#I'm kinda back I guess??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

Text

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 4

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | AO3 | playlist

icymi, i retcon-ed the last little bit of chap 3 (what steve's entry to Be My Baby said from Eddie to Teddy!)

@steddie-week prompt for today: first kiss/Kiss on My List - Hall & Oates (though the part before that got a away from me a little 😅)

-------

Staying away for a bit seemed to be the best thing to do, so Steve goes back to the hospital a couple days later, coming back in the early morning this time to try avoiding stepping on Wayne Munson’s toes.

He looks in on Max first. She’s still asleep, so he quietly sneaks around the room, straightening things up, and picking up discarded popsicle sticks and cotton balls from whatever game the party’s made up as an excuse to throw them around.

He straightens her blankets, pulling them up a bit higher to make sure she stays comfortable, and sneaks back out the open door.

Steve really wants to check in on Eddie too, but doesn’t want to incur the wrath of the older Munson if he catches wind of him being there.

“I’ll just look in, make sure he’s okay, and leave.” Steve rationalizes, mumbling to himself as he walks the familiar path from Max’s room to Eddie’s.

He hears music playing softly as he approaches, the tail end of one song and the beginning of another that is definitely not something he would’ve associated with the bold and brash metalhead currently laid up there.

Steve peeks around the doorframe and finds Wayne there already, sitting beside the tapedeck Steve had brought for them to play music for Eddie.

He’s got a pair of glasses sitting low on his nose, scowling down at a small worn book in his lap. Steve recognizes the cover immediately. It’s the copy of The Hobbit Dustin had left there.

“Damn it Ed, you couldn’t’ve had an easier favorite to read?” Wayne grumbles aloud.

Steve laughs without thinking, and Wayne’s sharp gaze snaps up to him in an instant.

“Oh shit, sorry, Mr. Munson.” he steps into the doorway a little more, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll just…yeah.”

He’s turned to leave when Wayne’s voice stops him. “Harrington.”

Oh boy.

“Yes sir?”

“Lemme talk t’ya a second.”

Steve enters the room; the itch to immediately go to Eddie’s side is strong, but he stops himself short a few steps away from the foot of Eddie’s bed.

Glancing down at his friend, he’s shocked and delighted to find Eddie’s breathing tube is gone.

“His tu—” Steve starts, but stops himself. He’s there to hear what Wayne wants to say.

“Came out last night, actually.”

He nods gratefully at the offered information, but when Wayne doesn’t say anything, Steve starts, “Mr. Munson–”

“Wayne.” Wayne cuts him off. “I need to apologize.”

Steve blinks at him in shock.

“That loud curly-haired kid of yours really gave me a what-for this morning.”

“Dustin?” Steve whispers.

“That’s the one.” Wayne nods.

“Mr. Mun–Wayne, I’m so sorry, Dustin can be a bit much, whatever he said to you I promise was just said because he cares about Eddie so much..”

“I know that,” Wayne nods, “Really cares about you too, y’know. Nearly tore my head off for darin’ t’say somethin’ bad about your family.”

“To be fair to Dustin, my family deserves it.” Steve jokes, but immediately kicks himself for interrupting.

Wayne nods, “That they do. I’m glad you know this already.”

There’s a weighty pause while Wayne stands, Steve stays frozen waiting for Wayne to continue.

“Your kiddo told me you were the one to get Eddie out of there. Back here to the hospital.” He continues after Steve nods, “Now I realize that was you there in the next bed over when they first called me, but t’be fair, I wasn’t worried ‘bout much else but Eddie.”

“I understand.” Steve nods.

Wayne takes one long step forward to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder and Steve looks up to meet his eyes.

“M’sorry I snapped at you, son.” Steve’s stomach clenches. “Thank you fer bringin’ my boy back to me.”

“You’re we–OOF.” The rest of his response is cut off when his face is suddenly pressed into Wayne’s shoulder. The elder Munson smells like asphalt and cigarettes, the sharp smell of grease stings the back of Steve’s nose

He chooses to blame that for the tears that spill over onto the man’s jacket, and if Wayne notices the wet spot, or the tears that stain Steve’s face after releasing him, he doesn’t say anything.

