#Eddie needs a hug

[katethetank]

My kink is traumatized doe eyed boys squatting while running for their lives in white Reeboks.

[mugloversonly]

What Happens Afterwards?

I read this post by @acowardinmordor and was obsessed with what happened next. Written with their blessing.

also on AO3

tw: overdose, drugs, near death experience, mentions of HIV

Summary:

Famous Eddie doesn't touch drugs...too bad Steve does After Steve ODs at a Corroded Coffin concert, he wakes up in the hospital.

Steve woke up groggy and confused. Is he in a hospital? Suddenly the night rushed back to him. He did a line, borrowed a needle. He’d meant to go back to the dressing room, but he hit the deck before he could. Shit!

He shot up and frantically looked around, hoping beyond all hope that he was alone. Luck was not on his side though, because Eddie was asleep in the hospital chair next to him. Steve took a long look at the love of his life. His eyes were red and puffy with deep bags. His hair was a tangled mess as if he’d been yanking on it. And his clothes were rumpled as if he hadn’t changed them in days.

Steve sighed. He really didn’t want to have this confrontation right now. Before that thought could even leave his brain, Eddie opened his eyes and met Steve’s. The pools of chocolate were filled with a myriad of emotions. He leaned forward and took Steve’s hand.

“Hey, Stevie. How’re you feeling?” He asked softly as he reached over and pressed the nurse call button. Steve was confused by the softness, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“How did I get here?” He asked instead, dropping his gaze.

“You were brought in as a John Doe after the concert baby.” He whispered, his voice thick. “They said you overdosed.” He didn’t sound angry, Steve would have preferred that. Instead he sounded guilty. Steve forced himself to look and felt bile rise up at the expression on Eddie’s face. “I’m sorry baby.” Eddie said. “I’m so sorry.” Tears ran down his already tear coated cheeks. Steve expected yelling, berating, and ultimatum. Anything but an apology.

“Sorry for what, Eds?” He asked. “You didn’t do anything.” That turned out to be the wrong thing to say as it turns Eddie’s cries into sobs. Something sour built a home in Steve’s chest.

“Exactly! I didn’t do anything!” He said emphatically, gesturing wildly. “You were missing! And i didn’t do anything! I let everyone else handle it while i panicked. I still played the show. I didn’t follow my gut and looked who the junkies were that night!” Tears streamed down his face, but the words rattled something in him.

“How long have I been here?” Steve asked hesitantly. Eddie took a stuttered breath.

“Five days. You’ve been here for five days. You were missing for over 24 hours.” He bit his lip trying to stifle more tears.

Steve was floored. Five days?! Wait…missing? “Oh, baby.” Steve said, mournfully running the hand not hooked up to anything along Eddie’s cheek. He melted into the contact and put his hand over Steve’s. “I’m sorry for putting this much stress on you.”

“For a minute there, I’d thought it came back.” Steve knew exactly what Eddie meant. The upside down. “But when I found out you ODed…I almost wish it had.” Eddie admitted. “This is all my fault.” He whispered unable to hold the tears back any longer.

Steve felt like he’d been on top of the world from what he could remember of the high, and he thought about chasing that rabbit. But the look in Eddie’s eyes, the deep well of pure devastation and guilt swirled together, made Steve pause. He couldn’t do this to Eddie again. “This isn’t on you.” Steve insisted. “I told you I quit. You had no reason to assume I’d be in that bathroom.” Eddie just shook his head.

“If I hadn’t forced you on the road, you never would’ve had access to this kind of hardcore shit in the first place. If I spent more time with you, if I never left you alone, you wouldn’t have felt the need to do this.” Eddie trembled. “I should have protected you better, I knew what that shit could do, I’m so sorry baby.” Steve knew then that there wasn’t anything he could say. Eddie would blame himself for this until the end of time.

That more than anything else, broke Steve down. “I’m sorry, love.” His voice trembled. “I shouldn’t have lied. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He flipped his hand up in offer. Eddie immediately filled it with his. He squeezed it as he continued. “You had so much to worry about, I didn’t want to be another. But I should have known that you’d worry anyway.” Steve looked away, ashamed.

“Baby…” he was cut off as a doctor came in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington. You’re lucky to be alive. The cocktail of drugs you took was extreme.” The doctor said.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“The heroine appeared to be laced with meth. And the line he did was cocaine and ecstasy.” The doctor said calmly. Eddie gasped a shuddering breath and his hands shook in Steve’s grasp.

“I didn’t know the heroine was laced.” He said. “It wasn’t my needle.” The regret was finally showing up. At this the doctor’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Eddie yanked his hands away and covered his mouth.

“I’ll send in a nurse to grab some blood so we can run some tests.” He said. “In the meantime Mr. Munson, I recommend limited physical contact.” He directed that to Eddie with a look of sympathy. He nodded and the doctor took his leave. Tears sprang to Eddie’s eyes and ran down his face.

“You shared needles, Stevie?” He asked in shock, his voice quiet. His fear was clear on his face. “Have you been…doing other things for the drugs?” Steve had to come clean.

“I’d do pretty much anything for them.” He admitted.

Eddie stood up quickly and made to leave the room. “I’m going to go let Robin know you’re awake.” He dashed out before Steve could say anything else.

He fucked up. He always felt guilty after the high wore off, but this time it was horrible. He’s in the hospital, after disappearing for over a day. He should have been more careful. He knew sharing needles wasn’t the best plan, but at the time the high was worth it. But the look of betrayal, sadness, and the tiniest glimmer of disgust on Eddie’s face just now, was enough to make him never want to touch another pill. Sleep snuck up on him and he prayed that Eddie would be back when he woke up again.

His prayer went unanswered. The next time he woke up, it was Robin by his bedside. She was staring at the TV but she wasn’t really watching it. “Hey Robs” he said. She whipped her head around so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if it popped off.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She exclaimed. The smile on her face fell quickly. “You’re an idiot. If you weren’t in this hospital bed right now, I’d smack you.” He shrunk down in the face of her ire. “What were you thinking?!” She shrieked.

“I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” He admitted. The fire in her eyes could set the arctic ablaze.

“Not that bad? Not that bad?! You ODed at Eddie’s concert.” She began counting on her fingers. “You lied about being clean. You shared needles with some random junkies!” On the last point she threw her hands up. “How often have you done that? Don’t lie to me Steve.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Every once in a while when I get the itch for it. Maybe once every few months or so.” He admitted grimly. Robin’s eyes narrowed.

“So however many months you’ve been doing this, you’ve been sharing needles?” She clarified. At Steve’s nod she sprang up and paced the room. “Every time?”

“Not every time, but not rarely either.” He said as guilt started to creep into his stomach. She ran her hands into her hair and yanked on it softly.

“Have you been getting tested at least?” She asked.

“I’m not cheating on Eddie, Robin!” Steve yelled, hurt that she’d even imply that. She stopped pacing and turned to him.

“Okay, first. I didn’t say that. Second, your word has no credibility right now. I know you wouldn’t, dingus. That’s not why I was asking.” She grabbed his hand. Before she could continue, a nurse came in.

“Oh good! You’re awake. I’m going to be taking some blood okay?” She asked but really was demanding. She glared at Steve as he held out his arm for her.

“Is everything okay?” Robin asked. The nurse turned to her and gave a small smile before glaring again at Steve.

“With the patient, everything is looking like it’s returning to normal.” She snapped the tourniquet into place but when Steve flinched she didn’t look remorseful. She drew a few vials of blood, stuck a bandaid on, and pulled off the tourniquet all in silence. As she got cleaned up to leave, she finally spoke. “Look kid, it’s not my place. But that boy out there? I can take a guess as to what your relationship is with him.” She flashed a tiny pride flag pinned inside her scrubs. “He cares about you so much. He was beside himself when he came in and saw you, he had you moved to this room, he asked us if there was any kind of experimental treatment, anything to help you.” She turned that glare on him again. “He loves you to the ends of the earth and he will never leave you. You better clean up your act to be worthy of that devotion, because make no mistake. He would let you drain his veins and apologize for not bleeding out faster.” She stalked over to Robin and handed her a stack of papers. She jabbed a finger in his face, “don’t you dare break up with him in a misguided attempt to save him from you. You clean up your act. If not for yourself, then for him.“ With that she stomped out of the room and practically slammed the door behind her. For a moment neither of them said a word. Steve was filled with regret and Robin was a bit smug. She looked down at the stack of papers. Rehab clinics.

“Should we pick one?” Robin asked.

“I think I want to do it with Eddie.” Steve replied. “The nurse was right. And so were you. I’ve taken him for granted and my word means shit right now. I want to prove to him that I want to get clean.” Robin hesitated.

“Do you?” She asked. “You don’t seem particularly regretful about the actual drugs.” Her tone was soft even though her words were harsh.

“I do!” Steve exclaimed. “You didn’t see the look on Eddie’s face, Robbie. He was devastated and blamed himself for all of it. When I told him I’d do anything for the drugs he got up and left. I don’t think he’s coming back in.” He trailed off into a whisper. Robin took hold of his hand.

“Stevie, he’s right outside.” She said. At Steve’s confused look she continued. “He’s sitting on a bench right next to the door. He wanted to come back in, but I asked him to let me talk to you alone.”

“Why?” Steve asked. Robin’s eyes hardened.

“Because what I’m about to say, he wouldn’t like, but as your best friend I have to tell you hard truths. And Eddie's my best friend too so I have to protect him.” She took a deep breath. “You deserved his love once Steve. I truly believe that. But right now, his love for you is hurting him. And the only one who can fix it? Is you. He hasn’t slept or eaten practically at all since you disappeared.” Steve flinched at the word disappeared. “When he called me he was sobbing so hard I thought you died Steve.” Her eyes watered. “He kept repeating ‘it’s all my fault. I did this to him’ and Jeff had to take the phone to explain what was going on. When I got here, you were still touch and go. You died on the way here, Steve. They had to resuscitate you. The sound he made when the doctors told him that…” she shuddered. “I felt his heart shatter. The nurse is right. He will forgive you and he won’t ever stop loving you and he won’t ever leave you.” Her eyes got intense again. “So you need to promise me. Promise me! That you’ll take care of yourself. Because I don’t think I could survive watching him wither away if you leave him.” The emphasis she put on leave tore Steve apart. She didn’t mean break up with him. She meant leave him. “You don’t deserve his devotion. Not after you lied to him for months. But you have it. So now, you need to cherish it. Got it?” She asked. Steve could only nod as the dam finally broke. They held each other’s hands as they cried together.

~~~

“Can you get Eddie? Please.” He asked after his eyes dried up. Robin nodded and dashed out the door, waving Eddie inside.

Steve’s heart broke at the sight of him. He looked exhausted and his eyes were red rimmed as if he’d been crying for hours. Steve held a hand out to him and Eddie rushed to take it. Steve slid over in the hospital bed, yanking Eddie in after him. He curled around him and held him close being mindful of the wires in his hand as he draped it on Eddie’s chest. Eddie took a deep breath but Steve could feel the anxiety still thrumming under his skin. “I’m sorry, love.” Steve whispered. “I shouldn’t have lied.” He halted when he heard the sniffles. He sat up, peering at Eddie. His cheeks were wet again and Steve reached up to wipe them clean.

“Stevie, I have to ask…” he began. “And I hate to even think it. But…” he paused. “Did you…when you said you’d do anything for the drugs. Did you sleep with people for them?” He finally spit out. Steve wanted to be mad. He wanted to hiss and spit and rage at the accusation. But he knew that wasn’t fair to Eddie. He was within his rights to ask.

“No my love.” Steve promised. “Never.” Eddie nodded and sighed with relief. “I don’t know how much my word is worth right now.” He admitted. Eddie pressed a finger to his lips.

“I trust you.” He said. Those three words broke Steve. How could Eddie trust his word after everything? He asked him as much. Eddie just smiled softly. “I trust you because I want to. That’s all there is to it.”

“I’m sorry for everything.” Steve repeated desperately.

“I forgive you.” Eddie promised. “Now, let’s forget the past for a minute and focus on the future.” Eddie said. Steve looked over his shoulder to the door to the room and saw Robin and the Coffin boys. The boys were glaring at Steve but he knew it was because he hurt their friend.

Steve grabbed the rehab brochures and the two went over them until they found one that had a branch in DC. “I don’t want you to cancel the tour Eddie.” Steve was adamant. He ruined enough of the tour so far and he wouldn’t be the reason it ended. At least in DC he’d be close to Robin who would keep him in line. She promised Eddie daily updates (real updates) once Steve got out until the end of the tour. Eddie finally agreed after the boys convinced him he’d need the distraction so he wouldn’t be pacing around the house all day.

Steve leaned up to kiss him, but Eddie pulled away. The regret in his eyes was almost enough to soothe the hurt. “Not yet Stevie, okay?” He asked. Steve nodded but his head tilted in confusion. “Not until the blood tests come back.” He explained. Suddenly, Steve understood. He put himself at risk and Eddie too. The virus going around was deadly and Steve had been careless. Playing russian roulette with not only his life, but Eddie’s too and by extension the band’s.

The shame that filled him was so intense he reached over and retched into the nearby bed pan. Robin ran over with a trashcan and he kept heaving. Eddie rubbed his back as he emptied his body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…” he cut off by dry heaving. He finally understood why Eddie ran from the room earlier and why the nurse glared at him. He’s a monster. He put the love of his life at risk of contracting a deadly disease just so he could get a fix. What the hell was wrong with him?

When he was finally done, he was exhausted. “Sleep baby.” Eddie whispered. Steve clutched tight to his hand.

“Will you stay with me?” He asked. As his eyes drifted shut.

“Forever.” Eddie whispered as Steve floated off into a dreamless sleep. His last thought was that he needed to prove he was worth forever.

