#a tiny splash of stancy

[redlegumes]

Little Monster Chapter 2:

On AO3

"His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes."

Steve Harrington finds and loses love, finishes high school stealth, and is pulled into the mysteries and horrors of the Upside Down. (Transpires over the events of Stranger Things Seasons 1-3)

CHAPTER AFTER THE CUT IS MATURE 18+

Notes:

A lot of CW's for this chapter, trying to cover my bases.

I'd say I hope the warnings don't discourage you from reading, but they're literally here so people can make informed choices about the entertainment they're consuming. So please read the warnings.

CW: Mild homophobia, parental transphobia, mild internalized transphobia, canon based underaged sexual history discussed as well as high school aged Steve and Nancy sex talk (mature but not explicit), brief bully Billy Hargrove appearance, high school locker room verbal bullying/homophobia, Steve Harrington has bad parents, verbal abuse, disownment

Turning sixteen meant Steve secured a driver's license with his gender and name, thanks to his birth certificate being handled when it was. It also meant testosterone, thanks to his doctor in Chicago that he checked in with virtually. Steve was set up with a prescription and tracked down an online pharmacy that would ship it directly to the house. He didn't mind the needle aspect, it felt like a small price to pay for what he received in exchange. The bottom growth alone was so satisfying. Packers were fine and all, his prosthetics helped immensely, but having his own body shift closer to what he knew it should be was gratifying in ways he couldn't express. But of course there wasn't anyone to share his euphoria with either.

Steve was grateful for what his parent’s money afforded him and his access to medication, but he couldn't tell them that. They only wanted to see him in a tidy little gender box. He was their son, and he 'should be able to manage and maintain that identity' without slipping in the slightest. If anything, as soon as he received the car keys to the BMW it felt as though they were pulling away. Chip and Mitzi Harrington spent more and more time in Indianapolis, and when they were home, the pressure on Steve to present as the perfect son had a whiplash effect on him. One moment he was meant not to care about their frequent abandonment and the next he was expected to treat them as though they'd hung the moon.

Steve started to feel it wasn't his parent's good opinion of him that he needed, it'd never truly been. They weren't going to suddenly love and support him, no matter what hurdles he overcame, the hoops he jumped through. They weren't going to give him more of their time or consideration.

Steve's priorities shifted.

He could use his money and lack of supervision to his advantage. Steve's life alone, at home when his folks were away, didn't need to be a living mausoleum. He could get love and attention from his friends. While he couldn't completely squash that desire to get his parent's acceptance, this would do, and once he started, they didn't even seem to notice. He was fully integrated in the Hawkins High School power dynamic. Whether or not he passed was no longer worry number one. He now had to worry about other incidents. For example, how fast an ambitious sophomore, Cynthia Evans, tried to get her hand down his pants after baseball practice.

Steve liked girls. They were soft. He'd never noticed, before going on T, just how much softer they felt. They smelled lovely too. He found femininity on someone else wasn't a turn off at all. There was something affirming in the differences he clearly saw and felt between himself and female partners. They were foreign yet familiar, the paradox lightly plaguing him as he began to date around. Dating was part of the popularity deal. It also afforded him a little more leeway with his own identity. Steve cared about his hair and clothes obviously because he was a lady killer, not a 'homo' with feminine tendencies that he feared would one day be some sort of smoking gun that outed him.

Though, he still noticed guys.

Men were exciting in a different way. Certain traits, a muscle or light pattern of chest hair, these things drew Steve in beyond just gender envy. But even if he could keep his trans status secret while coming out as bisexual, there'd be no understanding from his folks. Despite the internet and TV show representations becoming more frequent, being bisexual wasn't much of an option around Hawkins. Steve knew if he dated a dude he'd be seen as gay with all the casual homophobia that came with it. He hadn't encountered a girl he wanted to reveal his genital situation to. Being bisexual and having to reveal his bottom bits to a guy? It seemed like a reality he wasn't going to live. General consensus was that it was easier to be a straight, cis dude, and Steve was inclined to agree.

So instead, there was some closeted experimentation. A few cocks sucked in a few locker rooms. Steve found his hookups perfectly content when he asked them not to reciprocate or touch him.

Girls worked similarly. Steve knew all the spots to park in or walk to with a picnic blanket. Sometimes it was just the sweet intimacy in kissing, feeling so adored, desired. But often there was a push for more, and Steve obliged if they did things his way. Nowhere else in his life did he feel as 'in control' then he did in the back seat of his car, with a pair of thighs trembling around his head.

He cycled through dates, getting off the prettiest girls in school, and he did it well enough that the rumors were all praise. No one brought up his avoidance to press his partners for his own climax, and Steve encouraged any whispers that implied he had gotten it. He wasn't struggling with a complete lack of self satisfaction. He found a select few packers that allowed him to really benefit just by rutting against another's body.

It all worked. His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes. He had a community, but it began to remind him of paper mache. There was no solid core, only pretty paper that could all melt away.

...

Then came Nancy Wheeler.

Steve was seventeen and he finally felt secure enough. Ready. Ready to let someone see him, know him, perhaps even his story. Nancy was thoughtful and kind. And Steve wanted to… he wanted to do more with her than what he'd done with others. She was so smart. So much smarter than Steve, and yet he could get her flustered, make her blush, and make her smile.

He started to let his guard down around Nancy. He let a lot of the persona he'd developed fade while hanging with her. He didn't need to keep it up like he did with Tommy, his 'best' friend. The bitchy quips and asshole brush offs were designed to keep people from getting too comfortable, to keep himself a little superior, separated, safe. With Nance, he wanted her to press, to touch, and ask. He was ready to answer.

…

He ended up being the one with questions.

Steve climbed up the front of the Wheeler house and in, through the window of Nancy's room, one night. Predictably, she was studying. They'd been not quite 'dating' for a little while… and unlike his other relationships, Steve wanted this one to go further. He wanted more. He wanted it to last.

The night started with helping Nancy study. Steve soon shook his head with laughter as it became clear she knew the subject matter, front and back. Nance was more than prepared for her test the next morning. They were both reclined on either ends of her bed and it struck Steve as though everything was comforting, soft. The lighting, the furnishings, even Nancy's shrewd yet shy smile…

"You know I want to do more with you, Nance," he said, not quite sure how else to word it.

"More than study?" She giggled, raising a manicured eyebrow.

"I normally..." He fidgeted with the flashcards before setting them down. Steve thought he'd mastered moving past nervousness. Guess this situation is different. Well, no reward without risk. "I don't open myself up to a lot of people. I don't actually, um do more than what we've been up to."

Nancy moved a hand out towards him. "Steve, it's okay… you don't have to-"

"-No. I really do. I want for it to be us. For there to be an us? You're not like the other girls."

Nancy's lips twisted into a small, curt smile as she looked away from him, the blush on her cheeks deepening. "Oh my God. Don't say it like that."

"Hah." Steve felt a grin spread over his own face, and he leaned toward her. "I mean you're really special. You Nancy, you make me want more, make me feel like we could have more."

"I think. I think I'd like that." Her eyes snapped back to him as her smile grew wider. "Could be really nice, being an 'us.'"

Steve breathed out a big sigh of relief. His happiness, over Nancy seemingly being on the same page, barely tempered his anxiety transferring to his next confession. Steve swallowed and looked into her sharp blue eyes. "Hey. So, I feel like there's something you ought to know. Something only my parents know about, but I trust you. I don't… believe that you would hurt me with it, if I tell you."

"Steve?" Nancy reached out and this time took his hand. She squeezed it lightly. "I would never knowingly try to hurt you. Sometimes you can be sort of an asshole jock." Steve laughed nervously. "But I wouldn't turn your secrets against you."

He nodded. She truly had such beautiful eyes. Steve stared at the shifting, gentle waters of her gaze and found his center.

"Nancy, I'm trans." The words sounded distant when he spoke them.

Nancy's eyes widened. They flashed over his body and then back up to his face. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Steve, I. Thank you I. I really appreciate that you told me."

Woah, I did it. Wow, okay. "Now you know," he said meekly, building back up the courage to say what he'd wanted to. "I'm serious about you Nancy. If this is a deal breaker... I need to know."

"No!" She looked as surprised as he assumed he did at the speed of her reply. "No, actually I'm good with this. I, I said I was ready to do more. I don't have an issue with the fact that you're, you," she said, squeezing his hand again and glancing down his body. "I mean, seems like some of your parts might just be more familiar to me than what I was expecting."

His mind went blank with the unexpected acceptance. He was so awestruck he couldn't think but to ask, "how would you… would you want to?" He trailed off in a daze, and Nancy leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. Steve had thought it out before but now it was real. "I've got the means to do it the y'know, 'classic' way. If you want."

"The classic way Steve? That makes it sound like I'm ordering a burger."

They laughed together and Steve felt lighter. "We can talk more later if you need time, it's no rush."

"Maybe. I think right now I'd like to kiss you again."

…

The days that followed their first time were confusing to say the least. Steve saw Nancy repeatedly with Jonathan. He took stalker shots of her from the woods behind his house! Steve tried not to even think about what could have happened if he had stood in his window that night. Byers didn't strike him as the type to 'out' somebody, but Steve was angry, scared. He finally opened up, just for it to all come crumbling down? Had Nancy been so disgusted by him that she had to run out and get biodick to erase the memory of his store bought member? Jealousy filled his head and hurt grew in his chest. Tommy and Carol were gleefully ready to turn on Nancy Wheeler after hearing that Steve may have been cheated on. It felt like friendship when they defaced buildings downtown, when they encouraged Steve and Jonathan to fight.

But even in the face of Steve's petty friends, magnifying his hurt, Nancy was true to her word. She didn't reveal his secret and she denied wrongdoing.

Would anyone in his life take that level of character assault and not lash back at him? Use any perceivable weakness to wound him? Later, Steve only wished that Jonathan hadn't had to beat his face in for him to get it. All his fears of discovery, betrayal, loss of the popularity that he'd clung to, believing it was his shield. Those relationships weren't an ounce of what he could have with Nancy. And someday maybe with others? He could have people in his life who really cared for him.

