#Claudia made Dustin's a little cap

[sarcasticassian]

Eddie finds out Steve loves "the teddy bears" from Star Wars so he buys him an Ewok stuffed toy he sees in a random shop one day and Steve loves it, he was so excited when he realised what it was and he calls it Teddy, named after Eddie but also because its a teddy bear and Eddie is feeling pleased with himself until they're round at Steve's and Dustin finds it

Eddie thinks Dustin is about to make fun of Steve but instead he kicks up a fuss that he introduced Steve to the Ewoks and he loves them just as much as Steve does and Eddie can see Steve reluctantly gearing up to offer Teddy to Dustin so Eddie swoops in and says he'll get one for Dustin too

Robin happens to be around when Eddie manages to hand one over to Dustin and she sees Dustin squeeze his to his chest and Steve had brought Teddy down to the living room because they were all going to watch Star Wars together and she half joking demands to know where hers is so Eddie sighs and agrees to head back to the store tomorrow

He hands over Robin's stuffed Ewok and before Erica can even open her mouth to complain about how the rest of the Scoops Troop has their own Ewoks so where's hers Eddie presents one to her and announces that nobody else will be getting one because his wallet is empty so they are a Scoops Troop exclusive

whenever they hang out as a group at Steve's or Eddie's their Ewoks sit in a little line all together and they had to get little accessories so they always knew who's was who's after Robin accidentally took Teddy one day and Steve nearly had a meltdown

[somnambulic-thing]

Found family fluff with Eddie and Wayne, you said? This is for @storiesbyrhi <3 1.8k, fluffy stuff ahead | Eddie & Wayne, Eddie & Dustin, Eddie & Mews, Wayne/Claudia Henderson [Or: The Hendermunsons, like I call them.] didn't really read it back, very likely very messy

It’s 86, baby, and Eddie snatches his diploma, flips off most of Hawkins High and storms off the stage. Wayne is already up and on his way to meet his boy, well aware of the plan Eddie had made way back when he had failed his first Senior year, and Wayne wasn’t going to spoil the fun for his kid. In his opinion, Principal Higgins got off easy with just a middle finger.

Out in the parking lot, Wayne pulls Eddie into a firm hug, tells him he’s proud, so proud, pats his shoulders a little too hard, maybe, but he really is proud and when he holds Eddie by his outstretched arms, both men look a little teary.

“You ready for the next adventure, kid?”

Eddie’s grin could split the pavement. “Hell yeah, Wayne. You’ve no idea.”

Wayne walks to the driver’s side of his car and smiles a decent smile himself. “I raised ya, Ed. I think I got an inkling about that.”

Later that day, the two Munsons knock at the Hendersons door and are greeted with cheers and kisses; Eddie to both cheeks, Wayne to the mouth. Claudia is excited, has made every little treat she knows Eddie loves and there is enough food to feed eight people instead of four.

“How are you feeling, Eddie?” Claudia asks, cheeks pink, eyes a little teary. “Excited?”

“I’m good, I’m good. You can’t bawl on me before dinner though, I need some sustenance before that.”

She cups his cheeks and gives him a little pat, smiling up at him. “Of course. Dusty is in his room, go say hello while your uncle and I get everything ready.”

Dustin’s door is ajar and Eddie knocks against the doorframe, giving him no real time to respond before entering. “Ohhh Duuuusty-buuun,” he croons and is met with a massive eye-roll and an annoyed stare which holds for five full seconds before he breaks out into a big fat grin.

“There he is, Eddie the Graduate!” Dustin bows down low, his think cap slipping off his curly head. “Most metal departure ever! Even Nancy cheered!”

Eddie snatches the cap from the floor before Dustin can, puts it on and flops down on the bed, arms spread out. “Man,” he sighs, “I still can’t believe that I finally made it.”

The mattress dips a little as Dustin sits down and the silly giggle Eddie considers home by now fills him with a weird kind of warmth that toes the line between comfort and anxiety.

“Yeah, dude, non of us can really believe it,” Dustin says and Eddie pulls up his brows until they almost hit the visor of the cap.

“Rude?”

Dustin’s eyes go wide, “No, no, no! That’s not what I mean!”

“What do you mean?”

“That… well, that we’re going to miss you, man.” Dustin rubs the back of his head and mumbles, “that I’m going to miss you… you know… you’re like the big brother I always wanted… and Hawkins won’t be the same without you now…”

“Uhh, fuck,” Eddie groans and presses his palms to his eyes. “The Hendersons and their tear-jerking properties.”

He sits up, sees the slight pout on Dustin’s face and puts and arm around his shoulder, ruffling through his curls, swallowing a small lump before he speaks again. “I’ll visit, as much as I can, okay?”

“Yeah, of course, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, man…”

“You better use your time wisely, I want to test out your DM qualities the first time I’m back.”

“What?” Dustin looks shocked, and starts to stammer. “I… no… that’s… weird, no Eddie, no, I… I… horrible idea… could never…”

Eddie laughs and pulls his arm around Dustin’s shoulder a little tighter. “Speak after me: I, Dustin Henderson…”

“I, Dustin Henderson…”

“…will be a great Dungeon Master!”

“…will be a great Dungeon Master!”

“Good,” Eddie smirks and pokes the tip of his tongue out his mouth. “It’s okay to not be as formidable as I am, kiddo, it’s hard to keep up with the divine…”

“Ass,” Dustin mutters, shoving Eddie slightly but they both chuckle softly.

“But no, hey, really… Don’t try to do what I did. You do your own thing and it will be great.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie says and slumps back to the mattress again. “Would never have bullied you into taking over Hellfire if I wasn’t. M’ actually pretty fucking relieved to know it will be in good hands… don’t tell Wheeler, but I was considering failing another year when he declared his interest in taking over…”

“Man, would I be pissed after all those hours tutoring your antsy ass,” Dustin laughs and nudges Eddie’s knee with his own. “Your secret is safe with me.”

A soft knock on the door, then Wayne’s face appears in the doorframe. “You boys hungry?”

“Starving,” they say in unison and hop off the bed.

As they make their way into the kitchen Eddie remembers the first time he walked into the Hendersons house about a year ago on a mission to teach Dustin everything he knew about being a Dungeon Master. It had been like the house wanted him here, like it tried to persuade him that this was a place he needed to come back to, like the secrets on how to go on with his life that he sometimes was so weary of lay here in this humble one-story home.

It didn’t take long for Dustin to notice a pattern in the way Eddie did certain things. The kid started asking all kinds of weird questions about how Eddie went about his assignments at school and after he’d reluctantly answered all the very uncomfortable stuff, he could see a light bulb turn on and explode over Dustin’s head. Turned out that Dustin spent his summers at science camp with a lot of kids in need of alternative ways of learning and that over the years, Dustin had picked up on a few tricks himself. Tricks that worked wonders with Eddie. Soon, Dustin declared Eddie a fucking brain that just needed some directions from someone who was willing to be patient enough to show them to him.

Meeting Dustin hadn’t only changed Eddie’s life but also the life of his uncle and Eddie was proud of that. Proud that something he did ultimately lead to Wayne being as happy as Eddie had ever seen him.

Eddie had spent so much time at the Hendersons that Claudia one day told him to invite Wayne for dinner so that Eddie wouldn’t have to leave early to catch Wayne before his night shifts started. There had been nothing to prepare Eddie for how much of a flirt his uncle could be. Claudia had not stood a chance.

“Uhn, hey, Dustin?” he asks before they make it to the dark wood table Eddie was so familiar with by now and Dustin turns around, eyebrows high and waiting.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll miss you too, little brother.” Dustin’s eyes are huge, his lower lip slightly quivering and before he can speak, Eddie pulls him into a hug. “I owe you so much, dude. If you ever need anything you call me and I’m here as fast as I can, you hear me?”

“Uh-hn,” Dustin gulps against Eddie’s shoulder. “I will.”

“Good,” he releases Dustin, holds him by his shoulders and smiles. “Good.”

“Same goes for you, by the way,” he says a little shaky, reaching up to pluck his cap from Eddie’s head but Eddie evades him by leaning back.

“I’m keeping that.”

“What? Why? It’s my favourite!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and walks past Dustin towards the table where Wayne and Claudia are waiting, faces soft from what they surely just have witnessed. “Because it looks much better on me—“

“Asshole,” Dustin half laughs half grumbles, plopping down on his chair.

“Dusty!” Claudia says in shock while Wayne grins behind his hand. “Apologize to Eddie.”

“Nah! I kinda deserved it…” Eddie grins and looks around the room, “Where is Mews? He didn’t even say hello.”

“Oh,” Claudia stands up and hurries to open the porch doors. “Meeeewsieee!… He just went out for a walk right before you got here… Meeeeews… Eddie… come try it yourself, will you?”

Eddie joins Claudia at the door, puts his hands around his mouth and calls for the cat. “Oh, Meeeeews, where are youuuu?”

“MEOW!”

“I don’t believe it,” Claudia chuckles, strokes Eddie’s shoulder and walks back to the table as Eddie squats down, waiting, until Mews rushes out of an elder bush and right into his arms. He picks him up, scratching the special spot between his ears, the ginger fur soft between his fingertips.

“Hey buddy.” Eddie puts a kiss on Mews forehead and moves to sit down.

“Can we start eatin’ now?” Wayne says, eyeing the food impatiently. “I’m starving.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie waits for Mews to find the best position on his lap. “Go ahead, you don’t have to wait for me. You know I have no table manners…”

“That may be, but I wanted to make a toast and I’d like for you to pay attention when I’m doin’ it, Ed.”

“A toast?” Eddie frowns.

“It’s a custom occurring during gatherings of people to honour something or someon— ouch,” Dustin shrieks, pulling up his leg to rub at his shin.

“Sorry,” Eddie winces, “wasn’t meant to be that hard.”

“Meow!”

Dustin laughs in disbelief. “Good thing you’re gone soon—“

“Meow?”

“You had to be a smartass, Dusty—“

“Well, you had to be a dumbass—“

“Boys!”

“Sorry Wayne,” they say in unison again, then fall quiet.

There is a smirk lingering somewhere around Wayne’s eyes, breaking out fully as he clears his throat and lifts his glass.

“This is to Eddie, my boy, who will leave Hawkins soon to bring chaos to Indianapolis and who hopefully won’t electrocute himself at his new job with that fancy guitar manufacturer because no matter what a menace he can be; I’m proud of him, always will be proud of him… and I love you, son. Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Meow!”

“Uhm, shit, uhm, thank you..” A stray tear runs down Eddie’s cheek and he lets it. Mews paws press against his stomach and he figures it doesn’t matter that he’s too overwhelmed to say something half as meaningful because they all knew it was there, somewhere inside him. “I… thank you… like… all of you. Truly.”

“Alright, my boys,” Claudia says, with a thick voice. “Let’s eat—“

“Not quite yet,” Wayne says and turns in his seat, glass raised once more. “And this is to my beautiful Claudia and to Dustin, who are willing to take an old man like me in and share their home with him. I’m one lucky bastard.”

“Cheers,” Eddie and Dustin laugh out, smiles splitting their faces while Claudia, cheeks flushed pink, presses a hearty kiss to Wayne’s cheekbone.

“You’re very welcome.”

“Yeah,” Dustin says, starting to load food onto his plate. “You’re welcome.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

it led me to you

chapter 4: senior year also on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

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Senior year should be an exciting time, and for Steve, it was.

Eddie was trying.

It was hard to be thrilled about repeating a year of school, even if it did mean spending the year in a lot of the same classes as most of his friends.

Including and especially Steve.

They worked together when they could, any assignment requiring a partner had them rushing to each other’s desks, mischievous smiles on their faces.

Steve wasn’t always good at understanding instructions, but Eddie did. Eddie wasn’t very good at executing on ideas, but Steve was.

They were the dream team.

At this rate, there was no way Eddie wouldn’t graduate.

- - - - - - - -

Shortly after Eddie’s 18th birthday, shit started to hit the fan.

Well, shit had been hitting the fan, but it hadn’t previously involved Eddie or anyone he knew.

Weird shit happened in Hawkins, and no one could ever give real reasons behind it. The government certainly made an attempt, but if there was one thing Wayne taught him, it’s to never trust a government.

Whatever happened with Will Byers wasn’t his business, even though Jonathan seemed like a cool guy, if a little shy.

It seemed like it got resolved anyway.

But weird shit kept happening.

Steve started babysitting a kid who was best friends with Will. His name was Dustin, and he had an attitude and maybe more intelligence than most of Hawkins combined.

And he was hiding something.

“I don’t even know what it could be. His mom thinks I’m just paranoid, but I keep hearing sounds from his closet!”

“You sure it isn’t their cat getting stuck in there?”

Eddie had been listening to Steve go on and on about Dustin for a while now, not that he minded; He loved listening to Steve talk about anything, especially something he enjoyed.

“Their cat hides under Claudia’s bed the entire time I’m there. This is something alive in his closet that shouldn’t be there. I keep trying to figure out when I could get in there to see what it is, but he’s suddenly very protective of his clothes. He wears Weird Al shirts, I don’t think he needs to be worried about me stealing his clothes.”

“Well, maybe he’s just hiding a secret pet from his mom. Like a snake or something she doesn’t want in the house. Maybe he’s scared you’ll tell her about it if you know,” Eddie suggested.

“Maybe.”

Steve dropped it finally, but Eddie knew this wasn’t actually the end of the story for him. He was too convinced Dustin was hiding something.

- - - - - - - - - -

Steve continued to wonder for months, but started to let it go when the noises stopped happening.

Dustin seemed upset about something, but he didn’t push, figured it was all related to the noise disappearing and figured now wasn’t a good time to push.

But as Steve started babysitting more in the afternoons and evenings, Eddie lost his study partner.

It showed.

His grades fell rapidly. They weren’t exactly perfect before, but they were all passing.

After spring break, the guidance counselor pulled him into her office and explained that if he didn’t pull his math, gym, and science grades up, he wouldn’t graduate.

Again.

He couldn’t tell Steve, not when Steve was talking about ordering his cap and gown like the rest of their friends. The only two left were Gareth and Jeff, both juniors, and both honor roll students who wouldn’t have to worry about graduation when it was their time.

Steve dropped down to one sport, basketball, because his babysitting duties had become his priority.

His father had been insistent that he have a part-time job and this was really the best he could do until he graduated.

He hadn’t talked about college, but Eddie knew he worked with Nancy on applications before spring break.

Things were going great for Steve, better than either of them had expected or could have hoped for.

So why was Eddie so fucking depressed?

- - - - - - - - - -

Wayne noticed, of course.

Despite the fact that Eddie was doing his best, and turning in most of his work when he remembered, his work was “below average” and often “late.” He tried explaining that it was just hard for him to remember due dates, but the teachers said he needed to just write them down.

Never mind the fact that he often did write them down, he just usually lost the paper or didn’t remember to look at it until it was too late.

So graduation wasn’t looking likely at this point for him, and he was trying to accept that maybe it would never be likely for him.

“You wanna talk about anything, son?” Wayne asked over dinner, Steve missing for the fourth day in a row because of babysitting.

Eddie should tell him, he really should let him know if he’s gonna be watching Steve walk alone or if both of his boys will be getting their diplomas.

“Nope. All good here.”

Wayne’s brows furrowed as he watched Eddie force another bite into his mouth too quickly.

“Uh huh. You ready for graduation?”

Damn, he was good.

“I’m trying to be.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Just not sure it’s gonna happen this year.”

Wayne set his fork down on his plate, his eyes burning a hole into Eddie’s profile.

“I thought you were doin’ good this time, Ed.”

He didn’t sound mad or disappointed, more worried than anything. Rightfully so, since failing again would mean he’d be alone for his third senior year.

“I was.”

“What happened?”

“Lost my study partner. Started forgetting assignments and test dates. Forgot my gym clothes a few times so I couldn’t participate,” Eddie shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal. No amount of downplaying would change that, for him or for Wayne.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Only a couple weeks ‘til graduation and you ain’t asked for help. We coulda helped you out.”

“Steve’s busy. You’re busy. Don’t need to bother anyone with my problems.”

It was a lame excuse, one he knew wouldn’t work with Wayne or Steve if he tried it with him, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

Couldn’t admit that he didn’t think he could graduate at all, even with the help.

Wayne sighed, but patted his arm.

“You’ll get ‘em next year, then.”

“Yeah. Next year.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Steve finally noticed about two weeks before graduation.

He noticed how Eddie didn’t join in on discussing plans, how he didn’t talk about getting a class ring or the cap and gown, how he didn’t even seem to know when graduation was.

Eddie tried not to be bitter; It was his own fault anyway.

But the way Steve was shooting him pitying looks as everyone else talked about their summer plans and college plans and job plans was making it worse.

He cornered Eddie after school, usually in a rush to get to practice, but the season ended last week and he didn’t have any more responsibilities until tonight.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you aren’t graduating!”

Eddie flinched at Steve’s volume, his sudden anger making him wish he reacted more like Wayne did.

“It wasn’t important.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t important? Eds, we’ve worked so hard for this all year.”