~~~

The next time he woke up, Eddie was still there. Asleep curled up beside him. But in the chair next to him was someone he hoped not to see. Wayne. Their eyes met and he didn’t say anything, he just raised his right eyebrow and Steve folded. He apologized for letting Wayne down, for hurting Eddie, for lying about it. He begged Wayne’s forgiveness, but the man didn’t respond. His gaze flickered to his sleeping nephew and softened.

“You listen to me boy.” Wayne said. “My nephew is a gentle soul, quick to forgive and let things go. You should know that based on how he was after that spring break.” They both shivered at the memory. “So, he’s not going to want to hold you accountable. He’d rather just move on and take your word for it. But lucky for him, and not so lucky for you, I will be holding you accountable.” He leaned in. “I love you like one of my own Steve, I really do. But I love my brother too and he ain’t seen Eddie since they locked him up. Eddie forgave him within days, trusted him. I learned then, that if Eddie loved someone, he’d forgive pretty much everything just to keep them around. So I’ll tell you the same thing I told Al. Eddie is my boy, first. And I will protect him from anything that will hurt him, even if it’s himself. So I’ll be holding you accountable. You’re going to rehab?” Wayne asked. At Steve’s nod and explanation of where, he continued. “You’re going to give the rehab my information as someone who they can talk to. I’m going to call to check up whenever I see fit. Got it?”

“Yes sir” Steve replied. The nurse from before knocked and opened the door quietly. She paused as she saw Eddie curled up in the bed next to Steve. She gently shook him awake.

“Mr. Munson? We have both of your blood tests back.” At this Eddie was wide awake.

“You got some blood tests done Ed?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, just um…just in case you know?” He trailed off not making eye contact with his uncle.

“Good news or bad news first?” She asked.

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie and Steve replied in tandem. They shared a private smile.

“Bad news, Steve you have moderate kidney damage. It won’t take much more to send them into failure.” She said with hard eyes.

“And the good news?” Wayne spoke up.

“Good news, you both are negative for any STDs. Including HIV.” The three men breathed a huge sigh of relief. The nurse turned to Steve. “You got lucky kid. Don’t forget that.” Steve assured her he wouldn’t and she left with a nod. He couldn’t believe he’d been so reckless. He turned to Eddie and was immediately pulled into a soft kiss.

~~~

“They said you’ll be discharged soon.” Robin said later. “Then what?” It was just the two of them.

“Then, Eddie drops me off at rehab and I get help. I stay clean. I do everything to be worthy of him.” He declared. Robin nodded her approval. Eddie came back from the hotel with all of their things packed away in a rental car. He slid into bed next to Steve.

“Hey, baby. You ready?” He asked. Steve nodded and they all left the hospital. The three of them piled into the car and drove Robin to the airport. She was going to fly back to give the boys some time alone. She hugged Steve and then Eddie. She whispered something in the his ear that had him tearing up. She went into the airport with a promise to call Wayne if she ran into any trouble.

Then it was just the two of them. They spent the first hour or so making idle small talk before the curiosity got the best of him. “What did Robin say to you?” He asked.

“Nothing important.” Eddie answered far too quickly.

“Oh, come on. You can tell me.” He knew he was being annoying but he didn’t want to think about what was awaiting him at the end of the ride. Eddie sighed, he never could keep something from Steve.

“She said if I could forgive you, I should forgive myself.” He admitted.

“You still blame yourself, love?” Steve asked. Eddie bit his lip as he nodded.

“If I hadn’t dragged you on tour, you never would have found that stuff.” Steve couldn’t let this stand. He knew he had to finally come clean.

“I was already doing it.” At Eddie’s questioning noise he continued. “As soon as we got to LA, I was looking for it. I did it at those events because it was free from someone else's supply.” He took a breath and glanced at Eddie before he admitted the next bit. “I didn’t get into this shit because I was on tour with you. I wanted to go on tour because I didn’t want to be away from you. That it would be way easier to get my hands on shit, just sweetened the deal.”

Eddie was quiet for a while after that. Steve glanced over and saw his cheeks were wet. He’d made him cry again. “So, you didn’t start them because of me?” He whispered.

“No love. And to be clear, even if I started on tour, it still wouldn’t have been your fault. You didn’t hold me down and force a line up my nose okay?” He reached out and wiped away a tear. “This was my choice. Just like going to rehab is my choice. If I didn’t really want to go, I wouldn’t.” His conviction was clear. Eddie pulled to the side of the road to kiss Steve softly before they drove the rest of the way in comfortable conversation.

They arrived at the rehab center and Eddie walked him inside. He checked in, Eddie handed over his credit card, Steve handed it right back and handed his over. The attendant smiled and swiped Steve’s card giving the boys a moment alone. They held each other close and kissed not caring at the moment who saw them. “I love you, baby. Don't forget okay?” Eddie whispered leaning his forehead to Steve’s.

“I know, love. I love you too. More than life.” He replied. He gave a final kiss to Eddie’s lips and followed the attendant into the center. He was determined to come out a new man.

~~~

Six grueling weeks later, Steve was out. He had a sponsor and group therapy sessions. Waiting to pick him up was Robin. Eddie was on the last few weeks of the tour. They had to extend it a bit to cover for Steve’s hospital stay. Robin gave him a long hug. “Ready to bust out?” She asked and they both got into the car. He lasted barely five minutes.

“How is he?” Steve and Eddie didn’t speak at all during his rehab. The center thought Eddie being on the road would be triggering to Steve. And to be frank, Wayne thought Eddie needed to distance himself from the process for a bit. Wayne and Robin had kept them both informed on the other.

“He’s okay. I mean…he misses you terribly, but he’s been coping on tour.” Robin said. Thankfully the drive wasn’t very long. Steve wanted to be in a familiar place, even if life outside of rehab was scary. They pulled up to Robin’s building and Steve stepped in after her.

There was a loud pop and confetti raining down on him. “Welcome home Steve!” Came several voices he was not expecting. The entire party was here. Wayne, Hopper, and Joyce too. But what brought him to tears was the sight to his left. Eddie was there, holding his arms open. Steve ran into them, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

“I thought your tour didn’t end for a few more weeks?” He asked in between kisses.

“I lied about the end date to surprise you.” He admitted holding Steve close. “Are you surprised?”