Steve broke with his old friends, cleaned graffiti, and sought after Nancy Wheeler.

The demogorgon adequately summed up why she'd acted so odd.

...

He and Nancy were good for a while after that, finding comfort in one another, and then it began to fall apart. Steve loved her, and she couldn't say it back. He tried to cope with her over Barb's death, but their methods weren't the same. Steve wanted to swallow the sadness and try to move on. Nancy wanted retribution, and a small vengeance. When she set out to find that closure, she didn't seek Steve's aid.

Steve wished that was the summary of his senior year troubles, but then Billy Hargrove came to town.

…

Hargrove had joined the basketball team. He was fresh from California, one of those high school guys who was plainly built like a full adult. His play style was aggressive, and the first practice he joined after making the team he dedicated to shoving Steve around. Steve's game on the court wasn't what it had been. Swimming and his swing at the batting cages were fine, but basketball… Steve now shied from contact heavy plays. His doctor had warned him about concussions after he mentioned a few 'falls' he'd taken that past year during his last check in.

However, Billy seemed determined. It was typical 'prison yard' mentality: establish dominance by beating the best. Steve had been the 'king,' and Billy appeared to hunger for the discarded crown.

After that practice, Steve changed into his swim suit in the locker room handicap stall like he normally did. He was ready for a couple laps in the pool after the mild humiliation on the court.

The locker room was still fairly full when Steve headed toward the pool exit; unfortunately, the crowd included Billy. He was showering and called out loudly enough that it echoed on the tiles, over the shower's spray. "So this 'king Steve' I've been hearing so much about is fucking allowed, flaunting even, that weird ass, full body thing." Billy sneered and shut off the shower head, stalking nude right up to Steve. "How'd you even swim like that man?"

"What, have you never seen a full body speedo? You wanna Google 'men's fastsuit' or do you just never watch Olympic coverage." Steve had defended himself before, but then it had always come with a degree of expectation. Naked Billy ranked high in unnerving and unexpected. He was far too close. Power move bullshit, Steve realized, grimacing. "Man, you don't have to like it and my performance proves it's not an issue, so." Steve moved to sidestep Billy but found himself blocked.

"Sure. You knoooow I'm wondering if you aren't just too self conscious Steve-o. Maybe you just need help with it, huh?" Billy snapped Steve's shoulder strap to punctuate his point.

Steve's skin began to buzz. There was definitely an undercurrent to the hostility in Billy's voice. One he didn't like.

Fuck.

Before he could truly panic, his teammate Brian spoke up, cutting the tension. "Dude, lay off. We need Steve. He's a solid player. Don't fuck with him like that."

"Really?" Billy stepped away, and grabbed a towel. "You pussies all agree?"

Steve was grateful to see the team members still in the locker shoot Billy looks that confirmed just that. Billy's gaze eventually landed on Tommy who had excitedly become Billy's bootlicker since the start of the school year.

For the first time since their friendship's explosive ending in the parking lot, Tommy didn't dig at Steve. He shrugged and mostly mumbled his reply. "We've all got our shit. Besides, I'm not gonna force a dude out of his swimsuit with a bunch of other guys in the locker room showers man. No one's gonna buy that's not some gay shit right there."

"No homo," another player called out from in back to a smattering of laughter. Billy dropped it.

Apart from the harassment 'dick looking ' at the urinals received, Steve found few instances where he was grateful for homophobia. That moment ranked.

...

His parents never asked him about the injuries, the bruising, or the scars that formed after. Though his mother once stopped him, offering cryptic advice concerning vitamin E, shirts that covered arms for all seasons, and make up tips for covering sections of 'damaged' skin.

Steve often wondered just what they thought had happened to him. Not that he volunteered any information. Not like he really could. Steve could tell it made them uncomfortable, even more adverse to his company. He only had the vague outlines of what they expected him to do after high school, but he'd begun to grow anxious about it after college rejection letters started to show up in the mail.

Nance had tried her best to help him, but his sports achievements weren't enough to balance out his piss poor grades. Steve graduated without any acceptance offers from a four year university. He absently wondered if the hits to the head over the years had anything to do with it, or worse (in his own opinion), his mental health.

Steve resigned himself to the fact that there would be no Harrington graduation party. After he walked across the stage and pulled his tassel to one side, he followed his parent's car home. Once the door to the house shut behind them all, his father began a tirade.

"This is ridiculous! The trouble, the cost, to keep your reckless 'identity choice' from scandalizing every friend and colleague our family has and now, no real college would take you?" The indignation was rich coming from his father. He'd never even suggested a specific school Steve should aim for, let alone help with applications. "Do you expect us to stay here another year? Hawkins," he spat out the name. "No. We're leaving this pointless little town. You are taking any office job I can get for you at the firm. This is what I get for giving you carte blanche you ungrateful shit," his father muttered. "I'm done being 'Mr. Nice Guy.'"

Steve's hand clenched as the words bounced around his mind like a pinball machine. "...that's what the last 18 years were? Nice? You barely speak to me. Here I've been grateful you rarely misgender me. No wonder. When was the last time you actually talked to me? If we don't count screaming, I can't remember. The move here was always about you. I would've stayed in Chicago. I wasn't the one who needed to hide who I am. That was always you two!" His eyes fluttered over his mother, including her in his address. He didn't raise his voice. He couldn't bear the thought of mimicking his father that way. "You signed my name change and gender indicator paperwork so others would think you didn't have some freak for a son. I look every inch like your son, so I better at least play that role for you? Look at the car you bought so you didn't have to drive me to practices or pick me up. You're moving?" Steve pushed out another clipped question. "When's the last time you were living here?"

"You're done." Chip Harrington's fist shook, his index finger pointing at Steve. "We're done. You're cut off. This is the last straw. You've rejected all we've tried to give you from your first name to a chance at a future. You disgust me. I want you gone by the time I'm done with work tomorrow."

The declarations and demand didn't fill him with anger. It only made him feel drained. It dawned on Steve that he'd fought to hold up his parents' approval of him and now he couldn't do it anymore. He let it slip away. His care for their opinion was gone. It wasn't a triumphant moment but it sure as hell wasn't a sad one.

…

Steve packed his things.

He didn't want to call Nancy, but he wasn't really sure what he was going to do. Hawkins was too small to have too much in the way of homeless youth resources, and he genuinely didn't want to leave Hawkins; it'd become home. His kids were still there, and he'd learned that they rarely stayed safe. He couldn't abandon them…

So he loaded the beamer with the documents and possessions he could claim entirely as his and got a job at the new mall. He pawned and sold clothes, shoes, and watches to scrounge up enough for rent and a deposit. Steve realized there was a new problem. Who would rent to him? Eighteen years old, no credit score, working minimum wage… disowned…

Steve finally broke down and called the only adult he thought could help: Jim Hopper.

He hadn't known what to expect when what was essentially a gruff acquaintance answered after three rings.

Hopper's first question was if Steve was safe.

"I move the car around to different spots each night. I know the public pool staff, so I go in early to shower there."

Hopper exhaled heavily. "How long have you been living out of the car?"

"Just a couple of weeks..."

"Moving the car regularly, that was smart kid." He sighed again. "Okay, we're gonna get you set up to find some section eight housing. You're going to qualify…" Hopper began before detailing all the assistance Steve did have available to him.

…

Hopper met him later that day to look at places with him. He cosigned on an apartment and helped Steve out with his truck, thrifting necessary furniture and basic cookware. Hopper asked once if Steve wanted the others to know, mentioning they'd want to help. Steve insisted Hopper's help was enough. Beyond enough. Steve had no idea how he could begin to thank him. The apartment rental had required a background check. The background check required Steve's previous name. Hopper saw. He knew and nothing changed.

After Steve was set up with necessities, Hop hugged him, and they never spoke of it again.

...

Steve's job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy was going fine, but he hadn't really 'bounced back.' His flirting attempts fell flat. He was grateful that his slump hadn't affected his relationships with the kids. At least he still kept in touch with them. He even had a co-worker who, for the first time since Nancy, would make him feel safe. He realized he could be himself with her, without having to guard any part of his identity. Unfortunately, this breakthrough came after more Upside Down fuckery and the Russian military. Literally the Russian military in Hawkins, IN.

Robin Buckley aided their ever-growing trauma-family and was rewarded the same way they all were: psychological and physical injury and eventually a non-disclosure agreement from the government.

She'd revealed her closeted truth to him. They were still loopy, on the public bathroom floor nearest the mall's movie theater, but no longer in an actively drugged state. Whatever 'truth serum,' chemical cocktail the Russian doctors injected them with, in an attempt to get them to reveal that they worked for someone other than Scoops Ahoy, had been yacked out. Robin told him of her frustration at Steve in high school. Girls fawned over him, and she felt she'd never have even one notice her.

Steve was in awe of Robin, supporting him, fighting to keep the kids safe, and now that trust. In return, Steve worked to make her smile, make her laugh. He'd definitely fallen for Robin but even he knew, could feel, that it was a different love than what he'd known for Nancy. Closer to what he felt for the kids.

I know there are supposed to be different types of love. I just dunno what this one is supposed to be called.

A 'mall fire' was the cover story for the Mindflayer's victims, the Russian madness, and, to everyone's horror, Hopper's death. Robin's parents picked her up from the emergency vehicles as did the rest of the kids' families, after being checked out by government agents. Even El bittersweetly had someone to take her home. A contingency plan few had known about made it so Joyce Byers now had custody of 'Jane Hopper.'

Hop was gone and everyone else had homes… families to return to. Steve was almost grateful that the EMTs said he needed to stay a night at the hospital under supervision. They'd determined he'd suffered another concussion. The news was practically a relief. Steve didn't have to haul himself back to his empty, one bedroom apartment yet.