“Yeah until you got busy. I tried to fend for myself and I failed. So. I’ll be there to cheer for you, but I won’t be walking across the stage.”

God, he hoped Steve would just drop it.

“What do you mean? I’m never too busy for you.”

It was a nice sentiment, if completely untrue. Maybe Steve believed he was never too busy for him, but the facts were that his schedule was filled and hardly ever with Eddie for the last few months.

“Steve, it’s fine. Just drop it.”

“Steve? Since when am I Steve to you?”

“Since I’ve barely spent any time with you! You were too busy for the last two Hellfire campaigns, and you didn’t ask me to go to any of your games, and you barely come to the trailer anymore for dinner. Wayne thought I did something to piss you off because you never showed up anymore. The guys started asking me if you found a girlfriend since you stopped coming to band practice. And I had to tell them that I didn’t know, because I don’t! I have no idea what’s going on in your life other than that you’re graduating. I know you’re busy and I’m not expecting to be a priority, but I figured you could at least find some time during the week to check in. I knew I wasn’t graduating since spring break and you just now realized it. That should tell you everything.”

Eddie felt like he was going to puke.

He never thought he’d be saying this kind of stuff to Steve, never thought their friendship would be anything less than perfect.

He never thought he would be watching Steve graduate while he had to return to another senior year.

Steve looked like he was going to cry, but Eddie felt like he was going to cry.

“I didn’t know it was hurting you so much.”

For some reason, that pissed Eddie off even more.

“You didn’t know it hurt me to know that my best friend had more important things to do than hang out with me?”

“No! I just-“

“Forget it. Wayne has a celebration dinner planned for you for the day after graduation, so I guess I’ll see you then.”

“No, Eddie, wait!”

Eddie ignored him, walking as quickly as he could towards his van.

Steve could easily catch up, he was much more in shape than Eddie was, but he didn’t.

And that spoke volumes to Eddie.

- - - - - - - - -

Somehow, he didn’t manage to run into Steve outside of the classes they shared for the rest of the school year.

He knew he was avoiding him on purpose, but figured Steve must be avoiding him too or they would have run into each other.

He also knew that he’d been talking to Wayne still, which was fine.

He wasn’t a total asshole; He knew Wayne meant a lot to Steve beyond his friendship with Eddie.

Or ex-friendship?

Who knows.

He knows he misses Steve like he’s lost a limb, knows that he’s breaking his own heart by overreacting and could easily reach out and apologize and have a serious, adult discussion.

But he also knows that he’s just putting off being more severely damaged when Steve inevitably leaves Hawkins after graduation.

Or, maybe worse, ends up finding a nice girl he falls in love with, marries, has kids with, and stays right here where Eddie has to watch it all happen like it isn’t completely destroying him.

Would probably even have to be his best man, maybe even his kids’ godfather as if he has any relationship with God at all.

Wayne hasn’t pushed, not beyond a basic “I wish you’d just talk to the boy.”

And Eddie wishes the same.

He really does.

But he knows what his heart can take and he’s already pushed it past its limits, so he waits it out.

He waits it out until the day of graduation.

Wayne got off early to attend the ceremony, had promised Steve at the beginning of the year he wouldn’t miss it, just like he’d promised Eddie.

He was changing into his nicer clothes (jeans without stains and a button down plaid shirt that he only wore for special occasions) when Eddie walked by his room.

Eddie wasn’t planning on wearing anything special, figured he didn’t need to since he wasn’t walking the stage.

No one would need pictures for memories of him.

“You look nice,” he said to Wayne, avoiding eye contact so he wouldn’t have to have the discussion he knew was coming.

He just wanted to put it off a little bit longer.

“You look…like you always do,” Wayne said back, not trying to offend, more confused than anything. “You are going, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Just didn’t think I needed to dress up.”

“Well, I assume you’ll be in a picture with Steve.”

“If Steve wants, yeah.”

Wayne shook his head.

“You two are gonna be the death of me. Go change your shirt. Wear something nicer than a band shirt with holes in it, please.”

Eddie listened even though he kind of didn’t want to bother.

He wanted to support Steve, he’d never not want to, but this felt too much like a goodbye for him to be excited about it.

The ride to the ceremony was sullen, Eddie’s mood bringing down the proud energy Wayne had been feeling.

He didn’t want that, he didn’t want to make this about him.

He didn’t want Steve to leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth, didn’t want Steve to know that Eddie was only doing this to protect himself.

When they parked the truck, Eddie stared at all the people walking to the gym, some in their gowns already, some carrying them.

He should be there.

He fucked up. Again.

He bit his lip as he unbuckled.

Wayne’s hand was suddenly on his, squeezing it to get his attention.

“Hey, I’m proud of you still. You know that?”

“Don’t know why.”

Eddie was not going to make it through this without crying, without turning into a sobbing mess, without showing every emotion he felt in a way he had been trying so hard to hide.

“Because you keep tryin’. And I know it’s hard and you’re hurtin’ for a lotta reasons right now. It’ll work out though, okay? You and Steve are different.”

Eddie’s eyes watered.

“I don’t think it matters, though. Not now.”

“We’ll see. You both are just bein’ dumb boys, but it’ll fix itself.”

Wayne got out of the truck before Eddie could add anything to it, probably knew he’d try to argue and didn’t want to do that here and now.

They walked to the gym, the expected storm keeping them inside instead of on the football field like usual.

The gym was packed, of course, with families and friends of the graduates, teachers and staff from every school in the district, and other students who were watching their friends leave before them.

Eddie decided to stand by the door, didn’t want to take a seat from someone who needed it when he was just here for Steve and his other friends anyway.

Wayne found a spot not too far from where Eddie stood, probably trying to keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t run for it the moment he could.

He wouldn’t do that, couldn’t really since he rode with Wayne here. Another tactic he was certain was on purpose.

The ceremony went fine.

He managed to stay hidden enough that no one who looked back at him noticed him, or at least didn’t act like they did.

He clapped for all his friends, nothing like his usual exuberant self.

When they got to Steve, he felt those damn tears back in his eyes.

Wayne was right: he was hurting for so many different reasons today.

He was hurting because he was jealous and didn’t want to be. He was hurting because things with Steve had been weird for a while and then he made it worse right when he shouldn’t have. He was hurting because he knew that breaking his heart himself would be better than Steve breaking it.

He clapped, he cheered, he held back the tears threatening to fall as Steve looked out at the crowd, searching for someone.

He gave a wave, and when Eddie looked over, he saw it was towards Wayne.

But when he looked back at Steve on the stage, he was frowning. He looked disappointed.

Eddie didn’t want to think about why, couldn’t let himself imagine that it was because he didn’t see him next to Wayne.

After Steve took his seat again, Eddie walked out of the gym through the propped open door, finally letting the tears fall as he put distance between himself and the graduating class he should have been a part of.

- - - - - - - - - -

The driver’s side door to the truck opened, but Eddie didn’t look up, just hoped Wayne would drive them home in silence and not ask questions about the endless sniffling.

But the truck didn’t start, and Eddie couldn’t sit here for much longer, not with the way the gym was quickly emptying into the parking lot and beyond.

“I’m glad you came.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s voice, trying to figure out if he could get away with wiping his tears away subtly or if he would just have to turn away completely and hope Steve left.

“Um, sorry to just kind of barge in, but Wayne said it was okay.”

“Did he?”

God, his voice sounded like he’d been crying all day.

He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, could feel the way he was thinking of what to say carefully, like he was afraid to upset him further.

“I think he just wants us to talk.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh, startling them both into looking at each other.

Steve’s face instantly fell when he saw what Eddie was certain was a mess of tears and snot and red cheeks.

“Eds…”

“It’s fine. Sorry. Um. I watched you walk, I promise,” Eddie said as he looked back down at his lap, hoped Steve would leave the truck or Wayne would appear and rescue him.

“Eds, I don’t care about that, I’m just worried about you,” Steve started to reach a hand towards him, he could see it out of the corner of his eye.

He also saw him hesitate and pull his hand back quickly, silently regretting the attempt at comfort.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I’m not fine. We aren’t fine. And I think Wayne probably wants us to fix it, or he thinks maybe I have to try first. I dunno. I just know that I see you hurting and I want to make it stop, I need to make it stop. I need to know how to make it better,” Steve begged, his hand finally resting on Eddie’s leg.

Eddie watched as Steve’s fingers curled into his thigh, his fingertips practically bruising him.

“Please, Eddie. I just want to make it okay again.”

Eddie let out another sob, unable to hold back anymore.

He fell against Steve’s shoulder, crying harder when Steve wrapped his arms around him.

Over the last year, Steve had grown to be almost the same height as Eddie, but up until he stopped sleeping over, he’d loved being the little spoon at night, loved leaning into Eddie’s side or curling up in his lap when they watched movies on the couch.

This was different, but welcome, and after so long without being close to him, Eddie wanted to soak in the feeling of Steve holding him.

He’d missed him so much.

He’d miss him even more.

“Help me understand. Please.”

“I just got scared. You get to move on now. You get to make a future and I get to stay here for at least another year while I try my best to do the bare minimum.”

“That’s-“

“No, wait. I’m scared that it’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“Everything. We had so much and I never had anyone like you and I don’t know if I will ever find anyone else like you and when you leave, it’s-“

“Okay, wait.” Steve pushed him away and looked at him, his eyes sad. “Who said anything about me leaving?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You can go to college or find a girl or something.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Steve shook his head.

His voice sounded so sure, so final.

“But you should, Stevie. You can’t stay here just because I’m here.”

“It’s not just because you’re here. It’s because anytime I’ve thought of the future, it’s had you in it. And maybe that means sticking around here another year, and then maybe both of us stick around longer even when we don’t have to, or maybe we both go to college somewhere, or maybe we just go find an apartment in another city or state or, I dunno, country! I’m not going anywhere that you can’t come with me.”

It was exactly what Eddie wanted to hear, what he needed to hear, but he couldn’t process it. His brain was finding it near impossible to comprehend what Steve was actually saying to him.

“You aren’t going to college in the fall?”

“I am. I’m going to the community college. I don’t know what I wanna do yet, and Nancy suggested taking a few different classes there to figure it out before I apply to a university.”

Eddie felt…dumb wasn’t the right word.

He was trying to be a little kinder with himself about the intelligence thing. He knew he was smart, at least smart enough to keep up with the average person, so he was trying to teach himself to say something other than dumb when he wasn’t thinking clearly.

He felt clueless.

He felt like someone pulled the rug out from under him and then there was a second rug that was also pulled out from under him.

It was layer upon layer of shock and relief.

And he spent too long acting like a complete idiot to just keep sitting here without apologizing.

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I should have talked to you sooner.”

“Yeah, probably,” Steve said as he nudged Eddie’s shoulder playfully. “The second you started getting worried and falling behind at school you should have said something. Can’t believe you hid it from Wayne for so long, too.”

That feeling in his chest, the pit in his stomach, that was shame.

He’d already felt guilty about not saying anything to Wayne for a while, not saying anything to Steve, not being a good nephew or friend.

But hearing Steve stick up for Wayne, and in a way that wasn’t meant to actually make him feel bad, made his guilt exponentially worse.

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I’d talked to you.”

“I wish you had too.” Steve pulled him into a hug. “Now, my parents aren’t here, and Wayne mentioned something about taking you for ice cream.”

“Me? But you’re the one who graduated.”

“Well, I think his plan was to keep you feeling alright so. Ice cream.”

Eddie let out a real laugh, his first one in a while, and relaxed fully into Steve’s side.

“Ice cream sounds good.”

“We could go to Scoops Ahoy. I got a summer job there!”

“Is Scoops the place with the-“

“Sailor uniforms? Yes.”

Eddie barely held back from saying something that would probably ruin their friendship.

But those uniforms.

Steve in that uniform would be the death of him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Things didn’t go completely back to normal; even with Wayne as a buffer, the trip to get ice cream had some awkward moments.

Steve got quiet a few times, staring off into space.

No one commented on it, even though it killed Eddie not to say something.

He knew it might take time to get back to something resembling what they had before, but he hoped it didn’t stay like this for long.

Wayne did keep things moving the best he could, though. Eddie knew he was trying, and he knew Steve could tell he was trying.

“So, Steve, how’s Dustin?”

Steve lit up instantly.

“He’s great! Excited for high school next year. Probably more nervous than he’ll admit though. I think he’s upset because Will and El are moving.”

Eddie perked up at this.

Dustin and his friends played D&D, and from what he remembered, Will had been there DM. If he was moving, they’d probably be looking for a new one if none of them wanted to fill in.

“Are they all starting high school?”

“Yeah, why?”

Steve looked at him curiously.

“It’s just that half of Hellfire is gone now, so I’ll need people. Maybe they could join.”

Steve started bouncing in his seat, his golden retriever energy unstoppable when he started getting excited.

“You think so? They would love that! Oh man, Dustin would probably be a pain in the ass, but in a good way. He’s kind of annoying, but mostly because he’s just so smart, ya know? And he’s gonna think you’re so cool, I talk about you all the time anyway, so he already knows a lot about you. And I know he’s mentioned you being a DM to everyone else before because Will said he hoped he got to meet you and pick your brain about stuff. I wish he didn’t have to move, he could probably take over for you next year when you graduate.”

“Son, take a breath,” Wayne said fondly.

He always said that the excited Steve ramble was a learned problem from Eddie.

He called it a problem, but he thought it was amusing and loved watching Steve get excited, so it couldn’t be much of one to him.

Steve took a breath, smiling at Wayne, comfortable.

Eddie had missed him so much.

“Maybe I can meet up with them this summer sometime and see if they’re interested?”

“Yes! I can call Dustin and see when he gets back from camp. He’ll be so excited.”

Eddie was too, but for more than just the potential new Hellfire kids. He was excited to have Steve back, to know he was sticking around, at least for a while.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

He visited Steve nearly every day at work, much to his coworker’s amusement and annoyance.

Robin was currently glaring at them from her spot on the counter.

Steve was technically on his break, and they were eating snacks at the corner table while Robin was supposedly working.

No customers had come in, and she didn’t seem too fond of the idea of cleaning without help, so she just sat and watched them.

Eddie would probably be more creeped out if he didn’t get a certain vibe from her.

She was glaring like she was jealous, like she was another one of the nerdy band girls who had a huge crush on Steve, despite the fact that Steve had never dated anyone.

Eddie didn’t think about it much, it would drive him crazy if he did, but Steve had never even mentioned liking anyone.

But Robin didn’t really seem like she was into Steve.

In fact, she seemed like she kind of couldn’t stand him, which was entertaining since Steve kind of adored her.

He thought she was hilarious, snarky in all the right ways, and so smart.

“She knows four languages! Like, fluently!” Steve often reminded Eddie during stories about something that happened at work where Robin usually cursed under her breath in another language.

Eddie didn’t have the heart to tell him she was probably calling him names.

“Are you even listening?”

Eddie focused back on Steve, who was chewing a bite of banana.

“Sorry. I’m just concerned about your coworker trying to kill us with her eyes,” Eddie responded.

Steve looked over at Robin, who didn’t even try to hide the glare she was sending their way.

“Oh! She’s mad because they might promote me to manager instead of her. Just told us today.”

“Manager? Already? What bribe did you give them?” Eddie teased.

“Shut up!” Steve slapped his arm, smiling at him.

“Are you two almost done on your lunch date?” Robin yelled from her spot on the counter.

Eddie felt himself blush as he looked up at Steve, who had bright red cheeks and wide eyes.

“Not a date, Robs!” Steve yelled back. “She’s just jealous.”

“Of who? You or me?” Eddie smirked, feeling his blush start to fade as he realized joking was the way to go.

“Who knows. She doesn’t seem to like anyone.”

“I get it,” he nodded.

“Guess I should get back to work. Oh! Dustin is back tomorrow! Do you wanna try to set something up for this weekend?”

Eddie could feel the excitement pouring from Steve. He knew he’d missed Dustin all summer, knew Dustin usually used his phone calls for his mom so Steve only got a letter once a week.

“Isn’t it 4th of July this weekend?”

“Oh. I guess so. Maybe next week then.”

“No, no. It’s not like I’m patriotic. Wayne hates fireworks and usually works to avoid hearing them. We could have a one shot campaign if the kids aren’t busy,” Eddie suggested.

“I’ll check with them,” Steve said as he threw his trash away and made his way behind the counter.

Robin had moved to help a customer, so Eddie felt a little less shame watching Steve walk away.

The uniform did wonders for his legs. And his ass. And his arms. For him.

Eddie shook himself out of it before he got caught. The last thing he needed was Steve realizing he was gawking openly at him, at his body, the way it moved and-

“So, see you tonight?”

“Yep!”

Eddie had to get out of there.

This damn sailor uniform was gonna ruin his secret.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dustin was back.

Eddie had already told himself that he wouldn’t see Steve the day he got back, but he still hoped that maybe he’d call to check in.

He didn’t.

If they hadn’t been still recovering from, well, everything their friendship had been through at the beginning of this year, Eddie would probably not think twice about it.