“Very! A good surprised!” The two pulled apart so everyone else could greet Steve. Eddie didn’t go far, not letting go of Steve’s hand the entire time. He’d felt better in rehab once the withdrawals subsided. More clear headed, more aware. But he didn’t feel completely healed. Feeling the warmth of Eddie’s hand in his, Steve felt hopeful for the future. As he made eye contact with the man again, Steve silently promised to stay clean. Not for just Eddie. But for himself too.

~~~

He skipped the next tour as recommended by his therapist. The two men decided it would be better if he wasn't alone, so Wayne stayed with him. He'd been retired from the plant and wanted to move out to LA with Eddie anyway.

He and Eddie had a hard time, but they make due with calls and letters. On one memorable occasion Steve sent a racy Polaroid. That night, Eddie called already worked up and they had a wonderful time. The reunion was so sweet. They were locked in their bedroom for days, coming out only for food and water. The rest of their friends knew better than to come visit until the love birds made the first move.

The band wrote a new album and started a nonprofit for drug addicts. It helped those who couldn't afford to get clean and see therapists, providing them with clean needles and clean drugs to help ween off them. Steve didn't shy away from his overdose, or the affect it had on those around him and he encouraged the others not to either. Eddie did several interviews on how helpless he felt when his "best friend" was taken to the hospital as a John Doe. This spurred the nonprofit to add resources for loved ones of addicts too.

Steve had been sober for three years when he went on tour with the band again. For real this time. He got clean and he stayed clean. When he was offered something at a party, he couldn't say he wasn't tempted. But he'd look over to see his love laughing and knew he'd do anything to keep that sound in the world. He never wanted to jeopardize Eddie's happiness again and he finally accepted he was his happiness.

And the next time the band played The Garden, Steve was on the sidelines cheering for Eddie and the band. He made sure Eddie could always see him and know he was safe. That look of guilt and devastation he saw in the hospital never returned to Eddie's face and Steve was determined to keep it that way.

[tartarusknight]

Eddie had this thing where he'd lie to the simplest questions. Honestly, it wasn't even because he thought it was funny or that he felt uncomfortable. It was just that sometimes someone would ask him something, and a lie would come out. Well, it wasn't the truth either.

Because Eddie grew up having to lie. His dad told him to lie to the cops. His mom told him to lie to his dad. Wayne told him not to let people know why Eddie was kicked out, that he was a queer. Soon, lying became a part of his performance, and Eddie was always the performer.

But eventually, it got to the pint where he'd panic at the thought of telling the truth in moments when he didn't feel in control. So he'd lie about the most basic things.

Like once Dustin asked what his favorite color was, and without hesitating, Eddie replied, "Forest green." Like sure, green was a nice color, but he always loved red. And he didn't want to be like, "Haha, I was just lying. I like red," so he gave Dustin a smile and continued on.

It never really was a big thing. He could just confuse people later when someone inevitably asked again. However, there were a few things that started to go downhill. He moved in with Wayne and told the older man he was allergic to celery. He wasn't, but he told this huge story that had Wayne believing. So, Wayne went out of his way to make sure he was always good.

Or when Gareth asked if he played anything else and he lied and spun a story of playing piano with his mother. And the time when Mike asked if he was doing okay after the Upside Down and Eddie went off on a tangent about how well he was adjusting. (Although he's sure the kid knew that was a lie)

Anyways, don't yell at him. He knew it was wrong, okay? He just could stop it. And he wished he could when it came to Steve. Steve made him nervous, honestly. He was hot and kind, and he always listened to Eddie. Three perfect qualities. And even better, Eddie had watched him rip a demobat apart with his bare hands. So yeah, if Steve wasn't kind, Eddie would be scared of him, but... Eddie mostly just wants to bite him. (Aka, he has a pathetic crush on him)

And when Eddie got crushes, his anxiety spiked, and so did his lying. Which wasn't going great. Steve asked if he was busy, Eddie spun this story of a trip to Indy with Gareth. Steve asked what his favorite food was, and Eddie said he liked smoothies more than solid food. Steve asked him what the black hanky stood for, and Eddie said how he wanted to be a pirate when he was younger. He asked more and more and Eddie continued to lie.

However, it got really annoying when Robin asked him, as she stood next to Steve if he was a friend of Dorothy's, and Eddie pretended not to know what they were talking about. Even as their expressions dimmed and Eddie continued on like nothing was wrong.

Or when Steve asked if he had his eye on anyone and Eddie's mouth started up while his brain froze. He wasn't exactly sure what he said, but he knew it wasn't that he was gay and in love with him, so....

Eventually, Erica called him out on it. They were watching a movie he lied and said he had never seen before. She looked at him with an annoyed expression on her face. "Why do you do that?"

Everyone looked confused, but Eddie just looked away, "do what?"

She snorted, "Lie."

He tensed up but forced himself to shrug. She didn't look like she bought it. He huffed, and words just spilled out. "Lie? Why would I lie? There's no reason to. Honestly, Lady Applejack, I don't understand why you would-"

"Cut the shit, Edward." She snapped.

"Erica," a chorus sounded from the group, and Eddie winced.

"But you do lie a lot." Dustin said softly, and Eddie felt like he might make a break for it.

"He doesn't lie a lot," Steve said, jumping to his aide. Which made Eddie feel like dying honestly. Robin nodded, but the kids didn't look convinced.

Dustin sat up, "Eddie what's your favorite food?"

And the words just spilled out, "this is ridiculous. I'm not a pathologic liar."

But Nancy was on the scent now. "Then answer the question."

And he would, but he knows he gave each kid a different answer. "So, I have to prove myself you?" He didn't even put any hurt in his tone. No, he was too busy trying not to break down.

"No he does-"

Except Eddie didn't want Steve to defend him. "Don't," he begged, and Steve's eyes widened. "Fuck," he jumped up and stormed out of the living room. He could hear the party, but words seemed to blur together.

His childhood had been ruined because of liars, and he had become one. Now, he'd ruin his future because he became who his parents raised after all. They'd all realize he couldn't help it. That he was just a coward in every way.

"Eddie!" Steve called, and Eddie pulled open his van door, but Steve shoved it shut. "Eddie, I'm sorry they have no -"

Eddie turned towards him and could feel the tears falling. "Stop defending me!" He snapped and watched Steve take a step forward before he faltered. "They're fucking right! Don't you get that! I'm a Liar, Steve!"

Steve finally took the step closer, "It's okay."

Eddie knocked him back, "no its not! I just can't stop it! My mouth moves on its own, and I can help it! My nerves get the best of me, and I say shit like, no, Steve, I'm not gay! I'm completely straight! I'm totally not in love with you! But I'm going to pretend to be busy so I don't have to deal with the anxiety of lying to you day in and day out!"

"Oh," Steve says softly, and Eddi looks away. "You love me?"

Eddie's mouth starts up, "what I didn't -"

Steve covers his mouth, "I've been trying to get a read on you for months. God, you have not been helpful. So I'm just going to say that I like you too. I really do, and I'm like a hair trigger from loving you, honestly. Robin was sure that you weren't straight, but then you monologed about how badass Nancy was and well..." Eddie winced and flushed at the idea of saying Nancy was his type. "You don't have to be scared of us. You're our friend, and we care about you."

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls his hand back. "I'm a terrible person."

Steve snorts, "Nah, you're human. Robin rambles when she's nervous. You lie. I flirt. The holy trinity."

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Oh yeah, a holy trinity."

Steve clears his throat, "So, if I'm not reading this wrong, you'd go on a date with me?"

Eddie nods, "yeah."

"Good."

A Part 2 done by @fairy-princette

[hellcheerficdatabase]

heart begins to beat

Author: makeshiftcandy

Rating/Warning: Explicit, referenced ED

Chapter Count: 11/11

Description:

He ran when she died.

And she killed him in turn.

Vecna is dead. Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson were, too.

Until they weren't.

Tags: Alternate universe- canon compliant, post-canon, fix-it, angst, hurt and comfort, emotional hurt and comfort, Eddie needs a hug, Chrissy needs a hug, slow-burn, smut, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: completed

[silas-brainrot]

Steve wasn’t surprised when the nightmares started coming back again, after going through everything all over again. He had hoped they wouldn’t, of course, but he knew that at this point it was inevitable. After the first time going through fighting Demodogs and watching the kids he cared about so much experience the aftermath of the Upside Down, he had expected it. He had expected to remember the way the sharp teeth of the bats biting into his side and how much it had hurt to resurface in his mind every time he looked down and saw the jagged, uneven, healed over scar marks that stood out like a sore thumb against his otherwise pale skin. He had expected to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat when the mental images of Max and Nancy levitating mid air with their eyes rolled back and their bodies limp and unmoving plagued his unconsciousness mind, with the way the feelings of hopelessness and stomach churning anxiety felt heightened times ten in those moments.

He had expected himself to be on edge and jumping at any noise that even somewhat resembled the sound of that godforsaken clock when the object had gone off around him, the sound always reminding him of the constant ‘what if I’m next?’ that had consumed his thoughts during Vecna, always expecting the worst. Of course, logically, he knew that it was impossible– they had defeated Vecna once and for all, they had all watched it happen with their own eyes, but it still didn’t change a thing for him. And Steve had hated it– had hated how his brain felt like it was constantly only halfway in the present with him, one half attached to his shoulders, and the other up and off in a cloud of mind numbing anxiety and fear, constantly awaiting the other non-existent foot to drop down.

He’s only told one person about these nightmares, and that’s Robin. She had been understanding with him, and had put up with her best friend’s random show ups at her house in the middle of the night, with his hands slightly trembling and his hair a mess from how he had ran his fingers through it in a fruitless attempt to calm himself down. Robin would pull Steve into her door and shut it behind him, only to pull the taller man into her arms and hold him for a few, letting Steve breathe shakily into her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Steve would pretend that he didn’t feel the burning of tears tracking their way down his cheeks as Robin did so— pretend that he didn’t see those images playing in a constant loop behind his eyelids whenever they would fall shut. He would stay the night there afterwards more times than not, finding comfort in the shared experience that the two of them had.

But tonight, Steve couldn’t do that, because Robin was out of town for the weekend to visit some family, and so the brown haired boy was stuck at home, in his all too quiet house, the walls feeling enclosing and unwelcoming to him. The silence seemed to suffocate him with its complete absence of any sounds. No creaks or whines from the structure settling itself, or even just the soothing and repetitive sound of a fan.

It made Steve want to crawl out of his own skin.

He had tried falling back asleep already–had tried all of the bullshit methods he was taught from when he was younger, but none of them worked. His brain was running at a million miles per hour now, and he had himself adjusting his position in bed every two minutes out of discomfort, and it was starting to irritate him.

“Oh, fuck this,” Steve mumbles quietly to himself, throwing his blankets off to the side from his body in an almost perfect triangle, before pushing himself out of bed. He threw his legs over the side of his mattress, resting his elbows on his knees as he laid his head in his hands, running his fingers through his sleep mussed hair, before dragging his hands down across his face in frustration. He had stared at a spot on his floor for a few moments before he willed himself to get up, taking a quick glance at the clock beside his bed and groaning quietly at the glaring red numbers that read 2:30 A.M. back at him.

Once the man had gotten up, he had made his way over to his dresser to throw on the first pair of jeans and shirt that he found, already knowing what he had to do. He grabbed his car keys from on his bedside table, tucking them into his pocket. He made his way down the stairs to the front door carelessly, knowing it wouldn’t matter. Nobody was home, anyways. Nobody ever was. He made his way out, closing and locking the door behind him before he went down the porch stairs, unlocking his car with a press of the button on his keychain, and then getting inside, closing the drivers door afterwards with a quiet thunk. The brown haired boy rested his hands on the wheel in silence for a few, before putting the key into the ignition and pulling out of the driveway.

***

It took about twenty minutes for Steve to arrive at his destination, pulling up to the trailer and shutting his engine off, only for his eyebrows to furrow in confusion when he sees the way the windows of the trailer were glowing a fluorescent yellow, and the telltale signs of a TV being on coming through the glass. He lets out a small ‘huh,’ sound before opening the door to his car and shutting it quietly, locking it up with the press of a button once more, and slowly making his way the distance to Eddie’s front porch, opening the screen door and knocking on the wood behind it. It takes a few moments of Steve standing anxiously in front of the door, his foot tapping a beatless pattern onto the slightly cracked concrete beneath it, for the door to finally open.

Once it does, it exposes Eddie to Steve, his shirt discarded and his hair a mess, like he had just woken up. Steve raises an eyebrow in question, glancing at the man’s exposed torso for the briefest of moments, before looking back up.

“Harrington?” Eddie mumbles out, the man’s honey brown eyes still slightly fogged over with unconsciousness. Steve lets out a strained smile, knowing he probably doesn’t look any better.

“Yeah, hey Munson,” Steve starts off with, speaking once more before Eddie can say a hello back. “Sorry to show up so randomly this late, man- and I’m sorry if I woke you up,” He mumbles, running a hand through his unstyled hair and repressing the sudden need to tap his foot restlessly again.

“No you’re good, man, I was already up anyways,” Eddie reassures with a small, short, closed lip smile. Steve nods, before going to speak once more.

“I was wondering if I could come in and smoke with you, because I have not been able to sleep for shit for the past few days, and I really need to get high,” Steve rushes out, refusing to admit to himself the way that he can feel his cheeks turning just the lightest shade of red in embarrassment.