They sit and talk a bit, Wayne explaining his modified visiting hours due to his work schedule was likely why they hadn’t really crossed paths until Steve accidentally stayed late (“Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?” Steve asks him, “Probably, but this is more important.”), he tells Wayne what he’d taken to doing for Eddie while he was there in return (“I thought chapstick would be a bit too far for me,” he says as he hands Wayne the new tube of chapstick that’s been haunting the front pocket of his jeans, “but I couldn’t stand watching his wrist get rubbed raw by that damn cuff.”), then move on to Wayne’s personal mixtape he’d been playing whenever he’d visit.

“Even you know it’s not Ed’s particular brand of tunes, but this is our…default tape. Always got it playin’ when we clean the trailer, or while he’s paintin’ somethin’ in the living room while I read the paper.” Wayne shrugs, “Thought it’d bring him some comfort.”

They both fall quiet after that. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and they’ll have a few more hours before the party (sans Dustin, who was off to a previously scheduled, school-sponsored trip as of this morning, hence why he was in so early to say goodbye to Eddie and and to berate his uncle) descends, so they sit in the comforting lull of the day to the Munson Background Music. Wayne moving onto his paper, Steve picking up and attempting (once again) to get into The Hobbit.

He’s gotten through a whole five pages (Five! A new personal best!) when Wayne clears his throat, trying to grab Steve’s attention.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way son, but I gotta ask; it seems t’me you’ve got some…extra feelings for my Eddie.”

Steve freezes.

“No, no, none of that, Steve. I’m asking you both as a concerned uncle, and as a protective one.”

Steve gulps audibly. “How do you mean?”

“C’mon son, you see anyone else here for ‘im as much? Believe you me, your curly-haired number one fan really handed it to me today. You’ve been here with Eddie more than I have.”

Steve feels his face burn in embarrassment, both for Dustin’s antics on his behalf, and for the current path this conversation is taking.

“Not to be cliché, but I gotta ask, What’re your intentions with my nephew?” Wayne’s eyes crinkle heavily in tandem with his warm smile.

Because the universe hates him, the chorus of the song currently playing cuts through the brief silence between his question and Steve’s not-yet-formulated response.

“ So won’t you, please (Be my, be my baby)? My one and only baby? ” Ronnie and her Ronettes croon, much to Steve’s dismay.

Steve chuckles, half humorously, “Ronnie said it best, Mr. Munson.”

After Wayne’s good-natured laughing fit is over, he says “Best of luck t’ya, Harrington. Just know I’ve got a shotgun in my closet back home.”

“Don’t worry, if I ever hurt your nephew, Dustin will sick Nancy on me. And she’s got a few.”

They fall into conversation again after that, and Steve finds out a bit more about the man, the myth, the legend that lays unconscious in the bed between him and Wayne. Eddie’s favorite color is either black or navy blue, he loves cinnamon-sugar on toast, about half the mugs in the Munson trailer are ones he’s collected, and (possibly the most important piece of information Steve’s ever known) Eddie’s full name is Theodore Wayne Munson.

“No way, Theodore??” Steve can’t contain his grin.

“Theodore.” Wayne nods with a smirk. “His dad hated it, started calling him Eddie basically from when he was born. Rationalized it bein’ short for Theodore, like a Ted to Teddy to Eddie type thing.

“Was his mom that named ‘im that, after her dad. She died when Ed was real young, so he’s been ‘Eddie’ all his life.” Wayne shrugs.

Steve goes to say something else, but is interrupted.

“Oh good, you’re both here.” Hopper grunts, stepping into Eddie’s room.

“Hop? What are you doing here?” Steve asks.

“You here to take that damn cuff off, Chief?”

Hopper comes up to the foot of Eddie’s bed and leans onto the plastic footboard, speaking low to only the two of them. “We’ve got a plan. We’re going to officially clear him today to the public, so yes, the cuff will be off later today but…” he pauses, looking between the two of them.

“Owens figures Eddie’ll be waking up sooner than later and when he does, he’ll need a place to lay low. You both know exactly how this’ll play out with the public, so Steve, we were hoping you’d be willing to take Eddie in in the meantime. If Wayne’s alright with that.”

“You don’t want him to be easy to track down.”

“Most folks wouldn’t expect him to be staying with Steve...” Wayne says in understanding.

“Exactly.” Hopper nods, “But what about your parents?” he directs back to Steve.

“Honestly? No worries there. They haven’t been around much at all in the last year; I think they are about to cut their losses and just sign the house over to me.” he shrugs.

He ignores both Wayne and Hopper's concerned looks and continues. “What will I need to do to help him? Is he going to do physical therapy? Do his bandages need to be wrapped any different than mine?”