But the ache was still there, his heart still a little sore over the way they distanced themselves and the way he made it worse by pushing Steve away.

“Son, just call him. I can’t handle more mopin’,” Wayne sighed from his chair.

It was his day off, which should have been helpful for Eddie’s emotions, but it just meant Eddie was pacing and pouting and annoying Wayne while he tried to relax.

“He’s probably with Dustin.”

“You have other friends. Where’s that Gareth fella?”

“The beach with his parents.”

“What about Jeff?”

“The beach with his parents.”

Wayne snapped his fingers while he tried to think of another one of Eddie’s friends.

“That girl!”

“Imogene?”

“Yeah!”

“Beach with her parents.”

“Not enough people took Jaws as a warning,” Wayne mumbled, just as frustrated as Eddie was at the lack of people sticking around for the summer.

Eddie let out a small laugh.

The beach in the summer sounded miserable. The beach anytime sounded kind of miserable. Sand everywhere, water with creatures that want to take a bite or worse, relentless sun, people.

Eddie sighed for the thousandth time.

“Alright, that’s it,” Wayne shut off the tv and stood up, grunting at the effort he didn’t expect to expend today. “We’re goin’ out.”

“Goin’ out where?” Eddie asked, suddenly worried that he wouldn’t be home if Steve tried to call.

“Diner for some lunch and then a drive. Maybe we can go to that record store Evansville, get your mind on somethin’ other than that boy of yours.”

“He isn’t mine, Wayne! That’s half the problem!”

“You can tell me all about it while I’m eatin’ a burger the size of your head. Get in the truck.”

Eddie didn’t argue, knew Wayne was gonna make him get out of the house and the record store did sound appealing.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The day with Wayne was nice.

“We haven’t had a day like that in a while. Kinda nice,” Wayne said as they sat in the truck, watching the sunset at the lake.

They used to do this when he first moved in, back when he only ever worked day shifts so he could make sure to be with Eddie at night. They’d bring a sandwich or pizza or, on better paychecks, burgers from the diner, to eat while they talked about their day.

Eddie wasn’t used to an adult who cared about what he had to say, who liked listening to him talk about nothing and everything.

They didn’t do it as often as he got older, and nearly stopped completely when he got to high school.

He wanted to do this more.

He missed having these moments.

Maybe they could bring Steve sometimes so he could share it with them.

“So,” Wayne started, his voice less relaxed than it had been for most of the day. “You wanna talk about the Steve thing?”

“What thing? I just miss him.”

“Nah, I know that, kid. I meant the being in love with him thing.”

Eddie almost gave himself whiplash with how quickly he turned to look at a smirking Wayne.

“What? You think I don’t see it? Even after everything that happened with you two?”

Eddie laughed with disbelief.

“Don’t know why I’m surprised. You know more about me than I do,” he said as he looked back out the front windshield.

“Which means I know when you’re hurtin’ yourself. You gonna tell him?”

“I can’t. Especially not now. We’re just getting back to how it used to be and if I told him, he’d leave.”

“Why do you think that?”

“No straight guy wants their guy best friend to say he’s in love with him.”

“Has he said he’s straight?”

“No, but I mean, c’mon Wayne. He’d have said by now if he wasn’t.”

“Would he?” Wayne searched his face. “Have you?”

“That’s different.”

“How’s it different?”

Eddie tried to think of an answer.

He couldn’t.

“Way I see it, the boy deserves to know, even if he don’t feel the same. He ain’t gonna leave, and he ain’t gonna treat you different. He may surprise you,” Wayne started the truck up again, his way of giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I just don’t wanna lose him. I’d rather have him like this than not at all,” Eddie practically whispered.

Wayne started backing up, his focus on the road, but his words pointed at Eddie when he spoke.

“You may not have him at all if you keep lettin’ yourself hide your feelings, kiddo.”

Maybe he was right, maybe not. But Eddie knew Steve would find out somehow sometime, and the last thing he needed was to lose him because he hid himself away.

- - - - - - - - - - -

He didn’t hear from Steve the next day either.

He tried not to think much about it.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The morning of the 4th of July, Eddie expected Steve to call or visit or anything.

He didn’t.

Eddie tried not to think much about it, but failed.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Wayne woke Eddie up at nearly midnight, panic on his face and in his voice.

“Was Steve workin’ tonight?”

Eddie blinked his eyes, not awake enough for the questioning.

“I don’t…know. No? Wait, yes.” Eddie rubbed his eyes, looked at the clock and frowned. “Why? Is he here?”

“Get up, put a shirt on.”

“Wait, you should be at work. You always work on the 4th.”

“Get up. Put a shirt on.”

His tone left no room for arguments, and Eddie didn’t like how quickly he was rushing out of the room.

“Did something happen?” Eddie yelled as he got out of bed, grabbing the first shirt he saw on the chair by the door.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn’t like this; He’d never seen Wayne like this. At least when he reacted to Steve’s father hurting him, it was clear what he was feeling: anger and sadness.

This felt like he was trying to push past his emotions to do something.

Eddie knew from experience that wasn’t good.

He decided to stay quiet as he followed Wayne to the truck.

They arrived at the mall, or what was the mall, much too quickly.

Wayne broke every speed limit and a few other laws on the way, but Eddie didn’t say anything about it.

It took him a moment to register where they were, why Wayne was so panicked.

And then he was opening the door and running towards the problem.

Fire and smoke in the air, cops and EMTs surrounding the area, a group of people crowding around the perimeter couldn’t keep him away.

He felt his heart thudding in his chest, a sinking feeling in his gut making him feel like he might collapse.

He couldn’t though, not until he knew for sure.

“Steve!” He yelled, as if anyone would hear him over the chaotic sounds around them.

Wayne was next to him, his arm on his shoulders, slowly guiding him off to the side of the group.

“Excuse me, sir. My son was working here tonight, is there some way I can find out where he is?”

“He a minor?”

“No. 18.”

“Only list I have right now is minors. They’re making rounds again in a few minutes. What’s his name?” The officer asked, pulling out a notepad that already had a handful of names on it.

“Steve Harrington.”

The officer didn’t write down the name. Instead, he looked at Wayne with furrowed brows.

“You gonna write it down?”

“Your name?”

“Wayne Munson.”

“Steve’s your son?”

Eddie could feel Wayne tense next to him, knew where this was going and how much this officer was gonna regret testing Wayne in an emergency situation.

But just when Wayne was about to start arguing, Eddie heard someone calling his name.

“Eddie! Munson! Over here!”

Robin.

She was waving him over to an ambulance that had a few people who worked in the mall standing around, getting checked out by EMTs.

Eddie pulled Wayne over, didn’t even say anything or explain where they were going, just hoped Wayne would actually come with him.

If Robin was here, she would know where Steve was.

“Robin! Where’s Steve?”

“They took him to the hospital already,” she was rushing to say, tears in her eyes that he could tell she was trying incredibly hard not to let fall.

“What happened? Is he okay?” Eddie was shaking, and no amount of comforting touch from Wayne was helping.

“He’s alive, but he was unconscious. I couldn’t wake him up. He’s really hurt,” she sobbed, and Eddie put away all possible jealousy or discomfort with her and pulled her into him for a hug.

It was meant to make her feel better, but it ended up just making them both feel worse.

“Alright, Robin?” Wayne clarified, waiting for her to nod. “Your parents here to bring you home?”

“No, they’re out of town this week on their anniversary trip. Steve was gonna drive me home after our shift,” she cried.

“Alright. I’m Wayne. Eddie’s uncle, Steve’s-“

“Yeah, he’s told me about you.”

Wayne couldn’t help the small, sad smile crossing his face at that. Eddie watched as it sunk in that Steve talked about him, that Steve considered him family just like he considered Steve family.

“Can you take me to the hospital?” she asked nervously, like she thought they’d actually say no.

“As long as you go along with me bein’ Steve’s dad so I can get some answers,” Wayne rushed out, watching as more people started pulling into the parking lot, another ambulance leaving.

“I don’t care if you say you’re my dad at this point. I just wanna make sure he’s okay,” she said, wiping tears from her face, taking a deep breath, putting herself together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Steve Harrington.”

The woman at the front desk just raised her brow.

“Your relation?”

“His father.”

The woman looked him up and down, judgment clear in her eyes.

“You’re Richard Harrington?”

Wayne nodded.

Eddie and Robin were huddled close behind him.

Eddie had taken in her physical appearance on the way here, but chose not to ask questions or make assumptions.

But if she was cleared by EMTs looking like this, he hated to picture what Steve looked like.

“I’m afraid I can’t give any information to you, Mr. Munson. I respect that you’re just trying to make sure he’s okay, but his actual parents will need to give permission.”

“His actual parents are pieces of shit, Susan!”

Robin and Eddie looked at each other, eyes wide.

He didn’t know how much Robin knew, but going off of her reaction, Steve must have at least told her a little about how bad they were.

“I can’t go off of personal opinions, Wayne. You need to calm down before you get kicked out. If they reach his parents, I’ll have them ask if you can be given information.”

Wayne sighed, but Eddie recognized the way his shoulders slumped.

He wasn’t giving up, had no intention of doing so, but he wasn’t about to take out his worry and frustration on this woman, who was just doing her job.

He walked away, guiding Eddie and Robin over to some chairs by the door.

“What now?” Robin asked.

“We wait a bit. Hopper should be by soon I reckon. He’ll get updates and pass it on.”

Wayne slumped in a seat next to Robin, but Eddie remained standing.

“Have a seat, Ed. Probably gonna be a while,” Wayne said quietly.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” he said, ignoring the way Wayne was looking at him knowingly.

Robin didn’t know him well enough to know what he was up to, so she just leaned her head back against the wall behind her and closed her eyes.

“Ed, don’t get into somethin’ you can’t handle,” Wayne pleaded.

“I won’t,” he promised.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The halls were surprisingly empty for a crisis of this magnitude.

Nurses bustled between rooms, but they moved so quickly, and with so much focus, they barely noticed Eddie peeking into rooms as he walked.

Walk with confidence.

That’s how he got through school, that’s how he got through life.

That’s how he would get to Steve.

But Steve wasn’t in the emergency department, or the floor with an OR, which had to be a good sign. His name wasn’t on the white board of the deceased, which was even better.

That meant he could be anywhere, though.

Eddie worked from room to room, finally making his way to the second floor.

The first few rooms were empty, but then there he was.

Steve was in a bed, hooked up to an IV and oxygen, unconscious.

His face was swollen and bruised, worse than anything Eddie had seen, way worse than when his father had punched him.

He wasn’t in his uniform, at least from the waist up, which meant they’d changed him into a hospital gown at some point.

He had cuts and bruises all over his arms and hands, and from what Eddie could see, his wrists were rubbed nearly raw, like he’d been chained or handcuffed to something.

That didn’t make��sense. None of this did.

He fell in the chair close to his bed, holding in the sob he felt building in his throat.

Whatever happened to him was bad, worse than what he’d suspected, and he had a terrible feeling that Robin had witnessed it all.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Eventually, Wayne found them.

Robin wasn’t with him, but he was almost glad for it. The moment Wayne walked into the room, Eddie started crying into his chest.

“’S alright, Ed. He’s okay,” Wayne tried to comfort him, but Eddie could tell he wasn’t sure of the words he was saying, not with the way he was taking in his injuries.

“Hop give you clearance?”

“No. Surprisingly his parents did. Hop, uh, he’s missing. They think he was at the mall when everything happened.”

Eddie pulled away, looking at Wayne’s discouraged face.

“He’s missing?”

Wayne nodded solemnly.

“Eddie?”

They both turned to the bed, watching as Steve tried to adjust himself to see them better.

Before he ended up hurting himself worse, Eddie rushed to his side, reaching out to gently hold his fingers.

“Stevie, are you okay?”

“I’m high.”

Wayne snorted from behind them, and Eddie couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah? You got the good stuff, sweetheart?”

Steve gave him a goofy smile.

“You’re the good stuff, Eds.”

Eddie’s eyes widened before he looked back at Wayne.

Who was smirking at him, like he was enjoying this.

Eddie turned back to Steve, who was moving his head back and forth and humming something.

“You singin’?”

“Mhm,” Steve smiled, letting his one “good” eye settle on Eddie.

Eddie waited for him to keep humming, but was surprised when he started singing. Loudly.

“What did I see? Can I believe? Something was real and not a fantasy!”

Eddie’s jaw dropped as he realized what Steve was attempting to sing. The words weren’t all there, and the rhythm was way off, but…

“Are you serious?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Steve stopped, his mouth audibly snapping shut and a sudden look of fear crossing his face.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, letting himself smile at Steve despite his confusion. His heart was racing in his chest. His mind was racing with thoughts he’d never let himself have before. “Keep singing. I love that song.”

“I know,” Steve whispered. “’S why I’m singin’ it. You’re sad.”

“Not sad, Stevie. Just worried.”

“’Bout what?”

“You.”

“’M fine, silly. Just gonna sing to ya.”

Steve started singing again, skipping the words he didn’t know, so far off key that anyone who didn’t have a lot of musical knowledge wouldn’t even recognize the song.

Eddie listened as he let his mind finally process something.

Steve had been through some kind of hell tonight. Something that would probably have a lot more lasting impacts than just physical injuries.

He’d been knocked out for so long, this may be his first time conscious in hours.

And he’d started singing a song that Eddie didn’t even know he knew for Eddie.

A song that Eddie had spent hours learning on guitar, but hadn’t bothered Steve with because it was metal and he didn’t like metal.

Or did he?

No, he would have said something by now.

Wayne’s hand was on his shoulder, startling him from his thoughts.

“I’m gonna grab some coffee. Want anything?”

Eddie looked up to see Steve asleep again, his fingers limp in Eddie’s grasp.

“Uh. Just some soda maybe. Please.”

Wayne looked at their joined hands on the bed, then back to Eddie.

“You figure it out yet?”

Eddie gulped.

“I think so.”

Chapter 5

TAG LIST: @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @renaissan-vvitch @estrellami-1 @sofadofax @mightbeasleep

[starkstruck27]

I graduated tonight, so here's a tidbit for you in celebration!! 🎓💚

It's Billy's graduation day, and he can feel daggers being stared into him from all sides. He was named Valedictorian (he has no clue how he achieved that), so Nancy Wheeler is glaring from across the stage in the chair reserved for the Saluditorian. His dad was off somewhere in the stands glaring at him, and he was actually surprised he came to see him walk the stage at all. All the kids he beat up or messed with, even if he apologized, were glaring, pissed off that they had to follow his every move to know when to stand and sit on his command. All in all, it seemed like everyone there hated him.

But there was two people that were there rooting for him, even if no one else was. He could still see them, smiling and shouting his name and waving around these embarrassing homemade signs they made to make sure he'd see them. Max was wearing a homemade shirt with a picture of his face printed on it, and it was the least flattering picture ever, from his freshman year where he was mid-sneeze when the flash went off, but he couldn't help but smile when he saw it. Steve was standing next to her and screaming loudly, unashamed of anyone watching him. He had a shirt that said "I ❤ BH", like those stupid tourist t-shirts from New York, only with his initials instead. He was waving around a giant shark plushie that had a little graduation cap sewn on it, the stitching job no doubt having been done by either Joyce Byers or Claudia Henderson.

He didn't know it yet, but both ladies were also in the audience, along with Will, El, Hopper, Dustin, and Lucas, all there to cheer on Billy and Jonathan as they both walked the stage. Mike was sitting somewhere else with his parents and little sister to cheer on Nancy, but his mother eventually let him go off with his friends once Nancy finished giving her speech.

She was the first one to do it, getting the honor of speaking first, followed by the class president and the class historian. Billy was the last one to give his speech, and as the historian sat down, his heart began to race a little as he walked up to the podium. He had his speech written on a few note cards, but he'd been sleep deprived from finals and entirely too nervous when he wrote them, so they were near incomprehensible. So he didn't even bother to get them out, deciding instead to just wing it. He'd bullshitted his way through it anyway. And nothing could be worse than the class president's speech, which the poor kid had stuttered through and barely spoke into the mic at all, so he was impossible to hear. At least Billy would be able to be heard if his speech was awful.

"Friends, family, teachers, staff and guests," he started, trying to keep his tassel out of his face, "You're probably all thinking that I'm feeling so honored to be standing here as the vedictorian of the class of 1986. I know that you probably think that this is the highlight of my high school career. Hell, our saluditorian would probably kill to be standing where I am right now."

At this, a little laughter bubbled up from the crowd, and Billy allowed himself a second to enjoy the way Nancy's face went bright red before he continued.

"But you'd all be wrong. True, I did get here halfway through my junior year and still managed to build myself up to this point with little to no support, but that’s precisely the reason I don't feel honored to be making this speech right now. It's not that I think I don't deserve it, because I do. I've worked myself half to death to get here right now, to prove to myself that I was not a complete failure and that I was good for something. So I took the hard classes, I turned in all the work, and I did the best I could to put myself where I'm standing right now. But I'm still not honored to be here, because I didn't do it for recognition. I didn't do it for praise or to prove that I'm the best or anything shallow like that. I also didn't do it out of love for school or my classes. I did it out of survival. I did it because if I didn't, I might not be accepting a diploma at all today. I did it because I had no other choice."