He doesn’t know why exactly he was nervous– he had been high before, and it wasn’t like this was his first time asking, but he supposes it has to do with the fact that it’s Eddie fucking Munson he was asking. Sure, they had helped save the world together, had gone through all of the same shit, but he was still nervous.

“Yeah, of course, I was already rolling a joint for myself anyways,” He answers with, moving himself to the side enough for Steve to slide in through the door, with Eddie reaching over and closing both doors with a soft click before making his way over to the recliner that he had been sat on before Steve knocked.

He plops himself back down, before going to grab the joint and lighter. He watches from the sides of his eyes as Steve sits himself down on the couch, shooting the taller man a small smile before he places the joint between his index and middle finger, using his free hand to flick on the lighter. Eddie watches as the paper slowly lights and then burns out, leaving behind black, scorched paper, inhaling deeply and feeling an almost immediate sense of relief when the thick smoke places itself in his lungs. He holds it for a few seconds, mentally counting to five before he exhales, eyes tracing the way that the wisps of grayness dance around in the air before diminishing. He tosses the lighter back on to the small table in front of him before reaching over to his side and passing Steve the joint, the brown haired man nodding his thanks as he takes it.

Eddie watches as Steve brings it up to his own mouth and inhales, following the same steps that Eddie himself had just done moments before, and the curly haired man pretends like he isn’t glancing at Steve’s lips.

“Any reason why King Steve himself can’t sleep, oh mighty one?” Eddie asks, managing to keep on his overdramatic and fun front, despite the fact that he can obviously tell that something is bothering the other. Steve lets out a soft sigh in response, blowing out the smoke.

He sits there in silence for a little bit, eyes focused on nothing in particular as he mentally turns over whether he wants to tell Eddie or not. Logically, he knows he probably could– knows that Eddie of all people wouldn’t judge him for having nightmares, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling almost childish. Steve opens his mouth, like he was going to say something, but shuts it back closed almost immediately.

“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to, man. I’m never gonna force you to say anything you don’t wanna,” Eddie reassures when he sees how hesitant the younger man is acting. Steve sighs, before he starts to talk once more.

“No, I know it’s just- I dunno, it seems stupid, I guess,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly, running a hand through his hair once more. Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, only fixes Steve with a patient look, and the younger feels a sliver of thankfulness twirl from inside of his chest at the way that Eddie isn’t trying to rush it out of him.

Steve snatches the joint once more and takes a longer inhale, letting his eyes fall shut as he feels the smoke travel down the back of his throat, before pulling it away and holding, and then exhaling. He lets his body fall back against the back cushion of the couch, a heavy sigh falling from his lips as he focuses his eyes on the ceiling.

“It’s just that uhm- I’ve just been having…nightmares, is all. Of what happened, how it felt, how scared I was for everybody,” Steve says finally, his voice coming out as quiet and small, his fingertips tapping a made up rhythm on to his knee, his teeth coming to nibble on his bottom lip out of nervous habit.

He takes a moment to glance over at Eddie from where the curly haired man sits across from him nervously, though he feels the way the anxiety soothes itself the smallest bit when the only thing he sees in Eddie’s brown doe eyes is patience and understanding, judgment nowhere to be found. Steve sighs silently to himself.

“And it’s just…it’s the same moments just constantly like…it’s almost as if it’s a loop, if that makes any sense? Like the only things I ever remember are watching Nancy and Max levitating, and just how- how scared I was in those moments?” Steve says, noticing the fact that he’s rambling and unable to stop himself from doing so.

“And it’s so stupid because whenever I hear a sound that even barley resembles the goddamned clock, it’s like I’m back there, when he had-” Steve cuts himself off with a shaky breath, trembling hands running through his hair. He wasn’t willing to make himself relive that, no matter how badly he knew he had to talk to somebody about it. He exhales sharply, silently begging the weed to kick in far faster than it is.

“Cause it’s like, I know that it's not happening at that moment, because we literally watched him die, so it’s just…frustrating, I guess,” He finishes off, throwing his head back against the cushion of the sunken couch. He dares to take a glance at Eddie again, expecting him to respond to his ramble.

“I get it, Harrington– that’s what people call PTSD, I’m pretty sure. It’s usually something people form after going through like…a traumatic event, or something? I don’t know, dude. It’s something like that,” Eddie responds with, bringing his fingers from his left hand to fiddle and twist the large rings that line the curly haired man’s right hand.

Steve hadn’t been the only one to be going through this, Eddie wants to say. Wants to admit to the other man that he wasn’t alone in his experience with this shit, but doesn’t. He’s learnt not to open up about shit like that.

“Now that I think about it- why are you up, Munson?” Steve asks, turning his head and body to fully face Eddie’s form. Eddie feels himself go tense at the question, fingers freezing mid twist as he tries to desperately think of how to respond to the taller man.

He doesn't think quick enough, though, because before he can make up some stupid excuse, his brain is already a hundred steps ahead of him, and the only thing he stutters out is an ‘uhm,’ before everything comes rushing forward to the forefronts of his mind, no matter how much the curly haired man had tried to shove it down and not think about it. The image of Chrissy levitating in front of him with her blue eyes rolled so far back into her head that he could only see the whites of them. The deafening sound of bone after bone snapping and crunching from an unseen force echoing around every crevice of his brain tumultuously, the way her jaw had disconnected from its sockets, and then the loud, heavy thud of her dead body hitting the floor.

He doesn’t remember much after that, only the constant tightness of his windpipe, and the way he had been so on edge and paranoid. But the guilt– the guilt had not come until afterwards. When he was hidden underneath the tarp in the wheelbarrow of Reefer Rick’s boathouse, his hands shaking and his entire body trembling as he processed what he had just seen. He had tried to rationalize it, but soon fell short of any way to make it make sense to himself. And that was when he had felt the sudden feeling gnawing at the inside of his throat, a shaking hand coming to cover his mouth as his breathing picked up irregularly. His mind was moving too fast for him to keep up with it, the main thought plaguing his consciousness being: ‘Why didn’t I fucking help? Why did I just run away, like a goddamn coward?’

Then he remembers how terrified he had been when he had watched the small group of people he had grown to have some sort of bond with over the past few days look certain death straight in the face with barely any qualms and hesitation, like they had done it so many times before then. Eddie supposes that they actually had, though, and he envied them. He envied them for the fact that they could be so fearless and selfless, while the only thing Eddie had done his whole life was run away in cowardice. First with his family, his parents, and now this.

Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s zoning out until he hears Steve’s voice filter in through his ears, whipping his head to the side to look at him. Steve looks wary and cautious, and Eddie curses himself internally for it.

“Hey, Munson, you with me?” Steve asks when they make eye contact and Eddie nods tensely.

“Yeah, sorry- Happens when I’m high sometimes, s’all,” Edie says, and he hates the way he knows Steve doesn’t believe him. Curse him and his perfect way of being able to read body language on others.

Steve fixes him with a silent look, keeping his eyes trained on Eddie’s face for a few moments before he forms his lips into a thin line, speaking once more.

“Look man, I’m not the type of person to force anything out of anyone, but I literally just spilt my guts to you, and you’ve got nothing,” Steve jokes out softly, tone light in an attempt to bring the mood up a little, a small smile tugging in the corners of his lips. Eddie lets out a quiet, barely there laugh. Steve still considers it a tiny victory.

“No, yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry dude,” Eddie sighs out, bringing his knees up to the recliner by putting his feet on the faux, peeling leather, resting his arms on top of his knees and starting to fidget with his rings once more. Steve can’t understand how that position could be comfortable– Eddie was basically folded in half with how far back he had pushed his heels inwards.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Steve assures. “And I want you to know that you only have to tell me if you’re chill with it,” He finishes.

“I’m not, but I know I have to talk about it to someone eventually,” He mumbles out quietly, mirroring Steve’s earlier thoughts almost perfectly, the only difference being that Eddie is actually talking about it. The curly haired man clears his throat quietly, making sure to keep his eyes anywhere but on Steve as he fidgets with anything he could.

“Eddie-”

“Steve, stop. I mean it. Before you make me regret spilling my deepest and darkest secret to you, Harrington,” Eddie jokes breathily, using Steve’s actual name for what felt like the first time to the younger man. He smiles a little when Steve puts his hands up in a wordless form of surrender, nodding.

“The same thing as you– just a little different. Still have flashbacks and shit back to whatever the hell it’s called- the Upside Down? And the whole thing with Chrissy, it’s just like, a lot sometimes? If that makes any sense,” He stumbles out messily, groaning quietly to himself in embarrassment.

“I take it back, I don’t wanna do this anymore– can we just get high off our asses now?” Eddie asks, tone half joking as the words fall from his mouth. His foot is starting to bounce again, the anxiety pooling inside of his chest making him restless. He wanted to continue talking about this; wanted to let Steve know that he wasn’t alone, and Eddie felt as if he at least owed him that.

He lets out a loud huff of air, tossing his head back to face the ceiling of the trailer, eyes landing unwantedly on to the blacked out crack that runs along the expanse of it, bringing a hand to run through his hair as he mentally hypes himself up to do this. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what had happened– not any of the people who he went through it with, or his uncle. He had kept it close to his chest, deciding to try his hardest to shove the unwanted feelings and intrusive thoughts so far down into his head that he would forget about them completely. He knew it wasn’t healthy to do to himself, but he had validated it by telling himself that it’s what he’s done his whole life, so what's the difference in doing it again? He inhales once more, before continuing, making sure to keep his eyes to the ceiling.

“And I don't know, I guess it just triggered something else inside my brain, after going through all that. I don’t really know how else to like…explain it. It just made some other unpleasant memories come to the surface is all, Harrington,” Eddie finishes, leaning down to grab at his pipe once more, lighting the plant and inhaling for longer than he would usually do, trying to shut off the flashes of images he had blocked out of his head as he did so, breathing out the smoke once more.

His mom, drunk out of her head and asking little Eddie for another beer, a fresh bruise decorating the side of her face as Eddie had nodded obliviously at her request.

His father, sick as all hell but still managing to get his sorry ass out of bed to yell and shout at Eddie and his mother, his hand swinging wildly at everything and nothing until it landed on something: Eddie, his mom.

And Eddie had hated her for the longest time as he grew a little older– old enough to understand what was happening to him at home wasn't normal. Old enough to fight back when he had to, old enough to finally confront his mom about why they hadn’t up and left his dad already. The only response he would get each time would be “Because he loves us, Eds– just in a different way.”

And Eddie had remembered the moment had been pulled out of that hellhole to come and move in with Wayne. He hadn’t been used to it at first– he was unfamiliar and snappy to him, was downright rude and disrespectful, but Wayne had been patient with him still. He had let himself fall victim to Eddie’s sometimes sporadic anger episodes, never once raising his hands or voice to the curly haired man. Eddie hadn’t been able to fully understand just how much Wayne had to go through with him when he was younger, not until recently but he was incredibly thankful for him. He had said it to him too, the other night, when he had trudged his way into their shitty trailer together, and they had just hugged for a few moments, before he made his way to their bathroom to shower.

Then Eddie was snapped back into the present by a gentle, light hand resting on his shoulder. He had snapped his head over to look at Steve, who was now standing next to him with a small, understanding smile. Eddie had let out an exhale of relief once he realized where he was again, passing the pipe over to Steve. He watches as the brown haired man takes another hit, holding it in for a few moments before letting it out.

Steve feels an annoying nag in his stomach at the fact that there’s nothing he can do to help Eddie, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he thinks over what to say in response. He takes his hand back to rest it on his hip as he taps against it mindlessly, trying to pull something out.

“Like I said, Eddie– I’m always gonna be there if you like, ever need to rant or something, man. But I’m never going to force you to say anything that you aren’t comfortable with saying, or… whatever,” He mumbles the last part to himself sheepishly, his hand coming to rub at the back of his neck nervously, looking everywhere in the trailer but Eddie’s eyes, until they meet.

“ ‘Or whatever,’ “ Eddie quotes back, using his fingers to quote Steve, changing the sound of his voice in a terrible impersonation. “Real articulately said, Harrington– Feel like I can trust you with everything now. What’s next, whether I like AC/DC or Metallica more?” He jokes, letting out a laugh when his response is met with a hard hit to his arm, and a grumbling Steve to follow behind it.

“I was trying to be nice to you, Munson!” He exclaims, faux annoyance oozing from his tone as he tries to play it off realistically. The small tilt from the corner of Steve’s lips betrays him and his act, though.

Eddie places the pipe and lighter back down on the table in front of him, pushing himself from the recliner to make his way over to his record collection on the other side of the room, shuffling through its continents, before letting out a small nose of triumph once he finds the one he was searching for. He puts it on, and Steve isn’t able to catch the band or album title,but he doesn’t really care much. He would be happy with anything that the older man decided to put on, just as long as he didn’t have to suffer through watching the frankly, absolutely terrifying look of blankness that had overcome Eddie’s otherwise expressive, brown eyes.