'Hawkins lab' took care of the bill for Steve's treatment. He absently realized if they hadn't been aware of his medical history, they probably were now. Hopefully, there'd be no ramifications from the sketchy government types if he came to deal with them in the future. It seemed likely. The terrors of the Upside Down didn't feel far away. The scale of the Mindflayer gripped Steve's heart with an icy fear for the future villains they might face, seeping up from the 'other Hawkins.' Beings that seemed to be increasing in intelligence and purpose.

When Steve was released from Hawkins Memorial Hospital, he plugged his phone into his car charger. After he'd been cleared to drive, Steve had found the beamer waiting for him in the visitor parking lot. He decided that it was one of those things not worth questioning. Messages flooded in on his device, including repeated missed calls from Robin.

He'd given her a ride or two to work before, so he knew exactly where he needed to go. Steve drove directly to her house and parked on the street. The Buckleys lived in a one story, ranch style home, and Steve silently thanked the powers that be he didn't have to climb to get to Robin's window. It was about ten pm and he really didn't want to bother with the questions her parents might have. He carefully skirted the house before locating her room. The curtains were parted, revealing the warm glow of a lamp on a nightstand, illuminating Robin curled up on the bed inside. She was wrapped around a large plush shark. A laptop was on the bed, a few inches from her, playing what he vaguely recognized as the Trolls movie. Steve tapped on the window as cautiously as he could.

Robin jolted immediately, turning toward the sound. She let out a sort of garbled 'Steve,' and raced over to open the window, pulling him in.

They hugged each other tightly. "Dingus, you didn't answer your phone," she said, sounding choked as her head shook against his shoulder.

"Phone died."

Robin pulled back, her nose crinkled. "Steve, oh my god. They couldn't give you anything else to wear?"

"Didn't want to come over in the hospital gown," he replied, shrugging. He could have gone to his place first, but then again he couldn't've. He needed to see Robin again, know she was alright. The others had been through some degree of it all before (except for Erica, but she had Lucas to help her). The kids had their phones but also the walkies for unmonitored discussion of the events from the past week. He figured Robin would need him about as much as he needed her.

She grabbed the barely charged phone from his limp grip and plugged it into her charger. "Okay. That'll help some. Dustin's freaking out about you. The others too, but y'know."

"I know."

Dustin's sweet 'you die, I die,' declaration from the elevator hadn't left Steve's mind. But Dustin and the others had been updated on Steve's condition before his phone died. Robin seemed to already understand that 'worry' would be everyone's default for a while.

"Here. I've got to have some clothes that'll fit you." Robin turned toward her closet.

He'd already decided. Robin had been completely open with him, Steve felt he owed it to her to do the same. If he was being honest with himself, he craved a friendship where he wouldn't worry that slipping off his shirt would ruin it.

"Robin, wait. I need to tell you something."

She gave him her full attention while joking. "Can't it wait until after we burn that uniform?"

"Uh no. Actually not, uh, not really." Like a bandaid? Steve let out a steadying breath. "Robs, I'm… I'm trans."

He eyebrows shot up and then down. Her jaw dropped. "What? No." She shook her head. "What?"

"Yeah, ha, uh. Surprise? Is that…" He bit his lip, hating the shame and uncertainty beginning to boil in his stomach like a deep indigestion. "Is it um-"

Robin cut him off, arms wrapped around him in another hug. "You're okay," she said. "We're okay."

"Yeah?" He whispered the question, needing to hear the acceptance again but feeling ashamed to be so... needy.

"Yeah," Robin replied in a kind but firm tone. She pulled back slightly. "Though I still… Seriously 'king' Steve is lgb't?'" Questions began to pour out. "That's mind blowing. Who else knows? Oh gosh, who do you want to know? And why did you tell me? I mean I'd never out you… but this is a big deal right? Just, wow."

Steve kissed the top of her head and sort of grimaced. "I know, and you know. It wasn't something I was allowed to talk about and now, I dunno."

She cocked her head to the side and lightly rested her hand against his injured face. "Thanks for letting me in. Steve, really. Is it weird to tell you I think you might be my best friend?"

Steve's heart felt fit to burst. "Really?" His voice dropped to a whisper again.

"Really. You're my schmuck, remember?" She leaned up a little and kissed his less beaten cheek before turning back to her dresser.

Robin pulled out a large shirt that had a faded image of the Great Lakes on it and a pair of sweatpants she assured Steve were giant on her. He nodded and was about to remove his shirt when she suddenly stopped rambling about the clothes. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Robin took in a deep breath and spoke carefully. "Can I see…?" She moved her hand over her chest in a manner that looked almost as if she had failed to properly cross herself.

Steve thought about it. He wasn't ashamed of his chest. In fact, he loved it. The faded jagged scars next to the surgical ones. They were an emancipation, and, he loved the way his torso looked. But…

"No one's really seen it."

Robin's eyes were wide though her brow was pinched. "I'm sorry. Honestly, just curious. I want to hear your whole story. But I'm not gonna demand to know everything. You telling me in the first place is… huge. Just. I wanna be your person. So share whatever you're comfortable with. Know I'm interested and I care." She shrugged.

Steve chuckled. "My platonic person?" Platonic. That's it, the type of love I couldn't name.

She snorted. "Obviously. You forget?" She shoved his shoulder without any real force. "Not into dudes like that."

Steve took off the bloodied Scoops uniform, toed into the sweatpants, and then turned around so Robin could see.

"Wow," she gasped. She reached out but stopped halfway as though mentally schooling herself. "Can I um…"

"Yeah. Sure." He thought he might flinch or suddenly feel dysphoric with her hand on the left scar, but instead he was simply reminded his body was littered with other scars. His new bruises and cuts were sensitive, but they would heal like the others. Like the one Robin curiously starred at now.

Robin was mindful of the fresh damage, lightly tracing over his skin. "Steve… Did the first top surgery, uh, not take?"

He laughed and finished dressing.

They lay in Robin's bed that night. Steve started talking about his top surgery and, before he knew it, spilled his whole life story to her. Robin took it all in stride. It was difficult but liberating. She shared too, thoughts, feelings, reactions. It felt inaugural, like the first sleepover of many with his best friend. His person.

[erectionsandtea]

Stranger Things beach headcanons, for my new friend @willthecleric who didn't ask for this and idk if we are even friends but they reminded me how much I love writing headcanons!

Ships

Elmax - if max could pick el up, she would, but since she can't (or can she ??) she settles for holding el in a tight grip and trying to drag her into the waves. El is screaming (the good kind) and max is laughing and everyone else is laughing too, and eventually Dustin helps max pick el up and dump her into the water. Then he also pushes max in. ALSO max tries to teach el to boogie board

Dustin/Suzy - these cuties like go exploring and looking for things in the sand and tidepools and when they do find something they bring it back to show the others and talk facts about it, before they then release it back into it's habitat. Also they bring the snacks.

Mileven - mike lets el bury him in the sand because it makes her giggle and smile and oh so happy. Then he buries her and they turn her into a sand mermaid

Byler - our cute boys are calm and cool, they like just sit in the sand and bury their feet and sit super close together bc duh, love (I hope y'all agree with this one, I'm super new to byler so I don't quite have their dynamic figured out yet)

Lumax - you know these two are the ones who terrorize the beach, they like to run around and throw sand at each other (but then the others yell at them for getting sand in the food and bags and everyone's hair), so then they go into the water and have a splash fight and also try to dunk each other under the water. They bring the toys and other beach equipment like buckets and shovels and whatnot. Also totally trying to learn to surf together

Friendships

El/Will - these two build the most kickass awesome sandcastles, you know it's true, and sometimes they'll find a little tiny sandcrab that made it's way inside and they gently pick it up and put it down somewhere else so it doesn't get squished or anything

Mike/Max - these two get into a sandcastle competition with the above two, but they can't decide how to best build or what to build so they just end up arguing

The whole party - beach sports, duh. Volleyball, soccer, also sometimes chicken in the waves but the waves usually knock them over before the others can. BUT sometimes just the boys will play the beach sports and the girls will sit in the sand and watch and talk about/laugh at the boys

Teens

Steve - he's basically one of the kids, he plays beach sports with them but he's pretty good so the party fights over whose team he will be on. He is also a good babysitter who doesn't let things get too out of hand (well he tries to anyway, but most of the time ends up just yelling at them while they do stuff), sometimes he tries to help with sandcastles but he's not super great at it

Nancy - she builds sandcastles with them, but she also likes to sit and read under the umbrella or just watch

Jonathan - he also helps with sandcastles, sometimes he and Nancy will build one together, or sit and read together. Honestly Jonathan would rather just prepare the food and everyone let's him bc damn he makes good food (remember that one time he made breakfast?) Also he likes to sit and draw. ALSO he is in charge of the music.

The teens sometimes like to do beach sports by themselves but stancy will tease Jonathan (all in good fun and he knows that) bc they are better at that stuff than he is

Did I forget anything???

Please feel free to add this or just reblog it or talk to me about it, I love headcanons and discussions! 😄❤️

[redlegumes]

Eddie Munson, Learning a Whole Lot of Secrets in a Short Amount of Time

Chapter 3 of Little Monster: on AO3

Summary: Eddie Munson is on the run with the unexpected aid from Steve Harrington, who is flirty, and brave, and… hot??? Eddie finds himself joining a ragtag fellowship. (Transpires over the events of Stranger Things Season 4)

"Steve was amazing. Main character tier amazing. Maybe Eddie hadn't personally witnessed a redemption arc, but the misfits he looked out for and allied with helped fill in the blanks. Steve was a fighter, and when he was pulled under the waters by unseen monsters Eddie found he was willing to follow him into hell. And maybe it was a little more than that. They got to him in the nick of time, to defeat the demo-bats attempting to eat him alive. Steve still had energy to press on, away from a new incoming swarm. He was sweaty, bloodied, and barefoot. Like something out of a wet dre- uh, er fantasy. Pull it together Munson."