As Billy continued speaking, a confused murmur went through the crowd. The audience was wondering where he was going with all this, and the rest of his classmates and the staff were all wondering what happened to the other speech they'd had to listen to him reciting for the past two days at practice. All in all, everyone seemed lost, but Billy didn't care. He took a second as they recollected themselves to look up and see if his dad was still in his spot on the stands. He wasn't, so Billy kept going.

"Most of you here know that I'm not a perfect person. I'm a dick, really. If someone gets in my way, I have no qualms about punching them in the nose or making them cry as they run home to their mommies to have them make the boo-boos feel better. I'm not proud of this. It's just a part of who I am and I'm trying to work on changing it. As I'm getting older and getting closer and closer to leaving this town, it's getting easier to do that. But so far it's been a slow process, because I didn't have any reason to change. That's another reason I never quit and threw myself into my studies, because as I get closer to getting out of here, I'm finding more and more reasons to change. For one, my little sister Maxine deserves a brother that she can be proud of, not one that she dreads admitting relation to. For another, as soon as I get my diploma and decide where I'm going to college, I'm gone. Out of this town, out of this state, and especially out of my father's house. Believe it or not, there are actually people worse to others than me, and if you want an example, well, my father is the best one you'd ever find. As soon as I get my diploma, I get to be rid of him forever if I want to be, and that's exactly what I want. And finally, I met somebody. None of you probably want or need to hear about my love life, and I'll spare you the dirty details, but just know that this person is my reason for everything. For living, for working so hard, and for wanting to change. It's for these reasons, and there are probably more if I put my mind to it, I want to change out of the jerk I was and into a person that would be honored to be the best student in their class. It's for these reasons that I'm even here in the first place, why I pushed so hard to make myself survive and earn it. I'm not the best Valedictorian that this school will ever have, I'm far from it. But hopefully, now that you understand why I'm here, you won't think I'm the worst one, either. You'll understand why I'm here, what I had to do to make it happen, and why, even though I'm not feeling honored by being here, I'm more proud of myself than I ever have been in my life."

Billy had been nervous about giving a speech he didn't practice, but so far he seemed to be fine. He could see Steve on the verge of tears off to the side of him, and it made him remember that even if he was a total flop and didn't make any sense, at least a few people would be proud of him. So he decided to finish strong.

"And to my classmates, the graduating seniors of 1986, I want to say this: I didn't get here on my own. I had help, from a lot of you. I'd like to address some people who really helped on my journey here at Hawkins High, short as it may have been, and helped either directly or indirectly in my success. Heather Holloway, you've taught me to be confident and given me your friendship, which is an invaluable gift that I truly treasure every day. I love you, forever and always you'll be my best friend. Robin Buckley, you've shown me that it doesn't matter who I am or what I'm like, that there will always be people like me in the world and that if I find those people, I don't have to be afraid of what they'll bring out in me. Eddie Munson, you've taught me to be confident in all things, that it doesn't matter if the world is watching, as long as I believe in what I'm saying and doing that someday, I'll make it through and make it out, even if it takes a few tries. Chrissy Cunningham, you taught me to be sweet and kind. Jonathan Byers, you taught me that sometimes I need to see life through the lens of someone else's camera. Nancy Wheeler, you've taught me that you don't have to like a person to be proud of their accomplishments. And finally, Steve Harrington, even though you're already graduated, you know why I'm thanking you, and you know what you taught me. As we move forward throughout our lives, myself and the rest of the class of '86, I implore all of you to take these lessons with you and actually practice them. You'll be successful in whatever you choose to do with your time if you do so. Learn from these people, you don't have to like them, but learn from them. And if you do, I promise you, you'll beat the odds that are seemingly stacked against you."

After Billy finished his speech, he went back to his seat and sat down, waiting for whoever was speaking next to say whatever they needed to. He wasn't paying attention, rather looking over to Steve and Max again, who were both crying and clapping for him.

When the principal finally stood up and read out the names of all the seniors and handed them their diplomas, Billy stood up to receive his first. A shy smile on his face as he listened.

"William Felix Hargrove, class of 1986 Valedictorian," the principal read out like a robot, already tired of having to read out the names of the 236 graduating seniors after the first one. Billy stood and walked over to him, taking his diploma and shaking the man's hand as he smiled for a picture. He was sure he'd have to fake smile when he was told ther would be a photographer there, but because of the screams and shrieks he could hear coming from Steve and Max's direction, he found he didn't have to fake it. As he turned to walk back to his seat he saw them still crying and cheering, making such a scene that Billy was almost afraid the audience wouldn't hear it when Nancy's name was called, but then they quieted down.

They stayed quiet through the rest of the ceremony, except when they needed to make noise, and as soon as Billy was allowed to go and find them, they were on the field with him, both wrapping him in the tightest hugs they could manage. Max was practically squeezing the air out of him, sobbing into his graduation gown that she was already proud of him and she always would be, drawing a few tears from his eyes in the process as he muttered a "thanks, shitbird" into her hair. Steve had let them have their moment, having gone off to talk to Robin and to give her her present and a hug, but now he was walking back over, holding out the shark plushie and smiling from ear to ear.

"I got you this," he said as Billy took the animal, his own grin creeping onto his face. "I figured flowers would just die and you could eat chocolates. I wanted to get you something that would last."

"Thanks, pretty boy. I love her." He said, his face heating up as Max went to talk to her friends and Steve began to back them up until they were hidden from sight behind the bleachers.

"I'm really fucking proud of you, you know that?" He asked as they walked, keeping an eye out to make sure no one was looking as they slipped away. "And I was so surprised when you mentioned me in your speech. You didn't plan that thing at all, did you?"

"Was it that obvious?" Billy asked, but he laughed.

"No, but I just know you. You only get that look on your face when you're determined to do something completely on the fly. It was still fantastic though." Steve replied, finally finding them a quiet, dim little nook to hide away in.

"Thank you. For everything, and I really mean that, Stevie. I wouldn't have made it without you. You're everything to me, you're the main reason I did all that stuff like I said in the speech." Billy said, his voice weighed down with emotion. Steve could hear it, too, and his smile only grew wider as he leaned in real close.

"You saying you love me, Hargrove?" He asked, and the question honestly surprised Billy. Neither of them had ever said it before, even if they had felt it, so it just seemed too casual. But Billy had meant the things he'd said in his speech, about confidence and being himself and all that, and he wasn't giving up on those lessons now. He lunged forward and kissed Steve with all his might, wanting to tell him not only with words, but actions too.

"Yeah, I am. I love you, Steve." He said as they parted, his heart racing as he went in for another searing kiss. He really did mean it when he said it, too. He loved Steve, and he always would.

When this kiss was broken, it was like everything and nothing had changed. Billy was still afraid to hold Steve's hand once they left the cover of the bleachers, but until they stepped back out into the setting sun, he did it. He let Steve adjust his cap and gown before they went out to take pictures, and he let him insist on as many as he wanted to commemorate the occasion. They still couldn't do much in terms of physical contact, but every brush of fingers or press of a side that managed to take place as they snapped picture after picture was like a tiny little press of sunshine to their skin. It was different, but that was okay by them.

"Oh, and by the way," Steve asked as Joyce geared up to snap the next shot, "Since when is your middle name Felix?" And when the flash went off, all you could see what Steve looking puzzled as Billy cracked up laughing.

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Stole this from @kedreeva because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to work on. My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Concert Season Fix-it part 20

Boy w/a Bat Book 2

Rockstar AU part 9

Reconnecting AU part 7

Soulmate AU

Snippet

Steve hadn’t even bothered to tell his parents that the swim team had a chance at nationals. That they had been that good. Nope. He told Wayne Munson and Claudia Henderson though. Those were the adults he really wanted to see there. Not Clint and Marilyn Harrington. Of course Joyce and Hopper were told, too. But Claudia had become more like his mother and Wayne, the father figure he had always wanted.

Eddie had avoided the swim meets for the most part. Not because he didn’t want to support Steve. He did. The problem was the *ahem* uniform for the boys’ swim team. It consisted of one cap, one pair of goggles and the tiniest Speedo known to man. Or at least known to Eddie. He could barely handle his boyfriend in the booty shorts the basketball team wore, the Speedo was just too much for his poor developed teenaged brain.

But through begging, bribing, and blow jobs, Eddie was at that meet.

Thankfully he wasn’t sandwiched between Uncle Wayne and Claudia Henderson. Nope, Marty and Janice had come, too. The rest of them couldn’t get out of their classes to come but they all told Steve they were rooting for him.

Steve walked out in the green Speedo (being the ‘away’ team) cap. The white framed goggles perched on his head. He spoke briefly to coaches Hall and Hastings. And then turned to wave at the enthusiastic crowd. Claudia had gotten Dustin excused from school and Nancy and Jonathan were there as members of the school news paper.

***

As it has been the last couple of weeks I’ll be at work but happily ask away. Multiple asks are fine! Encouraged in fact. Have fun, go crazy. And I’ll start posting once I get home.

[femmeharringrove]

when steve goes into labor early, he finds himself craving his mother's presence in a way he never has before.

he's always loved her, even if she never really loved him. growing up, she always just sort of avoided him - his eyes were so big and open and honest as he toddled about proclaiming his own love for just about everything under the sun - his nonna, the roses growing, and his mama. and she knew she should have loved him. hell, she wanted to love him, but she just couldn't. and since she couldn't love this little being who seemed entirely made up of love, she distanced herself.

and maybe as a child he didn't know, he was gullible enough to believe that she was just busy, just couldn't come play or couldn't help him plant a new flower, but he grew up and he saw everyone else's mother do so much better. and it stung. it did worse than sting, it ached in a way he just couldn't explain. and when he was fourteen he finally broke down and asked her why she didn't love him, and he'd hoped that she'd tell him otherwise but she was drunk and all she could do was break down and cry and ask for his forgiveness. she didn't remember it the next morning but steve's been haunted by the memory ever since, the knowledge that his mother doesn't love him.

of course he always knew his father despised him, there was no question of that. and now that he's having a baby of his own his aversion to the elder Harrington has only worsened. john harrington is a cruel being, he never should have been allowed near ant child, and steve was determined to keep him away from this one no matter what. he's already told the man he won't be allowed in the hospital, but his mother is supposed to be there. but it's the dead of night and the baby is coming early and as much as he cries for her there's no possible way to get her there in time.

still, billy's heart tugs at the way steve whimpers and says "i - i need her." but the thing is, billy knows the infamous misses harrington. and she doesn't deserve to be there when steve gives birth. but he knows exactly who does.

he does feel a little guilty about calling at such a ridiculous hour, but he isn't surprised when joyce answers, soft and groggy.

"hello?"

and billy pauses, because he doesn't know how to word this. he doesn't know how to tell her that steve's hours away from being a father instead of week, that he's crying for someone who doesn't love him, that billy himself is a little terrified. but in the end it just comes out on its own.

"he needs his mom."

and so joyce shows up at four in the morning and steve sobs against her because he's only ever been ready for the theoreticals. this isn't him reading a book on pregnancy, this isn't one of the kind mothers of hawkins sharing their delivery stories. this is steve, his stomach contracting miserably, his back and hips screaming, his heart racing because he's about to be in possession of a tiny little human being who's going to need him for everything. and this is also steve, barely in the third decade of his life, no real plan for his own future, staying up most nights because he's scared of monsters - monsters he'll now have to protect his baby from. and he doesn't know how to put those fears into words so all he can do is cry, and joyce, she gets it, she always does, and so she strokes his hair and soothes his fears as best she can.

and then there's claudia of course, who's been there since steve's first ultrasound, and she never leaves his room for long, not if she can help it. she holds his hand and wipes his tears and steve feels safe. claudia's always called him the older son she never had, and he feels more like steve henderson than steve harrington in those moments.

the kids won't leave either, because of course they won't. eleven and will overheard joyce on the phone the night before and when hopper tries to get them to school they outright beg to stay home because focusing is impossible knowing their honorary neice or nephew could be born at any second. and hop wants to make them go, but ultimately he can't. and once they get the all-clear, they call the others, and the next thing steve knows he's surrounded by a gang of not-quite teenagers looking him over for any problems and loudly expressing their excitement. and it's endearing, because it reminds steve that this kid has a plethora of babysitters at the ready - even if mike tries to act like he doesn't care, which is decidedly false judging from the panic that crosses his face when steve's hit with a nasty contraction.

dustin refuses to go home even as night falls, and max tells susan she's spending the night with eleven - which is true, but they're both staying at the hospital as well, hopper watching them while joyce stays firmly by steve's side.

on his right, as has been the case for the entirety of his pregnancy, is billy. holding his hand, pushing his hair out of his face, comforting and praising him through steve's low whines and pained groans. he doesn't know how many hours he spends pushing but it hurts like nothing else, like his body is being torn from the inside, and he wants it to stop but he needs to keep going. so he does, he grits his teeth and he pushes through everything, and in the end he's rewarded with the first wail of a human being.

and he doesn't cry right away.

not that he can, his body is catching up with that the hell just happened, his breath is still coming in quick, shaky gasps, and he feels like he's only hearing joyce, not listening. nothing feels right until he's given the solid six-pound weight of his baby on his chest. she's so pink, and her cries are subsiding slowly, but steve runs a trembling hand over the top of her head and realizes she's got the same dark fuzz from all of his baby pictures and then it smacks him in the gut.

this baby is his.

and he holds her close and cries because the amount of love in his chest is too much, he hurts with the intensity of it.

nikita rosaline harrington is her name, and billy tears up a little bit because of it. she's a pretty little thing, her nose is tiny and scrunches up whenever billy runs a fingertip down the tiny bridge of it. she's got her father's eyes too, big and brown and curious, billy's never seen anything more precious - or he thinks so, until he watches steve stare at her with the same eyes and nearly has a heart attack at how sweet the two of them are. and he doesn't need to complicate things right now, not when steve's finally catching his breath after months of hardship, but he knows in his heart this is his family. that's his baby, that's his - well, his steve. and he kisses them both on the forehead and promises he'll take care of them. he's not the dick responsible for knocking steve up, but it's an honor to do this, to step in.

to prove he's not like neil. he can be a dad, and a damn good one at that.

and steve, who doesn't even like letting nancy drive the party to the arcade without him being there, he trusts billy wholeheartedly to raise this baby with him. billy doesn't take that lightly.

joyce and claudia spend a good hour fawning over nikita, they've gotten her so many gifts and she ends up in the little cap claudia made and the outfit joyce got. max and eleven are just as thrilled, max kisses her chubby little cheeks and eleven stares at steve in awe for literally creating a life. will talks to her quietly and holds her like he never wants to let go, even though he does in order to let hopper hold niki for a bit.

there's never been a question about who her grandfather is. neil and john are simply unfit, and hopper's been a pseudo-dad to billy and steve, he's the only one who gets the grandfather status. there's a whole mix of emotion on his face as he bounces the cooing baby, telling her how nice it is to finally meet her and how he's gonna enjoy spoiling her rotten. when he finally gives her back to steve, the man has tears in his eyes.

"you did good, kid," he tells steve, runs a heavy hand over his hair before patting billy on the shoulder.

dustin holds her the longest, of course. he quickly comes to adore the fit of his finger in her curled palm, and he tells her about all the things he's going to teach her as she grows up. steve's fondly amused at how easily dustin takes to carrying nikita, in the same way steve got used to dragging dustin around. every time the curly-haired kid remembers to look up at the other people in the room, he gives steve the brightest grin, eyes crinkled with merriment.

"you have the coolest dad ever, niki," he informs her proudly, and steve's finally beyond the need for cool points but it's touching nonetheless.

mike and lucas meet her in the morning, and lucas immediately charms the baby with a little song as he rocks her back and forth. he declares himself the fun uncle, which dustin protests, but steve and billy know lucas is correct. mike is the only one who just knows how to hold a baby, thanks to a baby sister, so he takes nikita from lucas like it's nothing and stares at her little face for a long time. the emotion there isn't something steve can read, but he sees the way mike draws her closer after a moment and smiles.

mike's a protector, even if he likes to act like he doesn't care sometimes. and steve, who's just as protective, knows that niki is beyond safe with him.

when robin meets the baby she nearly screams. but then she remembers how new those little ears are and settles for the biggest grin as she swipes niki from billy and walks about, cooing all sorts of nonsense to her little neice. "she's too cute," she gushes, planting a kiss to the baby's forehead. "i'm taking her home. sorry, dingus." and steve protests, but they both know she isn't about to walk out of there with a baby. robin loves kids, but she doesn't think motherhood is for her.

it's certainly not for everyone. and that thought doesn't occur to steve until his mother shows up, nearly a day after niki is born.

he watches her go to pick nikita up and his heart twists and he wants to reach over and take her back. his hands stay clenched under the blanket as the woman smiles at the baby, then at steve himself.

"you made a cute one, i'm not surprised," she muses, and then she says, "don't you just love her?"

and steve, he can't really respond to that.

billy's his saving grace, picks up on the shift and ends up gently convincing misses harrington to come back another time. when he turns back to steve, the brunette has tears already streaming down his face.