Dr. Owens comes in then, “We’ll know more after he wakes up, Steve, but yes, physical therapy appointments are likely in order to build back up his abdominal strength.”

“Honestly don’t think there was much there t’begin with, doc.” Wayne says, poking fun at his nephew as easy as breathing.

-----

A few more days pass, and Steve goes back to work. Having taken time to heal himself, and make sure his people were safe and sound after taking care of Vecna.

This is about when he gets the idea in his head about making a mixtape for Eddie himself. Music is such an important thing in Eddie’s life, and Steve wants to be sappy, okay? Mixtapes are a romance cliché he hasn’t delved into before and what better person to create one for?

Steve gets the call Eddie’s awake on a Wednesday. Family Video’s least busy day.

“Family Video, this is Steve, How can I help you?” He drones.

“G’morning son, y’able to get to the hospital?” Wayne sounds like he’s smiling, but his stomach turns to lead anyway.

“Wayne?”

“Eddie’s awake. He’s ask–”

Steve doesn’t let him finish. “I’m on my way!”

He slams the phone down on the receiver, yells “Gotta go, Ryan!” to his coworker in the back office and books it out the door without waiting for a response.

Breaking multiple speed limits on his way, Steve arrives at the hospital in record time. Deciding the elevator was a waste of time, he sprints up the two flights of stairs to Eddie’s room.

Wayne’s outside the door talking to Hopper when he finally skids to a stop.

“He’s awake? Did someone tell Dustin? Gotta ask Will to help, he should be able to operate their crazy radio–Cerebro!” He snaps his fingers when the name comes to him. “Or maybe El can reach out an–”

“Steve, calm down.” Hopper shushes him, “Yes, Eddie’s awake but still kinda loopy from the drugs. He’s been in and out for the last couple hours. And yes, I’ve called Claudia, she’s contacting Dustin’s camp to give him the news.”

He smiles, sagging in relief. “Can I see him?”

“Sure, go on in,” Wayne chuckles, stepping back from the door for Steve to pass.

Rushing forward to Eddie’s side, Steve sees the other man shifting; stirring as if waking up from a nap, not a coma.

“Hey Eds,” he chuckles after a particularly funny-looking stretch. “You good, man?”

“Stevie! Steviesteviestevie’s here! Wayne, Steve’s here!”

“I see that, now stop wriggling around. You’ll pull yer stitches.” Wayne calls, then goes back to his conversation with Hopper.

“Ohyeah, I’m Frankenstein now.” Eddie tells him with all the confidence in the world.

“You are, are you?”

“Yeah I got all new skin and stitches.”

“...Are you talking about your skin grafts?”

“Uh, ya. Pay ‘tention Steve-o.” Eddie attempts to poke the end of Steve’s nose, but misses completely, poking a cold finger into his eye instead.

“Ow??”

“Steve? You okay?” Eddie looks like he’s about to cry, none the wiser to the bruised eyelid he just caused.

“Yeah, yeah, hon, I’m fine. You just poked me is all. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, sagging into the pillows under his shoulders with a sigh and a smile. “You called me ‘hon’.”

“That I did,” Steve says with a chuckle, “That okay?”

Eddie’s still smiling, closes his eyes and says, “No.” then promptly falls asleep.

“...What?”

-------

“You told Steve my full name?” Eddie accuses Wayne as soon as he steps through the door later that night (early that morning? Whatever..).

“Why’re you up?”

“Answer the question, old man!”

“Yeah, I did. Seemed pleased as punch t’have learned that lil’ bit of information.”

“I can’t believe this. He called me Teddy!” Eddie waves the scanned page in his uncle’s face.

“That’s cute.” Wayne toes off his boots and wanders into the kitchen for coffee. His bedtime staple.

“Cute?! You’re giving away my secrets!”

“You just now finding out about the Teddy thing? That was weeks ago, Eds, did he not call you that the whole time you were stayin’ there?”

“No??”

Wayne just shrugs in response.

“Wait…” Eddie scans through the one memory he tries to keep wrapped up tight, lest he agonize over it 24/7, “He did once; he was running late for work one day…”

-------

Eddie is packed up and ferried off to Steve’s a couple days later; he’s still sore, still recovering, but at least now he can be out of the hospital and he’s past the biggest threat of infection.