Chapter after the cut! Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

On the boat Steve stood up, radiant with his stupid suntan and yellow sweater. And then the sweater came off. Eddie's eyes eagerly wandered to the light but present chest hair and then… Oh. He glanced as nonchalantly as he could at Nancy and Robin; they didn't seem surprised in the least. So they both knew. Well shit, duh. Of course Wheeler knew. But then how…? The rumor mill around Steve Harrington throughout his high school career couldn't have been entirely fabricated. Had he managed his cover so well that no one he'd dated ever really peaked down his pants?

Eddie had recognized the top surgery scars instantly. He was queer, and he made it his prerogative to be up to date on news that impacted his communities. Trans rights were a big deal to him. Obviously they might be a bigger deal to Steve. Unconsciously wetting his lips, he felt his cheeks burn slightly. Harrington helping him (when everything pointed to Eddie being guilty for Chrissy’s death), his friendships with the kids, his forgiveness after Eddie had threatened Steve with a broken bottle, and his patience with 'haunted' Hawkins explanation. All of it. Just everything he’d seen from Steve over the last few days was eroding his cynicism toward the ‘King.’ Dustin’s adoration was actually deserved and now… FTM Steve Harrington?! Does that make him hotter? Am I mentally allowing myself to admit how hot he is?

Steve’s torso sported his even tan too, telling Eddie it'd been carefully cultivated. It wasn't what he would call complete vanity, but there was certainly a deeply rooted need in Steve to look his best. Even the parts of him no one in the whole of Hawkins had ever seen. Well, nobody apart from our voyagers here on the good ship lollipop.

What must it be like to live with those permanent reminders? Have a commitment that his flesh was altered so deeply for? Absolutely fucking metal. It was obvious the scars were older, and looked to be well treated; the left side had a full jagged line along the bottom of his pectoral and on the right the line appeared to fade around the middle. Incongruous to those were the comparably neat and faded marks from each nipple down to meet the different scarations. How exactly did he get those done?

Eddie had somehow caught Steve's sweater. He realized it had been tossed to him and froze. Steve looked to have unintentionally stilled at the sight of Eddie's reaction. They made brief eye contact. Steve had to have known Eddie was some type of queer (at the very least). Eddie wasn't terribly demonstrative about it, but he had his preferences, and he'd never hid them… sometimes to his detriment. Understanding looked to have settled in Steve's light brown eyes, and they were both released from the tension. Steve began to remove his shoes, and Eddie busied himself by wrapping a flashlight into a plastic bag for underwater illumination as Steve explained his swimming qualifications for the dive down. Searching for a gate to the Upside Down underwater seemed like a horrible horrible plan, but Eddie wasn’t the one doing it.

He handed Steve the flashlight, noting his appreciation. It had Eddie's stomach in knots. Christ, he is stunning. Moonlight illuminated Steve's face, and his gung-ho attitude towards facing the unknown? Genuinely heroic, that actually happens in real life? Outside of like, firefighters? Eddie automatically reached for a cigarette from his jacket pocket and barely got his lips around it before Robin threw it over board.

“Oh, come on Buckley! Now some poor fish is gonna get lung cancer.” I needed that nicotine.

“Good thing I care about you more than the fish, huh,” she replied.

Eddie hadn’t expected that sentiment. He knew their friendship was circumstantially solidifying far past the high school acquaintances they’d been, but that admittance was pretty sweet of her. Robs cared about him.

She pretty immediately went back to watching Steve as he slipped into the water and dived down. Robin and Nancy both looked wretched as Steve’s body disappeared into the dark waters; Eddie supposed, based on his anxious heartbeat, he did as well.

Steve popped back up soon after only to be pulled down again. Something from that other side had grabbed him. Eddie flipped out, but jumped in after him with the girls. Steve Harrington doesn’t get to be martyred right after I find out that he might be a worthwhile person to get to know.

...

Steve was amazing. Main character tier amazing.

Maybe Eddie hadn't personally witnessed a redemption arc, but the misfits he looked out for and allied with helped fill in the blanks. Steve was a fighter, and when he was pulled under the waters by unseen monsters Eddie found he was willing to follow him into hell.

And maybe it was a little more than that. They got to him in the nick of time, to defeat the demo-bats attempting to eat him alive. Steve still had energy to press on, away from a new incoming swarm. He was sweaty, bloodied, and barefoot. Like something out of a wet dre- uh, er fantasy. Pull it together Munson.

Eddie watched as Nancy tried to bind Steve's wounds. He turned away before he could be caught staring. Eddie had noticed that Steve had plenty of other scars on him. He was dying to ask about each one, know their story, know Steve’s story. Get it direct from Harrington’s mouth, because speculation and reputation had proven so wrong. But there wasn't the time for that. They were trapped in a horror show Hawkins. Not that the regular Hawkins was treating Eddie so great as of late. But at least that one has beer.

Steve had eased out of the shadows of 'other' Skull Rock with Nancy’s help. She was flirting with him! Teasing, giggles, looking up through lashes. Then Eddie clocked Robin's concerned gaze aimed at the exchange. Huh. We don't have time to unpack all that. What Eddie did know was that Wheeler left Harrington for Jonathan Byers. Maybe the circumstances were more nuanced than Eddie knew… but Dustin seemed certain Nancy had broken Steve's heart. To be fair, the kid threw that description around pretty casually. Didn't mean it couldn't be true.

Eddie stepped up and managed to slide between the pair. "All right… Is it ‘slugger?’ I dunno what they call swimmers, like casually. Or monster killers, honestly." Eddie eased Steve down on a rock and took off his battle vest. "Either way, take this humble token of my esteem. For your uh, modesty dude."

Steve looked a bit confused but shrugged the vest on as they exchanged glances. Eddie felt like they were both trying to telegraph different questions, but once the vest was on, with Nancy's scarf around his middle, Steve was covered. Eddie lightly adjusted it on him and their eyes met again. This time it was clear Steve understood.

"Thanks. I… thanks."

…

Eddie and Steve chatted in the woods. Eddie figured if Nancy could be shameless he could too. He flirted with Steve as they meandered to the Upside Down version of the Wheeler's home. They just talked and found common ground: Dustin Henderson. Eddie could hardly believe the way Steve looked at him, laughed, and even caught him when another earthquake rocked their surroundings. He was dirty, coated in blood and sweat, and yet… delectable. Just looking at Steve made Eddie feel a little lighter, and it felt like Steve was flirting right back.

He may not have fallen in love before, not outside of one sided crushes, but Eddie knew the signs. He'd read epics and looked over lyrics to songs that detailed romance and all its pitfalls. He knew he'd encountered a new kind of danger in the Upside Down, but he couldn't help himself. Eddie let Steve's warmth pull him in.

...

The next day, night, series of events? moved along at an unrelenting pace. They escaped the Upside Down, freed Nancy from a Vecna possession, and stole a Winnebago. He and Steve specifically had committed the grand larceny. Steve Harrington was his accomplice, their getaway driver. Eddie couldn't tell if the rush of endorphins and glee that pulsed through his body was entirely due to the theft.

A plan had been hatched to save Max and stop Vecna. It involved them plunging back into 'horror show Hawkins' again. Eddie didn't particularly want to die in battle, never saw it as a real possibility, but he was in it now. There were twerps to protect, a town to save, and a gorgeous man to follow into the breach once more.

…

There'd been a moment… gearing up with Steve. He'd changed in the War Zone, but Eddie was changing in the RV when Steve provided him with a new vest.

"Erica um grabbed it. I kinda need to soak and scrub yours before I get it back to you."

Eddie blushed at the fact that Erica had even thought of him. He threw the vest over his jacket and was brought out of his head by Steve's sudden proximity.

"Don't uh… don't worry about it," Eddie said softly before he could pull his bravado back together. He flashed Steve what he knew was his wicked smile. "Vest's yours, handsome," Eddie added with an exaggerated wink.

Steve snorted. "And they call me a flirt," he mumbled. His hands were on Eddie's new vest, adjusting it to lay even over Eddie's jacket.

Eddie's tongue felt thick when he asked, "are you?"

"That's what 'they' say," Steve replied, eyes flicking up to Eddie briefly.

Eddie knew he was in dangerous territory. Clearly pushing past what could be construed as 'getting to know a buddy,' or 'just being a little over affectionate.' "I've decided I'm desperately more interested in what you have to say on the matter."

"She grabbed you a belt too." Steve backed up only to return with a belt that looked like a fake bandolier. It was cool if not sort of impractical. Steve held it up and then snaked it around Eddie's hips, securing it at his front

Eddie's breath hitched in his lungs at the very proximity of Steve's hands near his crotch. He seemed larger than life, and yet Eddie realized Steve was maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He liked it, meant their lips were nearly even with one another. In a schadenfreude sort of way he was a little smug that at six feet he was taller than 'basketball star Steve.' The thoughts shot through his brain in rapid fire. Eddie often made associations that later he had trouble tracing the start to. He reminded himself to focus because, what am I even-

“So, what do you think?”

Eddie blinked, and found himself fixing his gaze on Steve's light brown eyes. “Uh, about the belt?”

“About me," Steve's tongue appeared to unconsciously dart out, wetting his lower lip, "being flirty.”

“I think it's uh, um, fine. Flirting can, y'know, brighten somebody's day. Never know who needs a bit of a pick me up. Flattery works with me for sure." He was rambling, Eddie's palms prickled with sweat.

Steve's fingers still rested on the now secured belt around his waist. His head angled ever so slightly, his smile somehow more present in his eyes. "What if-”

Whatever the question was Eddie wouldn’t find out. Lucas bounded up into the trailer, cutting Steve off. He didn't flinch away, or even immediately move his hands, and that astonished Eddie as much as Lucas's sudden intrusion.

“Is Dustin really gonna wear that gilly suit?”

Steve finally did move away as he laughed at the question.

Eddie shrugged. “Battle armor is what you make it. You know that, ranger.”

Lucas's smile was a touch bashful. They'd talked about the last few days briefly. Eddie knew Lucas had stayed around Jason's and his thugs to keep tabs on them once they began their 'freak hunt.' It had been a big risk, and Eddie appreciated it. Lucas had been through as many highs and lows that week as Eddie, but the freshman was being so strong for Max, for Erica. We’ll have to do some sort of one shot just for him around his schedule if we… when we get out of this.

“How's it feel to be leading a squad then,” Eddie teased.

“Heh. Don't tell Max that.” Steve huffed, and Lucas read a meaning in it Eddie hadn’t caught.

“Hey, she knows you'd all be with her if you could. And I mean, we are all there for her, doing this.”

Steve's grimace turned into what Eddie suspected was a performative smile as he clasped Lucas's shoulder. "Of course man. We're going to free her from this curse crap."

Eddie paused Steve right before he started on the steps after Lucas, back out to the group. He lowered his voice a little and let his hand slip from Steve's shoulder. Steve looked back at him. "If we don't. If we can’t save Red. Are we really prepared for that?"

Eddie saw a cold and rather daunting determination on Harrington's features before he continued out of the RV. "The plan is going to work. I won't lose another family."

...

He remembered flashes. Bats falling down around him from the sky. Flashes of Dustin's tears. Pieces of a promise he asked him to make. Flashes of Steve's strong jaw clenched. Tearing pain as he was moved, plunging back into loss of feeling all together.

…

He could hear beeping, the sterile smell of a hospital filling his nose. Eddie’s fingers twitched, feeling the sheets around him bare and starchy. The sounds became louder, his head throbbing, as the light through his eyelids grew brighter until he could see the veins in them. Eddie noticed a warmth and a weight on his knee. When he managed to slit his eyes open he could see the source of the heat. It was Steve, his body slumped over at the end of the bed sleeping, with a hand on Eddie’s knee.

…

Wayne was to be left out of the loop. Eddie was in a sort of protective custody limbo while stories were being sorted. The current line was that Eddie had died. Dustin delivered the news to his uncle, when even he didn't know if it was true or not. Only Steve has been allowed in to see Eddie (other than the suits) after he'd been brought in. Partially, because Steve was the one who had carried Eddie in.

Dustin explained all of this at lightning speed, Eddie's newly awakened brain barely holding it all in. Steve stood by the door, looking through the small window at the guards posted outside, gnawing his bottom lip.

"But now the party is cleared. It's all bundled up in the NDAs. You're gonna have to sign one of those too."

"Fun times for sure," Eddie said lightly, realizing Dustin had paused for his response. "But ah, boy wonder, you've left out Red. She's…?" He saw Steve's body language noticeably change, clutching his arms against his chest.

"She's in a coma, but she's alive, and El is back."

Eddie saw his heart rate on the monitor skip and stutter as the news was delivered. Steve flinched. His eyes finally landed back on Eddie.

“Do we have any idea of the time frame. Uh," Eddie swallowed, “for any of this?"

"Doctors say a week, maybe more, for you. Worried about infection since there was so much going on with the skin grafts," Steve said grimly.

Dustin looked a bit teary. "They don't know for Max. They're not sure, but El said she's gonna help her wake up."

Dustin left a little while after, hugging Eddie so that his body hurt, but he didn't care. Seeing that twerp smile again was everything. He was tired now though. There was so much to absorb in the surreal reality he'd woken up in. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier when Steve's muted apology reached his ears.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't there for you or Max when you needed me to be."

Least of all the surprises was that Steve was still there. Staying. He apparently would leave on and off to shower or change clothes, but he was one of the few who’d had access to Eddie and Max. So, he tried to stay at either one of their bedsides. Dustin had told Eddie when Steve had slipped out to use the bathroom that Steve, 'didn't want either of you to wake up alone.' Now Eddie was awake, and Steve was still there.

"Dude, you've got to be joking. Max would have died painfully days ago and so would I, if it hadn't been for this crazy fellowship. And you're here now." Right where I'm starting to think I need you to be. Eddie held out his hand as far as he could manage and made grabby motions at Steve.

Steve chuckled a little, rolling his eyes, before taking the chair closest to Eddie. He raised his hand, seemingly to take Eddie's, but he hesitated. Eddie glanced up to an inscrutable gaze and then back down as Steve gently took the offered touch with a little smile. "I'm here. I'll keep checking on Max… but I was going to visit with you too. As, uh, as long as you want me to."

Eddie ignored his heart rate increase in favor of focusing on Steve's calloused hand. There were newer cuts and scrapes. It made his stomach churn a little, wondering if any had been gained while Steve carted his sorry ass out of the Upside Down. The thought didn't completely dampen his desire to tease the man. "Mmm I dunno. Feels like a poor show of that infamous flirting of yours. Shouldn't there be flowers, or have rom coms given me the wrong impression?"

Eddie had hoped his sarcasm would clearly come through, but he overestimated Steve's capacity for it in that moment. Steve looked back at him slightly shocked. He stuttered, "did you want that now? I-"

It was Eddie's turn to laugh. "Christ no. Stevie, I was teasing. All that charming business is fun, but I think I like this better. The holding hands while you're telling me honest things. Think I might like it more."

"Oh," Steve said softly. He didn't let go of Eddie's hand, and Eddie could only assume Steve kept it in his even after Eddie'd drifted to sleep.

...

The 'party' members were regular visitors, bouncing from Eddie to Max. He hated that they were both bedridden when she woke and neither could visit the other. They were prohibited from taking or sending pictures and videos to one another while hospitalized which squashed Mike's idea to have them FaceTime. So, instead, Steve ended up relaying messages.

Eddie's release date was set and approaching steadily while things were sorted out on the public relations side of the whole government debacle. The 'natural disaster' that was consuming the town was being addressed with El Hopper's aid. Eddie was eager for one more day to pass because Uncle Wayne was finally going to get clearance to see him. Eddie was about to be allowed back into the world of the living. Steve had volunteered to deliver the news and gag order. Shockingly the suits allowed it.

“So Wayne didn’t kill you?” Eddie grinned brightly, sitting up in bed as Steve entered the room. His face was a bit ruddy. All that emotion must have gotten to him, though Eddie’d learned over the course of the last week from the kids and Robin, Steve never cried.

Steve smiled back and flopped down into his chair by Eddie’s bed. “Yeah! You’re alive and he’ll be coming tomorrow. You’re going home Eds. It’s really… we’re there.” Steve exhaled as though a weight lifted off his chest with the breath.

“It wasn’t too much? I mean It was obviously too much. I really have no way to ever repay you Harrington. I know the news coming from you had to be so much better than those shady fucks in black, making it seem like I was abducted, area fifty-one style. Though I mean, kinda not far from the truth… Steve, did you get probed? Did Vecna probe us via demo-bat?”

Steve chuckled, Eddie’s intended reaction, making his chest warm. He was constantly searching for little signs Steve was still interested in whatever flirtation they’d had going on. Showing up regularly to sit with him seemed like a good indicator but Eddie was skilled at contriving alternative reasons for receiving positive attention from Steve Harrington. Too late for me either way. Infection hasn’t killed me but those honey brown eyes will, Eddie thought ruefully.

“It was emotional. Best news I’ve been able to share, apart from when I told you about Max coming to. I like Wayne.” Steve’s lips pursed slightly. “This wasn’t the first time I’d gone to see him. Nancy and I did a similar thing when Barb didn’t make it… Visiting her parents, but they were convinced the opposite of, well, they thought that Barbara was alive when we knew she wasn’t, wasn’t coming home.” Steve trailed off a little before clearing his throat. “Wayne is really good people. I liked seeing him.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind you coming around in future. It’d help me out too. It might be rough when I tell him I’m moving out.”

“What?”

“After I heal. This summer, me and a few of the boys were going to rent a place together. Nothing fancy, just seemed like the right time for Wayne to have his own bedroom again.”

“Are you… is it still in Hawkins?” Emotion had drained from Steve's face. His normally lush looking lips now pressed thin told Eddie enough.

Hah I get why he thought that. Why would I stay? Eddie laughed a bit bitterly. “Stevie! Don’t you know? Even the anti-hero has to return to the status quo. I adventured, and now I return changed but better for it. I’m a sucker for a good fantasy arc.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I get the comparison you’re making but I understand staying despite,” he sighed, “everything. I’m glad you aren’t moving away.”

“Well someday I will,” Eddie insisted. Not gonna rot in Hawkins once the kids are safe. But for now, I probably need to stick with my family. He pictured Wayne, the members of Hellfire and his band, Nancy, Robin, Red, and Steve. “Should probably y’know fully heal before I can plan that level of escape.”

Steve nodded. They chatted a while longer, covering information about when Wayne could come and where his new place was. After they’d discussed all there was to checking out of Hawkins Memorial Hospital they fell into a companionable silence. It was something that would normally eat at Eddie. He often had to fill the lulls in conversation, itching as things got silent. With Steve it was becoming natural to be in his space. Content to breathe the same air, settle, sleep, or just dwell with the other near. Christ, that’s a sappy thought.

Eddie looked up to see Steve giving him a hard stare. He’d grown used to the occasionally reserved Steve. But this reminded him more of the times Steve would look like a scolded puppy before hardening. Eddie’d caught the thread to those moments now. Anytime Steve appeared to have not met a standard he’d get stony. Eddie was convinced Steve set these standards for himself, based on whatever Harrington’s ridiculously high personal expectations were. Like keeping Max safe when he was actively fighting Vecna, or the way he’d felt bad about the work he missed before picking shifts back up when he was still stitched and bandaged.

“Hey,” he said, catching Eddie’s attention. Steve shifted a little in his seat. “Thanks for never, I mean not that you're the sort of person that would, but I mean you never brought my, you never brought it up. Y’know?”

“What?” Eddie felt his eyebrows rise. “Your what Stevie?”

“My gender,” Steve said, his face still composed though almost grim.

Eddie scoffed. “What would I even… Man, it’s all good. You’re the same frustratingly, heroic, former-douchebag that I begrudgingly recognize I…” Can’t tear my eyes from; want to jump the bones of bones; would chase like a lovesick fool? Eddie went with, “‘I can no longer hate.’ For the sake of our son," he teasingly added. The warm spark was back in Steve’s eye. Eddie wasn’t always an amazing wordsmith, so he felt himself puff with pride that what he had said worked.

“Nah, I don’t believe you should use a child as a pawn in a relationship,” Steve said with plenty of fake disapproval energy.

“Speak of the small devil,” Eddie murmured, catching sight of curly hair spilling out from under a ballcap through the window in the door.

“Huh?” Dustin entered with arms full of snack machine goodies. “What the hell are you two gossiping about. Hey, since when do you two gossip?”

“Just talking about you Dusty-poo,” Eddie crooned.

“That's… I don’t know if that's disconcerting or not.”

The reason Dustin was carrying so many snacks appeared behind him, as El walked in, Will and Mike tagging along behind her with more vending machine treasures.

“We’re just trying to figure out the best co-parenting methods, post-apocalypse,” Steve offered, plucking a Butterfinger out of the pile in Dustin’s arms. He reached over, and relieved a Yoo-Hoo from Mike, handing it over to Eddie.

Dustin raised an eyebrow. “Really? Neither of you should be parents.”

“After handling you all? Please?” Steve snorted.

“Handling,” Dustin exclaimed.

“You’re lucky your two Dads have each others’ numbers now,” Eddie added loudly. “Frankly, makes it easier to make sure you’re not trying anything stupid.”

“YOU TWO DO EQUALLY STUPID-”

Eddie was ready to rise to the challenge Dustin was giving. His feelings over the kid hurting himself to get back through the trailer portal were convoluted at best. The exchange was about to go from joking to serious when he saw Will cross his arms and stick out a hip from the corner of his eye.

Will didn’t whisper as he turned his head toward El. “Max is right. It'd be easier if they just got together already.”

Dustin was hollering, Steve trying to calm him as Mike brought up the ‘trapped in an Evil Russian elevator’ as unfit parenting. So maybe I didn’t just hear that. Or Max thinks me and Steve… Hell, Will thinks me and Steve…? No. Eddie felt his cheeks warm all the same. Steve had just managed to get Dustin to lower his voice, definitely unaware of Will’s comment.

Eddie focused back on Dustin, with an evil thought. “What’s that son? Your ‘ol pops can't hear you bitch over all these machines.”

“I said, I had no idea the two of you together would be such a pain in my ass!”

There was a silent beat before Steve and Eddie responded at the same time.

“-Language Henderson,-” Steve said confidently as Eddie cried, “-tone butthead-”

The gang laughed at Dustin’s defiant pout. Eddie was optimistic. The future feels like a real possibility again. He looked at Steve’s smiling face, and it looks bright.

[redlegumes]

My first self reblog /(•○•||)\ Another highlight from Chapter 2 of Little Monster

This chapter does have a happy ending!

Excerpt cw: parental transphobia

"This is ridiculous! The trouble, the cost, to keep your reckless 'identity choice' from scandalizing every friend and colleague our family has and now, no real college would take you?" The indignation was rich coming from his father. He'd never even suggested a specific school Steve should aim for, let alone help with applications. "Do you expect us to stay here another year? Hawkins," he spat out the name. "No. We're leaving this pointless little town. You are taking any office job I can get for you at the firm. This is what I get for giving you carte blanche you ungrateful shit," his father muttered. "I'm done being 'Mr. Nice Guy.'"

Steve's hand clenched as the words bounced around his mind like a pinball machine. "...that's what the last 18 years were? Nice? You barely speak to me. Here I've been grateful you rarely misgender me. No wonder. When was the last time you actually talked to me? If we don't count screaming, I can't remember. The move here was always about you. I would've stayed in Chicago. I wasn't the one who needed to hide who I am. That was always you two!" His eyes fluttered over his mother, including her in his address. He didn't raise his voice. He couldn't bear the thought of mimicking his father that way. "You signed my name change and gender indicator paperwork so others would think you didn't have some freak for a son. I look every inch like your son, so I better at least play that role for you? Look at the car you bought so you didn't have to drive me to practices or pick me up. You're moving?" Steve pushed out another clipped question. "When's the last time you were living here?"

Little Monster Chapter 2:

On AO3

"His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes."

Steve Harrington finds and loses love, finishes high school stealth, and is pulled into the mysteries and horrors of the Upside Down. (Transpires over the events of Stranger Things Seasons 1-3)

CHAPTER AFTER THE CUT IS MATURE 18+

Notes:

A lot of CW's for this chapter, trying to cover my bases.

I'd say I hope the warnings don't discourage you from reading, but they're literally here so people can make informed choices about the entertainment they're consuming. So please read the warnings.

CW: Mild homophobia, parental transphobia, mild internalized transphobia, canon based underaged sexual history discussed as well as high school aged Steve and Nancy sex talk (mature but not explicit), brief bully Billy Hargrove appearance, high school locker room verbal bullying/homophobia, Steve Harrington has bad parents, verbal abuse, disownment

Turning sixteen meant Steve secured a driver's license with his gender and name, thanks to his birth certificate being handled when it was. It also meant testosterone, thanks to his doctor in Chicago that he checked in with virtually. Steve was set up with a prescription and tracked down an online pharmacy that would ship it directly to the house. He didn't mind the needle aspect, it felt like a small price to pay for what he received in exchange. The bottom growth alone was so satisfying. Packers were fine and all, his prosthetics helped immensely, but having his own body shift closer to what he knew it should be was gratifying in ways he couldn't express. But of course there wasn't anyone to share his euphoria with either.

Steve was grateful for what his parent’s money afforded him and his access to medication, but he couldn't tell them that. They only wanted to see him in a tidy little gender box. He was their son, and he 'should be able to manage and maintain that identity' without slipping in the slightest. If anything, as soon as he received the car keys to the BMW it felt as though they were pulling away. Chip and Mitzi Harrington spent more and more time in Indianapolis, and when they were home, the pressure on Steve to present as the perfect son had a whiplash effect on him. One moment he was meant not to care about their frequent abandonment and the next he was expected to treat them as though they'd hung the moon.

Steve started to feel it wasn't his parent's good opinion of him that he needed, it'd never truly been. They weren't going to suddenly love and support him, no matter what hurdles he overcame, the hoops he jumped through. They weren't going to give him more of their time or consideration.

Steve's priorities shifted.

He could use his money and lack of supervision to his advantage. Steve's life alone, at home when his folks were away, didn't need to be a living mausoleum. He could get love and attention from his friends. While he couldn't completely squash that desire to get his parent's acceptance, this would do, and once he started, they didn't even seem to notice. He was fully integrated in the Hawkins High School power dynamic. Whether or not he passed was no longer worry number one. He now had to worry about other incidents. For example, how fast an ambitious sophomore, Cynthia Evans, tried to get her hand down his pants after baseball practice.

Steve liked girls. They were soft. He'd never noticed, before going on T, just how much softer they felt. They smelled lovely too. He found femininity on someone else wasn't a turn off at all. There was something affirming in the differences he clearly saw and felt between himself and female partners. They were foreign yet familiar, the paradox lightly plaguing him as he began to date around. Dating was part of the popularity deal. It also afforded him a little more leeway with his own identity. Steve cared about his hair and clothes obviously because he was a lady killer, not a 'homo' with feminine tendencies that he feared would one day be some sort of smoking gun that outed him.

Though, he still noticed guys.

Men were exciting in a different way. Certain traits, a muscle or light pattern of chest hair, these things drew Steve in beyond just gender envy. But even if he could keep his trans status secret while coming out as bisexual, there'd be no understanding from his folks. Despite the internet and TV show representations becoming more frequent, being bisexual wasn't much of an option around Hawkins. Steve knew if he dated a dude he'd be seen as gay with all the casual homophobia that came with it. He hadn't encountered a girl he wanted to reveal his genital situation to. Being bisexual and having to reveal his bottom bits to a guy? It seemed like a reality he wasn't going to live. General consensus was that it was easier to be a straight, cis dude, and Steve was inclined to agree.

So instead, there was some closeted experimentation. A few cocks sucked in a few locker rooms. Steve found his hookups perfectly content when he asked them not to reciprocate or touch him.

Girls worked similarly. Steve knew all the spots to park in or walk to with a picnic blanket. Sometimes it was just the sweet intimacy in kissing, feeling so adored, desired. But often there was a push for more, and Steve obliged if they did things his way. Nowhere else in his life did he feel as 'in control' then he did in the back seat of his car, with a pair of thighs trembling around his head.

He cycled through dates, getting off the prettiest girls in school, and he did it well enough that the rumors were all praise. No one brought up his avoidance to press his partners for his own climax, and Steve encouraged any whispers that implied he had gotten it. He wasn't struggling with a complete lack of self satisfaction. He found a select few packers that allowed him to really benefit just by rutting against another's body.

It all worked. His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes. He had a community, but it began to remind him of paper mache. There was no solid core, only pretty paper that could all melt away.

...

Then came Nancy Wheeler.

Steve was seventeen and he finally felt secure enough. Ready. Ready to let someone see him, know him, perhaps even his story. Nancy was thoughtful and kind. And Steve wanted to… he wanted to do more with her than what he'd done with others. She was so smart. So much smarter than Steve, and yet he could get her flustered, make her blush, and make her smile.

He started to let his guard down around Nancy. He let a lot of the persona he'd developed fade while hanging with her. He didn't need to keep it up like he did with Tommy, his 'best' friend. The bitchy quips and asshole brush offs were designed to keep people from getting too comfortable, to keep himself a little superior, separated, safe. With Nance, he wanted her to press, to touch, and ask. He was ready to answer.

…

He ended up being the one with questions.

Steve climbed up the front of the Wheeler house and in, through the window of Nancy's room, one night. Predictably, she was studying. They'd been not quite 'dating' for a little while… and unlike his other relationships, Steve wanted this one to go further. He wanted more. He wanted it to last.

The night started with helping Nancy study. Steve soon shook his head with laughter as it became clear she knew the subject matter, front and back. Nance was more than prepared for her test the next morning. They were both reclined on either ends of her bed and it struck Steve as though everything was comforting, soft. The lighting, the furnishings, even Nancy's shrewd yet shy smile…

"You know I want to do more with you, Nance," he said, not quite sure how else to word it.

"More than study?" She giggled, raising a manicured eyebrow.

"I normally..." He fidgeted with the flashcards before setting them down. Steve thought he'd mastered moving past nervousness. Guess this situation is different. Well, no reward without risk. "I don't open myself up to a lot of people. I don't actually, um do more than what we've been up to."

Nancy moved a hand out towards him. "Steve, it's okay… you don't have to-"

"-No. I really do. I want for it to be us. For there to be an us? You're not like the other girls."

Nancy's lips twisted into a small, curt smile as she looked away from him, the blush on her cheeks deepening. "Oh my God. Don't say it like that."

"Hah." Steve felt a grin spread over his own face, and he leaned toward her. "I mean you're really special. You Nancy, you make me want more, make me feel like we could have more."

"I think. I think I'd like that." Her eyes snapped back to him as her smile grew wider. "Could be really nice, being an 'us.'"

Steve breathed out a big sigh of relief. His happiness, over Nancy seemingly being on the same page, barely tempered his anxiety transferring to his next confession. Steve swallowed and looked into her sharp blue eyes. "Hey. So, I feel like there's something you ought to know. Something only my parents know about, but I trust you. I don't… believe that you would hurt me with it, if I tell you."

"Steve?" Nancy reached out and this time took his hand. She squeezed it lightly. "I would never knowingly try to hurt you. Sometimes you can be sort of an asshole jock." Steve laughed nervously. "But I wouldn't turn your secrets against you."

He nodded. She truly had such beautiful eyes. Steve stared at the shifting, gentle waters of her gaze and found his center.

"Nancy, I'm trans." The words sounded distant when he spoke them.

Nancy's eyes widened. They flashed over his body and then back up to his face. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Steve, I. Thank you I. I really appreciate that you told me."

Woah, I did it. Wow, okay. "Now you know," he said meekly, building back up the courage to say what he'd wanted to. "I'm serious about you Nancy. If this is a deal breaker... I need to know."

"No!" She looked as surprised as he assumed he did at the speed of her reply. "No, actually I'm good with this. I, I said I was ready to do more. I don't have an issue with the fact that you're, you," she said, squeezing his hand again and glancing down his body. "I mean, seems like some of your parts might just be more familiar to me than what I was expecting."

His mind went blank with the unexpected acceptance. He was so awestruck he couldn't think but to ask, "how would you… would you want to?" He trailed off in a daze, and Nancy leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. Steve had thought it out before but now it was real. "I've got the means to do it the y'know, 'classic' way. If you want."

"The classic way Steve? That makes it sound like I'm ordering a burger."

They laughed together and Steve felt lighter. "We can talk more later if you need time, it's no rush."

"Maybe. I think right now I'd like to kiss you again."

…

The days that followed their first time were confusing to say the least. Steve saw Nancy repeatedly with Jonathan. He took stalker shots of her from the woods behind his house! Steve tried not to even think about what could have happened if he had stood in his window that night. Byers didn't strike him as the type to 'out' somebody, but Steve was angry, scared. He finally opened up, just for it to all come crumbling down? Had Nancy been so disgusted by him that she had to run out and get biodick to erase the memory of his store bought member? Jealousy filled his head and hurt grew in his chest. Tommy and Carol were gleefully ready to turn on Nancy Wheeler after hearing that Steve may have been cheated on. It felt like friendship when they defaced buildings downtown, when they encouraged Steve and Jonathan to fight.

But even in the face of Steve's petty friends, magnifying his hurt, Nancy was true to her word. She didn't reveal his secret and she denied wrongdoing.

Would anyone in his life take that level of character assault and not lash back at him? Use any perceivable weakness to wound him? Later, Steve only wished that Jonathan hadn't had to beat his face in for him to get it. All his fears of discovery, betrayal, loss of the popularity that he'd clung to, believing it was his shield. Those relationships weren't an ounce of what he could have with Nancy. And someday maybe with others? He could have people in his life who really cared for him.

Steve broke with his old friends, cleaned graffiti, and sought after Nancy Wheeler.

The demogorgon adequately summed up why she'd acted so odd.

...

He and Nancy were good for a while after that, finding comfort in one another, and then it began to fall apart. Steve loved her, and she couldn't say it back. He tried to cope with her over Barb's death, but their methods weren't the same. Steve wanted to swallow the sadness and try to move on. Nancy wanted retribution, and a small vengeance. When she set out to find that closure, she didn't seek Steve's aid.

Steve wished that was the summary of his senior year troubles, but then Billy Hargrove came to town.

…

Hargrove had joined the basketball team. He was fresh from California, one of those high school guys who was plainly built like a full adult. His play style was aggressive, and the first practice he joined after making the team he dedicated to shoving Steve around. Steve's game on the court wasn't what it had been. Swimming and his swing at the batting cages were fine, but basketball… Steve now shied from contact heavy plays. His doctor had warned him about concussions after he mentioned a few 'falls' he'd taken that past year during his last check in.

However, Billy seemed determined. It was typical 'prison yard' mentality: establish dominance by beating the best. Steve had been the 'king,' and Billy appeared to hunger for the discarded crown.

After that practice, Steve changed into his swim suit in the locker room handicap stall like he normally did. He was ready for a couple laps in the pool after the mild humiliation on the court.

The locker room was still fairly full when Steve headed toward the pool exit; unfortunately, the crowd included Billy. He was showering and called out loudly enough that it echoed on the tiles, over the shower's spray. "So this 'king Steve' I've been hearing so much about is fucking allowed, flaunting even, that weird ass, full body thing." Billy sneered and shut off the shower head, stalking nude right up to Steve. "How'd you even swim like that man?"

"What, have you never seen a full body speedo? You wanna Google 'men's fastsuit' or do you just never watch Olympic coverage." Steve had defended himself before, but then it had always come with a degree of expectation. Naked Billy ranked high in unnerving and unexpected. He was far too close. Power move bullshit, Steve realized, grimacing. "Man, you don't have to like it and my performance proves it's not an issue, so." Steve moved to sidestep Billy but found himself blocked.

"Sure. You knoooow I'm wondering if you aren't just too self conscious Steve-o. Maybe you just need help with it, huh?" Billy snapped Steve's shoulder strap to punctuate his point.

Steve's skin began to buzz. There was definitely an undercurrent to the hostility in Billy's voice. One he didn't like.

Fuck.

Before he could truly panic, his teammate Brian spoke up, cutting the tension. "Dude, lay off. We need Steve. He's a solid player. Don't fuck with him like that."

"Really?" Billy stepped away, and grabbed a towel. "You pussies all agree?"

Steve was grateful to see the team members still in the locker shoot Billy looks that confirmed just that. Billy's gaze eventually landed on Tommy who had excitedly become Billy's bootlicker since the start of the school year.

For the first time since their friendship's explosive ending in the parking lot, Tommy didn't dig at Steve. He shrugged and mostly mumbled his reply. "We've all got our shit. Besides, I'm not gonna force a dude out of his swimsuit with a bunch of other guys in the locker room showers man. No one's gonna buy that's not some gay shit right there."

"No homo," another player called out from in back to a smattering of laughter. Billy dropped it.

Apart from the harassment 'dick looking ' at the urinals received, Steve found few instances where he was grateful for homophobia. That moment ranked.

...

His parents never asked him about the injuries, the bruising, or the scars that formed after. Though his mother once stopped him, offering cryptic advice concerning vitamin E, shirts that covered arms for all seasons, and make up tips for covering sections of 'damaged' skin.

Steve often wondered just what they thought had happened to him. Not that he volunteered any information. Not like he really could. Steve could tell it made them uncomfortable, even more adverse to his company. He only had the vague outlines of what they expected him to do after high school, but he'd begun to grow anxious about it after college rejection letters started to show up in the mail.

Nance had tried her best to help him, but his sports achievements weren't enough to balance out his piss poor grades. Steve graduated without any acceptance offers from a four year university. He absently wondered if the hits to the head over the years had anything to do with it, or worse (in his own opinion), his mental health.

Steve resigned himself to the fact that there would be no Harrington graduation party. After he walked across the stage and pulled his tassel to one side, he followed his parent's car home. Once the door to the house shut behind them all, his father began a tirade.

"This is ridiculous! The trouble, the cost, to keep your reckless 'identity choice' from scandalizing every friend and colleague our family has and now, no real college would take you?" The indignation was rich coming from his father. He'd never even suggested a specific school Steve should aim for, let alone help with applications. "Do you expect us to stay here another year? Hawkins," he spat out the name. "No. We're leaving this pointless little town. You are taking any office job I can get for you at the firm. This is what I get for giving you carte blanche you ungrateful shit," his father muttered. "I'm done being 'Mr. Nice Guy.'"

Steve's hand clenched as the words bounced around his mind like a pinball machine. "...that's what the last 18 years were? Nice? You barely speak to me. Here I've been grateful you rarely misgender me. No wonder. When was the last time you actually talked to me? If we don't count screaming, I can't remember. The move here was always about you. I would've stayed in Chicago. I wasn't the one who needed to hide who I am. That was always you two!" His eyes fluttered over his mother, including her in his address. He didn't raise his voice. He couldn't bear the thought of mimicking his father that way. "You signed my name change and gender indicator paperwork so others would think you didn't have some freak for a son. I look every inch like your son, so I better at least play that role for you? Look at the car you bought so you didn't have to drive me to practices or pick me up. You're moving?" Steve pushed out another clipped question. "When's the last time you were living here?"

"You're done." Chip Harrington's fist shook, his index finger pointing at Steve. "We're done. You're cut off. This is the last straw. You've rejected all we've tried to give you from your first name to a chance at a future. You disgust me. I want you gone by the time I'm done with work tomorrow."