"why couldn't she -?" he tries, but billy doesn't need him to finish that sentence. he moves closer and wraps steve up in his arms and for the first time decides that he hates both harringtons, not just john.

because steve's easily the most loveable soul he's ever stumbled across. he looks at nikita and all he can see is a little steve, and he hates the boy's parents for refusing to love the vulnerable little soul they brought into the world.

[platypanthewriter]

Yuletide Fic 5/5

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan

What hadn’t occurred to Billy while planning for Santa was how long he and Steve would have to lie silently, waiting for the whispers around them to subside. The kids kept eating the Santa cookies, and then getting up to get more, and Will had the giggles about something. He kept wriggling out of the sleeping bags to put on more Christmas carols.

El kept sitting up at the slightest noise, staring suspiciously out the window, and Max wasn’t helping, all “What was that? Did you hear something?”

Jonathan’s shoulders shook suspiciously over on the couch, but at least he was quiet.

Steve didn’t let Billy throw anything at Max and El, and when Billy started to suggest knocking Dustin and Will out with blunt force trauma instead, Steve cupped his face with both hands, smiling at him in the light of the tree. They were scooted down far enough in the zipped-together sleeping bags that the edge shielded them from sight, their knees touching, and Billy let his eyes close as he leaned into Steve’s warm hands.

“Love you,” Billy whispered, almost inaudibly. “See, it’s romantic now.”

“It’s always romantic,” Steve whispered back, which Billy should have expected, honestly, from the man he’d had to flee earlier because he was professing his love loudly in the grocery store over Billy’s choice in mustard.

“Loser,” Billy sighed, squirming closer, and biting back a laugh at the feeling of Steve kissing his forehead, and his ears, and across his cheeks to his eyelids, and down his nose. Billy reached out and grabbed his boyfriend by the back of the neck, pulling him into a real kiss, but soft, so the kids couldn’t hear. “Merry goddamn Christmas,” he whispered, under the annoying, tinny tones of Marie and Donnie Osmond, apparently taped from the TV special. Steve snorted a laugh against his lips, and Billy could feel him grinning.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered, and Billy stroked his thumb over the base of Steve’s skull, and the shell of his ear, feeling the muscles move as he smiled.

“All I did was get out of your way,” Billy whispered. “But I get you tomorrow night, Harrington.”

“No, you—you did all this,” Steve whispered back. “I wouldn’t’ve thought of inviting the Byers. Or the tree. You invited Dustin.”

“Dustin invited himself,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded, squirming closer.

“You said it was okay,” he whispered. “I’d be...this’d be every other Christmas,” he laughed, a little catch in his voice, and pressed in for another kiss, murmuring against Billy’s lips, “Except for you. Love you. Babe. Billy Hargrove.”

“...I haven’t even killed you a reindeer yet,” Billy told him, his face so hot he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. “Jesus.”

“I love you anyway,” Steve whispered, kissing his face again. “I’m generous that way. Y’know. Even to losers who can’t even bring me a reindeer.”

Thank god, Billy thought, turning his head to kiss deeper, tasting frosting, and feeling Steve tremble against him, panting for breath. Thank god he shut up about loving me. Thank god he loves a loser who doesn’t bring him reindeer. He slid his hand up inside Steve’s shirt, under his sweater, and felt his breath hitch. Steve slid a socked foot over, hooking Billy’s leg by the ankle to sandwich their knees together, so their bodies were close enough to feel warm.

“Let’s sing carols,” Dustin said loudly, and Steve scrambled away, sat up in the zipped-together sleeping bags, and beaned him with a pillow he yanked off the couch, which had the fortunate side effect of dumping Jonathan Byers' ass on the floor. He yelled.

Billy should have expected the thankfully brief pillow fight, in which Will got the giggles so bad he fell over, Dustin took a three-pointer in the face from Max, and Jonathan Byers threw pillows at Steve, missing every time.

El smacked everyone indiscriminately, and Steve tried to be some kind of stealth ninja slithering around on sleeping bags while Billy called out plays like a sports announcer, but after they all flopped horizontal again, panting, the kid’s giggles finally petered off, and then there was silence.

It was time.

“How come I didn’t get a home run,” Steve whispered as they retrieved El’s bike from where Hopper’d slid it under the table, as Jonathan tiptoed off for the stockings.

“Didn’t hit the ceiling beam,” Billy whispered back, making it up as he went along. “Gotta hit the ceiling beam before it drops on somebody.”

“I should have got a penalty shot when they all ganged up on me,” Steve huffed, sitting out Dustin’s Commodore 64 games, and Will’s new markers. There was a photography book for Jonathan, and Billy waited until Steve wandered off to stick the two albums he’d bought him kinda behind it— Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and The Police: Synchronicity. Steve used one of his dad’s ski boots to make an ash print by the stove, before helping Jonathan prop stockings up not-too-near the fireplace, so the chocolate inside wouldn’t melt by morning.

Max had new walkie-talkies too, and Billy sat them out with mixed feelings, wondering who the second one would go to—her mom?! He hailed Steve over to have him write a note, too—Dear Max, it said, I have given your step-brother Billy a little Christmas spirit, so he’ll drive you to get a skateboard repair kit.

“Why am I writing it,” Steve hissed.

“She knows my handwriting, dingus,” said Billy, knowing she didn’t believe in Santa, but also buying in, a little, to the illusion.

Steve looked at him for a long second, and then yanked him in for a kiss.

They’d barely climbed back in their sleeping bags when Billy heard bells, and thought really, Hopper? Fuck you. Really?!

El sprang up, stumbling sleepily over Dustin and Will to the window, and from their grunts and muttered expletives, possibly doing internal damage. “Bells,” El mumbled, squinting outside just as they all jumped at the loud thud, and scraping noise, and El turned to stare at Max and yell “It’s his sleigh! It’s his sleigh!” before peeling off to run out the back door to stare up at the sky as Max fixed a sleepy, but extremely suspicious, glower on Billy.

“The fuck was that,” she hissed, and Steve said “Santa!”

“Go away, Santa, too early,” Dustin mumbled, and Billy’s liking for the kid grew three sizes that moment.

“It’s not even two in the morning,” Steve whispered, laughing, and pointing to the digital clock on the VCR, but Mrs. Henderson, Joyce, and Susan all stumbled downstairs, shivering and blinking sleepily, followed by Hopper.

He hummed as he put the kettle on, rubbing his hands together as his kid froze outside like The Little Match Girl, looking for Santa in her pajamas, and Billy finally went to the door with Dustin and yelled “El! Get in here, you’ll freeze!”

She yelled something back, but it got lost in the arctic wind, until she ran back, shivering, and held out a half-eaten carrot like she’d found the Holy Grail. “They dropped this!” she whispered, and Billy dropped a blanket on her head, and walked away to stand by the fire as Dustin pulled her inside, and Will saw his Santa-given markers and yelled.

Steve came up and threw his arms around Billy, either out of joy, or the realization he needed to stop his boyfriend from murdering the sheriff.

The kids all milled around the tree, Dustin’s fingers actually twitching towards the games, but they all noticed the time, and stared warily at their parents—except El, who was wrapped up in a blanket in the arms of the main offender, her snowflake-patterned socks sticking out as she yelled something muffled about Santa.

“Guess we’re opening presents now!” said Joyce Byers, grinning as she watched Jonathan catch sight of the photography book, and Will sitting, cross legged in front of his markers, his eyes wide and fixed on their target. El found her bike and yelled, snatching the note, and Max frowned at the handwriting over her shoulder, then fixed a startled frown on Billy, who shrugged. Max's eyes narrowed as El ran to show Hopper the note, and Billy looked away, watching Dustin rub his face briskly and trundle over to sit under the tree.

Dustin passed his mom a package, grinning up at her, and she crouched to hug his head.

“You’re all insane,” Billy whispered, warming to the idea of Christmas, a bit, as El passed him more hot chocolate, even though Jonathan immediately ruined everything by putting the Rudolph Christmas special on the VCR.

“Euuuugh,” Billy groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s.

In the ensuing melee, Billy ducked around flung Star Wars toys, Legos, what looked like a camping tent, a Ghostbusters baseball cap, and a rainbow of hats and scarves from Mrs. Henderson, who’d apparently made some for everyone there.

“How’d you have time,” Joyce breathed, running her fingers over a pattern in brown and green, and Claudia Henderson shrugged.

“Dustin’s cousins never send thank you cards anyway,” she said, grinning and handing packages to Billy, Steve, and Hopper.

Billy squeezed his, blinking at her, and she patted his shoulder. If Claudia Henderson could brave the wrapping-paper explosion, so could he, he figured, so he edged around to grab Steve’s stocking, and handed it over. “I’m giving this to you on one knee,” he whispered, and Steve blinked at him, then stared down at the stocking.

Instead of pulling out orange after orange, as Billy’d anticipated, Steve dumped it over his lap in a shower of fruit and walnuts, and burst out laughing at the ring-pop Billy’d stuck in the bottom. He yanked the wrapper open and put it on his finger, admiring the huge cherry candy gem, and leaned to whisper “I do.”

Billy flushed and scrambled away to find his actual presents for his boyfriend, rather than watch Steve stare into his eyes, swirling his tongue around his ring-pop, his mouth already red from the food coloring. Billy scrambled half under the tree and yanked out the first aid kit, and the cold-weather kit with handwarmers and foil blankets, and passed them up to Steve, who looked startled unwrapping them, then fond.

“I’ll be ready for anything,” he said, and Billy snorted.

“Can you be ready for anything in Hawkins?” Billy shot back, and Steve beamed at him.

Billy’s Santa presents for Steve, the albums, had been snatched up by Will and Jonathan, he realized after crawling around. They surrendered them after arranging some copies in trade, and Billy handed them over to their proper recipient while Steve stared at the pile of presents growing around him, and agreed to give one of his new walkie-talkies to Dustin.

Which made sense, Billy thought, it wasn't like Billy even knew how to use the damn thing. He didn't even know if he lived close enough to Steve for the damn thing to work, and it was probably more important to Steve that the kids could find him when they found monsters.

Steve was wearing one of his new mittens on the hand without the ring-pop, and the matching burgundy scarf, and Billy sat and watched him as he opened the note from Joyce, inviting him for New Years, and grinned at her.

Billy forgot he was in the middle of the whole Christmas mess until Max punched him in the shoulder, and shoved the note Steve had written in front of his face. “This true?” she asked, scowling. “You’re gonna take me to buy a skate kit.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging, and she stared.

“Santa is real,” she muttered, crawling back over to where El was trying on her new bike helmet.

Steve pushed his haul aside, pausing to blink at a wrapped package from Susan, and waved Billy over as he slowly ripped it open. Two packaged Hot Wheels cars spilled out into his lap—a BMW and a Camaro, and Steve looked delighted. "They're our cars," he whispered, grinning at Billy, his eyes sparkling in the lights from the tree as he ripped the cardboard off the backs, and touched their front bumpers gently together.

Billy shoved them down, hissing, "Don't make our cars kiss."

"But they're in love," Steve whispered back, bumping them together again, and Billy leaned his face in his hand and groaned.

He glanced over at Susan, sitting next to Max and El as El told his stepmom about things you could put in bike wheels to make noise. He couldn't picture Susan Hargrove going through the toy aisle, finding their cars, and he wondered for a wild moment if Max had, but that was even harder to picture. Steve kissed the cars bumpers together again, making a smoochy noise, and Billy elbowed him. He couldn't figure out what the cars had even been for—she wouldn't have given them to him—so the remaining option was Susan had shopped for Steve, intending the whole time to give him little toy cars in a mismatched pair.

Steve put both cars in his hand, their undercarriages pressed together, and rolled their tires together with a sly grin, and Billy smacked his hand again, reddening. “Okay, so,” Steve said finally, “—I didn’t know you’d want to come.”

“It’s fine,” Billy laughed, but Steve shook him gently by the shoulders.

“No, it’s not, but I gotta find you something better than what Bradley's Big Buy had, okay. All I got you was this—” he pushed a squishy package into Billy’s hands, and Billy ripped it open to find a soft sweater, clingier than the horse blanket Steve had pulled over his head earlier. “It’s the color of your—no, it’s not,” Steve said, squinting into his face, and Billy started snickering as Steve grabbed him by both arms and pushed him closer to the tree, then pulled him back, then walked him through the all the sprawled kids and around the other side. “There,” Steve said proudly. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

“I can’t see them,” Billy reminded him, grinning, and Steve stared at his mouth, licking his own lips, then groaned quietly in the back of his throat and stalked back to the couch, sucking on the ring-pop.

“Billy,” said Susan, holding out two rectangular department-store boxes with fancy bows, and Billy bit his lips together and sat down right where he was, lifting the lid on the top one. It was a button-down like he liked, the same brand he was wearing, in a deep oceany blue, and he bit his lips together, frowning into the box.

“Neil was busy, so I told him he didn't need to...supervise the shopping,” she said. “It should be the right size.”

Billy nodded, putting the lid back on, and opened the other, bigger box to see a wool coat, thick but tailored. He narrowed his eyes and put it on, and Steve whistled like a goddamn train. Billy ignored him, tugging at it and zipping up the front, and for once, dressed for the outdoors, didn’t feel like he was wearing an entire mattress tied to his chest. “...thanks,” he said, feeling his face heat, and avoiding looking up at her face by testing the size of the pockets.

“Don’t freeze to death,” Susan told him, sighing, and handed him his stocking. He pulled out Mr. T’s Candy Cups, and Nerds, and some oranges, and Starburst, and then felt something thick. He thought this better not be a fucking bag of coal, after she said she didn’t even think it was funny.

It was a pair of socks, warm and soft, and he considered them for a second before placing them in his lap, and reaching in to find a cassette of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance. He was just pulling out some Twix bars when Max dropped next to him, and he pulled his candy back towards him, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I got my own candy, dipshit,” she said, rolling her eyes, and fiddling with her new, shiny walkie-talkies. "The hat's warm."

Billy grimaced. "We'll get you the board repair kit."

"...he told you not to buy it, didn't he," she said heavily, and Billy winced, opening his mouth.

“Everybody done?” Joyce yelled, and Max opened her mouth and closed it again, gripping the walkie-talkie, but Joyce walked by and patted her shoulder, calling out, “Everybody done with presents? Okay! Go the hell to bed.” Max scuttled away to her sleeping bag, and Joyce prodded Hopper in the side, which he ignored. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting up at him. “Bedtime!”

“It’s morning,” Dustin said, snickering, but he covered a yawn, and Will walked over to his side of their shared sleeping bags, his arms filled with loot, and collapsed in a smiling pile.

“Fine, fine,” Hopper said, clapping his hands. “Everybody back to bed! G’night!”

Max opened her mouth, frowning at him, then sighed, and lurched tiredly to her feet, stumbling away. Steve came over and sat in her spot, throwing his arm around Billy, and sucking his ring-pop, and they sat and stared at the tree as the kids crawled back into their sleeping bags, Rudolph’s dad was terrible on the TV, and the adults all shuffled back upstairs.

“Love you,” Steve whispered.

“I heard those were invented to stop kids sucking their thumbs,” Billy whispered back, flicking Steve's hand with the ring-pop.

“It’s definitely been handy when I wanted to suck on things,” Steve said agreeably, and Billy choked, coughing, as Steve slurped away at his cherry ring-pop, looking smug.

Billy woke the next day alone in the sleeping bag, and tender where he’d rolled on his belt, and where the seams of his jeans had sanded his legs. He groaned into the soft blue-green sweater he was using as a pillow, and smelled food .

Nancy’d shown up, he found out, when he sat up like a groundhog blinking at the sun. She was on the couch with Jonathan, flipping through a different photo book in black and white. They both blinked at Billy, and then waved silently, and he waved back, looking around for Steve, and hoping Steve’s ex and her new beau didn’t try to include Billy in their conversation.

Steve was running back and forth from the kitchen, carrying plates and wearing an intent grin, and Billy watched him for a few minutes before clambering out of the sleeping bag. The others were rolled up, he noticed, and tried to zip his apart. He caught the ties in the zipper, somehow, and was trying to figure out whether he could just roll them together when Will dropped to sit next to him, eager to leverage his sleeping-bag-taming knowledge for copies of all Billy’s music.

Billy considered, aware of Nancy and Jonathan trying not to watch him repeatedly lose his battle with a squishy inanimate object, and finally agreed. “You figure this shit out and I’ll copy you the new Def Leppard,” he whispered, and Will hugged him, which was just—weird, so he waited until it was over, and walked away, trying to fix his hair by feel.

Lucas and Max showed up that afternoon, Mike was there, Billy registered vaguely, giving all the appropriate compliments to El about her bike, and Billy dozed on Steve’s shoulder in a turkey coma and let the Christmas carols float over him.

Just after he thought they’d left again, the floor pounded as Max stalked up to him and slapped the new walkie-talkie in his hand. “Everybody else has one,” she said, glaring at it, turning on her heel, and stalking off. Billy stared after her, wondering whether she honestly couldn't find someone to give it to. He'd seen Lucas', and it was twice the size.