He’s got a schedule of PT appointments he’ll have to make; a schedule of which Steve made sure to get into Keith’s hands before Eddie came home and ensuring he’d get Steve’s work schedule swapped around to accommodate (He did, after a thorough berating by Robin).

“This’ll be fun, huh Stevie?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the re-dressing instructions for his various wounds in his hand.

“Oh yeah, loads.” he responds sarcastically at first, but gives him a smile immediately after. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, Eds.”

He reaches over and pats the top of Eddie’s leg, then turns back to the road, pulling away from the curb none the wiser to Eddie’s burning red face.

They ride along in comfortable silence, the radio playing the local rock station at a low volume.

“You ready for the chaos when Henderson gets back?”

Eddie scoffs, “I’m surprised he didn't manage to convince Claudia to pick him up, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s planning his escape to the bus station as we speak.” Steve laughs.

Eddie’s quiet long enough for Steve to look away from the road over at him. The sun through Eddie’s open window makes his dark brown, almost black curls glow gold at the edges; Steve finds himself wanting to kiss him more than anything.

But his face is contorted in worry, and he’s chewing on his already stubby fingernails.

“Eds? You alright?”

“Huh? Yeahyeah I’m just…panicking.”

Steve glances back to the road briefly, “About what?”

“He’s going to hate me.” Eddie blurts as soon as the ‘t’ leaves Steve’s mouth.

“No he’s not, Ed–”

“Why shouldn’t he? With what I put him through down there?”

“Hey, no, none of that.”

Eddie doesn’t respond. His fingers are going to start to bleed if he doesn’t stop.

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve grabs his hand away from his mouth, ignoring the feeling of wet fingertips as he laces their fingers together.

“Gross, man–”

“Eddie, that boy loves you so goddamn much. He may be a little passive aggressive about it for a while, but I know he’s glad you made it out of there. That you’re here with us.”

He lets himself smile at Steve’s words. “I’m only here ‘cause of you.” he says in a small voice.

“I just didn’t want Dustin to be sad.” Steve states, matter-of-factly and turns all his attention back to the road.

Eddie snorts in laughter at that, and Steve’s face pulls up into a smirk.

He’s still holding Eddie’s hand.

-----

The plan is for Eddie to lay low for a couple weeks at minimum.

Luckily for them, Hopper coming back lent credence to the claim that he was trying to help track down the Creel Murder copycat killer, being as the original killer was from Hawkins and all.

The government pulled their strings, declaring Eddie a free man and a hero for saving a young Mr. Henderson when, while being held hostage at the Creel House, he’d taken a majority of the killer’s wrath and kept Dustin safe from the crumbling rubble when the earthquake hit.

It was flimsy at best if you looked at it too hard, but luckily for them, it seemed like the people of Hawkins would much rather ignore their shortcomings when it came to the witch hunt than face them.

It only ended up taking about those two weeks for Eddie to get much stronger, and for things to blow over enough for him to go home.

But damn does Steve wish it was longer.

Not the…hiding from a mob thing, or healing from horrible wounds thing.. But the ‘having Eddie that close’ thing, the ‘comforting presence after a particularly bad nightmare’ thing.

Steve was falling harder and harder every day. Doing his damndest to make Eddie blush just a bit pinker every time his hand lingered on Eddie’s just a bit too long, every pretend need to brush his hair away from his face, and the particularly great ‘Oh, don’t worry if you can’t reach up enough to wash your hair, Eddie, I’ll help. I won’t look anywhere else, promise…unless you want me to’ he’d said (in much more eloquent terms) with a flirty wink

It was sickeningly domestic, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Even in the times they’d get frustrated with one another; Eddie sick of having to be helped with every little thing and having to deal with the constant pain, or Steve also dealing with his own wounds and having to deal with a couple of Eddie’s fits of anger at having to be helped.

Kudos to Eddie though, he really pushed through his PT, did everything right, listened to what Steve and his doctors told him, he was healing fast.

On the second to last day of Eddie staying with him (though he didn’t know it at the time), Eddie was up before him. He’d snuck easily past the open door to the living room from the hall under the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Steve woke up to the smell of eggs and toast and wandered groggily into the kitchen himself.

Eddie had stretched the toaster from its usual spot in the corner of the counter to right next to the stove and had perched himself on a stool from the island so he could cook.

“Eddie?”

“Stevie, hey!” Eddie says, turning a bit to smile at him as he enters. “I hope you don’t mind scrambled, I don’t quite have the muscle movements to flip anything yet.

Steve blinks twice. Fuck. He’s in love.

“I’ll take anything you give me, Eds.” Eddie’s face turns fully scarlet at that. “Need any help? I’ll make some cinnamon toast if you’d like?” He asks, already pulling the toaster away from the stove with one hand and reaching for the cinnamon sugar with the other.

“Y-yeah, that’d be great Sweeth–Stevie.”

Steve feels his own face go scarlet at the slip, but doesn’t call attention to it. “Cool.” he says, like an idiot.

Eddie hums as they work, some song Steve doesn’t quite recognize, and soon they have two plates of breakfast.

“Thanks Eddie, this looks great.”

“You’re welcome Steve-o, I put some cheese in there too.” His smile is perfect.

“What’ve you got planned today?”

Eddie launches into the campaign he’s been planning for the party, what he’s still got to figure out, whether or not he’s going to delay starting in order to make them all a figure of their characters, but then if he did that he’d need them all to give him their character sheets well beforehand and Mike is horrible about not making a character till the very last second..

Steve’s so entranced listening to him, he doesn’t realize what time it is until Eddie stops himself.

“Hey, don’t you have the opener today? It’s already 9:30.”

“Aw shit..”

Steve races up the stairs to his room to the tune of Eddie’s cackle, starting the shower first, then grabbing up whatever clothes he can find that’re clean.

He jumps under the warm spray and showers as fast as he possibly can, jumps back out, focuses on drying his hair as much as possible while trying to yank the denim of his jeans over the still-wet skin of his legs, pulls on a polo, shrugs on his vest, grabs up the stupid styling mousse he doesn't like to use all that often (it makes his hair sticky and he hates it, okay?) and whips his hair into shape.

Good enough.

He bolts back down the stairs, pulls on his socks, then shoes, fuck! Where are his keys??

“In here, Stevie!”

He peeks into the kitchen and Eddie’s got both arms outstretched in front of him where he’s still perched on the stool.

In one hand: his keys, in the other: a brown paper bag.

Eddie made him a lunch.

Can you fall more in love with someone that quick after doing it the first time?

“You’re a fuckin’ lifesaver,’ Steve reaches out with both his own hands, enveloping them over Eddie’s.

He pushes them wide, steps between Eddie’s legs, kisses him quickly, then, just as quickly, is gripping onto the bag and his keys, and stepping backwards toward the door.

“Take it easy today, okay Teddy? You already did a lot, so just relax. See you later!” Steve admonishes the other man teasingly and spins out the front door.

It takes hours.

Hours for Steve to realize what he did.

“Oh no…Oh fuck! ” he yells, dropping the tape in his hand and abandoning the returns cart where it stands.

He books it to the front counter and launches himself over it, knocking a whole stack of already organized tapes off it in his wake a la Dustin Henderson.

Old Ms. Wilson turns her nose up at his antics and leaves without any preamble, and he’s mercifully alone in the store.

“C’mon, c’mon, Eddie please pick up…”

“Harrington residence!”

“Eddie! Eddie, I am so so sorry! I swear, I didn't even realize what I did until just about..hm.. 20 seconds ago? It doe–” Well, better now than never. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, we can just forget it ever happened if yo–”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries Harrington,”

“Harrington?”

Eddie continues on like he didn’t hear him “I know it was just a mistake; I should be out of here soon anyway so..”

There’s something off about his voice. “Ed–”

“So just forget it ever happened, ‘kay? Ooh, bring back Star Wars when you’re off, yeah? Thanks, Steve, you’re the best.”

The dial tone sounds in his ear.

Wow.. okay, that’s…fine. He’ll just stick to being hopelessly in love on his own, then.

-------

“You mean to tell me,” Wayne’s got his eyes closed and his thumb and forefinger pinched over the bridge of his nose. “That that boy kissed you full on yer mouth. And you thought he was 100% not in love with you?”

“Well I know now that’s not true.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child being scolded. “He didn’t exactly sound all that excited about it when he called me.”

“I can’t believe I’m the one t’hafta tell ya this, but from what you said, in your own retelling , was Steve called hours later, ‘cause he didn’t realize he kissed ya, said ‘I’m sorry, it doesn’t have to mean anything.’...and you pushed him away.”

“That’s what I just said Wayne! I know now ‘cause of this tape but–”

“You’re hopeless. Bless that Buckley girl, oth’wise you’d still be…what’s she call ya? A Doofus about him.”

"...shut up.."

-------