The declarations and demand didn't fill him with anger. It only made him feel drained. It dawned on Steve that he'd fought to hold up his parents' approval of him and now he couldn't do it anymore. He let it slip away. His care for their opinion was gone. It wasn't a triumphant moment but it sure as hell wasn't a sad one.

…

Steve packed his things.

He didn't want to call Nancy, but he wasn't really sure what he was going to do. Hawkins was too small to have too much in the way of homeless youth resources, and he genuinely didn't want to leave Hawkins; it'd become home. His kids were still there, and he'd learned that they rarely stayed safe. He couldn't abandon them…

So he loaded the beamer with the documents and possessions he could claim entirely as his and got a job at the new mall. He pawned and sold clothes, shoes, and watches to scrounge up enough for rent and a deposit. Steve realized there was a new problem. Who would rent to him? Eighteen years old, no credit score, working minimum wage… disowned…

Steve finally broke down and called the only adult he thought could help: Jim Hopper.

He hadn't known what to expect when what was essentially a gruff acquaintance answered after three rings.

Hopper's first question was if Steve was safe.

"I move the car around to different spots each night. I know the public pool staff, so I go in early to shower there."

Hopper exhaled heavily. "How long have you been living out of the car?"

"Just a couple of weeks..."

"Moving the car regularly, that was smart kid." He sighed again. "Okay, we're gonna get you set up to find some section eight housing. You're going to qualify…" Hopper began before detailing all the assistance Steve did have available to him.

…

Hopper met him later that day to look at places with him. He cosigned on an apartment and helped Steve out with his truck, thrifting necessary furniture and basic cookware. Hopper asked once if Steve wanted the others to know, mentioning they'd want to help. Steve insisted Hopper's help was enough. Beyond enough. Steve had no idea how he could begin to thank him. The apartment rental had required a background check. The background check required Steve's previous name. Hopper saw. He knew and nothing changed.

After Steve was set up with necessities, Hop hugged him, and they never spoke of it again.

...

Steve's job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy was going fine, but he hadn't really 'bounced back.' His flirting attempts fell flat. He was grateful that his slump hadn't affected his relationships with the kids. At least he still kept in touch with them. He even had a co-worker who, for the first time since Nancy, would make him feel safe. He realized he could be himself with her, without having to guard any part of his identity. Unfortunately, this breakthrough came after more Upside Down fuckery and the Russian military. Literally the Russian military in Hawkins, IN.

Robin Buckley aided their ever-growing trauma-family and was rewarded the same way they all were: psychological and physical injury and eventually a non-disclosure agreement from the government.

She'd revealed her closeted truth to him. They were still loopy, on the public bathroom floor nearest the mall's movie theater, but no longer in an actively drugged state. Whatever 'truth serum,' chemical cocktail the Russian doctors injected them with, in an attempt to get them to reveal that they worked for someone other than Scoops Ahoy, had been yacked out. Robin told him of her frustration at Steve in high school. Girls fawned over him, and she felt she'd never have even one notice her.

Steve was in awe of Robin, supporting him, fighting to keep the kids safe, and now that trust. In return, Steve worked to make her smile, make her laugh. He'd definitely fallen for Robin but even he knew, could feel, that it was a different love than what he'd known for Nancy. Closer to what he felt for the kids.

I know there are supposed to be different types of love. I just dunno what this one is supposed to be called.

A 'mall fire' was the cover story for the Mindflayer's victims, the Russian madness, and, to everyone's horror, Hopper's death. Robin's parents picked her up from the emergency vehicles as did the rest of the kids' families, after being checked out by government agents. Even El bittersweetly had someone to take her home. A contingency plan few had known about made it so Joyce Byers now had custody of 'Jane Hopper.'

Hop was gone and everyone else had homes… families to return to. Steve was almost grateful that the EMTs said he needed to stay a night at the hospital under supervision. They'd determined he'd suffered another concussion. The news was practically a relief. Steve didn't have to haul himself back to his empty, one bedroom apartment yet.

'Hawkins lab' took care of the bill for Steve's treatment. He absently realized if they hadn't been aware of his medical history, they probably were now. Hopefully, there'd be no ramifications from the sketchy government types if he came to deal with them in the future. It seemed likely. The terrors of the Upside Down didn't feel far away. The scale of the Mindflayer gripped Steve's heart with an icy fear for the future villains they might face, seeping up from the 'other Hawkins.' Beings that seemed to be increasing in intelligence and purpose.

When Steve was released from Hawkins Memorial Hospital, he plugged his phone into his car charger. After he'd been cleared to drive, Steve had found the beamer waiting for him in the visitor parking lot. He decided that it was one of those things not worth questioning. Messages flooded in on his device, including repeated missed calls from Robin.

He'd given her a ride or two to work before, so he knew exactly where he needed to go. Steve drove directly to her house and parked on the street. The Buckleys lived in a one story, ranch style home, and Steve silently thanked the powers that be he didn't have to climb to get to Robin's window. It was about ten pm and he really didn't want to bother with the questions her parents might have. He carefully skirted the house before locating her room. The curtains were parted, revealing the warm glow of a lamp on a nightstand, illuminating Robin curled up on the bed inside. She was wrapped around a large plush shark. A laptop was on the bed, a few inches from her, playing what he vaguely recognized as the Trolls movie. Steve tapped on the window as cautiously as he could.

Robin jolted immediately, turning toward the sound. She let out a sort of garbled 'Steve,' and raced over to open the window, pulling him in.

They hugged each other tightly. "Dingus, you didn't answer your phone," she said, sounding choked as her head shook against his shoulder.

"Phone died."

Robin pulled back, her nose crinkled. "Steve, oh my god. They couldn't give you anything else to wear?"

"Didn't want to come over in the hospital gown," he replied, shrugging. He could have gone to his place first, but then again he couldn't've. He needed to see Robin again, know she was alright. The others had been through some degree of it all before (except for Erica, but she had Lucas to help her). The kids had their phones but also the walkies for unmonitored discussion of the events from the past week. He figured Robin would need him about as much as he needed her.

She grabbed the barely charged phone from his limp grip and plugged it into her charger. "Okay. That'll help some. Dustin's freaking out about you. The others too, but y'know."

"I know."

Dustin's sweet 'you die, I die,' declaration from the elevator hadn't left Steve's mind. But Dustin and the others had been updated on Steve's condition before his phone died. Robin seemed to already understand that 'worry' would be everyone's default for a while.

"Here. I've got to have some clothes that'll fit you." Robin turned toward her closet.

He'd already decided. Robin had been completely open with him, Steve felt he owed it to her to do the same. If he was being honest with himself, he craved a friendship where he wouldn't worry that slipping off his shirt would ruin it.

"Robin, wait. I need to tell you something."

She gave him her full attention while joking. "Can't it wait until after we burn that uniform?"

"Uh no. Actually not, uh, not really." Like a bandaid? Steve let out a steadying breath. "Robs, I'm… I'm trans."

He eyebrows shot up and then down. Her jaw dropped. "What? No." She shook her head. "What?"

"Yeah, ha, uh. Surprise? Is that…" He bit his lip, hating the shame and uncertainty beginning to boil in his stomach like a deep indigestion. "Is it um-"

Robin cut him off, arms wrapped around him in another hug. "You're okay," she said. "We're okay."

"Yeah?" He whispered the question, needing to hear the acceptance again but feeling ashamed to be so... needy.

"Yeah," Robin replied in a kind but firm tone. She pulled back slightly. "Though I still… Seriously 'king' Steve is lgb't?'" Questions began to pour out. "That's mind blowing. Who else knows? Oh gosh, who do you want to know? And why did you tell me? I mean I'd never out you… but this is a big deal right? Just, wow."

Steve kissed the top of her head and sort of grimaced. "I know, and you know. It wasn't something I was allowed to talk about and now, I dunno."

She cocked her head to the side and lightly rested her hand against his injured face. "Thanks for letting me in. Steve, really. Is it weird to tell you I think you might be my best friend?"

Steve's heart felt fit to burst. "Really?" His voice dropped to a whisper again.

"Really. You're my schmuck, remember?" She leaned up a little and kissed his less beaten cheek before turning back to her dresser.

Robin pulled out a large shirt that had a faded image of the Great Lakes on it and a pair of sweatpants she assured Steve were giant on her. He nodded and was about to remove his shirt when she suddenly stopped rambling about the clothes. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Robin took in a deep breath and spoke carefully. "Can I see…?" She moved her hand over her chest in a manner that looked almost as if she had failed to properly cross herself.

Steve thought about it. He wasn't ashamed of his chest. In fact, he loved it. The faded jagged scars next to the surgical ones. They were an emancipation, and, he loved the way his torso looked. But…

"No one's really seen it."

Robin's eyes were wide though her brow was pinched. "I'm sorry. Honestly, just curious. I want to hear your whole story. But I'm not gonna demand to know everything. You telling me in the first place is… huge. Just. I wanna be your person. So share whatever you're comfortable with. Know I'm interested and I care." She shrugged.

Steve chuckled. "My platonic person?" Platonic. That's it, the type of love I couldn't name.

She snorted. "Obviously. You forget?" She shoved his shoulder without any real force. "Not into dudes like that."

Steve took off the bloodied Scoops uniform, toed into the sweatpants, and then turned around so Robin could see.

"Wow," she gasped. She reached out but stopped halfway as though mentally schooling herself. "Can I um…"

"Yeah. Sure." He thought he might flinch or suddenly feel dysphoric with her hand on the left scar, but instead he was simply reminded his body was littered with other scars. His new bruises and cuts were sensitive, but they would heal like the others. Like the one Robin curiously starred at now.

Robin was mindful of the fresh damage, lightly tracing over his skin. "Steve… Did the first top surgery, uh, not take?"

He laughed and finished dressing.

They lay in Robin's bed that night. Steve started talking about his top surgery and, before he knew it, spilled his whole life story to her. Robin took it all in stride. It was difficult but liberating. She shared too, thoughts, feelings, reactions. It felt inaugural, like the first sleepover of many with his best friend. His person.