“Ooo, I have one!” Steve said excitedly. “We can talk when you can’t get to the phone!”

Billy glanced up at him, and back down, imagining being able to call Steve when his door was padlocked from the outside, and bit his lips together. He nodded, and cleared his throat. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll...get some batteries.”

“I’ve got some,” Steve said, squirming away, then dropping beside him again to hand over an eight-pack of Energizers. “Dustin gave me some for mine.”

“...might use this thing a lot,” Billy said warningly, flicking the buttons, and Steve laughed.

“Good, I don’t wanna feel needy.”

Before everyone left, Billy got hugs from Joyce and Mrs. Henderson—he couldn’t think of her as Claudia, not when she was wearing an apron and reminded him so much of Mrs. Claus—a companionable shoulder-squeeze from Hopper, and a tense smile from Susan. El asked whether they could come back next year, explaining how Santa got lost sometimes without woodstoves, and Steve nodded seriously, agreeing to everything she said.

Jonathan shook Billy's hand like an awkward nerd, while Will tried to convince them to hang out and listen to music together, until El started questioning them all about music, and Hopper drug her away. As Jonathan, Will, El, and Hopper stumbled off in a hand-holding chain like Billy's paper-doll garland, Billy felt a tap on the shoulder, and turned to see Joyce Byers again.

"Jonathan and Will showed me the car," she said. "It looks really nice."

"They vacuumed it," Steve said, laughing and waving his hands, and Billy rolled his eyes.

"Steve fixed it so your battery will charge right, and changed your oil," he reported, and Steve laughed, grinning, then went wide-eyed as Joyce hugged them both around the necks, yanking them down even though she stood on her tiptoes.

"Thanks so much, you two," she said, sounding a little choked. "You're such good kids. You're such good kids."

Steve made a weird noise in his throat, and Billy's eyes skipped the stinging and went straight to blurry with tears, so he pulled away, clearing his throat, and made a show of lighting a cigarette.

"A-anytime," Steve said, laughing a little unnaturally. He folded his arms, unfolded them, and bit his lips, and Joyce squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, and he nodded.

Billy threw an arm around him as Joyce walked away. Dustin glanced between Billy and Steve and saluted, laughing and shaking his head, and Nancy waved again from the car window. Steve waved back.

“We look like the parents in a Christmas special,” Billy said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, and waving at departing cars. "Like a sitcom." Steve snorted a laugh, wiping his eyes.

After they’d all gone, Billy leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, watching Steve pick up a couple pieces of wrapping paper, and sigh. He sat under the tree, holding a piece of Mrs. Henderson’s ugliest wrapping paper, covered in brown and orange angels that looked like a hollow-eyed Strawberry Shortcake. Steve stretched it flat, and bit his lips together, before crumpling it, his shoulders a little bowed.

“...you don’t think Chriatmas is over, do you?” Billy asked, wandering closer.

“What?” Steve laughed, his eyes lowered. “I mean, it’s still the 25th. I guess. Christmas until midnight.”

“Yeah, that too,” Billy agreed, coming up behind him to reach around with both arms and take the sad crumpled Christmas paper away. He tossed it behind the tree, and Steve snorted a laugh, leaning back into his arms. “But we haven’t even gotten our best present yet,” he whispered, letting his breath tickle Steve’s ear, so he shivered. “This is the part I’ve been waiting for.” Steve opened his mouth, shrugging, and Billy yanked him around so they were nose to nose. “I got the biggest present under the tree,” Billy hissed, “—and I’ve been so patient, don’t you dare tell me Christmas is over now.”

Steve grinned at him, wide and delighted, and Billy squished his face with both hands, making his grin kissable.

Having had plenty of time to plan, Billy grabbed one of the sleeping bags, unrolled it, and tossed it under the tree, towards the fire. Steve pulled him over for a deeper kiss this time, soft and exploratory, as though he didn’t know every hitch of Billy’s breath, and the way he trembled when Steve bit gently at his lower lip, and let it pull through his teeth. “Jesus god of reindeer,” Billy whispered muzzily, and Steve burst out laughing.

“What,” he said. “What?”

“You,” Billy said hoarsely, and cleared his throat, trying to remember his script. “You wanna put on, like, your Christmas songs. Or—or movies. Or something.”

“...you wanna fuck me to Rudolph?” Steve asked, looking a little weirded out, and Billy gritted his teeth, and committed, for the sake of love.

“You want your Christmas shit playing when you get presents, right.”

“...jesus,” Steve whispered, head cocked like Billy was crazy, but beaming all the same. “Uh.” He flushed, biting his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the TV and VCR, and then the tape player. “Uh, just music, maybe.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about Rudolph,” Billy grimaced, imagining the little reindeer’s nasal tones, and the nitwit misfit song. “I mean, if you want to, but I’m gonna...good thing I already know how fucking weird you are—”

“I didn’t come up with—with this Rudolph sex orgy idea,” Steve hissed back, poking him in the chest.

Billy shrugged, rubbing it. “I really don’t know what’s weirder about that than listening to, like, The Carpenters, or John Denver and the Muppets,” he said, waiting while Steve blew the dust off the record player, and frowned between The Jackson 5 Christmas Album and A Partridge Family Christmas Card. “Or those,” Billy said, making a face at little Michael Jackson, and sitting on the sleeping bag, waiting while his dick strained against the inside of his jeans.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Steve muttered, crouching down to put on A Partridge Family with pink cheeks, and Billy waited until the speakers crackled and Mr. Partridge started singing to grab Steve around the waist.

Billy pulled his boyfriend's butt half into his lap, where he could slide his hands up Steve’s sides, lifting his sweater and shirt, and kissing the skin between his shoulder blades. Steve laughed, and leaned his head back against Billy’s shoulder for a kiss. Billy gave him one—then two—then stared at Steve’s startled grin, and sighed, brushing their lips together as the magnetic pull hauled him back in, and Steve gave a muffled laugh and a contented noise deep in his throat, closing his eyes. He tasted sweet, like the cookies he’d been eating, even sweeter than usual, and Billy groaned and shoved Steve forward again in order to push his sweater and shirt up over his shoulders, white from winter, and scattered with birthmarks. Billy kissed a few of them.

“Better keep me warm,” Steve whispered, curling up in his arms, and Billy pulled him in as tight as he could, burying his probably goofy-looking grin in Steve’s hair.

“Oh, I’ll warm you up,” he whispered, and Steve snickered, relaxed against him as Billy slid his hands around Steve's waist, and down to undo his boyfriend’s jeans. Steve groaned, shivering as Billy pulled his cock out—it was already satisfyingly hard in his hand, and Billy rubbed the edge of his thumb across it, so Steve grunted and squirmed in his lap. “...guess the Partridge Family really does it for you,” Billy whispered.

“Shut your face,” Steve mumbled, panting. “You do it for me, we could be—we could be listening to like. Bird calls, I don’t give a fuck—”

“You saying Tweety Bird gets your motor running,” Billy whispered back, and Steve elbowed him, mostly hitting sweater.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, his hips jerking so his dick bumped against Billy’s thumb again, into his hand, and Billy squeezed it, the wetness letting his thumb slide easily over the tip. “Oh jesus,” Steve whispered. “God…”

“Lay down,” Billy said, biting his shoulder gently, and Steve arched against him, groaning. “Come on, your majesty, I’m not even done unwrapping you yet.”

“...nerd,” Steve snorted, panting, but he let himself be pressed back onto the sleeping bag, his cock sliding against Billy’s hand as Billy held him down, gently, by the lower belly, tugging his jeans off. Steve bent his legs up to let Billy yank the legs off without having to move, and Billy laughed as he tugged Steve’s socks off, and tossed them away. Steve grinned up at him, his face lit by the lights on the tree, making him look a little starry.

“There,” Billy said, rubbing his free hand up Steve’s thigh. He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend’s naked dick, and Steve yelped, moaning in the back of his throat.

“What—about you,” he grunted, his voice a little rough. “You gonna raw me in your jeans?”

He sounded hungry at the thought, and Billy filed that away for later. “Nah,” he whispered, swinging a leg over so he was sitting across his boyfriend’s thighs. “Thought I’d make you watch me, for a bit,” he said, sliding two fingers in his mouth, and sucking on them.

Steve muttered “Oh, shit,” and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Now you got me in this damn...Mr. Rogers sweater,” Billy said, keeping his voice low as he drug his fingers down it, Steve’s gaze fixed on them as his dick leaked.

“Don’t talk about Mr. Rogers, gross,” he whispered, and Billy grinned, swinging his hips a little from side to side so Steve's naked thighs could feel the warmth of his ass through jeans. “Jesus,” Steve muttered, clenching his fists as Billy slid both hands around his own waist just under the edge of the sweater, lifting them up underneath against his sides, and Steve laughed a little unevenly, his eyes widening.

Billy lifted the sweater a little more, running his fingers lightly over his abs, and then his pecs as they flexed with his arms up in the damn sweater, and Steve swallowed visibly. Billy pulled the sweater off his shoulders and head, shaking his hair back, and flexed his arms as he pulled the sweater sleeves off.

Steve threw his head back laughing. “Love you,” he said, always picking the weirdest times.

“We’re boning to the Partridge Family,” Billy hissed, instantly irritated. “If this fuckery isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

“I know,” Steve said, his smile soft even as his cock dripped on his belly. “Thanks for boning me to the Partridge Family.”

“Shut the hell up, I’m stripping,” Billy growled, and Steve started laughing again, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and Billy swore and leaned in to kiss him, flattening him to the ground, and wiping the wetness away from his boyfriend’s eyes with his knuckles. “The fuck is wrong with you,” he muttered, and Steve snickered, sniffling. “You want me to hurry up?”

“No,” Steve laughed, swallowing a suspicious gulping sound, and Billy frowned harder. “I just like this,” Steve whispered, laughing, his eyes welling up again. “I like this Christmas.”

“Are you gonna do this every year?” Billy asked in horror, imagining his boyfriend crying through sex while puppets wailed in the background, and Steve laughed harder, wiping his face.

“You saying you’re gonna bone me under the tree every year?” he asked, and Billy felt his face heat. Steve grinned, reaching up to tuck Billy’s curls out of his face, behind his ear. “In sickness and in health?”

“Why are you so weird,” Billy groaned, rocking his hips, so Steve grunted, closing his eyes. “Yes. Yeah. Next year we’ll fuck to Frosty, can I get back to stripping now?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, sniffling. “I love you. Yeah.”

“Christ,” Billy muttered, wiping his boyfriend’s eyes and cheeks again, his own eyes stinging a little—probably with embarrassment, he thought, fairly sure he was gonna get a half-chub every time he heard the Partridge Family playing, for the rest of his life.

Steve was still hard, at least—which was more disconcerting than anything—so Billy sighed, and rolled his hips again, as a reset. Every time he did, his fly brushed the bottom of Steve’s dick, and he groaned, rocking his head back against the sleeping bag. He was starting to sweat, and the light of the tree made him glisten.

“Look at me,” Billy told him, and Steve folded his arms behind his head to see. Billy ran his fingers up his new blue shirt—cupping his sides like his hands were Steve’s, and then running his hands up along the buttons to undo the first one.

“Never seen you with your shirt all the way on before,” Steve whispered, his eyes fond, and Billy snorted.

“Can’t let up on the advertising campaign,” he said. “Gotta show you the goods.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve reached down to squeeze Billy’s thigh through his jeans. Billy undid another button, parting the fabric over his collarbones, and running his hands down his neck, and Steve leaned his head on one shoulder, smiling up. “I’m not gonna...forget, jesus,” he whispered. “Never gonna forget what you look like, babe.”

Billy grabbed the sweater and leaned in to lift Steve’s head into a kiss, tucking the sweater behind it as a pillow.

“God,” Steve whispered against his mouth, running his hands over Billy’s half-unbuttoned shirt.

Billy sat back upright again, while Steve groaned and grabbed at his shirt as he pulled away. Billy undid another button, letting his nails scrape along his skin as he scooped his pendant into his mouth, swaying his hips. He slid his fingers down over the remaining buttons to brush over the edge of his belt, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who laughed, panting.

“Yeah, I’m watching, loverboy.” Steve leaned back on one elbow, smiling smugly, and Billy watched the low golden light on his boyfriend’s face and hair.

Billy ran his fingers over his fly, and down in his pants, tugging his shirt tails out one by one, and swayed his hips in a slow figure-eight as Steve bucked a little under him, grinning.

“Gonna be New Years by the time you’re done, jesus,” Steve said, his gaze riveted to Billy’s hands.

“Can’t keep it up, there, pretty boy?” Billy asked, arching his back as he undid the lowest button, and then parted his shirt like a curtain and undid the one above it to show his taut belly and the trail of hair leading into his jeans.

“Not the problem,” Steve said through gritted teeth, the fingers on his free hand digging into Billy’s thighs.

Billy stopped, looking down to unbutton his cuff and roll it up a couple of times, humming carelessly as Steve squirmed under him, smacking his leg.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” he demanded, and Billy smiled, unbuttoning the other cuff.

“You gonna ask nicely?” he asked, and Steve laughed, shifting under him with a grimace. “You’re leaking like a hose connection with a bad washer.”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed. “Like you aren’t making me.”

“Maybe I should stop,” Billy said, stretching so his shirt lifted.

“Please, please, you dickhead,” Steve broke. “My legs are fucking going to sleep, and my dick’s gonna explode—”

“Thought you loved me,” Billy said, licking his lips, and leaning in so his stomach brushed Steve’s dick. Steve yelped, groaning, and bucking up into the friction. “Isn’t that what you were saying earlier? King Steve, the chosen one?”

“Love you a lot more if you let me touch,” Steve growled, laughing. As Billy sat up, Steve reached out and yanked at his belt, and Billy laughed, smacking Steve’s hand away.

“Thought you didn’t want Christmas to be over,” Billy whispered, and Steve laughed harder, his cock dripping across his stomach.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning back with a shaky breath. “Yeah, I don’t. Never want this to be over.” His knuckles went white as his fingers tightened on Billy’s swaying thighs.

The Partridge Family switched to Winter Wonderland, and Billy’s side was warmed by the fire. He knew the light of it gilded his hair and skin as he flexed his bare forearms, sliding a finger under the leather strap of his belt as Steve groaned.

Billy flicked it out of the belt loops, tugging it off the tongue of the buckle and slowly drawing it loose over his fly. Steve twitched under him, swallowing back a noise as Billy’s jeans brushed his cock. “You want me to fuck you?” Billy asked, undoing the buttons of his jeans one-by-one so Steve could see he was going commando, and pressing his thumb and forefinger together in a tight circle over his own dick, so Steve’s bounced untouched on his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed, looking him over, and Billy grinned.

“Want me to do all the work,” Billy whispered, swaying his hips with the music, “—so all you have to do is lie there?”

“Anything,” Steve said. “Love you, jesus.”

Billy’s hand stuttered, and he leaned forward again, bracing himself over Steve’s chest. “Tell me,” he said. “You want me to ride you? What?”

“I want everything,” Steve said, his eyes wide and soft, and then he grinned. “I mean, we got so many leftovers to get through. Whatever we don’t do now—”

“How can you be such a romantic and such a shithead,” Billy muttered, reaching down to squeeze his boyfriend’s hand.

“Fuck me just like that,” Steve said. “Your party jeans and that shirt. You look like—you’re a wet dream, jesus.” Billy grinned, cocking his head and licking his lips, and Steve laughed shakily. “Yeah, come on, asshole,” he whispered. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, scrounging around in the back of the TV cabinet where he’d hidden the lube, and pulling the condom out of his back pocket. He squirted some lube in his hand, and pushed Steve’s legs up to slide his hand between them, watching him squirm against the cold.

“Warm it up, dickhead,” Steve muttered, grabbing his wrist, but as soon as Billy started sliding his fingers up and down, Steve relaxed, going boneless with one leg bent up, the other sprawled to the side. His eyes went half-lidded as he grinned up in the starry rainbow lights.

Billy watched him pant in the light of the Christmas tree, and smiled, holding Steve’s hips flat to the floor with one hand, and bending to slip his mouth over his boyfriend’s cock.

“Jesus christ,” Steve grunted, shifting under Billy’s hands, and Billy hummed along with the song, knowing he could probably shove on in, but taking it slow, swirling his tongue around Steve’s dick as his fingers worked. He rubbed over the edge of Steve’s hole, over and over, until he was squirming, red-cheeked, and biting his lips together, and he finally said “Jesus, fuck me, god—”

Billy lifted his mouth off Steve’s cock with a pop. “His majesty’s getting impatient,” he said, and Steve yelled “Yes, I fucking am.” Billy laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s knee, and then kissed it, before crawling up to kiss Steve’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” Steve muttered, panting, his skin gleaming with sweat in the light of the tree. “God…” he whispered against Billy’s mouth, whining softly, and Billy grabbed the sweater and shoved it under Steve’s back, pushing his legs up so Billy could push slowly in.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, and Steve started snickering, grunting as Billy’s weight pushed the air from his lungs, but pulling him in for a kiss, bent nearly double.

