle asks, turning to him. "Never see much of you."

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright. This sort of thing is like... well, it's becoming a sort of comfort. I'm kinda thankful for it." He pauses, almost stumbling over his words when he tries to quickly point out; "patroling, I mean! Like, guarding and... that."

"Mm, yeah. One of the small ones mentioned that you're, like, the babysitter. Patrolling is another way of keeping an eye on the kids."

"Right, exactly. Yeah."

"It's good, you know," Argyle continues, before Steve can start to internally scold himself again. "Nice to know you're looking out for us."

"I'm on a good a good team," he shrugs.

"You're not very good at this, huh?"

"What?"

"There you are!" Someone calls suddenly, loud enough to make Steve flinch. It's Mike, leaning around the corner, frowning. "You said five minutes!"

"Slow your roll, dude! I'm on my way!"

"Hurry up!"

Argyle snorts. He turns to Steve, raising an eyebrow. "You know which one is my room, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so?"

"Cool. See you in, like, an hour."

Steve wants to feel frustrated. If Argyle wasn't the one to take initiative, the whole interaction would have gone to shit. Steve could feel any potential slipping straight through his fingers.

But, judging by the implications... well. At least he knows that Argyle is also interested.

[strangeswift]

ficlet for my dear @mayahawkins “cali crew stop at a motel and there was only one bed (has this been done a million times? yes, but go wild with it, make it ridiculous)”

The motel lobby was small and dingy, with moth bitten floral curtains draped over the windows and glass vases with bouquets of plastic flowers covered in a thick layer of dust. In fact, Will was a little concerned about breathing in all the dust, but he figured he survived seven days breathing toxic Upside Down air, so he could probably handle a little dust.

Jonathan rang the bell at the check in desk, the metal tarnished from years of use. A short woman with dark gray hair and leathery skin appeared from a back room and looked the four of them up and down.

Will figured they had to be quite a sight. Argyle was still high as hell, the whites of his eyes almost completely red and a dopey grin on his face. Jonathan wasn’t much better, though Will knew some of that was from exhaustion more than it was from weed, since Jonathan hadn’t smoked as much or as recently as Argyle. Mike’s hair was sticking up on one side where he’d dozed off leaning against the window of the van, and he looked incredibly pissed off. He wasn’t particularly happy about Jonathan making the decision to stop for the night. Will was sure he looked a mess as well, and he was even more sure that the four of them smelled absolutely rank. 

The woman put her hands on her hips. “Can I help you boys?” she asked in a gravelly voice.

“Yes,” Jonathan said confidently, “We need a room. Two rooms, if you have them.”

“We only got one,” the woman rasped.

“That’s fine,” Jonathan said, glancing at Will with what may have been a look of sympathy, “We can double up."

“No, sugar, we’ve only got one single. It’s a king,” she said.

“You’ve only got one bed in this whole place?” Mike interjected, less patient than Jonathan had been, but to be fair Mike had less weed in his system. None, to be exact.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Mike. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Jonathan said before Mike could get into an argument with an elderly motel clerk, “We’ll take it if it’s all you have.”

Jonathan paid for the room and took the key, which was attached to a red plastic keychain with the number one in chipped white paint. Room one was at the end of the hallway, which Mike commented made no sense, and while Will agreed he didn’t see why Mike was so peeved about it.

The room was extraordinarily small. The king sized bed stretched almost from wall to wall on either side, you almost had to turn sideways to walk along the sides of the bed. There was a stretch of floor along the foot of the bed, some of which was covered by a small writing desk. The carpet was… well, it was disgusting. There were so many stains it looked like a Jackson Pollock original if Jackson Pollock worked solely with browns and yellows. It was impossible to tell what color the carpet had originally been, but Will hoped tan, because that’s what it was now.

“I don’t know if I want to sleep on that floor even with a blanket over it,” Will said, “I don’t want anything to like… seep through.”

Mike grimaced. “That’s fucking disgusting. You think the bathroom’s this gross? I’d rather sleep in a bathtub.”

Will followed as Mike swung the bathroom door open and flicked the light on. The light made a rattling sound as it flickered to life, and even when it did it was incredibly dim. 

"This room is like something out of a goddamn horror movie," Mike said.

Will watched a spider run from the wall into a small vent on the floor and shuddered. Mike drew back the shower curtain in a swift motion.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Will said as Mike groaned. The ceramic tub was streaked with rust stains and a layer of green grime sat on the bottom.

“So much for sleeping in there,” Mike grumbled.

"Not like you'd fit anyway," Will added.

They exited the bathroom to find Argyle already passed out on one side of the bed and Jonathan sitting at the small desk with his head in his hands.