Steve had always heard that the eyes were the mirror to one's soul, and he couldn't think it could be more true than when it comes to Eddie Munson. Sure, the man was flamboyant and had a flair for the dramatic, (Steve had witnessed that himself first hand when Dustin had forced him to come to a Hellfire Club meeting at some point. Steve had been entertained, and the man hadn’t even known a thing that was going on in the game) but Steve could tell when the older was frightened or scared, just by the furrow of his brow. He could tell when he was getting excited over something just by a certain twinkle he got in his eyes before he launched into explaining what it was he was excited for.

So it had scared Steve shitless when he had suddenly seen them so devoid and empty, almost clouded overas Eddie’s mind wandered to places the younger of the two guessed to be less than pleasant. It had felt like a small jab of a needle to his heart when Eddie finally did come back to him, only for the doe eyes in front of him to be crowded with fear and anxiety.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s staring.

“You’re staring,” Eddie murmurs quietly out into the air between them, the two of them both standing only a small width apart from the other. His eyes are searching for Steve’s, and when they meet, Steve decidedly ignores the way his stomach feels as if it’s suddenly filled with a million butterflies angrily flapping their wings all together.

“Sorry Munson I-”

“No,”

Steve fixes him with a confused glance, cocking his head to the side.

“Eddie. My name is Eddie.” He says quietly, and Steve nods, though the reaction is delayed in the slightest.

“Right, I’m sorry Eddie, I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything it’s just that I- '' Steve starts, only to cut himself off before he says something weird, or creepy. I mean, how would you feel if one of your guy friends just casually dropped the fact that they were staring at your eyes?!

“You what?” He asks, gently.

“I was just… I was thinking, that’s all, I just kind of zoned off in my own head and-” He goes to say, only to get cut off by Eddie’s voice.

“God if you’re listening, please, please, don’t let me be reading this wrong,” Eddie mumbles out to himself quietly before he’s making his way across the living room in quick strides. Then he’s directly in front of Steve’s face, and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t flushing with the distance.

“Steve, why were you staring? Be honest this time, you’re actually the absolute shittiest liar ever,” Eddie says, joking lightly. Steve huffs in annoyance.

“No I’m not,”

“No you really, really are,”

Steve glares at him, before bringing his eyes downwards, fingers tapping against himself once more, wherever they can reach.

“I just- you-” He inhales deeply.

“I was scared, I guess. You were like, gone like, you weren’t here anymore, and your eyes they-” He cuts himself off with a frustrated groan. He probably sounds so fucking weird. Curse Eddie fucking Munson.

“Your eyes were like– empty, I wanna say? Or clouded over? I don’t know how else to explain it. And it scared me, because you usually have really expressive eyes, and then they weren't anymore and it scared me because I thought ‘What if he came back? What if he isn’t actually dead, and he got Eddie?’ And it scared me shitless, man, I’m not gonna lie to you and-”

Steve’s nervous ramblings are cut off by a soft mouth over his own. He squeaks into the brief kiss before Eddie pulls away, and this close up, Steve can so obviously see traces of anxiety laying in the brown, honeyed depths of Eddie’s eyes. The younger blinks stupidly at the other.

“I had to shut your rambling up somehow, Harrington,” Eddie jokes.

“Steve. My name is Steve,” He says, mirroring Eddie’s words from earlier. That’s all he says before he’s pushing himself forward, both of his hands coming to cup each side of the curly haired boy’s face.

It’s Eddie’s turn to make a surprised noise, but he lets himself sink into the feeling of finally kissing Steve fucking Harrington. One of his own hands goes to rest at the side of Steve’s face, the other coming around to cup the back of his neck, holding him in place as they continue. He feels Steve laugh softly into the kiss, causing Eddie to pull back from it with a raised eyebrow.

“What could King Steve possibly be laughing about right now, oh mighty one?” Eddie says with a small smirk, awaiting a response.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just that– what the hell do you think my high school self would say if I told him that in like, two years, he’d be kissing Eddie “The Freak” Munson in his trailer after getting high with him?” He snorted out gently, causing Eddie to smile as well.

“He’d probably call the cops or something, let's be honest here,” Eddie supplied helpfully, and Steve nodded.

“Yes, hi, 911, there's a nutcase in front of my house right now. Please come and detain him,” He mocks his older self, laughing a bit more loudly. God, this feels surreal right now. He knows that he and Eddie are going to have to sit down tomorrow, when they’re both sober, and talk about it in depth. But for now, he thinks he can let himself just enjoy it.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Harrington.”

And so he does.

fin.

[that-ineffable-devil]

Rainbow in the Dark | Prologue & Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Author's Note: I haven't written creatively in over 10 years and I was a different person then, so I hope this isn't completely terrible. Chapters will alternate between characters' POVs, but will stick mostly with Eddie and Steve. There will be smut, but it'll be a while--I'll be sure to leave a note on those particular chapters...for science. All readers, likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated!

Fic Summary: An exploration into our favorite disaster-dorks, what makes them tick, why they are who they are, and how they fall head over heels for each other. We'll dive into their early parental relationships and then likely skip to S4 to add some "missing scenes" and motivations. There will be angst, but there will be a happy ending, because our boys deserve happy and soft and smutty things.

Prologue

Every child’s first lesson is in what not to do. Don’t touch the stove when it’s hot. Don’t run into the street. Don’t hold your cup that way. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Most of these lessons are given with love, with the safety of the child in mind. Touching a hot stove burns you; a car may run into you on the street; you may spill your drink on yourself if you mishandle your cup.

But not all lessons are taught out of love. Some come from a darker, less kind place.

Chapter One: The Punching Bag

Eddie’s first lesson was simple: “Don’t be yourself.”

Don’t fidget—even if your body feels like it will combust if you don’t move. Don’t speak—unless an adult asks you a direct question. Don’t make noise—even if it brings you solace. Don’t exist unless we want you to, and only how we want you to.

Eddie’s father was his first teacher, and he never let Eddie forget that there was something fundamentally flawed in him. Deficient. Unworthy. He truly tried to follow his father’s instruction, but he struggled to identify when behaviors were good or bad—especially when it could depend on specific circumstances.

For example, speaking to his father without being asked a question was bad behavior, and resulted in punishment. But if his father asked a question he didn’t actually want Eddie to answer, and he did—more punishment. It could even be a question he’d asked and wanted an answer to before. It wasn’t until he started school that he learned there was more to language than the words people spoke.

Social cues and body language were a mystery to him, though he eventually started picking it up out of self-preservation. And then he was expected to decode the tone of voice a person was using. Why couldn’t people just say what they meant, instead of expecting him to recognize and interpret this secret code no one had ever taught him? It was hard enough for him to process words as they were spoken, why did he have to devote so much energy into picking up things said without words? Most people—including his father—were fluent in these coded messages. When Eddie asked his father to help him understand them, he learned another lesson—do not, under any circumstances, ask that man for help.

Another of his father’s lessons was that “children should be seen and not heard;” he said it often when Eddie was being punished for speaking out of turn. Through experience, he learned that sometimes he shouldn’t even be seen—even if his father specifically called his name. But if his father expected him to be somewhere and he wasn’t—also unacceptable. Eddie often wondered how anyone could do anything while navigating this absolute minefield of expectations. It seemed unfair—impossible, even.

Eddie’s mother taught him something as well—people leave. Even the ones that are supposed to love you. He didn’t have any real memories of her—just flashes of dark curly hair and warm smiles—but his father often acted as though it were Eddie’s fault she had gone. Eddie couldn’t even defend himself since he didn’t even remember her leaving—only her absence in his life.

So, Eddie reasoned, it must be his fault. She had been with his father until he came along, so he must have driven her away somehow. He would cry late at night, remembering every mistake he’d ever made, trying to tally up all the reasons his mother couldn’t love him enough to stay.

But crying, it turned out, was yet another bad behavior. Tears resulted in harsh punishment, and the more he cried, the longer it lasted. His father told him that it was the only way to “fix” him—that he wouldn’t have a “queer” in his house. In an act that Eddie could only describe as desperate stupidity, he once asked once what he meant by “queer.” The resulting punishment convinced him he didn’t need to know. Eventually, Eddie stopped crying altogether.

School wasn’t much better than home for Eddie. He often felt that everyone else had met and become friends before he came along, making him the unwelcome outsider. He was wary and reserved—unable to hide the unnervingly haunted look behind his brown eyes. He couldn’t understand how all the other kids got away with being so loud and disrespectful, how the teachers would give only a mild tut when notes passed hands and giggles went unstifled. This world was alien to him, and he was alien to it.

Though he was typically quiet, his teachers often reprimanded him for his “lack of focus,” and removed points from his grades if he doodled in the margins of his papers. He’d tried to explain that the doodles helped him listen, but no one believed him. After one too many altercations with his father over his poor grades, he stopped doodling, but then he found it too difficult to pay attention with still hands.

He started drumming his fingers to the beat of whatever song came to mind during class, which somehow helped sharpen his focus, but his teachers found that disruptive as well. He was sent to the principal’s office for “class misconduct” and “distracting behavior.”

Eddie nodded along with the principal; his eyes unfocused with the effort of preventing the tears threatening to well up. Why was everything so difficult for him? What was wrong with him? What would his father do when he found out he’d been sent to the principal? Well, he knew the answer to that one.

Eventually, he withdrew into himself during class, wrapping his arms around his torso to prevent any inadvertent movement from drawing a teacher’s ire. Forcing his eyes to follow the teachers as they lectured, he would play music in his head until given an assignment to complete. It seemed to work, since he was no longer sent out of class and his teachers left him alone, but it left him vulnerable when called on unexpectedly. It was the best he could muster.

The other students weren’t any kinder. Though he tried to ignore it, he knew they whispered about him behind his back. They snickered at his ill-fitting clothing, his beat-up backpack, his nearly-bald buzzcut performed at home by unskilled hands. His father wouldn’t shell out his hard-earned money for Eddie to get “some girly-boy haircut” by a professional. Eddie just thought if the kids would take a moment to get to know him, maybe they’d stop talking about him and talk to him instead. Maybe they’d even become friends.

But making friends didn’t come easy to Eddie. Any time he tried, the girls would either ignore him or talk loudly about him as if he weren’t there, and the boys hurled words so sharp and pointed, they felt like stinging barbs hooking into his flesh. Sometimes, they’d trip him on the playground or throw rocks at him from afar. But he kept trying, hoping someone would see him, and not the stories everyone told about him.

One fateful day, he approached a group of boys from the school’s peewee football league as they stood in a loose circle beside the main building. They weren’t wearing their uniforms, but Eddie recognized their ringleader—taller and bulkier than the rest, as though he grew twice as fast. Eddie tried to join in as they burst into laughter at something one of them said, but the laughter died as suddenly as it had erupted—the group staring blankly at him.

“Hey freak, who invited a fag like you to the conversation?” the ringleader asked.

“Oh…uh,” Eddie spluttered, “n…no one invited me, I just…I thought that was a funny joke…a…and…”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

The boy’s toothy grin was so sharp, Eddie imagined his teeth as tiny daggers preparing to shred him to ribbons.

“Want to see something else funny?”

Eddie’s ears burned as he felt the air grow hot, the tension rising rapidly among the group. Several of them flicked their eyes at each other, all adopting the same sharp grin, while two glanced furtively outside the group, looking for any watchful adults. There were none.

Eddie hesitated, slowly lifting his heel as he prepared to back away. “N…” he started, but before he could finish the word, one of them had kicked his legs out from under him, sending him face first into the hard cement.

Without hesitation, the entire pack dove in to claim their pound of flesh. Though every instinct in him told him to cry out, only a few grunts escaped him as a dozen fists and feet slammed into his stomach and back, already flowered with unseen purple and blue bruising from home. He tried to keep his face covered, knowing that he’d face far worse at home if his father found out he’d lost a fight. Not that this is a fight, he thought. It’s an execution.

He didn’t know how long he'd been on the ground when he heard something big crack heavily into bone before one of his tormentors joined him on the ground with a loud thud. He slowly realized the attacks against him had stopped, too. Eyes bleary with unshed tears and his breath hitched and pained, Eddie dared to uncover his face to look at the scene above.

Another group of boys had seemingly come to his rescue, menacingly brandishing wooden bats, switchblades, and what Eddie thought looked like a tire iron. His tormentors fled, leaving their fallen comrade to his fate. No loyalty amongst jocks, he thought idly as he watched them run. The boy with the tire iron bent over Eddie, his amber eyes alive with concern.

“Are you all right? Can you get up?” the boy said quietly while holding out his hand.

Eddie’s eyes traced down the boy’s arm to his open hand, blinking slowly.

“B…both good questions,” he murmured, holding one hand to his aching head and wincing when his sides screamed as he started to sit up. “But I think the answer to both is yes,” he continued before grasping the hand of the other boy.

“I’m Luke,” the boy said.

His long, dark hair hung like a curtain over the left side of his face, a kind smile warming his otherwise pale features. He gently pulled Eddie to his feet.

“I’m…Eddie,” he replied, staring stoically at the ground, still fighting the threat of tears and not wanting to appear even weaker in front of the other boys. “I…thank you…but…why?”