“God, you feel good,” Steve grunted, as Billy narrowed his eyes, checking his boyfriend’s sprawled limbs for tension before thrusting his hips. “God, yes,” Steve moaned, kissing hazily at anything of Billy's he could reach.

It wasn’t so bad, Billy decided, boning Steve Harrington under the Christmas tree, and watching the Christmas lights reflect off his eyes. Even the music wasn’t too awful—he mostly tuned it out—until Billy went too hard, rustling the nearest branch of the tree as Steve writhed beneath him, and a popcorn ball smacked right between his shoulders and bounced off Steve’s knee, and they both had to stop while they laughed themselves breathless.

“Let’s do this every year,” Steve whispered into his shoulder once they’d finished, sweaty and smiling, and Billy snorted a laugh, pulling him closer.

“...yeah, okay,” he whispered back, running his hand around his boyfriend’s ass where it was still a little sticky, and considering Round Two. “You’re worth it.”

“Good,” Steve laughed, squirming closer. “You’re worth it too. This. Anything.”

“...love you too,” Billy whispered, hugging him close.

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Fourteen

summary: Christine’s calm afternoon with Eleven is interrupted by the boys, who are anxious to share what they learned from Mr. Clarke. word count: 5.3k warnings: N/A

[ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

Will Byers’ funeral was a subdued affair. For someone who was so often picked on, there was quite the turn out. Hawkins Middle School had adjusted their schedule to a half-day to give students and teachers time to pay their respects. Mr. Clarke was in attendance, along with about half the students in his class. Half of them weren’t even dragged by their parents. 

The high school hadn’t closed, of course. But that didn’t stop most from skipping, swearing that they needed time to grieve. Somehow they must’ve gotten lost on their way to the cemetery. The only teenagers standing around Will’s grave were Jonathan, Nancy and Christine. 

Christine was doing her best to keep her distance from Nancy, but it was difficult with Dustin and Mike standing next to each other. The only thing separating her from her friend was Claudia Henderson, who’d been kind enough to stand on Christine’s right and was oblivious to the tension passing over her head. Christine and Nancy only made eye contact once. Christine was thankful for their silent understanding. Nothing they had to say to each other would be said here. It wasn’t the time or place for the petty arguments they were clinging onto. 

As soon as the service was over, Nancy walked off with her parents. She didn’t give Christine a second glance. 

Christine knew that she had a limited time window, but her conversation with the boys the day before was still nagging at her. She jumped on the line that was feeding past Mr. and Mrs. Byers. It seemed like Mr. Byers was doing most of the talking, shaking hands and accepting condolences. Mrs. Byers had her arms wrapped around her torso, just staring out into space. Everyone was giving her a wide berth, either out of respect or their own reservations. What did you even say to a woman who had lost her son? 

She’d been so caught up wondering that she didn’t prepare anything to say. Before she knew it, she was shaking hands with Will’s dad, then standing in front of Mrs. Byers. She hadn’t even noticed that Jonathan was there too. She wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised. 

“Hi,” Christine said lamely. “Uh…” 

There were so many questions she wanted to ask. There were so many assurances she wanted to give. But what if she was wrong? What if Will hadn’t been talking to his mom? Or he had, but it had been a mom from a different dimension? What if after everything, all her proof, they couldn’t get Will back anyhow? What if she failed, and Will was lost all over again? What good was reassurance then? 

Jonathan and his mother were both staring at her. 

“Um…I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you,” Mrs. Byers managed, nodding weakly. 

“Will…he’s a really…he was a really smart kid. And I know how much his friends love him, and how much they want him back. So if you need anything…um…I guess just—just let me know.” 

She was realizing rapidly that this was a terrible idea. She couldn’t even look Will’s mother in the eye, not with everything she knew. She should have gone straight home to Eleven. That was the best thing she could have done for Will. 

Mrs. Byers was squinting at her thoughtfully. 

“Sorry, you’re…You babysit Dustin, right? Chelsea…?” 

“Christine,” she and Jonathan corrected at the same time. Mrs. Byers mumbled an apology, which Christine waved off. “And Dustin and I are just friends. He uh…he hates it when I say babysitter.” 

Mrs. Byers smiled as warmly as she could have, nodding fervently. “No, I know. I know. Will used to be the same way with Jonathan. He always said he was too old for a babysitter, that…that he didn’t n-need anyone to watch him…” 

Christine panicked as the woman’s voice broke. Thankfully, Jonathan stepped in. 

“Hey, Christine, thanks. For the flowers.” 

He nodded to one of the wreaths near Will’s pristine new headstone. Hers stuck out amongst the roses and the white lilies, a rainbow of assorted flowers from yellow daisies to blue hydrangeas to purple pansies. Christine smiled. 

“Oh, yeah. My dad ordered them from Atlanta, but I helped him pick them out. We thought the service might need some…I don’t know. Color.”

She felt awkward saying it. The thought sounded so bad out loud. But Mrs. Byers smiled again. 

“He would like those,” she said confidently. “The colors. Just—Just like his crayons. Thank you, Christine. Really. Thank you.” 

She patted Christine on the arm. It was a brief motion, and she quickly wrapped her arms around her torso again. Like if she let go for too long her whole chest might fall apart. Jonathan stepped up to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He nodded to Christine too, half gratitude and half dismissal. 

Mortified but also relieved, Christine broke off from the crowd. She made for her bike, parked by the road next to the Hendersons’ car. Claudia rolled down her window to speak. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the reception, Christine?” she asked. “You can ride with us if you’d like.” 

“No, I’m okay.” Christine clambered onto her bicycle. Her black dress was making it harder than usual. “I think I just…I want to call my dad. Talk to him for a while.” 

Claudia laid a hand on her chest. “Oh! Alright, sweetheart. Take your time. But check in with me later, won’t you? I worry about you over there.” 

“I will, Claudia. Thanks.” 

Mr. Henderson started the car, and Christine caught Dustin’s eye in the back seat. He gave her a thumbs up, looking much too chipper to be leaving a funeral. Christine suppressed an eye roll, and gave him a salute. Plan in motion. 

It wasn’t much of a plan, she reflected as she biked back to her house. As far as she knew, the boys hadn’t figured out what they were going to say to Mr. Clarke, or how they were going to covertly get information about navigating different dimensions. The plan started with “attend the reception” and ended with “talk to Mr. Clarke.” 

At least Christine’s part of the plan was easy. All she had to do was go home and hang out with Eleven. 

Christine parked her bike behind the house, then jogged up the back stairs. She knocked twice on the back door, then three times in quick succession. It swung open almost immediately. Eleven had clearly been waiting in the hallway for her. 

Despite all of Christine’s coaxing, El hadn’t wanted to change since her makeover. She was still wearing the dated pink dress, and had grown protective over her blonde wig. Christine hadn’t even been able to get her to swap her green and yellow striped tube socks. 

“Late,” Eleven scolded as Christine locked the door behind her. “Sorry. I stopped for snacks. Or do you not want these?” 

She reached into the grocery bag hanging from her arm, and unearthed the box of Eggos she’d gotten from the store. Eleven’s glare vanished, though she was still pouting grumpily. Without words, it clearly read: “Fine. You’re off the hook. For now.” 

Christine grinned, and nodded down the hall. “Come on. You put on the music, and I’ll put on your waffles.” 

The Stranger was playing again when she brought the plates into the living room. Eleven had resumed her place in front of the radio, watching the wheels of the cassette go round with fascinated attention. She swayed back and forth, and Christine smiled. 

“You know, you don’t have to put this on just cause I like it. There are like a hundred cassettes there. My favorite doesn’t have to be yours.” 

El turned to give her a curious look, which was instantly swept away by the waffles. She scrambled over to the couch, taking a seat at the table Christine had set up for her. Her brown eyes sparkled as they landed on the plate with four waffles, twice as high as Christine’s. She snatched the top off the stack. It was already half gone when Christine returned from the kitchen. 

“Okay, I know you probably just want to scarf them down plain. But just in case you change your mind, I’ve brought you some additional options.” 

Christine laid out the syrup, powdered sugar and whipped cream on her table. It was incredibly amusing to watch Eleven stare each of them down. She counted the toppings, then counted the waffles on her plate. Three toppings. Three and a half waffles. Her nose was already scrunched in distaste, but she surprised Christine with a tentative nod. 

“Wow. Alright, let’s try a little adventure.” 

Christine held up the syrup. She popped the cap and squeezed a small pool onto her own plate. Then she held up her waffle and dipped it into the liquid. Warily, Eleven copied her motions. The syrup she poured onto her plate could barely qualify as a drizzle, but she managed to get some onto the waffle. She took the tiniest nibble. Her nose wrinkled again, and she shook her head wildly. 

“No.” 

“Really? Why not?” 

“Sweet. Too sweet.” 

“It’s too sweet? You’re a kid. You’re supposed to love sweet things and rot your teeth out.” 

Eleven pointedly wiped the rest of the syrup off her plate with a napkin, and Christine sighed. 

“Okay. Your loss.” 

Next they tried the powdered sugar. Christine tapped the shaker over her waffle. Eleven liked the way the sugar fell, and analyzed the patterns inside the little square divots, but she was reluctant to try it on her own. Shaking it over the top meant sacrificing an entire waffle to the experiment. 

“Come on,” Christine coaxed. “Just try it.” 

She took a bite out of her own, so overzealous that the waffle tipped and hit her in the nose. The powdered sugar promptly covered her face, and Eleven burst in to giggles. Christine did her best to wipe it off, shooting Eleven a mischievous smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” 

She reached over and wiped the powder on El’s nose. The girl recoiled, but was still smiling as she wiped it away. It looked more like she was worried about getting her dress dirty than getting the sugar on her face. She was more careful than Christine when she bit into her waffle, making sure to lean out over her plate. She successfully avoided hitting herself in the face, but didn’t seem to care much for the taste. Her response amounted to a halfhearted shrug as she licked the sugar off her fingers. 

“Fine,” Christine sighed dramatically. “One more, and I will let you eat your plain, boring waffles in peace.” 

If she’d thought El was fascinated by the powdered sugar, it was nothing compared to her reaction to whipped cream. Her eyes nearly bugged from her head as she watched the cream blossom from the can. Christine proudly scooped it up onto her waffle, taking a victorious bite. It didn’t really matter. Eleven was still staring transfixed at the plate. 

“Pretty cool, huh? Here. Gimme your finger.” 

Eleven was hesitant, but held up one finger at her request. Christine gently maneuvered her wrist, flipping it so her fingertip was out, then squirted some whipped cream into her hand. El jumped at the cold contact. 

“And then we eat it,” said Christine, spraying some onto her own hand. “See?” 

She stuck her finger in her mouth, licking off the cream and motioning for Eleven to do the same. Her eyes stayed wide as she considered the flavor and, a moment later, she held out her finger for more. 

“Ha ha,” Christine chuckled triumphantly. “Gotcha.” 

She gave Eleven some more whipped cream, then handed her the whole canister. She had to talk her through how to operate the nozzle, which kept taking her by surprise every time she used it. Christine thought it was a mistake the first two times she ended up with whipped cream on the entire waffle. By third, she realized Eleven must’ve been doing it on purpose. It was an alarming amount of sugar, but Christine made no move to stop her. She was a deprived kid, after all. She had every right to rot her teeth out. She just hoped it wouldn’t result in some crazy, superpower-driven sugar high that would take her house down. 

“What is favorite?” Eleven asked, after she had devoured every crumb of the waffles. 

“Hm. I guess it just means like you like something, more than you like anything else. Like the waffle toppings.” Christine pointed to the bottles on the table in turn. “You didn’t like the syrup. You thought the sugar was okay. You really liked the whipped cream. So that one’s your favorite. But my favorite is this one.” 

She grabbed the syrup, and poured it over what was left of her waffles. El was still watching her curiously. 

“So favorite…is for food?” 

“It can be for anything. You’ve worn a lot of different clothes now, right? Mike’s sweatshirt, my T-shirt. But if I had to guess, I’d say this dress is your favorite. Or music. I listen to a lot of different music, but this album’s my favorite. And after you listen to a lot of music, you’ll find your favorite too.” 

“I understand,” said Eleven, nodding to herself. 

Christine stacked up their plates, and did her best to contain a smirk. 

“You know, sometimes we have favorite people too. The people we like best, who are the most important to us. Do you have a favorite person, Eleven?” 

Eleven’s eyes went as wide as they had when she saw the whipped cream. In a panic, she shook her head. She had to grab at the wig as it almost slid out of place. Christine probably should have worked harder to contain her giggles. 

“Woah! Hey, it’s okay. I’m just teasing you, see?” She stuck out her tongue, and Eleven relaxed slightly. Still, Christine smirked. “It’s fine. Anyway, I know it’s Mike.” 

El blushed, and quickly hid her face behind her blonde hair. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I think you’re probably Mike’s favorite person too. In fact, I know you are.” 

“Who is yours?” 

Christine was taken aback. But El was looking up at her, sporting a very small smirk of her own. It didn’t even waver as Christine laughed in disbelief. 

“Alright, you wanna see my favorite person? Hold on.” 

She patted the couch, and quickly got up to go to her room. When she returned, it was with her yearbook in hand. She plopped down next to Eleven, motioning for her to scoot closer. Then she opened the book and began thumbing through the pages. 

 “E, F, G, and…there he is.” 

Steve Harrington was the center of everything he was a part of. His grade, the basketball team, even his own yearbook page. He smiled out at them with a perfect smile, his hair fluffy and gorgeous and his eyes shining. Christine noticed with a jolt that he was wearing the same green sweater he had at the party. It was criminal how good it looked on him. 

Eleven ran her fingers over the page, scrutinizing his photo. “Pretty?” 

“Uh, yeah. I guess. Pretty hot.” 

“…hot?” 

Christine winced, unable to meet Eleven’s inquisitive gaze. “Yeah, it just means uh…it’s like pretty, but usually when a guy…I think…yeah, I’ll just…explain that some other time.” 

She wasn’t sure Eleven even noticed her reluctance. She was too interested in the yearbook. With curious hands, she pulled the book closer. She flipped through the pages on her own, running her fingers over the pages each time. Cheerleaders, football games, science fairs, faculty. All of it she took in with the same captivation. Christine wasn’t even sure she was looking for anything until she stopped. 

“Chrissy.” 

 Eleven tapped on the old picture of Christine. She’d tried to blow her hair out into big banana curls, which had already fallen out by the time they’d gone to the gymnasium for their photos. She was grinning painfully, one of her dad’s flannels draped over her T-shirt. 

 “Ugh,” Christine winced with a dry laugh. “That is not a good picture of me. Forgot how much I hated that one.” 

“Pretty,” Eleven assured her, almost sounding concerned. 

“Well, thank you. But ‘pretty’ is probably just Nancy. See?” Christine pointed the next row down at Nancy’s perfect headshot. “Her mom always does her hair on picture day, and she’s a lot better with makeup than I am. She…always looks great.” 

“Pretty too,” Eleven agreed. She rubbed the image of Nancy’s pink cardigan longingly, then looked up to Christine again. “Barb?” 

“Sure, uh…here.” 

They flipped back a few pages until Christine could locate Barb’s picture. She knew Barb hated it as much as she disliked her own. But she didn’t harp on it like Christine did. She’d just shrugged and thrown the pictures into her bag. 

“Ugh, remind me not to wear red next year. That’s another one for the books.” 

And that had been the end of it. 

“Pretty?” Eleven asked from Christine’s side. 

“Yeah. Maybe not to most, but…Barb was pretty. Inside and out.” 

“Pretty…inside?” 

“Yeah. She was a good person. She was funny, caring, loyal to a fault. Barb was…is one of my best friends.” 

Eleven frowned, her fingers stilling over the picture. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be,” Christine assured her. “Wherever she is, it’s not your fault.” 

“Really sorry.” 

Together they stared down at Barb’s picture, the freckles and pink cheeks behind her big glasses. Christine hated this. She hated not knowing where Barb was. She hated that she’d been so wrapped up in the rest of the drama that she hadn’t even noticed she was missing. She hated that people were already feeling sorry for her. That she was already beginning to think of Barb in the past tense. But Barb had to be out there. If Will could be alive, so could she. Barb was the smartest, most grounded person she knew. If anyone was practical enough to survive the jump to another dimension, it was her. 

Christine sniffled away the tears that had welled in her eyes. 

“You know, it’s kinda messed up that your dad taught you what the word ‘pretty’ meant, but not how to tell time. How about we work on that, huh?” 

They passed the next hour or so looking at clocks, Christine pointing out the minute and hour hands while Eleven practiced counting by fives. It wasn’t long before the boys arrived. There were no neatly parked bikes, or secret knocks. Just three blurs of dress shirts and ties flying past her windows and then pounding on the back door. Christine wrenched it open before Mike could manage a dent. 

“Does the word ‘incognito’ mean anything to you?” 

“We talked to Mr. Clarke!” 

It was all the answer she got before the boys pushed past her, darting into the living room. She suppressed a groan as she shut the back door and locked it once more. By the time she’d followed them into the house, Mike was already pacing, Lucas slinging his tie across the back of the armchair, and Dustin spraying whipped cream into his mouth. 

“Just make yourself at home,” Christine grumbled. She kicked Dustin out of his seat and reclaimed her place on the couch. 

“So we talked to Mr. Clarke,” Mike repeated excitedly. “And we asked him about the Upside Down.” 

“Were you at least subtle?” asked Christine. 

“Totally,” Lucas assured her with a wink. “We told him it was all hypothetical.” 

Christine didn’t bother pointing out that everything was hypothetical when discussing theoretical physics. Mike was already rushing on. 

“So at first, he was talking about all the different parallel universes—like you were talking about with the magazine, Chrissy. And he thought we were asking because we wanted closure or whatever. To know that Will was okay in another universe. So then we had to tell him that wasn’t what we were talking about, and that we meant a shadow world like the Upside Down.” 

“Did you know that Mr. Clarke plays D&D?” Dustin interjected. “I asked him if he knew what the Vale of Shadows was, and he just started spitting textbook definitions at me. It was awesome.” 

“Anyway,” Mike continued firmly, “then we asked him how we would travel there, and he said that we couldn’t because we were a tightrope walker, and if we wanted to travel between dimensions, we needed to be the flea.” 

Christine and Eleven both blinked at him. Mike groaned, picking up the discarded marker from the day before. He flipped through the same magazine until he found an article that was mostly text space, and began to draw. 

“So he said that our world is like a tightrope, because there’s only certain ways you can move. We’ve got three dimensions here, and that’s it, right? But because a flea is built different than a human, they can go underneath the rope and it’s still like walking right side up. So it’s like the fourth dimension.” 

“Okay,” Christine said slowly. “So in this situation, El is the flea?” 

“We don’t know. Just because she can see the other side doesn’t mean she’s been there.” 

“Have you been there?” Lucas asked. 

Eleven did not answer, only shifted closer to Christine’s side. 

“It doesn’t matter,” said Mike, “because we know Will isn’t a flea. So if he’s in the Upside Down, there’s got to be a way for regular humans to get through too. Now Mr. Clarke said that it was almost impossible, but…” 

“Theoretically,” Lucas added. 

“…you could tear through time and space to push the dimensions together.” 

Mike ripped the page out of the magazine and folded it along the tightrope line. Then he took the end of the marker and stabbed through the paper. It crinkled and ripped, nearly tearing in half. Eleven shrunk closer to Christine, who frowned at the paper. 

“Okay. I still don’t know how that helps us navigate the infinite space between infinite dimensions.” 

“It doesn’t,” admitted Lucas. “But if the door’s already been open, we don’t have to. Right?” 

“If it is still open, I guess…” Christine reached forward, taking the magazine page from Mike and turning it over in her hands. “If you weren’t looking to open a door to someplace specific, if the only goal was to reach the fourth dimension, then that’s fine. But once the gate closed all the way, I don’t know how you’d get it to open to the same place again. So the only chance we’d have is finding exactly where and how Will went through.” 

“How do we do that?” asked Lucas. 

“Triangulate people who’ve gone missing maybe? All we know for now is that it’s somewhere around Mirkwood. Maybe Steve’s house, if Barb…” 

The sentence went unfinished. Christine had never been more grateful for Mike than when he eased the paper out of her hands. He gave her a very small, but very brave smile, and turned to plead to Eleven. 

“It would take a lot of energy to build a gate like this. But that’s gotta be what happened. Otherwise, how’d Will get there, right?” 

“R-Right,” Eleven stammered. 

“What we wanna know is,” Lucas began, “do you know where the gate is?” 

Eleven nervously shook her head. 

“Then how do you know about the Upside Down?” he demanded. 

“Hey, chill, Lucas,” Christine soothed. “It’s like Mike said. Maybe she can see the bottom of the rope, but not go there. Like…I don’t know. A tightrope walker with a mirror or something.” 

“A mirror for what?” 

“So she can see under the rope.” 

“Why would a tightrope walker need to look under the rope?” 

“I don’t know, Lucas! It’s a damn metaphor! Work with me here!” 

“Dustin?” 

Mike’s voice interrupted their argument, and everyone turned around. Dustin had abandoned with whipped cream and was standing in the front hall spinning on the spot. He was looking at something in his hand, and every few seconds, he would start spinning the other way. 

“What are you doing?” Mike asked. “Dustin?” 

“Dustin!” Christine’s voice snapped him to attention, and he wobbled on the spot as he looked up. “Care to share with the class?” 

“Do you have a compass?” 

“…do I have what?” 

“A compass! I need all of your compasses, right now!” 

“Why would we have…?” 

But Mike and Lucas were running to their bags. Mike pulled out two, Lucas three, and they put them on the table that had previously held Christine and Eleven’s waffles. Christine had to dive to stop Dustin from swiping the plates onto the floor. 

“Dude,” she scolded, but he just looked at her expectantly. 

“Well? Where’s yours?” 

“My compass? I don’t know, Dustin. I don’t think we have one.” 

“You don’t have a compass?” Mike asked, as if he’d been asking about a refrigerator. 

“No, Michael, I don’t have a compass. When the hell would I use it? If I need to get somewhere, I use a map.” 

All three of the boys exchanged incredulous looks. Dustin finally held up his hands. 

“Okay, we need to have a serious talk about your party survival kit, Christine, but it’ll have to wait.” 

“Why? What are we looking at?” 

“The compasses,” said Dustin, placing his own among the pile. “They’re facing North, right?” 

“Yeah, so?” asked Lucas, who seemed supremely disinterested. 

“Well, that’s not true North.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Mike. 

“I mean exactly what I just said,” said Dustin emphatically. “That’s not true North.” 

“Oh my God…” Christine gaped down at the table, checking the compass needles. “Dustin…Dustin, you’re a genius!” 

“Why is he a genius?” Lucas complained. “What do you see?” 

“Are you both seriously this dense?” Dustin complained. He jabbed a finger out the window. “The sun rises in the East, and it sets in the West, right? Which means that’s true North.” 

“So what you’re saying is the compasses are broken,” Mike finished. 

Christine and Dustin rolled their eyes in unison. 

“What? All six of them?” she asked. 

“Come on, dude,” Dustin added. “Do you even understand how a compass works? Do you see a battery pack on this?” 

“No…” 

“No, because it doesn’t need one!” 

“Then why is it broken?” Lucas insisted. 

“It’s not broken,” said Christine. “It’s being influenced.” 

She held up a finger, running through the kitchen to get to the garage. 

Most garages were full of toolkits and auto parts, and boxes upon boxes of heirlooms and junk. In the Walcott’s garage, there wasn’t much to see. They’d moved too much when she was young to accumulate unnecessary stuff. There was a neat row of boxes against one wall, and a light stain on the floor where her dad’s car was sometimes parked. On the opposite wall was a pristine work station of screwdrivers and handsaws. Her father had only used it a handful of times since they moved it, but he said it made him feel more secure. More often, Christine was using it to run science experiments for the school fair, or tinker with her radio to get a wider array of channels. 

She grabbed a meter stick off the back wall and a magnet from one of the drawers, then darted back inside. 

“Dustin, compass,” she ordered, slamming her supplies onto the dining room table. 

All four of the kids hurried into the room. Dustin slid his compass across the table, which Christine caught and placed in the middle of the meter stick. 

“So compasses function based on the natural magnetic field of the Earth. When they’re built, the needle is manufactured with a charge that allows one side to be attracted to the magnetic North.” 

“True North,” Dustin added gleefully. 

“But a compass can be affected if additional magnetic fields are introduced to the environment. Get big enough, strong enough, or close enough, and the measurement will have an increasing margin of error.” 

She tapped the compass face, then slowly began to slide the magnet along the meter stick. As they watched, the red point of the needle tremored and swiveled toward her approaching hand. The closer she got, the more it turned, until it had completed an even ninety degree turn. 

“See?” Dustin exclaimed. “In the presence of a more powerful magnetic field, the needle deflects to that power!” 

“How did you even learn this?” Lucas asked. 

“Physics lab,” Christine said with a shrug. 

“Library book,” Dustin answered, “but that’s not important. Remember what Mr. Clarke said? If there was a gate, it would have so much power…” 

“It could disrupt the electromagnetic field,” Mike finished breathlessly. “That’s genius.” 

“Wait,” said Lucas. “You mean that if we follow the compasses’ North…?” 

“They should lead us to the gate,” Dustin affirmed. 

Christine sank into one of the chairs, staring down at the compass. She couldn’t help the expression of grave horror that snuck up on her face. 

“What is it?” Mike asked nervously. “This is good, right? Now we can find Will.” 

“Yeah, we can,” she agreed. “I’m just…I guess it’s starting to sink in how…colossally in over our heads we are. I mean…a magnet that can affect compasses like this…I mean, that’s a hundred and seventy-degree error…that’s a massive field…” 

“One big magnet,” Dustin agreed darkly. 

“Well—Well obviously, right? So what?” Mike’s voice shook despite his words of optimism. “It’s a tear in time and space, of course it’s gonna be big. But we still need to find Will. We have to get him back to the gate.” 

“We need to bring him home,” said Lucas assuredly. 

Dustin still looked hesitant. “So…what do we do?” 

There were several seconds of silence. It took a few more before Christine realized everyone was looking at her. She’d expected Mike to slam his hands on the table and start handing out orders, or Lucas to argue with Dustin that there were no questions while Will was in danger. But all four kids were looking to her now, each as apprehensive as the next. 

Christine didn’t want to march them into a tear in time and space. But they couldn’t talk to any adults, and they couldn’t talk to the cops. Even if they weren’t hunting Eleven, who would believe them? They were five kids rambling about alternate dimensions, and time was of the essence. 

They were in over their heads. But as Christine remembered Mrs. Byers’ broken voice from that morning, her only option became clear. 

“Well first you’re all going home to change. I’m not taking you on a hike to find an interdimensional portal while you’re in dress pants and ties.”

[slut4supersoldiers]

Someday, Maybe. Chapter 1

Summary: Throw together a boy and a girl and another boy and 5 middle-schoolers, two adults, a little girl with telekinetic powers, and a monster from another dimension and you’ll get the perfectly strange story. 

(AKA: I suck at writing summaries.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington X OC (fem reader) X Billy Hargrove  

Words: 401

A/n: This story is set during S02 of Stranger things and there are going to be parts to this fanfic. I’ll update every Monday. The chapters will get bigger I promise. If I make some errors in the timeline please forgive me. Please be kind. Feedback needed.

“Flo I am leaving.” I yelled as I headed out of the door. “Take care (y/n) and come to the station immediately after school.” My grandma yelled back.

I was 8 years old when my parents died in a car crash. Ever since then my grandmother, Florence took me in. She always treated me with love and care. Since she worked at the Hawkins Police Station I frequented the place and gradually grew closer to Chief Jim Hopper. He was the father figure I never had. Life was good in Hawkins (minus a few bumps) because I was surrounded by a good set of people.

Before I could go to my desired destination I pulled over across from the Henderson household. I occasionally picked Dustin Henderson up as his house was on the way. Flo and Claudia shared an amicable relationship. Consequently, I was acquainted to Dustin. Time and again I would also volunteer to help around at the A/V club due to which I befriended the rest of the boys or “the party” as they liked to call themselves.

“Top of the morning, Milady. Sorry I made you wait.” Dustin ran towards the passenger side and plopped in.

“Top of the morning to you too, my good sir.” I laughed as I began driving again.

“You look pretty today (Y/n).” Dustin was never one to beat around the bush.

“Thank you Dusty, you look different. You’ve grown taller?” I furrowed my brows as I briefly looked over at the kid who no more resembled the little boy I knew from when he was younger.  

“Oh what’s new about me? I think you are referring to these pearls.” Dustin smiled showing off the upper set of his teeth followed by a sound that resembled something between a growl and a purr. I just shook my head as I pulled in front of the Hawkins middle school drop off board.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Dusty.” I pinched his cheek and he immediately swatted my hand away.

“Don’t do that (Y/n) I am a grown man now.” Dustin adjusted his cap as he looked in the rear view mirror.

“Aw, dusty, you’re still my little baby.” I pouted and put my hand on my chest, feigning hurt. Before I could repeat my previous action he jumped out and made a run towards the school.

Once I saw Dustin’s figure disappearing into the school I breathed in a huge sigh before driving towards Hawkins High.

First day of school. Here we go!

[fears--all-the-way-down]

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Max was quiet a beat longer than the question as she pressed the pencil to her waterline after a perfect cat-eye swoop. She’d gotten pretty damn good at that without someone to show her how. For the girl who’d sworn up and down that she’d never touch makeup she always ended up pretty pleased with her reflection. It was something she did for her, not for anyone else. She blinked a couple of times pulling away and looking through the mirror at Claudia, “It’s Valentine’s Day. Who said I was doing anything with your son?” being a pro at looking dead serious probably shouldn’t have been something she was proud of. But for a moment she saw Claudia’s flustered look and it was enough for her. A second later she watched eyes roll in her direction. With a light laugh disbursed, she reached for the clear lip stain sprawled out on the counter, “Do you want me to tell you that we’re going to park in an empty parking lot to do typical bad teenage things?” she batted mascara’d lashes at the boy in question’s mother. A mother who simply wasn’t buying it. There was a breath and a pinch of the bridge of a nose, “Maxine.” as if she wasn’t used to Max’s smartass remarks. “You. You, more so than my son, are going to be the death of me baby.” had anyone told max she would have been able to have this sort of exchange with an adult she would have laughed. There was just something so completely comfortable about Claudia Henderson that Max felt entirely herself. “I made dinner reservations at a place just out of town. Then I think we’re going to hit a couple of the comic shops along the way and come home and watch a movie. Nothing special. Valentine’s Day is a gimmick.” she shrugged, screwing the cap back on her lip gloss and tossing it into the open makeup bag on the counter. Max never flinched or moved as Claudia walked into the bathroom. She stood watching the older woman in the mirror as Claudia started to fix one of the french braids in her hair. The way a mother should have when her daughter was getting ready for a date. It was a move that Max never took for granted. “You’re good for him you know. The two of you are good for each other.” She should have taken Claudia’s words without complaint. But she wouldn’t have been Max if she had. “Good for him? I don’t know about.” she started with a pause. Letting Claudia take the small elastic off the counter and knotting it around the bottom of the braid. “Good on the other hand? Well he said as much last night.” she winced as Claudia lightly pulled her hair in retaliation, a playful gesture, and she laughed. There was a serious sigh, “Teenagers. I hate this age.” she grumbled. Before she could make things any worse the door had opened and shut. The only thing that excused the pink shirt he had on underneath the red and grey flannel and green bomber jacket was the fact that it had NASA scrawled across it. His hair, now long and shaggy with grown-out curls was pulled back in a stolen elastic and that same face-encompassing smile was plastered on his features as though it were a bigger holiday than Valentine’s day. Max had to roll her eyes in order to not wear a matching smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mom” Dustin greeted, pressing a kiss to the single mother’s cheek. For a moment she could see a six year old boy who talked too much handing weeds to an overjoyed mom for approval. She wouldn’t tell him, but falling more in love with Dustin Henderson was happening, not that she needed more reason. Max had never been one to admit her soft moments. “Thank you honey.” she kissed his cheek and Max looked away before the light blush on her cheeks was noticed. The influence of the mother son pairing was one that made her feel like maybe she could handle the future. Made her almost look forward to the potential of a few years down the line or whatever. “Honey, an iron could you have…” Her eyes raised to meet Dustin’s in the mirror as he walked over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Someone kicked me out of the shower this morning.” he mumbled against her and she turned her head and caught his lips against hers. Shit, why was it so easy to get lost in him? “I let him wash my hair at least.” there was little apology for the fact that they elected to conserve water… it wasn’t as if Claudia didn’t know where they stood most mornings on the rush to get out the door and go to class. Valentine’s Day morning wasn’t going to be any different than a typical day that ended in a Y. Before she could say anything else she felt him, a bite against her neck, his hand against her skin where her crop top had risen up. Involuntarily she felt herself turn into him, letting him stay station for a moment. “Yeah well, I had to shave.” He pulled back from her, forehead resting against her own, “that’s bullshit, you don’t even do that.” It was Claudia’s cough that pulled her back into the moment again. “I… I’m done.” the woman’s head was in her hands then, clearly she was done with the set of teens actions. Not that Max could blame her. “Listen you two… you have 5 months till he turns 18 and you’re not my problem anymore. Can you just…” She turned to the boy she refused to admit was her boyfriend then, “your mom does realize that it takes like… nine whole months to cook a baby, right?” his denim hues darkened then, searching her eyes for a hint of a joke. “I’m just saying… we screw around now and it’s going to be well after you turn 18.” she’d heard his musing, his future thoughts, his ideals of being nothing like their fathers. “I’m just saying…” In the doorway Claudia stood shaking her head, not finding any amusement in their conversation ...at least that she would admit to.