“Seriously, he just decided he gets the bed?” Mike asked, nudging Argyle’s leg not particularly gently, though Argyle didn’t stir.

“Well, I think we’re gonna have to share,” Jonathan said reluctantly.

“All of us?” Will asked, affronted.

“Well, yeah,” Jonathan said with a shrug, “It’s a big bed.”

“Not big enough for four!” Mike said.

“Okay, well you do whatever you want, Mike. I’m fucking tired,” Jonathan said, climbing into the bed on top of the duvet and settling in close to Argyle, leaving room on the other side of him.

Mike scoffed. “This is insane.”

Will frowned. “Yeah. It is,” he paused, “But I need sleep.”

Will ignored Mike’s disbelief as he got in bed next to his brother, leaving a very small space that Mike could squeeze into if he wanted.

Mike shook his head. “This is crazy,” he said, sitting in the small wooden desk chair, “I’ll just fucking sleep here.”

“Suit yourself,” Jonathan mumbled, “Can you hit the lights?”

Mike huffed and got up to flick the lights off. Once he did, the room was illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window. Mike didn’t wait for his eyes to adjust and stumbled a little walking back to the chair.

“Shit,” he hissed, and slumped back into the chair, leaning his upper body on the desk and trying to get comfortable.

After fifteen minutes or so of silence, save for the cheap AC periodically kicking on with a rattling sound, Will was actually starting to drift off. That was until he felt someone standing above him and jolted awake.

“Mike?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Mike said at full volume, “Uh, can you scoot over?”

Will was on his back, and he wiggled slightly closer to his brother, who was on his side with his back turned to him. “Sorry, that’s as far as I can go.”

Mike nodded and crawled into the bed, also lying on his back, his shoulder pressed snugly against Will’s. It was a little pathetic, how Will’s pulse picked up at that.

“Is your brother spooning Argyle?” Mike asked after a moment.

“This is what it looks like to be secure in your manhood, little dude,” Argyle answered serenely.

“I thought you were asleep,” Mike said.

“Well it’s a little hard to stay asleep when you won’t stop talking,” Jonathan piped up.

“It’s a little hard to sleep in a dingy motel bed with three other guys!” Mike retorted.

“Shhh,” Argyle said, “Just snuggle up to baby Byers and let the Sandman sprinkle his magical sleepy sand, my guy.”

Will was grateful that it was too dark for anyone to see the way his face went bright red at that.

“What?” Mike squeaked, “I’m not gonna cuddle up to Will, that’s–”

“Mike,” Jonathan interjected harshly, “Please shut up. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Mike huffed. Will guessed that Jonathan’s clipped tone wasn’t just because he was annoyed about being kept awake, and he didn’t know whether to feel thankful or pathetic.

Suddenly, something occurred to Will.

“Hey, Jonathan?” Will asked.

“Yeah, buddy?” Jonathan answered.

“Why don’t two of us just sleep in the van?”

There was a moment of silence before Jonathan burst out laughing. “That’s a good fucking question.”

Mike sat up immediately, “Will and I will go,” he said quickly.

Will felt his face heat up again, which was so fucking stupid, because obviously Mike would want to sleep with him over Jonathan or Argyle.

“Sure, fine,” Jonathan said, “Keys are on the desk.”

They made Argyle and Jonathan relinquish the duvet from the bed and Will followed Mike out to the parking lot. They spread the blanket out on the floor of the van, and Mike climbed in first with Will following.

Will slid the door shut, and Mike was already getting settled.

“Tired as shit,” Mike muttered, turning his back to Will.

“Yeah,” Will agreed quietly. He didn’t lie down immediately. 

“You okay?” Mike asked, though he wasn’t facing him.

“Fine,” Will said, and laid down to prevent any further questions. There was more room to spread out in the van than there had been in the crowded bed, so he and Mike weren’t touching like they had been before. Will mourned the loss of Mike’s arm pressed solidly against his.

“You sure?” Mike asked through a yawn.

“I’m sure,” Will responded.

Unexpectedly, Mike flipped over to face Will. Will’s breath hitched.

“Sorry if I was weird,” Mike murmured. 

“What?” Will asked.

“When Argyle was talking about us… cuddling or whatever. Sorry if I seemed weird, or like… defensive.”

“I didn’t think you were defensive,” Will said, “I thought you were grossed out.”

Mike huffed a laugh. “I wasn’t grossed out. Not by you.”

“Oh,” Will said.

“Can I–” Mike started to ask but cut himself off.

“Yeah,” Will answered without thinking. His cheeks tinged pink once he realized how eagerly he’d agreed to something Mike hadn’t even asked.

“You’re sure?” Mike asked.

Will nodded, still not knowing exactly what to expect.

Mike inched closer, until they were pressed together like they’d been on the bed. Will held his breath. What was Mike doing? And why?

“I think,” Mike said, "I might sleep better this way.”

“Okay,” Will responded quietly, not trusting his voice at anything above a whisper.

It didn’t take long for Mike’s presence and his warmth to lull Will to sleep, not to mention how ridiculously exhausted they both were. Now wasn't the time to question things or to have a crisis about the feeling of Mike's skin on his.

Next thing Will knew, the van door was being slid open and sunlight was pouring into the van. He cracked his eyes open and squinted up at Jonathan and Argyle, standing above him outside the door. The next thing he registered was arms wrapped firmly around him, soft breaths on his neck, and hair tickling his jaw. Before he could even start to process that, Mike jolted awake and rolled off of Will with wide eyes, staring at Jonathan and Argyle.

Jonathan’s expression was unreadable, but Argyle shot Mike a thumbs up.

Mike’s face was bright red as he met Will’s eyes. Will gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that wasn’t too incriminating. Maybe he was supposed to act repulsed, or laugh it off and punch Mike’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure, but he did know that he didn’t want Mike to feel embarrassed.

To Will’s surprise, Mike smiled back. “How did you sleep?” he asked Will.

“Really well, actually,” Will answered honestly.

“Yeah, me too,” Mike said, the soft smile not leaving his face.

“Cool,” Will said.

“Cool, Mike repeated.

Will wasn’t really sure what to make of it. He tried not to overthink. He and Mike were okay, and that was all that mattered.

[spicysix]

anywhere u go

Argyle had no idea the living nightmare he was getting himself into when he first decided to follow Jonathan Byers. Well, he'd do it again in a heartbeat anyway.

rating: T

warnings: this fic includes weed, the teeniest hint of ptsd, questionable informations about the united states' AND the canadian's geography from a brazilian writer (so, probably, mistakes. look past them pls), also questionable english by a brazilian writer not beta-read, weather as a metaphor, and subtle pining.

word count: 5.6k

author's note: title from the song of the same name by Tove Lo. written for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanwork Challenge, for the dialogue prompt “I’m really glad we did this”. thanks for hosting this amazing event @thefreakandthehair ♡

↳ read on ao3

If someone asked him, Argyle wasn’t sure he’d be able to retell the whole thing.

And, sure, maybe you could blame the weed a little bit. He might have partaken in it a few times here or there during the whole thing. It was right there in the van! How could he say no? Not at any of the big moments, though, of course not. He’s a stoner, not an idiot. He only smoked twice on the road when Jonathan was the one driving, that hotbox he did with Eden, beautiful goth goddess of his dreams, and once to prepare the pizza during the whole freezer piggyback thing (he likes being high when working in the kitchen okay, don’t go away judging). When they got to Hawkins, he only collected mushrooms, didn’t do them. He didn’t even have the time.

It wasn’t any kind of substance that made the next few weeks go by hazily.

It was just too much.

Chaos was installed when they arrived in Hawkins. Earthquakes had ripped open wounds into the soil of the small town — living, squeamish, bleeding wounds. Argyle learned later they were portals to the dimension under their own, where all the problems surrounding his friend’s family came from in the first place.

People were missing and hurt, some even died with the way the gates tore through houses and buildings, and the mood around Hawkins as they drove through it was rightfully sour.

Jonathan drove to his girlfriend’s house, some other people were already there and it was a beautiful reunion, it really was, but Argyle felt out of place. They parted ways after, and the ones that had been there already headed to the High School to drop some donations — except for Nancy, who went inside the van and into the passenger seat as if she owned it.

It had been Argyle’s.

But it was okay, he stayed in the back with the kiddos.

They went to the hospital, one of them — the one Supergirl had mentally piggybacked on — was hurt and in a coma. Argyle waited in the van as the rest of them went in to see her — he didn’t know her, didn’t want to invade their space.

After the visit they headed to an old cabin in the woods, abandoned, destroyed, pieces of its ceiling missing. Jonathan said Supergirl used to live there with her dad, the dead cop, and while they all reconnected and cleaned up the place, Argyle found those mushrooms that he didn’t use.

Didn’t even have the time to, because suddenly it was snowing ashes and he found his friend and his friend’s family — including his mom and a tall skinny bald guy, where did they come from? — looking over the city from the hill and the open field, and the flowers were dead and there was smoke coming from the place where all the portals met downtown.

Too much happening at the same time, and suddenly Jonathan was grabbing Argyle’s wrist and pulling him back to the van, “let’s go get the others, oh and by the way the tall skinny bald guy is the dead cop, oh and by the way my mom went to the Soviet Union to rescue him, oh and by the way the world is ending.”

So they went back to the hospital, to warn the siblings that were keeping watch over the comatose redhead, but they didn’t wanna join them back. Told Jonathan to reach through the walkies if he needed them.

So they went to the school, found the pretty guy and the cute girl that looked and acted like siblings plus the small curly one, pretty guy told them all they could go to his house cause it was big and clean and empty and they could use it as headquarters. Nancy shivered at the suggestion, her jaw tensed and Jonathan looked at her with caution, but they all agreed anyway.

So they went to pretty guy’s house, it really was big and clean and empty — all sadly so. The ones coming from California took their much needed showers, un-dead cop called a friend of his and told him to come meet them, the kids reached out to the siblings in the hospital to let them know where they all were.

It was too much.

Argyle set the water of his shower to the coldest temperature he could bare to try and shock some sense into himself. Looked at his reflection in the mirror and if it wasn’t him, he wouldn’t know all the shit that guy went through that last week. Government agents dying in his work van that he ended up stealing, a superpowered girl he helped rescue, an evil dimension with an evil wizard, people in comas and people coming back from the dead, gates to the underworld burning through a small town — and how he got roped into all of that by following a friend across the country.

He’d say he was a pretty good friend at that point.

He waited in the living room with the others as everyone went through rotations of showers, and cute girl made him a sandwich and it was nice of her, Little Byers sat by his side cause he was one of the only people who knew Argyle, and it was nice of him. When Jonathan arrived all cleaned up and smelling soapy, he sat by Argyle’s other side and Argyle felt himself relax if only a little.

They waited until un-dead cop’s friend showed up, and for some reason he showed up with two other Russian guys and a government lady and oh boy was Argyle even more confused.

Everyone took their turns retelling their own stories and gluing all the pieces together, and it was a somber story, it was bad as a horror movie and Argyle kind of wanted to throw himself out the window and get in the first bus back to California but he had no one there and in here he at least had the Byers. They were a good family, the closest to one Argyle had. So he stuck around through the puzzle.

Once in a while they referenced something that had happened in the years before and Argyle didn’t get the references because he hadn’t been there but he was sure Jonathan could fill him in later. Or he wouldn’t, and Argyle wouldn’t mind that either because it would at least save him from nightmares.

There had been losses, some friend of theirs in Hawkins — small curly one seemed to be the most affected by it, and Supergirl’s boyfriend was also really upset when he learned the news. Besides him, other three teenagers were victims of the evil wizard, plus their friend who survived but was in a coma.

On their side, a doctor dead and a doctor missing — apparently captured by the side of the government that was trying to kill Supergirl, that government lady said. Not her side trying to kill Supergirl. Another side. But apparently the doctors could help and it was relevant to know about their situation. The parents didn’t seem to agree a lot, and neither did Supergirl.

Un-dead cop’s friend made a joke about how at least on their side only bad commies had died, but the joke didn’t land. They weren’t in a nice mood for jokes.

It was too much, everyone talking about terrible things happening and talking over each other and Argyle’s head was about to explode in pain so at some point when they were all going through the timeline for the third time, he escaped and headed outside through the front door.

Jonathan found him after a couple of minutes.

“Is this too much?” he asked, and Argyle nodded. “I’m sorry. Wish we could smoke right now,” he said.

Argyle hummed, “It’s gonna look real unprofessional of us if we do, though, right?”

“It really will.” Jonathan chuckled, but it was dry and humorless.

They just stood there in silence for a few minutes, and Argyle’s fingers were trembling a little and maybe it was abstinence, probably was, but the clouds were fucking red and the smoke still made ashes rain down and it was terrifying.

“We should go inside,” Jonathan said after a while.

Argyle sighed and followed him in.

Over the next week they all hung out almost exclusively in pretty boy’s house (pretty boy’s name was Steve, Argyle learned. He dated Nancy before Jonathan did. They had a weird thing going on) and planned for the next step they’d take into, hopefully for the last time, saving the world. Well, it was Argyle’s first, but it still counted right. The kids called their parents and they all seemed to trust the old teens to be good babysitters even during the apocalypse, plus Ms. Byers and the un-dead cop were of course to be trusted.

Argyle was mostly tuned out of everything, but that was okay, firstly because he was the last one to join the mess and didn’t know the details as well as the rest of them, and it wasn’t a good use of their time to explain it to Argyle time and time again when they could be plotting strategies. So Argyle took over pretty boy Steve’s kitchen and kept his battalion fed and strong for battle.

The other reason he kept tuned out was, of course, so he wouldn’t freak the fuck out.

Keeping himself entertained with cooking — and, not going to lie, a little weed here and there when they found it — was the only thing still keeping him from that original plan of throwing himself out the window and catching the first bus back to California.

Sometimes the rest of the Party — as they called themselves, what a weird bunch — would help or at least keep him company. Un-dead cop’s friend (un-dead cop was Hopper, friend was Murray) was a great cook as Argyle already knew from that risotto, but he was also really weird and gave Argyle the creeps. Ms. Byers kept telling him to call her Joyce, tried her best in the kitchen and her food wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t good. He liked talking to her, though. Cute girl — pretty boy Steve’s platonic soulmate, Robin — was real funny and a delight to talk to, but a fire hazard personified and not allowed near the stove. Steve could bake some mean breakfast and he was also really cool, Argyle didn’t know why Jonathan was so adamant about keeping a grudge.

“You’d like Eddie, he was a dealer,” Steve said one night as they sat in the backyard staring at the pool and smoking what was left of Argyle’s purple palm tree delight. “And he for sure would like you, and this.” Steve waved the joint around before handing it back to Argyle. Steve’s smile was sad, and Argyle hadn’t known the guy so he didn’t know how to feel or what to say. So they just kept smoking.

Nancy was how Argyle found out about the whole story between her, Jonathan and Steve — and Argyle understood partly why Jonathan held a grudge. Steve was a nice guy now though, Nancy said and Argyle knew it was true because they talked and smoked a lot late at nights, but it wasn’t his place to tell Jonathan how to feel about his girlfriend’s ex who called him slurs, physically fought him and then saved his life more than once. It was a tough spot, alright.

The kids were something else. He barely saw the siblings — Lucas Erica, the ones at comatose redhead’s, Max, bedside. They were, all three of them, constantly brought up, though, and it almost made it seem like they were there all the time. The small curly one, Dustin, seemed to think he was touched by god’s wisdom at all times, and it could be funny but it could also be a little annoying. He was pretty Steve’s favorite, though. That was interesting. Little Byers (Will) and Mike — Supergirl’s now ex-boyfriend — had something going on but Argyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what. Jonathan went grumpy anytime they were together, and his older brother protective act was amusing.

Supergirl — Jane, El — was Argyle’s favorite though, and there was no competition there. She was weird and tiny and badass and adorable and a huge menace, not only in the way that she could literally blow things up with her mind, but because she could be a little troublemaker kid in the best way a kid should be a troublemaker in. She was sweet and delicate and just so fucking little, and her shoulders were too tiny to hold all the weight they carried, so Argyle did his best to bake her the frozen waffles she loved, told her funny exaggerated stories so she’d laugh, gave her tight hugs whenever she needed them. It was sad that she needed them a lot. But she always thanked him and told him his hugs were the best hugs ever, so he’d hug her once again before letting her go. He liked that she smiled a lot near him. The world owed her more smiles, and he was glad to take that task.

Jonathan did his best to make Argyle feel like he was part of it all. Argyle wasn’t so sure if he even wanted to be a part of it all in the first place, but since he was dragged to it without any other option, he was glad he at least had Jonathan by his side. He chose to pair up with Argyle when they were assigned guest bedrooms in Steve’s big house so Argyle wouldn’t be alone, even if he could be with Nancy. He never scolded Argyle for smoking because he knew Argyle did it to cope, to calm down, to get less stressed and anxious — and he knew the situation was stressing and anxiety-inducing as hell. He never complained if Argyle didn’t participate in their planning sessions because he knew Argyle’s lack of previous knowledge would probably just slow them down, and once during the night he said he’d do anything to leave Argyle as out of it as he could, that he felt guilty for bringing Argyle into all of it in the first place.

Argyle blamed him, it really was kind of Jonathan’s fault, but he also forgave him.

He forgave him the second after it all happened.

He would probably follow Jonathan anyway even if he knew beforehand where he was headed to.

He followed Jonathan into the final battle against that slimy, evil, twisted, disgusting son of a bitch. He followed Jonathan with homemade armor and homemade weapons, and a courage he didn’t really have. He followed Jonathan, El, Will, and Joyce — and all the rest of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family. He was stuck with them now forever, he knew it. He wasn’t complaining. They were his family now, too.

But that specific day, that was the one that was the most blurred out. Maybe it was a coping mechanism that his fucked up brain came up with to give him a rest, or maybe it was his brain too fucked up from all the weed usage, but he was glad either way. If someone asked him, Argyle was sure he wouldn’t be able to retell the whole thing.

It was way too much. He was glad he didn’t remember.

They were all alive and sore and bruised and hurt after it, and they all still stayed in Steve’s big house — to make sure they were all together if it wasn’t really over, and because they healed better as a pack. The government lady had found her lost doctor sometime in the middle of it all, and the whole Party got some good deals out of everything. Argyle wasn’t even going to be sued by Surfer Boy Pizza for stealing a company van. He actually got to keep it, and he took out the surfboard from the roof, took out all the company stickers, cleaned it up real good and it ended up looking like a regular beautiful yellow van where no man had ever died inside.

El seemed to have lost her powers for good this time, but she was relieved. Will was never haunted by the creepy chills in the back of his neck again. Max woke up, and she was blind and would probably never walk again, but she was so grateful. Argyle cooked her favorite food — information provided by El — when she was released from the hospital, and of course she was led straight to Steve’s house. She didn’t know Argyle before the apocalypse almost took her away, but she thanked him with a beautiful crooked smile of a girl who defeated death, and everyone surrounded her with love and warmth and everything was almost perfect. They were acting like the kids they were. They were allowed to, now. The only thing they’d have to worry about from now on was school and homework, the occasional regular teenage problems. No more evil scientists, no more evil wizards, no more evil dimensions. Just, a bad grade in Latin, or having an unrequited crush, a pimple in the middle of their foreheads. Argyle was so happy for them.

Jonathan and the rest of the older ones also got to go back to normal. Steve and Robin’s only worry was finding a new job. Nancy and Jonathan finally talked it out and resolved their issues — by breaking up. Nancy would go to Emerson, Boston, as she wished, and Jonathan didn’t want to and it was fine. They had grown too much, apart from each other in the few months they were away. They didn’t need to be each other’s grounding points anymore, because they could find other people and find themselves and worry about regular young adult stuff like a bad grade in Journalism 101 or the fact they were out of weed or photographic film.

Jonathan wanted to go to New York.

Argyle could get on the first bus back to California, but he had no one there and that was okay, because here he had Jonathan. Jonathan, who Argyle crossed the country for, who Argyle walked into Hell for, who Argyle would probably follow anywhere.

So Jonathan decided to go to New York, and Argyle decided to follow him.

They took the renewed regular yellow van where no man had ever died, belts buckled in for the first time ever because they valued their lives a whole lot now. They took an atlas from Robin’s collection, a few pre-rolled joints Steve bought from god knows who, a bunch of snacks the kids gathered for them, clothes they borrowed because they ran away from California with no bags, and a tight hug from each and every one of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family.

They took the I-69 to Indy, the I-70 to Pittsburgh, the I-76 to Philadelphia, and the I-95 to New York. Twenty hours on the road was nothing considering it took them three days to get from middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Nevada) to middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Indiana). They took turns driving, stopped for gas and lunch and dinner and a smoke session, slept in the back of the van in a parking lot until they weren’t high anymore, arrived in New York as the sky was pouring down on the city.

“The rain is nice,” Jonathan commented as he looked through the window in the passenger seat.

It hadn’t rained in Hawkins ever since the world almost ended. No matter how many times they showered, bathed, scrubbed all the grime and dirt and blood away, sometimes it still felt like they weren’t clean. The town was definitely still dirty.

“The rain is nice,” Argyle agreed.

They kept driving around, they got trapped in traffic, they got screamed and horned at, they laughed back because it felt nonsensical to be mad about cars in streets. They stopped at a diner, ate a bunch of eggs sunny side up, to counter the weather, watched the regulars and the waitresses and the cook in their routines, and they smiled at each other because it was so nice to see normal things for once. People living their normal lives. Not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids in the corner booth almost died so they could be spilling coffee on the counter and getting their mouths dirty with grease.

They asked for a cheap recommendation on a place they could rest, drove a little more, got a little more trapped in traffic, got a little more yelled and horned at, until they found the shitty motel that the waitress promised was decently cleaned no matter how fucked up it looked on the outside. But their expectations bar wasn’t high, anyway. They had two beds, separated by a tiny nightstand table, and they fell asleep turned to face each other, curtains open and bathroom lights on because the darkness couldn’t be trusted.

Next day emerged with the clouds all gone, the weirdest of contrasts, and a chilly wind kept throwing Argyle’s hair to all sides and Jonathan kept looking at him with a soft smile whenever it whipped his pale skin. They left the van in the motel and walked and walked and walked until their feet hurt, had no idea where they were going and no exact place to go to, a joint shared and their fingers touched and their mouths wrapped around the same paper. It was nothing, and it was everything.

They watched people passing by, everyone in such a hurry, people scowling and people smiling and people somehow with their expressions completely neutral. People living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids walking shoulder to shoulder almost died so they could be running to catch the subway or signing for a cab to stop.

They managed to get back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, turned to face each other, curtains open, bathroom lights left on.

Jonathan wanted to go to NYU.

Ever since he was six years old, he told Argyle. The Tisch Photography program was a big one, his dream ever since he had a bowl cut worst than Will’s, when his father was still home and his mom wasn’t overprotective because none of them knew monsters existed just under their feet.

Jonathan’s eyes gleamed as he spoke about the university, so Argyle offered and Jonathan agreed, and the next day Jonathan hopped on a subway train and Argyle followed him.

The subway was too much, Argyle noticed. He shared a look with Jonathan over someone else’s shoulder and knew they were thinking the same.

They went south south south to Greenwich Village with its pretty brownstones and its artsy students roaming around, so many of them, and Jonathan stopped across the street looking at the Tisch building for a long time, inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk, his fellow hipsters having to walk around him. Argyle looked at Jonathan the whole time, saw it firsthand as his gears turned, as the gleam in his eyes faded, as the wrinkle in his forehead deepened.

“Too much?” he asked.

Jonathan nodded. “For now, at least.”

Argyle just started walking and Jonathan followed, and they just walked across Greenwich Village until they were at the pier and they looked at New Jersey from afar, all the ferries crossing the Hudson, people still in a hurry all the goddamn time and Argyle’s fingers tapped against the railing that was there to stop him from falling into the water. He kinda wanted to do it just to see what it would feel like. He lost track of time staring at the water, and the boats, and the people on the boats living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware of the two weird kids on the pier that almost died so they could cross the river on a daily basis; and he felt Jonathan staring at him and maybe it should’ve been the other way around.

“Wanna try again?” he asked after, maybe, hours, and Jonathan nodded.

They walked back, Jonathan stopped inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk across the street, stared at the Tisch building for what wasn’t longer than a minute and a half.

“Too much,” he decided.

They took the subway back north north north to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, curtains open, bathroom lights left on. Jonathan turned away and slept looking at the wall. Argyle slept looking at Jonathan’s back.

Sun was still out bright the next day.

They went out silently for breakfast at a café a few blocks down, heard the weirdest fucking story told by the people sitting at the table next to them. One look at each other and they were back at the motel, into the van, across the bridge, east east east into Long Island and clouds started to appear the more further east they went.

Montauk sure had that creepy energy hanging in the air, as if everyone was constantly waiting for the shoe to drop, but it somehow didn’t feel as world-ending as Hawkins did. Jonathan whispered that if Will was there, he’d probably be scratching his neck by now.  They kept heading east, into the State Park, to the lookout, out of the van. Stared at the ocean. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contained, and it should’ve been too much but Argyle let out a long sigh and breathed in deeply, a single drop of rain touched his forehead and it felt good.

They went back to the van, back to Manhattan, back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed a little less, collapsed on their separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom lights left on, turned to face each other again. They said nothing. There was a constant hum from somewhere outside the motel, in the neighborhood, that lulled them to sleep. Argyle thought he heard Jonathan call for him but when he opened his eyes again Jonathan was snoring lightly. Argyle smiled at the view and fell back to unconsciousness.

Clouds were back the next day.

They checked out of the motel, Jonathan took the seat behind the wheel, headed back to I-95 again and hit the pedal hard. They drove for about half the time as they did from Hawkins to New York, never leaving the I-95, looking through the windows as they drove past New Haven, Providence, Boston, plus some stupidly small and completely forgettable towns in Maine.

They only left the I-95 when they passed the border, when the Highway didn’t exist anymore.

“Will they know we have weed?” Argyle asked as they were growing closer to the customs. They only had a single joint left, but it was worrying anyway.

“Don’t think they’ll check,” Jonathan answered, and he didn’t seem bothered at all.

Argyle doubted they would be able to cross, he didn’t even have a passport, but Jonathan was thankfully right. The guard asked for their drivers’ licenses only, where they were headed and what they were doing —  Jonathan said they were on a roadtrip. When the guard asked how long they were planning on staying, Jonathan said “enough days to see a bit of the three east provinces”, and that’s when Argyle was sure the guard would tell them to turn around and get the fuck out, back to bumfuck-nowhere, Indiana. But he just nodded as he inspected the photos on their documents, and when he handed them back along with a pocket-sized canadian atlas he said: “Have fun.”

And that was it.

Argyle’s shoulders dropped from where they had situated above his ears as Jonathan waited until the customs couldn’t be seen from the windows anymore so he could hit the pedal hard again, this time on what they called the Trans-Canada Highway (information provided by the pocket-size atlas gifted to them by a random and kind government employee).

Jonathan drove for about an hour and a half after they crossed, and Argyle’s sudden drop of adrenaline made him doze off for a while before he woke up as Jonathan was parking at a motel. He looked around, saw some signs, picked up the pocket-size atlas from where it had fallen off to the floor of the van.

“You wanna stay in…” he checked the atlas, “Fredericton, New Brunswick? This was your destination all along?” he asked with a grin.

Jonathan chuckled. “I’m just tired for today. But I wanna keep going, actually. If that’s okay?” his eyes were suddenly filled with doubt, and oh no, Argyle couldn’t have that.

“Absolutely, my man. Point where and I’m headed right behind ‘ya,” he was smiling, and his tone was light-hearted, but he was being the most honest he ever was.

Jonathan seemed to get it, because he was looking back at him with that reserved soft smile of his and Argyle’s brain went a little fuzzy, but it was probably from the nap he took.

They went inside the motel, finally, got their bedroom with two beds, separated by nothing but a few inches, and Argyle’s first instinct was to actually bring them together so they’d be just one big bed, but he restrained. They took showers, didn’t really scrub a lot, collapsed on their barely separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom light left off, turned to face each other. Argyle fell asleep with a smile on his face, and if he didn’t dream it, Jonathan had one of his own on his lips.

Next day was more than cloudy, it was pouring rain again.

Jonathan sat behind the steering wheel once more, hit the pedal and they headed east east east, so far east that Argyle feared for a second that they were going to reach the border of the world or something. They crossed New Brunswick and almost reached Nova Scotia, but then Jonathan took a sharp turn north.

“An island, man?” Argyle asked as they crossed the bridge to Prince Edward. Jonathan just shrugged, but he was smiling wider than Argyle had ever seen him smile before. Not bothered at all. It was a good sight to see.

The capital city was on the southeast, but Jonathan kept going north again. It seemed like they were almost at the end of the island before he finally stopped, at some stupidly small and completely forgettable town.

“This place has probably half of the citizens of Hawkins,” Argyle noted.

“I need a phone,” Jonathan said.

His smile didn’t falter.

They found the single Bed & Breakfast the town had to offer, asked for a bedroom — it only had one bed, they didn’t mind and neither did the young lady in charge —, they asked to use their phone, “How much is a phone call to Indiana, you think?” Jonathan asked Argyle, smile turning into a wicked grin and Argyle had definitely never seen that, so the only answer he could come up with was a loud laugh.

Jonathan dialed.

Argyle saw the lady had a bong on her table, so he lit up their final joint.

They waited for the phone to be answered.

Jonathan’s eyes never left Argyle’s, and their wide smiles were like mirrors of each other. Argyle had no idea what Jonathan was up to, clearly no good, but Argyle was down to it anyway. He’d follow Jonathan in whatever disturbed plan he had, to whatever edge of the world he wanted to go to.

And, finally:

“Hop, hey, it’s Jon. I’m in Canada. Yeah, you heard it right, Canada. Do you think Owens’ FBI friends can do us a final favor?”

⟿

Argyle looks out the window.

In the reflex, he sees Jonathan, his head on Argyle’s shoulder, and he’s also looking out the window. It’s been like this for a few months now, just the two of them, in tandem, doing the same things. Synchronized. It feels good, the best he ever felt. Jonathan’s skin is warm against Argyle where their arms touch, and he smiles without even thinking about it. It’s been like this for a few months now, smiling around just at the thought or sight of Jonathan. It feels good. The best he ever felt about someone.

“I’m really glad we did this,” Jonathan mumbles against Argyle’s shoulder.

This: a trip along the coast to a different country? This: bribing the government for a new beginning in a town so small and forgettable that no monster, human or not, could find them again? This: getting a house of their own, a fucking boat and a fishing license, a truck they could drive down to Charlottetown on good days?

This: falling in love in the process?

Argyle’s not sure what Jonathan is referring to. He’s really glad too, either way.

Argyle looks at their small world out the window.

It’s Sunday morning, commerce is all closed, streets are empty. The sun is covered by clouds, a summer thunderstorm approaching, and he can see the sea from here. There’s no one at the beach. The waves look nice. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contains.

It’s not too much. It’s nothing at all, actually, and it’s everything.

And it’s perfect that way.