Luke chuckled a bit, causing Eddie to look up at his now bittersweet smile—like the sun on a cloudy day.

“Us freaks have got to stick together, right?”

Eddie huffed a small laugh and nodded—immediately regretting it as his head rang with the movement. After that day, Eddie was never completely alone. The boys were inseparable—if you spotted one, it was likely at least two more were somewhere nearby. These were his people, his freaks, and he’d never been more thankful for a beatdown in his life.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Post Notes: Poor Eddie--he deserves so much better. It'll get better before it gets worse, then better again. This is Eddie we're talking about--dude is on an unending rollercoaster he didn't volunteer for but ended up riding anyway.

I know this Eddie seems far too reserved and quiet for our boy, but give him a chance to experience his first taste of freedom in Hawkins--where, for once, someone just lets him be.

Chapter 2 Preview: The "picture-perfect" Harringtons are anything but, with a father who sees his son as a means to an end, a mother who has long forgotten what it's like to give comfort or be comforted, and a son who just wants his parents to love him. Despite his best efforts, Steve Harrington can't seem to live up to his father's exceedingly high standards. He struggles with his schoolwork and reading, but at least he has sports--and his best friend, Tommy Hagan.

But when Steve needs help with a literature assignment, he finds help in the unlikeliest of people.

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

[stevebabey]

Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 01/08 // second chance

wc: 2.7k // rating: M // cw: mild language, references to sexual content // tags: angst with a hopeful ending, miscommunication, eddie makes some questionable (bad) decisions, post-s4 but vecna died, protective robin buckley

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Woah, hey, no. Absolutely not.”

Eddie is being shoved in the chest by someone before he can even register the sharp anger in their voice.

“Wait, wait, Rob, just—”

“No!” Robin smacks him on the chest after successfully pushing him back out the door of Family Video. “You do not get to see him.”

“Robin, please—”

The bell jingles as the door swings shut, and Robin is still pushing him off the curb and into the parking lot. “No, Eddie. You’ve hurt him enough, I’m not letting you do it again.”

There’s a fire in her eyes that lets Eddie know she’s more than serious, and willing to do a lot more than just shove him out the door. He holds his hands up and steps back in surrender, no doubt looking as pathetic as he feels. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m not coming in! I just…”

“Just what?” Robin crosses her arms across her chest, looking at Eddie like he’s the scum of the earth. Maybe he is. He feels like it.

Eddie sighs and anxiously pulls at his hair. His stomach rolls with nerves. “I just wanna talk to him.”

Robin scoffs and looks off to the side, understandably skeptical of his intentions.

“I know! I know, I fucked up!”

“You—” Robin cuts herself off, her sharp gaze returning to him. He flinches at the anger in it. “Do you? Do you actually know?”

“I…” Eddie had only assumed, by the way his last conversation with Steve had ended, the way all his calls had been avoided, minus the one where Robin had answered and swiftly delivered the message to never contact her best friend ever again. He had only assumed it was bad bad. “I… didn’t know.” He finishes weakly.

“And the fact that he told you—”

“I was scared!” Eddie cuts her off. “Can you blame me?”

“Yeah, I can, actually.” Robin’s tone is harsh. Eddie knows he deserves it. “After everything you’ve been through with him, after everything you know, and to just run off like that?”

Her words sting, and Eddie can’t help but hang his head in shame. “I know, Robin. But I was wrong!”

Robin scoffs again, eyes narrowed. “And it only took you, what, a week to figure that out?”

“No! No. I regretted it as soon as I left, but I…” Eddie exhales heavily. “I still—I was still scared.” The venom in Robin’s expression doesn’t change. “Please, Rob, I wanna be with him. He’s gotta give me another chance.”

“Okay, let’s get a couple of things straight.” Robin raises a finger. “One, Steve doesn’t have to do anything.” She raises another. “Two, if, and that’s a big if, he decides to give you another chance, you better be for real, Munson. I will kill you myself if you hurt him again.”

“I am! Rob, I swear, I wouldn’t’ve come back if I wasn’t. I…” Eddie hesitates for a second. Pulls on his hair again. His heart pounds wildly in his chest. “I love him, Robin.”

Robin assesses him, eyes narrowed, trying to see if he’s serious. Eddie tries to hold her gaze, hoping she sees his sincerity. Whether she sees that, or the bags under his eyes from not having slept at all the past week, or the fact that he’s begging with everything he has in him, she seems to accept it.

“Fine. But you will not do this during work. At least let him finish his shift in peace before you come and blow everything up.” Robin turns swiftly and starts walking back to the shop, not waiting to hear anything more from him.

Eddie fumbles for his cigarettes and lighter, fingers trembling as he walks back to his van. That could've gone better, he thinks. Could've gone worse too. Taking a couple deep drags, smoke filtering out with the shudder of his breath, he wills his heart to settle down. He had time to kill now. If he had to wait until the end of Steve’s shift, he would wait.

“I love you, Eddie.”

Steve’s soft voice came from above where Eddie was resting on Steve’s chest. It made him freeze, hand idly playing with Steve’s chest hair stilled. It sounded like Steve said… but no. That couldn’t be right. This… thing, this friendship, Eddie guessed he would call it, that he and Steve had been doing since all the end-of-the-world stuff, had definitely turned into something different. Yes, Eddie had very recently had Steve’s cock in his mouth. But they were still just friends, right?

The first couple of months were average enough, as far as trauma bonding friendships went. Just being there for each other, working through nightmares and panic attacks and pain flare ups. But as they healed and moved on, Eddie found himself and Steve hanging out just for the sake of hanging out.

And then there was the flirting. Eddie started it, he knows he did. A little call back to the “big boy” comment from the RV. He’d watched as Steve’s cheeks flushed a faint pink at the pet name, and found himself wanting to see it more and more. To his surprise, Steve started flirting back, catching Eddie off guard and having him hide behind his hair, cheeky smile peeking through the curls. It just seemed to be a… thing they did. It was normal to flirt with your friends.

It culminated in a night where, after sharing a joint and drinking some beers, Steve leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips. Sweet, slow, romantic. Eddie reciprocated with heat and desire. Steve had laughed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and pulling him into his lap. They ended the night asleep in Steve’s bed, wrapped up in each other, exhausted after the bliss of touching and tasting each other. Eddie left the morning after with a shy wave from Steve. It happened again and again, the taste of Steve’s skin, the warmth of his hands on Eddie’s waist, the feeling of his chest hair between Eddie’s fingers, finding pleasure in each other’s touch, all becoming familiar.

Eddie thought he knew what this was. He thought they were just messing around, just having fun. The idea of being with Steve, in any capacity beyond this, was so laughable to Eddie, he refused to even think about it. There were moments where Eddie almost thought Steve liked him as more than a friend, but he quickly shoved them down. Pushed them deep into the recesses of his mind where he wouldn’t have to think about it. He knew Steve was just an affectionate guy. And it would never happen, so why even think about it? Eddie would just enjoy what they had. It was enough. He told himself over and over. It was enough.

But then Steve said…

“Wh-what?” Eddie managed to stutter, still frozen in shock.

Steve’s hand trailed down Eddie’s spine. “I know that it’s early, and you don’t—you don’t have to say it back. But I don’t wanna waste time. Almost lost you once. I wanna be with you, Eddie. I love you.”

Eddie’s mind sluggishly takes in what he’s hearing. When it finally catches up, he sits up so swiftly, Steve jerks back on reflex. Eddie sees the soft concern in Steve’s eyes, and suddenly his heart is pounding in his ears and he feels like he can’t breathe. Steve reaches out, back of his hand about to caress Eddie’s jaw.

“No! No, no, no, no, no.” Eddie jumps up, very aware of his own nudity.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Steve sits up, hands out like he’s placating a wild animal. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Eddie can feel himself panicking, but can’t seem to stop it. “You just said you love me?” He can’t help the incredulity in his tone, the very idea so insane to him.

Steve’s confusion seeps into his voice. “I… I do?”

“No, you don’t,” Eddie argues instantly.

“What are you…? Eddie, what is this?” Steve’s eyes are widened with hurt, head shaking slightly. Eddie can see that he wants to reach out, but is holding back.

Frantically looking for his clothes, Eddie’s hands shake. “You—you’re just confused.” He finds his pants and yanks them on, not looking at Steve. “You don’t love me, you’re just… this is just…” Eddie trails off, looking for his shirt.

“Eddie, Eddie, look at me,” Steve pleads, fear starting to lace into the concern. “This is real, I do love you.”

Eddie refuses to look at him as he quickly pulls on his shirt, searching for his boots. “No, no, you don’t. I can’t Steve, I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” Steve finally stands up, trying to catch his eye.

Exhaling heavily, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, before looking up at Steve and seeing the pain in his. “I can’t let myself believe that.”

Steve takes a step back, looking as though Eddie had pushed him. He sees the shutdown happen, the way Steve is suddenly closed off, pulling away, grief barely concealed as he averts his gaze. Unable to stand the expression on Steve’s face anymore, Eddie grabs his boots and runs out the door. He keeps running until he gets to his van, throwing himself inside and slamming on the accelerator, not daring to look back.

He doesn’t ease up until he’s halfway back to the trailer park and feeling like his chest might explode with the quick, panicked breaths he’s taking. Eddie pulls the van off to the side of the road and hits the brakes, body jolting with the force of the stop. The conversation with Steve replays in his mind on a loop. He forces himself to take a deep breath but the look on Steve’s face in his mind’s eye makes him choke on it. Eddie finally calms down enough to stare blankly through the windshield, and he asks himself what the hell he just did.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of his van, Eddie’s hands tap on the steering wheel, jittery with anxiety. The clouds grow dark overhead. Steve’s shift ends in a couple of hours, but Eddie didn’t want to leave in case he left early. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about cornering Steve at work, but he wouldn’t take his calls, and he was sure that if Steve didn’t intend to hear him out, Buckley would have come to tell him by now.

With half an hour left of Steve’s shift, Eddie opens the door to his van and swings his legs out, his last cigarette in hand. Keeping his eyes trained on the door, he waits for the last few customers to file out. He sees Buckley flip the door sign to ‘Closed’, catch his eye, roll hers, and disappear back into the store. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, waiting to see if Steve would appear, or if Buckley would come out to tell him to piss off for good.

After several agonising minutes, the door swings open slowly and Steve steps out. Eddie had never seen him look so… wary. So closed off. Not since they’d been friends. Steve catches his gaze, and Eddie watches the hurt flash briefly in his eyes before being quickly hidden. Buried deep down somewhere Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it. An impassive mask taking its place.

“Hey…” Eddie starts softly. “Can we talk?”

Steve only raises his brows and gestures vaguely between them. Eddie figures it’s as much approval as he was going to get. He tosses the butt of his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it as he hops down from the van seat, shutting the door behind him. He takes a few slow steps towards Steve, who still only regards him with caution. Eddie rubs his hands down his jeans, trying to still the trembling. Tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. Finally, he decides to sit on the curb a few steps away from Steve. He looks out and takes in the grey sky. Weirdly fitting. After a few moments, Steve sighs and sits down, leaving a bit of space between them.

Eddie, hunched over his knees, turns his head to look over at him. Steve looks straight ahead, but Eddie could see the darkness under his eyes, the overall flatness of his expression. It made Eddie ache to realise he caused it. He couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that Steve wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m… so sorry, Steve.”

Steve scoffs, still not looking at him. Still unreadable.

“I mean it, Steve, really.” Eddie continues to stare, hoping (and scared) that Steve might turn his head. “I just—I panicked. I didn’t think you’d ever—”

“I get it,” Steve cuts him off sharply. “You thought we were just messing around. It’s fine. I don’t, y’know, need to hear your reasoning. For why you don’t feel the same way.”

“No! That’s not it at all.” Eddie tries to keep his voice calm, but the wobble gives him away. “I mean, yeah, I did think we were just messing around but I… I thought the idea of you wanting more than that was, y’know… crazy.” His hands continue to shake as he gestures vaguely.

Steve finally turns to him, only to give him a look that was equal parts hurt, confused, and honestly quite harsh. “What? Because King Steve could never be capable of love?”

“No, Steve, of course you’re capable of love, I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it.” It takes everything in Eddie not to reach out and take Steve’s hands in his. “I just. I didn’t think you’d ever love me.”

The silence sits heavy between them for several long moments.

Steve closes his eyes, his tone is measured. “I told you I loved you—”

“I know, and I didn’t believe you.”

“And you ran away.” Steve continues as though Eddie hasn’t spoken, looking back to him. “You told me I was confused.” The hurt returns with full force in Steve’s eyes, the slight green in them shining with it. “You said you couldn’t let yourself believe it. That I could love you.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Eddie’s voice cracks. “I’m so, so sorry. For all of it. I hurt you, and I wish I could take it all back. I was just… scared. Terrified. To believe it. I thought I was protecting myself. That if I let myself believe you, it would hurt too much when the rug was pulled out from under me. But I was wrong. So wrong. Nothing hurts more than knowing I hurt you, and I know you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it, and…”

Steve just waits, tears shining in his eyes but not spilling over. It breaks Eddie’s heart all over again to see how much pain he’s caused. He meets Steve’s gaze with as much bravery as he can muster.

“And… I love you, Steve. I do, I love you so much. I don’t wanna be without you.”

Steve closes his eyes at Eddie’s words, turning away from him, brow furrowed. Tears trail down his cheek and settle at his jawline. “I don’t… think I can trust you.” Steve’s words are slow and thick. Measured.

Eddie feels the knife twist in his heart. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he continues. “I… I get it. I do. But I’m asking—begging you to give me another chance. Please, Steve. I’ll spend every single day proving it to you, until you can trust me again.”

Steve peeks over at him, wary. “Every single day?”

“For the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes,” Eddie promises. “I swear it. I love you, Steve.”

Eddie holds his breath, throat tight, and blinks away his own tears. Expression unreadable, Steve looks at him for a long moment, carefully considering Eddie’s words. Tentatively, Eddie reaches out towards Steve’s hand, leaving enough distance for him to decide. Steve slowly takes his hand and grips it tightly. He lets their joined hands hang between them, before finally whispering, “Okay.”

[kenneth-black]

Does it ever drive you crazy…

…just how fast the night changes?

[meep-meep-richie]

on call or not; he's here

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot

It was only supposed to be a warning shot.

Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.

It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.

Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.

Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…

Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.

He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.

“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”

Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.

There is a fucking hole in his hand.

And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.

He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.

And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.

Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.

Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.

They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.

Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.

Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.

So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.

They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.

Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.

Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.

He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:

Monsters are real.

He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.

He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.

So he does.

Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.

Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.

He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.

So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.

Holy shit, it was working.

Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.

That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.

Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.

The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.

Everything was still.

It was over.

Or was it?

TBC…

Next chapter —>

[steveseddie]

limited time offer

steddie | rated: t | wc: 2,3 k | tags: vol. 2 missing scene, pre-relationship, eddie munson needs a hug, hurt/comfort

click here to read on ao3

Steve starts doing headcounts. 

After what happened with Max at the cemetery, Steve starts going over a list of names in his head, checking off each of his friends once he makes sure they haven’t been taken by Vecna- like ticking off boxes on a very fucked up grocery list.

He starts with Max every time. By now she has probably noticed the way his eyes constantly dart to her or the way he visibly relaxes when he notices the headphones still hanging from her neck, but at least she hasn’t said anything about it. 

Next is Nancy- the sight of her eyes rolled back into her head still too vivid in Steve’s mind. Then is Robin, Henderson, the Sinclairs-

After Skull Rock, Steve adds Eddie’s name to the list. He doesn’t know if they can be considered friends yet but he is part of their group now and Steve isn’t letting anyone else from his group almost die again at the hands of Vecna.

It’s only been a few minutes since Steve last did one of his headcounts- sitting outside the RV making homemade bombs.

But as the battle draws closer, Steve grows more and more anxious about losing one of his friends so after toasting to killing Vecna slash Henry slash One, Steve’s eyes roam the field where they’re preparing for battle while going over the list in his head.

Max and Nancy sawing off shotguns. Check. 

Robin pouring gasoline into a bottle. Check. 

The Sinclairs building spears. Check. 

Eddie and Dustin building shields- and sparring? Check. 

Steve breathes a little easier after that. 

His eyes linger on the last pair. He can’t hear what Eddie is telling Dustin but he can see the way they’re both smiling. 

That is until Dustin turns his attention back to his shield and Eddie’s face crumbles, his smile disappearing completely as his expression turns anxious and terrified. Steve watches as he takes a few shuddering breaths, his hands flexing at his sides. Even from a distance, Steve can tell they’re shaking. 

Steve sighs. He knows how hard it is- being hurled into this interdimensional monster fighting bullshit. This is Steve’s fourth time dealing with it and he can’t say that it gets any easier. And for his first time, Eddie already had it worse than any of them. He’s been alone for most of it and he also has people coming after him on top of everything. 

This whole time Steve has been waiting for him to snap, for him to say fuck it and run off, for him to start screaming or crying but he hasn’t done any of that. He’s still here- scared shitless but here, trying to put on a brave face. And Steve knows all about that so he can see right through Eddie’s act. What he doesn’t know is what to do about it. If this was one of the kids or Robin or even Nancy, Steve would know but he hardly knows Eddie and he doesn’t know what he needs. 

He looks like he needs a hug. Steve saw Eddie’s face when Henderson hugged him at Skull Rock, the relief written all over it. When the kid pulled back, Steve felt the urge to walk up to Eddie and hug him next, even if the only contact they’d had at that point was when Eddie pinned against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck.

Steve wanted to hug him again in the Upside Down- every time Eddie flinched or curled in on himself when Demobats screeched in the distance or lightning painted the sky red, but Steve was half-naked, covered in blood and goo and he didn’t think Eddie would appreciate any of that. 

He wanted to hug Eddie at Max’s house- trap his hands between their chests so he would stop running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing his hands down his face, aggressively wringing his fingers together so hard his knuckles cracked, but Eddie might’ve punched him for doing it in front of everyone when he’s supposed to be cool and metal.

He doesn’t look cool or metal right now. He looks on the verge of tears and Steve is shaking with how badly he wants to walk over there and hug him, tell him that everything will be okay but Steve has a job to do. 

They all do. 

Eddie seems to realize it at the same time. After one last shaky breath, he goes back to his shield, leaving Steve with no choice but to turn back to Robin and focus on his own task. 

***

It’s not until they’re getting ready to leave that Steve does another headcount. 

Max and Erica are inside the Winnebago, loading it up with weapons and supplies.

Nancy and Robin are going over the stages of their plan to make sure they thought of everything.

Sinclair and Henderson are trying the walkies, checking the batteries and making sure they’re on the right channel.

Eddie is-

Steve frowns, his eyes roaming the field one, two, three times but he still doesn’t see Eddie anywhere. 

Panic starts bubbling up inside him at the thought of anything happening to Eddie. 

Don’t go there, Steve tells himself. Maybe Eddie needed to take a piss and went to find a tree somewhere. Maybe he just needed a minute away from everyone.

Or maybe Vecna got to him. Maybe it’s already too late and Eddie is the fourth victim and all they did was for nothing.

He tries to remain calm as he looks for Eddie but his heart is beating frantically. He checks inside the RV first and when he realizes he isn’t there, he goes around it, planning to go into the woods next if he doesn’t find him there either. 

But he does- he finds him crouching on the ground with his back against the RV, his face buried in his hands, framed by a curtain of hair.

“Eddie?” Steve asks warily, still unsure if Eddie might be trapped by Vecna.

But then Eddie jumps, whipping his head up and staring at Steve with wide, scared eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington!” 

He holds his hands up in front of him. “Shit, sorry, I thought-”

“That Vecna got me?” Eddie scoffs. He taps his knuckles against his temple. “Nope, just me up here.” His hands fall to the space between his legs. They’re shaking. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, shoving his own hands in his pockets when he feels the urge to grab Eddie’s and hold them until they’re not shaking anymore. 

Eddie breathes out a humorless laugh. “Dude, I’m so fucking far from okay.”

Steve grimaces, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Right, of course, that was stupid.” 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Eddie shakes his head. “No, not stupid, sorry. I’m just on edge, man. This whole monster fighting thing.” He waves his hand vaguely. “It ain’t for me.”

“I thought that’s what you did in that dorky game of yours,” Steve says, hoping to distract Eddie with a joke. 

Eddie snorts. “It’s really fucking different when you can actually, you know- die.”

“You’re not gonna die, Munson,” Steve says with a frown.

Eddie shakes his head repeatedly. “Oh, I have a baaad feeling, Stevie, a feeling that I ain’t gonna make it out-”

“Fuck that, man,” Steve hisses. The thought of something happening to Eddie or any of his friends making anger bubble up inside him. “You can’t think like that. We got this, okay?”

Eddie sighs, lifting his gaze to meet Steve’s eyes. “How do you do it, man?”

“Do what?”

“How are you so,” he gestures at Steve, “calm about this shit.”

“It’s not my first time,” Steve shrugs. “My first time I was scared shitless, but I made it out okay and you will too,” he says as confidently as he can, but Eddie doesn’t seem convinced. He’s no longer looking at Steve but down at his hands as he nervously wrings his fingers together, his leg bouncing rapidly. His hair falls like a curtain around his face but Steve can still see the tears gathering in his eyes. 

Eddie looks like he’s falling apart at the seams, and once again Steve wants to hug him. Only this time they’re alone, they’re not covered in blood or Upside Down goo and they’ve come a long way from Eddie trying to slash his neck open with a bottle so Steve thinks fuck it and takes a step forward. 

“Come here.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He frowns. “What?”

“Get up,” Steve says. Still frowning, Eddie pushes himself to his feet. “Now come here.”

“Where?”

“Here.” Steve holds his arms open and Eddie’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. “I’m giving you a hug.”

“You’re- what?”

Steve shuffles his feet. He feels stupid, standing there with his arms open while Eddie stares at him like he grew a second head. The back of his neck feels like it’s burning, the heat slowly spreading to his face. “You- you just look like you could use a hug.”

Eddie breathes out a startled laugh. “Holy shit, this is by far the strangest thing to have happened to me ever, and considering the days I just had, that’s saying something.”

“Munson,” Steve mutters but Eddie ignores him. 

“Steve Harrington wants to give me a hug?” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest. 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, and it’s a limited-time offer so are you gonna come here or are you gonna be a dick about it?”

“Well, if His Majesty insists,” Eddie jokes with a hand flourish but his tone lacks any lightheartedness. He’s nervous, fidgety. Despite his words, he hesitates, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. 

So Steve takes matters into his own hands. Literally. He closes the distance between them with two long strides, grabs Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in.

Eddie goes stiff, and for a moment, Steve worries that he’ll pull back but then he lets out a soft noise and melts into Steve, shaky hands coming up to grab his waist. 

“You’re going to live, Eddie,” Steve whispers, one of his hands moving to cup the back of Eddie’s neck. He shudders in his arms. “We’re going to win and we’re all going to live, okay?”

Eddie tucks his face into his neck. It’s Steve who shudders this time. “If you say so, Stevie.”

Steve makes a stubborn noise. “I do,” he says, squeezing Eddie a little tighter. He ignores the whine Eddie lets out or how it makes something hot burn in his belly. He focuses on Eddie’s arms wrapping around his waist instead- like he fears Steve might pull away. 

He doesn’t.

“You just have to trust me, okay?” Steve says, absently playing with the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck, feeling him go limp in his arms. Pride surges through Steve at being right. Eddie clearly needed a hug. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, sounding a little more confident. 

Neither of them let go. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other, Steve’s fingers still moving in Eddie’s hair. 

“Steve?” Eddie says, breaking the silence after a few minutes. 

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what? You’re a good hugger, dude, I’m enjoying myself,” Steve teases but the truth is that he means it. He likes hugging Eddie, he wishes he didn’t wait this long to do it or that he didn’t need to let go of him soon, before their friends come looking for them. He knows what Robin will say if she finds them like this- she has yet to shut up about Eddie calling Steve big boy and how Steve momentarily forgot how to function because of it.

He forgets how to function now when Eddie giggles, his breath tickling Steve’s neck. “You keep surprising me, Harrington.”

“Get used to it, Munson,” he says as he finally, regrettably, pulls back. He keeps his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “’Cause you’re stuck with me, man.”

Eddie blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, squeezing his shoulders. He gets an idea. “After we’re done, I’m taking you out for a drink. I think we’ll both need one.”

A smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. He seems infinitely more relaxed now than he did when Steve found him. “What- like a date?” He asks, clearly trying to make a joke even if his eyes dart a little nervously over Steve’s face.

Already missing the way Eddie’s arms felt around his waist or how his fingers felt in Eddie’s hair, Steve stops himself from brushing it off as a joke. He can’t, not when the idea of going on a date with Eddie makes his stomach fill with butterflies. With a smirk, he shrugs. “Guess you’re just gonna have to live long enough to find out?”

A nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Eddie but his eyes sparkle like the idea of going out on a date with Steve doesn’t make him want to run off into the woods. “Guess so, big boy,” he says, making Steve’s cheeks heat up. “Let’s go make that Vecna fucker pay then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a big grin. “Let’s kill that son of a bitch.”

And with that, they head back to their friends. Eddie isn’t okay, he probably won’t be until this is over but now there’s a spring in his step and his hands aren’t shaking anymore.

And when his eyes meet Steve’s on the rearview mirror as he drives them to the Creel house, Eddie gives him a big dimpled smile- the first one to reach his eyes since they found him in that boat house. 

Steve is happy to have hugged him. He can’t wait to do it again- because he needs it, because they made it or just because this time. And then hopefully many times after that. 

[lennadanvers]

Eddie had faced a lot of things in his short life. Never had he thought he was so close to dying as he was now.

"...excuse me?"

He was bright red. Something was happening inside of him- a knot that he didn't remember was there had just snapped, and everything within his chest had gone loose. The knot had been made of barbed wire. The bundle had started to tighten when he was a kid: cold, lost and alone. It had tightened the first time someone called him freak. When he heard the first laugh behind his back. It tightened when everybody but him had gotten an invitation for the first big high school party of his generation, and every school dance he hadn't attended. When all his classmates had graduated and he had stayed behind. When he had been called murderer.

Somewhere along the way, he developed the ability to ignore the scratching of the barbed wire against his insides. But now you had taken away the metal, the sharp bits, the tension, and all that was left was relief and open wounds.

There you were, beaming at him, small but infinitely bigger than he felt, all soft and kind, like you hadn't just left a mark deeper than any scar he had.

"Good boy, Eddie. You did amazing."

Good boy.

No one had ever told Eddie he was a good boy. No one had ever said he was good, period.

And now he had you in his bed; your hand caressing his unworthy curls, your taste in his tainted mouth, your... You. He had you.

Eddie was lucky he was already laying, because his knees weakened instantly. His brain- that already had a hard time when your eyes were on him- had stopped working altogether. On the other hand, his heart was going at full speed.

All he could do was let out a strangled whiny noise. The lightnings in his belly grew when he raised on shaky arms and felt his crotch rub against the bed. The fact that he had cum in his pants after hearing that sparked in the back of his mind, less than an afterthought. He moved on top of you and fell in the crook of your neck, body limp, chest shaking.

"Good boy?"

There was this white, warm, big thing inside of him that he didn't know what to do with. Eddie wasn't sure if he felt pain, happiness or tears in his throat.

"The goodest boy."

Eddie made a little noise again and put his arms around your waist, as tight as he could.

"Say it again. Please."

[tartarusknight]

Let's say for fun that Eddie Munson isn't just gay or just straight. If he's not one of them, I believe he'd be pansexual. Yes, bi exists, but I feel like it isn't Eddie. I can just imagine young Eddie not knowing that people don't just fall in love with everyone who's kind to them. He tells his dad how much he wants to marry the neighbor's son, and that's when he has a wake-up call.

He learns that everyone, in fact, does not, not care about what is in someone's pants. And when he moves in with Wayne, he tries to ignore that part of himself that likes boys.

But throughout school, Eddie learns he has a type. Pretty jocks who have hearts of gold. Chrissy Cunningham, who was head cheerleader and played volleyball. But she was soft and sweet. She was kind to Eddie, and Eddie fell for her.

The man he fell for, though, he was a harder read. At first, he couldn't stand him. The boy was always looking a million miles away, like he was better than everyone else. But then... then Eddie had seen him at the store, talking with Joyce Byers. He had been kind to her, and when he noticed the young Will Byers, he hadn't been prickly. No, Steve Harrington had oohed and ahhed over one of his drawings.

And well, Eddie knew that in school, Steve and his friends didn't deal with Jonathan. Jonathan was a year younger, and Steve hadn't given him a second glance. But he had been kind to these two like it was God-given right.

When Joyce had asked Steve about his parents, well, Steve hadn't gotten bitch, just awkward. He explained they had a big trip so Steve just took the bus. 15 years old and already being independent. After that, the distant looks, bored stares... well they didn't look so bored, so high and mighty. They just looked lonely.

Eddie had been instantly hooked on watching him. And when you watched, you saw the heart of gold leak through. So throughout school, Eddie nursed his two crushes, and when Chrissy asked him for drugs, he couldn't say no. Not even when he didn't want to see her mess up her life. He brought her back to the trailer and experienced one of the worst nights of his life. Just when he thought that maybe there was a chance he'd at least become friends with her.

He didn't think that watching her die would bring him Steve, though. And with his shitty week, he couldn't even tell himself to hold back. He flirted, got in his face, and called him pet names. Whatever he could think of, he did. He didn't think of any backlash when it felt like he'd be thrown in jail or killed by freaky supernatural shit.

Eddie fell even further, getting to watch Steve rip a bat apart. It was so fucking Ozzy. And then, as Eddie had laid in Dustin's arms, never expecting to get up again, Steve was there. Like a goddamm angel. He told the man as much.

Sure, he wouldn't remember when he woke up. But that was later Eddie's problem. Not that it was a problem. No, because when Eddie wakes up, Steve will be there, and he'll tell Eddie that it's okay to pick the hard choice. To love the option that would make it so much harder when the person you love is right next to you.

Yes, Eddie Munson might not have been gay or straight. He might have loved Chrissy or not. But he did fall for Steve and well... Steve, I imagine that Steve will find himself learning to love someone new in Eddie. That Nancy didn't have to be he only option. That he could be happy with Eddie.

That when Eddie was better and Vecna was dead, they could start a life together. One where the kids were still a big part of it, and Robin was their roommate. One where love wasn't easy, but it was worth it.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

'86 Baby

Author: Em_Jaye

Rating/Warning: Mature, referenced ED, s*icide attempt and thoughts

Chapter Count: 4/4

Description:

1986 really was Eddie Munson's year. He graduated. Moved to Chicago. Corroded Coffin started to gain a following. He made new friends and got a cool new job.

Everything was great.

Now if he could just survive until 1987, things would be perfect.

Tags: Alternate universe- no vecna, time loop au, angst, angst with a happy ending, Eddie needs a hug, Chrissy needs a hug, HUGS FOR ALL, hurt/comfort, please just give my girl some love, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: completed

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 2!!

Starting the tag list with: @mugloversonly @jackiemonroe5512 @thestarslittleking @jonesen4coffee @virginlemontea @blackpanzy @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @child-of-cthuhlu @sofadofax @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @artemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @silenzioperso @myownworstenemyyy @feral-possums-in-the-bog @mente-sindescanso @mrslectermoriarty @y4r3luv @a-couchpotato @aknelimdoogladania @she-collects-smut

…

Thursday came in a false sense of security.

Steve woke up to the gentle sun in his face, the breeze of an open window in his hair, and his son’s chubby baby fingers wrapped around his hand.

Steve grinned sleepily at Louie and laughed when baby Louie smiled so wide back at him that his paci fell out.

Steve held Louie close while preparing a small breakfast of eggs and toast, then continued to hold him while making his bottle and setting out a few cheese puffs for him teethe on.

Steve made sure Louie ate first, helping him hold the bottle and then laughing at the pure mess he makes with the cheese puffs. Then Steve himself ate. Clean up was quick enough witch a wet rag and a speedy wipe-down.

Later on, just as Steve was thinking about preparing lunch, the front doors opened.

“Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT.” Steve angrily whispered to himself. Little Louie stared at him from where he was propped on the couch, not a thought behind his wide eyes. Though he obviously knew something was wrong with his dad.

Steve was quick to buckle Louie into his car seat, bundling him up with a blanket and giving him his bear.

“Stephan? Are you in the living room? Come grab our bags, please,” Cynthia Harrington called from down the hall.

There was no getting out of this. No way of getting Louie to the car without his parents seeing. But he’s sure they already knew of the baby, or suspected something. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were nosy motherfuckers set on ruining Steve’s life.

Steve sighed and looked at Louie. He knelt in front of the car seat and rubbed a hand gently on his son’s face. Louie grabbed his finger and smiled around his paci.

Steve wanted to cry.

“Stephan! Your mother called you so answer her!” Richard Harrington yelled. Steve heard the wind outside pick up aggressively and cursed the mornings sunshine.

“Coming!”

Steve padded into the hallway where his parents were taking off their jackets. Cynthia and Richard were picture-perfect— or they would’ve been. If it weren’t for the pressed line of his mother’s mouth and the hard line of his father’s jaw. Steve knew what was coming before they did.

“Stephan, the bags.” Were his mothers first words to him. Not “Hi, son, how have you been?” Not “Sorry we’ve been gone for nearly 8 months.” Not “How are you feelings after that concussion from last November? We’re terribly sorry we couldn’t stop work to simply call and make sure you were ok.”

No. None of that. Instead he was demanded around like a fucking dog.

“Um. Actually, I had to talk to you both. If you don’t mind—“

“Save it. Take the bags upstairs and meet us in the living room,” Richard stated harshly.

Steve flinched. He hated himself for flinching. But they couldn’t go in the living room. Not while Louie was still in there.

“Actually, dad— it’s very important and I just really need to talk to you guys—“

“Stephan!”

Steve winced at the pitchy tone of his mother.

“Please, I promise— It’ll be worth your time, just— just give a minute, please.” He was begging now. He hated begging.

Richard had grown tired of Steve’s fumbling for words and shoved past him. Steve knocked into the wall with the harshness.

“Stephan, you will listen to your mother and take the bags upstairs and meet us—“

“Dad, wait—“

Richard stopped in the doorway to the living room, whatever insult or command he was going to throw Steve’s way dying on his tongue.

“Stephan. Why, in the Lord’s name, is there a baby’s car seat in my living room?”

His tone was calm. Steve knew better than to think he was actually anything other than furious.

“Thats— that’s what I needed to speak to you about. Please, I—“

Steve should’ve anticipated the slap.

But he didn’t. And his head snapped to the side with the force that left him seeing stars.

Steve didn’t stay long enough to listen to his dad yelling slurs or his mom crying. He simply grabbed Louie’s car seat, picked up his shoes by the door, and left.

.

Steve had been driving for near three hours before he pulled over. He’d circled the entirety of town before finally pulling into a small dirt path by the quarry. Belatedly he realized someone was crying.

He hurried to get out of the car, rounding to the back and sliding into the backseat to sit next to Louie’s car seat. But Louie wasn’t crying, he was sound asleep.

Steve realized he was crying.

He startled when a broken sob tore itself out of his throat. He hurried out of the car and dragged himself the few yards to the edge of the quarry.

He sat down and let the rain pelt him from all angles. His face stung. Steve knew the slap would bruise phenomenally in the morning. It’d probably affect his tips at work.

He swung his feet idly on the edge, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his shoes or even socks for that matter. His heels where starting to bleed from each time he rammed them into the rocks on the edge of the cliff.

Steve doesn’t know how long he sat there in the rain. He snapped back to reality when a particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled in his gut. He went back to the car.

Louie was still sound asleep. Steve figured he himself should most likely sleep as well. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get a place for them, but he’d already been saving up.

He curled up in the back seat next to baby Louie. He didn’t bother with a blanket, and he knew he’d get a cold with his clothes still being wet, but he deemed it fine.

Steve’s sleep was fitful and restless. Filled with slurs and yelling and running from monsters that shouldn’t exist.

.

It was a week before he finally got a place.

Not that long, sure. But it was a week of pure dread and exhaustion and nightmares.

The trailer he was looking at was located near the edge of Forest Hills. It was two bedroom one bathroom and had a small living room (with no ceiling light) and a kitchen (that barely had any wiggle room). But it was his.

He’d been at work when he got the call— as that was where he told the landlord to call. Mason— the line cook— called him back.

“Hey Steve-o! That landlord guys on the phone!”

Steve jumped so hard he nearly spilled the waters he was carrying.

“Be right there, Mace!”

Steve was quick to get the waters to the table 7 and take their orders for the night before he rushed back. He tossed his notepad at Mason and snatched the phone.

“Hi, Mr. Gardison!” he greeted cheerily.

“Stephen, hi. So…”

And Steve was given the trailer.

He was vibrating with excitement by the end of his call. When Steve returned the phone to its holder he was picked up from the ground in a bear hug. He laughed and hugged Mason back.

“You got the place!” Mason cheered.

“I got the place!” Steve laughed.

The rest of his day went swimmingly. He would be able to officially move into the trailer on Friday— which was fine by him. Two days of waiting was nothing.

Steve was given congratulations from a few of the regulars. Mr. Jinkins gave him a good slap on the shoulder while Miss. Gladson pulled him into a hug. They tipped him an extra 5 dollars each before they left.

At the end of his Wednesday shift, Steve gave out hugs to most of his coworkers. Mason, Allya, and his boss Michelle got hugs while George and Gwen got high fives. Steve left feeling light on his feet with a to-go bag for dinner.

Thursday was filled with the lunch rush. Steve had to take his break early to check on baby Louie in the back. He felt bad turning George’s manager office into a daycare but George assured him it was fine.

“Hey honey,” Steve’s cooed at the baby in his arms. “How are you doing, huh love? You’ve been cooped up for so long I know.”

Louie gripped his baby hands into the front of Steve’s apron. He was back in the kitchens today, Allya taking his place up front waitressing.

Steve hopped around and lightly bounced Louie against his chest, humming quietly and gently.

Louie whined and continued to cry.

“I know Louie, I know. You hungry? Hang on baby.”

Steve made sure Louie was fed and burped and laid him done for a nap. He only had an hour of his shift left.

Thursday finished off normally and Steve left with his usual dinner. He drove out to the quarry and parked before sitting in the backseat with Louie to eat.

Eventually he took Louie out of the car and sat with him on the rocky ground of the quarry. Steve held Louie close in his lap, letting the baby play with his hands and fingers and babble about nothing and everything.

Steve occasionally answered with little gums of encouragement, but for the most part he let baby Louie talk to himself. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the trailer and how they got to move in tomorrow.

Before Steve knew it Louie had fallen asleep and he himself was on the verge. He got them both settled in the backseat once more and allowed himself to drift off.

…

We’re finally, maybe, getting somewhere lol. Tag list is open to everyone still, feel free to ask for a place!! We’ll get into some of Steve’s school life in the next part hopefully 🤞

Part 3: