#and I have yet to see one for Steddie

[grandwretch]

only i must wander, pt 2

[on ao3][pt 1]

content warnings: non-graphic discussions of racism, bigotry, murder, and child abuse. i go into more detail on ao3.

Before Steve even had a chance to breathe, Robin was human again. A furrow in her brow creased her smooth skin, frustration at the forced woge evident. Her eyes– blue, Steve noted, unlike the gold they had been a moment before –held Steve's gaze for a moment before sliding away. 

Her quick return to humanity did not negate the familiar rush of adrenaline. Steve's body had locked up the moment her eyes had flashed at him, torn between two instincts. Just as he'd feared, the forefront of his mind was focused on violence. The enemy wasn't moving, unarmed and currently disguised as a human, but that only meant that Steve had the advantage; There was a blade on the far counter, dull but usable, and if he needed to run, there was a window over her shoulder. 

He'd probably survive the fall. 

But as much as his body wanted to shove his new manager– Seriously, what was that guy's name, again? –to the side and lunge for the knife, Steve refused to give in. Hopper had told him he could power through these instincts, but it didn't feel like fighting. It felt like hiding. Like he if he didn't move, didn't breathe, then the terror of his own brain couldn't find him. 

The manager said something. Steve didn't hear, didn't care, all of his senses attuned to Robin and her every move. 

Robin stood, and Steve felt his entire body shift. It wasn't a flinch, not so much movement that the manager would clock it, but he… His fingers twitched into loose fists, his posturing changing as his hips and feet moved to a more dynamic stance. It didn't look like much, just a nervous guy fidgeting on his first day at work, but Steve could feel his body revving up for a fight. 

And judging by the look in Robin's eyes, she might actually give it to him. 

"I can show him around the back," Robin said, smiling at the manager. "We used to go to school together. It'll give us time to catch up." The friendliness on her face was obviously fake, plastic-y and barely an effort. But if the manager noticed, he didn't care. 

"Good looking out, Rob. I needed to give Patrick his break, anyway," he said. "Steve, I'll see you in about thirty minutes to finish up your paperwork?" 

It hurt to make himself nod, his body unwilling to give in to the extraneous movement. Stilted though it was, the manager was happy enough to accept it. He smiled, nodded, and left them alone in the room. 

The woge had rippled back across Robin's face before the door even shut behind him. Now that he was expecting it, Steve could see more of the details of her second face. Unlike Dustin, the fur sprouting on her face was mostly white, and it faded into the same reddish-brown as her hair. Her teeth and nose lengthened, a subtle snout protruding from her face. The biggest change, however, was her eyes: They glittered gold, larger and more fierce than her human gaze. 

Steve wasn't great at this Wesen thing yet, but Dustin had told him that tons of Wesen had attributes of animals, and Robin was obviously one of them. Would knowing which one help him in a fight? She was obviously something furry and mean, like some kind of cat… Or maybe a fox? 

Robin met his curious gaze, and Steve watched her face grow even angrier at what she saw there. 

Before Steve could even wonder which sins she saw reflected back in his eyes, Robin was taking large, furious steps towards him. 

Not even Steve's dedication to not hurting anyone could power through his need to not be murdered in an ice cream shop by an angry Wesen. He gave up on the idea of the blade– It was too far, on the other side of teeth and claws, and he wasn't willing to risk it for a sub-par weapon. Instead, he reached out for the first thing he could get his hands on. 

It turned out to be an ice cream scoop. 

Steve had half a mind to be embarrassed of his own instincts, but in the next breath a hundred scenarios flooded through his mind. He could use the handle as brass knuckles, use the added force to break her nose, pushing the cartilage into her brain. But would the Wesen bone structure allow for it? He couldn't be sure. That was why he obviously had to go for the eyes, using the slight point of the scoop to remove an eye from the socket. But– 

Bile rose in his throat, and Steve forced himself to swallow even as plan after plan sprouted fully-formed in his mind. 

"Please don't make me hurt you," he said, his voice shaking in his throat. "I really don't want to hurt you." 

The plea only deepened the disgust on Robin's face, and she took one more step towards him. Steve planted his feet, twirling the scoop to reverse his grip when she bared her teeth at him. He would definitely have to take a few teeth out first. 

"Why am I not surprised that King Steve is a fucking Grimm?" Robin growled, the unfamiliar word like a curse in her mouth. It was obviously supposed to mean something to him, supposed to hurt, but the best Steve could do was confusion. 

Confusion so deep, in fact, that it helped dull the rage and terror that Steve couldn't tame. He felt his muscles relax by centimeters, the energy going instead towards trying to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. 

"What the fuck is a Grimm?" 

He would have thought it was his Wesen name, although it didn't exactly sound like Hexenbiest or Eisbiber. It sounded English, in fact, and although Dustin had lectured him a thousand times about why German and English sounded so similar, the familiarity unsettled Steve a bit. Sure, 'beast' wasn't exactly something you wanted to be called, but Steve was willing to say that 'grim' was a fair bit closer. 

"Please," Robin scoffed. When Steve could only blink at her, shrugging, her face changed to something that almost resembled pity. "You're kidding." 

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Steve said. "What is that? A Grimm, I mean. Is that– Is that what I am?" 

Without another word, Robin dropped the woge and turned away from him, picking up the book she had abandoned on the table. 

"Look, I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I'm new at this Wesen thing, so I don't really know how to stop the eyes from giving people the wrong idea, but if you– If you know what I am, then maybe you could–" 

Laughter cut him off, and Robin shook her head, turning back around. "I'm not really interested in teaching a future serial killer how to do his job, thanks." 

Steve faltered. "I… what?" 

"Look, I don't care what you do outside of work. Do what you need to. But stay the fuck away from me, okay?" 

She wasn't meeting his eyes, Steve noticed. Not even really looking at him at all, even though it meant she was at a disadvantage if he attacked. It was just the tiniest gesture, submissive where everything else had been primed to offend, and Steve realized with a sinking stomach that she was scared. Robin was terrified of him, not in the way that El had been, but as a person. 

The adrenaline had long since faded, and Robin was still afraid that he would kill her. 

"I'm not…" Steve panted. "I wouldn't…." 

Robin didn't wait for him to find his words. She was out the door before he had even caught his breath, leaving the door banging behind her. 

It had been hell getting through the rest of the shift. It was, blessedly, a short one, more of an orientation than anything, but Steve still couldn't focus for more than five minutes. His brain kept repeating the words Robin had thrown in his face.

A future serial killer. What the fuck had that meant?

Steve didn't go home after his first shift. He had planned to, planned to celebrate with a long, hot shower and some take out. The anxiety that crept up when he was finally alone in his car didn't care what Steve had planned, however. Normally, he would have just called Dustin to puzzle it over, like he usually did with every other perplexing social interaction, but Dustin was only allowed one phone call a day, which meant Steve got to talk to him once a week. It was a blessing that Claudia had afforded him Sundays, honestly. So Steve turned to the only other person in this town who could put up with him for more than five minutes. 

Hopper didn't even bother to act surprised when Steve knocked on his door. "Rough day at work?" he said, a grin curled around the cigarette he had tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

"Wesen coworker," Steve said. 

That was enough explanation, apparently. "Fuck, kid," Hopper said, stepping back so Steve could slip past him into the living room. "You can't catch a break, huh?" 

"I… handled it better than I thought I would," Steve admitted as he crossed the room to throw himself onto the couch. "I almost threw up afterwards, but I didn't let it control me again." 

He heard the door close, and Hopper's heavy footsteps on the floor behind him. Steve couldn't see him from where his head lolled on the couch cushion, but he could see Hopper's shadow reaching across the floor. That was enough. 

"See, I knew you could do it," Hopper said, over the distinct sound of a fridge door opening. 

Steve huffed, thinking about the things Robin had said to him. Had called him. "She knew what I was," he said, because it felt wrong to acknowledge the praise when he was pretty sure he didn't deserve it. "Called me a Grimm." 

"That…" Hopper sounded as confused as Steve felt. "Now, I don't speak German, but I'm pretty sure that's just English." 

"I don't fucking know anymore, man. From what Dustin's been telling me, I think they might be the same thing." 

"Wouldn't that be useful?" Hopper scoffed. The fridge closed. "Did she bother to explain what it meant?" 

"N… no?" Steve swallowed. "I asked, but she wouldn't really…" 

Hopper rounded the couch and held an already sweating can of beer out. Steve accepted it with shaking hands. 

"She didn't say it like it was a nice thing," Steve said, finally. "Honestly, I think she assumed I was there to kill her." 

That certainly made Hopper pause. Steve watched him pause, halfway into his recliner, before finally forcing himself to complete the motion. They didn't speak for a moment, but Steve couldn't bring himself to drink. The idea of anything on his churning stomach made him sick. 

"Does it… matter?" Hopper said, eventually. 

Steve laughed, a strained, choking thing. "Does it matter?" he repeated, "Does it matter that apparently my entire– my entire species is supposed to kill people? Yeah, Hop, I would say it does." 

"That's not how–" Hopper shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, don't go talking to Dustin about what I'm about to say, but from what I've heard from Claudia Henderson, I sometimes get the feeling that these Wesen folk are racist as hell." 

Steve blinked. "I don't think it's really the same thing." 

"Yeah?" Hopper's mouth twisted, a smile that made Steve shiver. "You weren't here when she was trying to explain to me what El was. Some of the stuff she said… She's not human, either, but she talked about El like she was worse than a monster. Like she would kill all of us in our sleep if we gave her the chance." 

Steve thought about it. It felt wrong, like a pebble in his shoe, to think about himself that way. He'd been very lucky growing up, he knew that. He had the money, the right looks, the right family. He couldn't imagine himself dealing with the same things that Lucas had gone through, for instance. But… Steve also thought about the things Dustin said, sometimes, about his mom not letting him be alone with El, how Steve himself probably wouldn't be allowed within five feet of him anymore when she discovered that Steve wasn't human. 

It wasn't the same thing, not at all, but it still didn't feel good.

"I'm not saying that she was right," Steve said, slowly, "but my instincts…" 

"You're not a fucking animal, kid," Hopper grunted. "Don't let them treat you like one." 

He raised the legs of his recliner, settling into the cushion with a pointed silence. The conversation was over, as far as Hop was concerned. 

Steve tried to be okay with that. Tried to be okay with the idea that they were wrong, not him. Every day, he woke up and tried again. It never really stuck. Some days were better than others. Some days, Steve could almost brush off Robin's glare without a single pang of guilt. Some days, Steve felt human. Most days he didn't. There was a voice in his head that said they were right, that it might be for the wrong reasons, but there was something wrong with him.

Robin only made it worse. Steve had tried to keep out of her way, but there were only so many excuses that could keep them off the same shifts. When they did work together, Robin never let up– He tried to keep quiet, keep his head down, but she would always find something to say. 

It was never nice. Of course. After a while, she didn't even seem fearful, just disgusted at his existence. Everything Steve did was under scrutiny, with Robin insulting everything from his hair to his customer service. Once, during a particularly intense rush, she hissed at him for breathing 'like a beast'. 

That's what she said. Like a beast. 

El was the only thing that helped. Hopper didn't understand, and Dustin was away at camp, but El was always happy to see him. Steve didn't talk about it much, not wanting to unload the mess in his head on a little girl, but Steve was sure El got it, anyway. 

Steve didn't know what Mrs. Henderson told her about being a Hexenbiest. He didn't want to know. Avoiding her was awkward enough without actively wanting to rip her apart for making El feel bad for something she couldn't control. 

And, yeah, he got the irony– It was different for El, okay? 

Hanging out with El was different than hanging with Dustin and the others. While the boys left Steve with the same happy, tired feeling as a good swim meet, El made him feel… grounded. Restored. He didn't know if that was personality or power, but he was sure that was the only thing keeping him sane. 

After bad days, Steve would drive straight to the cabin. Hopper would always roll his eyes and grouse about Steve keeping his daughter up all hours, but he never actually turned Steve away. (Besides he loved it when El would kick Mike out for Steve. He never laughed harder.) They would commandeer the couch, chasing Hopper off to the kitchen nook, and watch movies or music videos Steve had taped. Sometimes, El read out loud to Steve, instead; Her vocabulary was improving in leaps and bounds. Once night settled fully, they would go out onto the porch and talk until El couldn't form words around her yawns. 

They never talked about the Wesen thing. Everything else was fair game, though. Sometimes it was simple things, like what it was like to love a Wheeler, or if Lucas and Will would like the book they just finished. Sometimes El talked about the lab, about the siblings she'd lost. Sometimes Steve admitted, nervous every time, that when his parents were home he felt like a cornered animal. Max joined them from time to time, the conversations becoming all the more bittersweet. 

Sure, making yet another thirteen year old best friend probably wasn't the healthiest thing Steve had ever done, but it got him out of bed and into work every morning. That was more than enough, for now. 

El must have said something to the other kids, because they started showing up at work more often. Every day, in fact, even when they'd long since run out of allowance to spend on ice cream. They weren't obvious about it, only popping by to tell him about their day or beg for free samples, except for Max. 

Max, ever the protector, loved to come by on days Robin worked. Her new favorite hobby was sitting at a table for hours and yelling over Robin whenever she spoke. Max always got Steve's employee discount. 

"You do not look happy," El said one night. Max had still been in the lobby when Steve clocked out, so they'd driven to the cabin together instead of going home. 

"I'm fine," Steve said, automatically, straightening himself from his slump. 

"He has to work with Robin all next week," Max said, ignoring Steve's noise of protest. "She was complaining about it loud enough for half the mall to hear." 

"Hm." El's eyes narrowed. Then, as if the moment had never happened, she turned towards Steve's stack of tapes. "I want to watch the Muppets." 

Steve really shouldn't have been surprised when El showed up with Max the next day.

The moment he registered her bright, familiar grin, Steve felt his veins go cold. It was a strange, almost alien feeling now to be afraid without the all-consuming adrenaline and rage of his woge. Instead of forcing himself to stay still, he was stuck , unable to do anything but watch Max and El approach the counter. 

"Hi, Steve!" El said, smiling. She looked so happy, all dolled up in new clothes and light makeup, and Steve wanted to be happy for her. He really did. Hopper's voice in his head simply wouldn't let him. 

"You are not supposed to be here," Steve said, voice dropping into a whisper. Max rolled her eyes and Steve felt the anger break through the icy grip of fear, finally letting him round the counter to herd them into the corner. "Did you sneak her out, Mayfield?" 

"It's the mall, Harrington," she sniped, crossing her arms. "No one's looking for her here. She'll be fine." 

"Government agents and mad scientists have to shop, too," Steve said. "... Probably."

El leaned into Steve's side, pouting up at him. Which, honestly, was cheating, because El knew that Steve had never been able to say no to puppy dog eyes. When she finally let Dustin in on that trick, his life was officially over. He could already feel himself starting to waver. 

"We came to help," El said, wrapping her arms around Steve's waist. "Don't be mad." 

"I'm not…" Steve took a deep breath. "I'm not mad. I'm worried. There's a difference." 

Max was no longer paying attention. Instead, she was staring at the front counter, face drawn into a tight scowl. "El. That's her." 

Robin stood at the counter, obviously staring. Not at the girl who was glaring daggers into her, but El and Steve. It almost didn't register at first; Steve had gotten pretty used to constantly having Robin's attention on him when they worked together. As El calmly returned Robin's stare, however, Steve noticed that the usual anger on Robin's face wasn't present. She looked almost surprised, instead, with a heavy dose of confusion. 

Which made sense, he guessed, if she could tell El was a Wesen. 

He put his hand on El's back, a protective gesture that he hoped Robin would understand as a line in the sand. Her gaze didn't waver. 

"I want to talk to her," El said, voice strangely flat. 

"Absolutely not," Steve said. "She's almost an adult, and you can't fight back without… getting yourself in trouble." 

"Then can I…" 

"No," Steve sighed. "Is this really what you snuck out for? To bother my coworker with your magic powers?" 

"And shopping," Max said brightly. 

El didn't answer. When Steve looked down at her, her cheek still pressed into his uniform shirt, he watched the woge settle across her face. 

" Jane Hopper, " Steve hissed. Over the past weeks, he had gotten more than used to El's Wesen face, and had become as fond of it as he was her cherub-cheeked human form. That didn't mean he was an idiot, though; He knew an intimidation tactic when he saw one. 

He also saw Robin's face go absolutely white as the blood drained from her face. There was a moment where the girls' gazes held, Robin's hypnotized by the black pits of El's, and then Robin squeaked and scuttled into the back room. 

"Guys, you can't…" Steve began, but when Max and El both looked up at him with matching mischievous grins, he couldn't hold back his chuckles. "Thank you, but seriously. Never do this again."

El tilted her head up, chin digging into Steve's stomach, to meet his gaze. "No one is allowed to bully you." 

"That so?" Steve said, a fond smile stealing across his face.

Solemn, El responded, "Will says big brothers need to be protected sometimes, too." 

"Oh." Steve turned the loose embrace into a proper hug, suddenly overcome with affection. His whole life he'd been alone, and now he had two little siblings. How cool was that? He hummed, a hand smoothing down El's curls as she squeezed him tight. 

Max watched them with a look Steve couldn't decipher, the beginnings of a frown on her face. Maybe three little siblings, he corrected himself, and reached one hand out to her. 

"Ew," Max complained, but let herself be pulled into his side anyway. 

"I care about you both so much ," Steve said, voice low. "Which is why you're going home right now, before Hopper finds out you left and you get so grounded I can't see you again until I'm 40." 

"Dad is in Layton," El said, eyes twinkling. "We have hours ." 

"And tickets to Back to the Future," Max said, smug as anything. 

Steve sighed and pushed flyaway hairs back from Max's forehead. "Fine, but be careful. I saw the  boys here earlier. Try to get a ride home with Jonathan or Nance. And stick together ." 

"Okay, mom, " Max said, rolling her eyes as she pulled away. 

El giggled like it was the funniest joke she's ever heard. "Yeah, mom ." 

Steve shook his head and shooed them out, mumbling meaningless threats of narcking to Hopper. Once they were out of his sight, swallowed by the churn of the crowd, Steve felt himself deflate. The performance of big brother kept him afloat, chest filling with warmth, but when he was supposed to be just Steve…

He bit his lip and returned to the service counter, ignoring the unmistakable feeling of a gaze glued to his back. 

The next month flew by much the same as the first had, though if Max and El snuck out again, they knew better than to come to Scoops. Robin's ire, now two months deep, now inspired more melancholy in Steve than frustration. 

It was astonishingly easy to descend into self-pity, lately, and with every insult or smart remark Steve couldn't help but feel he'd lost something. Not just for himself, but for El and Dustin, too. Nothing concrete, but rather a bond, the chance of a connection to the greater Wesen community. A connection that should have already belonged to El and Dustin, denied to them by deception and fear. 

And now by the virtue of loving Steve. 

Steve tried not to dwell on it too much. He kept himself busy, between work and helping Hop at the cabin, and counted down the days until Dustin would be home. Until their tiny pack of three would be complete again. 

The day Steve woke up to a tiny beaver sticker on his calendar, not even Robin could knock the smile off his face. He could tell it bothered her, too, and for once the mumbling under breath only made him smile harder. 

His brother was coming home. 

Steve was on his break when he heard Dustin's voice, clear as a bell, for the first time in months. "Is he here?" 

Robin answered, clearly bored, but Steve paid no mind to what she had to say. He was already out of his seat by Dustin's final syllable. Steve sprinted out of the break room, skidding out of the door as his own speed overwhelmed him. And there he was, Dustin Henderson, a whole two inches taller than Steve had last seen him. 

His smile was blinding. 

"I can't believe you actually wear that," Dustin said, his smile only growing wider. 

"You little shit," Steve said, then leapt over the counter. He didn't put much thought into it, hadn't considered that he might not be able to clear it. He'd only thought– Oh, it would be so much faster to go over than around. And then he'd done it, shoes squeaking on the linoleum as he landed on the other side. 

"Wow, you must have really missed me," Dustin said, and then he said nothing at all, because Steve was scooping him into a hug. 

"I regret it immediately," Steve said, but he didn't let go. If anything, his own gentle teasing just made him squeeze harder, as if Dustin would take his teasing as truth and leave again. "When can I send you back?" 

Dustin slapped him on the back, his usual sign he wanted to be let down, now, please. "If you suffocate me I'm not going to make it until next time." 

"Sorry, man," Steve said. He lowered Dustin to the floor and then stepped back. Through all his sheepishness, he still didn't stop smiling; Not even the embarrassment could dim the sheer relief Steve felt having everyone he loved back in the same city limits. "How was camp?" 

"Who gives a shit? I can't believe they actually hired you!" 

"Fuck off, Henderson, seriously." 

And then, naturally, they fell into their handshake. It was a stupid, geeky tradition that Steve had been pulled into unwillingly, but he had to admit that half the moves were his idea. Even the lightsaber fight, which they had choreographed on Mrs. Henderson's couch after a hearty meal of Christmas leftovers. Steve thought the spilling of his guts was particularly inspired, even if Dustin often complained that disembowelment was both non-canon and unscientific. 

As if the little shit didn't giggle every time. 

"No, but seriously," Steve said as he recovered from his dramatic demise, "how was camp, man? Let me go on my break, you can tell me everything–" 

"Absolutely not," Robin said from the counter. Dustin turned to her, eyebrows raised, and Steve internally sighed. He was not looking forward to explaining all this to Dustin, who was protective on the best days and mocking on the worst. Whatever the kid's opinion would be, Steve was sure it would just make him feel worse. 

Before could even protest the double standard of Robin having already taken two breaks to his zero, Robin did the unthinkable– She woged at Dustin, human teeth already bared before they shifted into fangs. Steve was proud of how Dustin reacted, though, meeting Robin's gaze head-on even though Steve could see his black little nose quiver in terror. The instinctual response woge had settled over Dustin, his fear plain as day, but he didn't give a centimeter. 

Good, Steve thought, as he whirled on Robin. 

Robin's anger matched his own before Steve could even open his mouth, as if he were the one who had been unspeakably rude. As if he was the one making thinly veiled threats of violence in public. As if he were the one who kept woging in public, every time risking more and more exposure. It only made the rage burn brighter. 

"What the fuck is your problem, Buckley?" Steve could tell from the flicker of Robin's golden eyes that he was woged now, too, and he knew he was supposed to fight it. Part of him wanted to try. But for once, the human and Wesen instincts were in complete accordance. No version of Steve Harrington was going to let anything happen to Dustin. 

"I can't believe you," Robin said. There was an animalistic rumble underneath her voice, a vocalization that Steve's ears could only just make out. "The audacity of a Grimm knows no bounds, apparently." 

That word again. Whatever the fuck it meant. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve ignored the confused glances Dustin kept throwing his way, the hand clenched in the hem of his shirt. There was no way he was taking his eyes off an angry predator. 

"I thought it was really weird when that little 'biest was here, hanging off of you," Robin continued, "but everyone knows that they're all buddy-buddy with the Royals, so I figured it was business. But this? Preying on a little prey kid? That's low, Harrington, even for you." 

It was a stupid, cruel assumption to make. The kind of thing Tommy would have said in high school. The kind of thing Steve would have laughed at, a few years ago. Now, though, Steve's stomach dropped somewhere he couldn't feel it, leaving only a hollow pit behind. Was it by simple virtue of that word– Grimm, Steve thought with a daze –that made Robin so sure he was capable of something so foul? Or was it something he had done, once, when he had been so desperate for approval? He didn't think that even King Steve at his worst had been so horrible to earn him this. 

Steve stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Dustin had no such trouble. 

"Hey!" Dustin said, his voice going squeaky with anger. "That's my best friend you're talking to." 

Robin looked at him with as much condescension as Carol Perkins had ever managed, her nose twitching with disgust. "You don't know what he's like, kid." 

Unfortunately for her, Dustin Henderson was the one child on planet earth who didn't deign to even acknowledge being treated like one. "I'm pretty sure I know him better than you . I don't know where you got your information, but Steve has saved my life multiple times, and–" 

"I really don't think she needs to know about all that," Steve said quickly. His heart was rabbiting in his chest just thinking about trying to explain away stories about demodogs and lab experiments to a girl who already hated his guts. 

"Do your parents know that you've been hanging out with a Grimm?" Robin asked, apparently ignoring the saving-Dustin's-life thing. Thank god. 

Dustin stiffened, probably because Mrs. Henderson absolutely would freak if she knew Steve was any kind of Wesen, much less one bad enough for all the shit Robin had been talking. "I don't know what a Grimm is," Dustin said, eventually, his voice oddly stilted. "But it doesn't matter. He's Steve ." 

For once, Robin looked as confused as Steve felt, like, 75% of the time. "You honestly don't know– Hold on." She snapped and turned to Steve. "You. When you said you didn't know what a Grimm was, you just weren't playing dumb?" 

"No," Steve said, and it came out a plea. "My parents never told me any of this shit, if they're even my parents–" And that felt wrong to say, bad to say, because Steve didn't know who he was without being Bradley Harrington's son first. "--and you're only, like, the third Wesen I've ever met." 

"You couldn't ask ?" 

Steve swallowed back the snarky answer, knowing what Robin was really asking. "What was I supposed to do, call my parents up like, 'Hi Mom and Dad, sorry to interrupt your very important meeting, I was wondering if you knew anything about us being monsters'? Does that sound like a conversation I should have on the phone?" It didn't help that Steve was pretty sure the government had been tracking his phone calls since 1983. 

"But…" Robin's eyes narrowed, shifting back to their human shape and color. "You started working here two months ago." 

Steve nodded, stomach churning. "Yeah." 

"So are you going to tell us what a Grimm is or not?" Dustin said. When Steve finally looked over at him, he still looked pissed, arms crossed and glaring, but Steve recognized that sparkle in his eyes. Little shit was ecstatic to be learning the lore behind Steve's whole deal, that was more than apparent. 

That made one of them. 

"I only know what my parents have told me," Robin said, slowly. She wouldn't look Steve in the eyes anymore, which wasn't exactly a great sign. Steve's throat contracted, forcing bile back down. "I've never met one in real life, before Harrington. I honestly wasn't sure they were still real. I thought they were… I don't know, stupid stories that parents tell to make their kids behave, you know? Like the boogie man." 

"But you knew Steve was one," Dustin said. Less of a question, more of an interrogation. Point out their own contradictions, wait for more information. Steve was pretty sure he'd picked that one up from watching Hopper grill Mike. 

"His eyes," Robin said. Her eyes darted up to meet Steve's gaze for only a moment before they fell back to the floor. "The stories all have them. Black mirrors that show you all the worst parts of yourself, every sin you've ever committed. It's supposed to be, like… Making you repent before, you know. They kill you." 

"So I'm a killer?" Steve said, his tongue numb in his mouth. 

Robin grimaced. "Kinda? They used to be… like knights, I think. In service to the Royals– Wait, do you know about the Seven Houses?" 

"The Royals," Steve muttered to himself, in a daze. 

"We'll go back to that," Dustin said, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye. "What were you saying about knights?" 

"Right, so the Grimms worked as knights while the Seven Houses were establishing their claims in the Wesen world. It was basically a way for them to keep their Wesen subjects in line so that the royals could focus on human affairs. But then… Well, I don't really know what happened, but they stopped being knights and became…" Robin sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "Vigilantes?" 

"Like Batman?" Dustin asked, disbelieving. 

"More like the Punisher." 

"Can we please talk in a language the person whose existence hinges on this conversation can understand?" Steve asked, his voice rising in volume with every word. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harrington," Robin said, her voice coming quicker than he had ever heard her speak before. "They kill people, okay? Sure, it's usually, like, Wesen who have killed humans before or whatever but there are stories of them just going to town on entire packs of predator species before. My dad's even told me of some groups of Grimm who kill Wesen on sight so they don't have the opportunity to commit crimes later. And it's like, do I really think the high school bully is a serial killer? No, not really, but it's really hard to externalize that when I have vivid memories of my mom telling me about how her great-great-great-great-grandmother's head got put on a spike outside the city walls for selling love potion to some stupid humans."

"Oh, that's– Sorry for your loss," Dustin said, automatically. 

Robin raised an eyebrow. "You know I didn't know her, right?" 

Steve heard neither of them through the rushing in his ears. Was it just him, or were the walls closer together than they had been five minutes ago? The floor felt malleable beneath his feet, like he was standing on top of water. Steve stumbled over to a table and sat gingerly, his hands shaking. 

He wasn't exactly sure how long had passed when Dustin came to him, a hand on his shoulder. 

"Steve?" he said, tentatively. "You okay?" Robin stood behind him, concern breaking through her careful nonchalance. 

"Hopper was wrong," he said, thickly. "I am a monster." 

"No–" Dustin began, but Robin cut him off with a scoff. 

"We're all kind of monsters, Harrington, it comes with the territory," she said with a sneer. "At least you still look human." 

"Yeah?" Steve said, his voice cracking. "How many people do you think Dustin's ancestors killed? Matter of fact, have you ever heard of a single Grimm that wasn't a killer?" Even though the question was mostly sarcastic, some part of him still hoped she would defy him, give him some proof that he wasn't meant to be a terrible person. His eyes watched her face twist in embarrassment. 

"Well… no, I haven't," Robin said, eyes darting towards Dustin. 

"Exactly," Steve said, nodding even as his shoulders deflated. "Exactly, exactly. I'm meant to… I'm meant to be a terrible person, and nothing I do– Nothing I've ever done–" Steve took a deep breath, felt it rattle in his chest, heard it wheeze through the throat that was quickly closing around his rising panic. 

"Oh, you're–" Dustin shook his head, turning to Robin. "He's– Do you have a back room?" 

"Uh, yeah, behind the counter," Robin said, blinking. 

"Alright, help me get him back there." 

Things got a little hazy after that. Steve wasn't sure how they got him to the back room, although he had the vague impression of his arms looped over both their shoulders, off jerking away from Robin's touch with a pained noise. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a chair in the back, Robin perched on the far counter, Dustin's hands on his shoulders. 

"Steve, can you hear me?" Dustin said, and from the lack of inflection in his voice, Steve had the inclination that it wasn't the first time he'd been asked. 

"Yeah," he croaked. 

"Good," Dustin said, relief flooding his face. "I think you're having another panic attack." 

Steve flushed with shame. He hadn't one of those in months, since the chill had finally faded from the air and every night stopped reminding him of junkyards and tunnels and blue Camaros. In comparison, this seemed a little pathetic, but even that small amount of logic couldn't shake the fact that his brain was still sending him signals of flee danger predator run . 

When Steve didn't answer, Dustin squeezed his shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it, or do you want us to leave?" 

"We are not leaving a Grimm whose brain is god knows where alone in the back room where there are weapons– " Robin began. 

"You are not helping," Dustin interrupted through gritted teeth.

"She's right," Steve rasped. "We have no idea what I might do. You've seen what I try to do when my instincts go haywire." 

"You haven't actually done anything!" Dustin said, a none too gentle reminder. His anger was palpable, and Steve thought distantly of Hopper, of how disappointed he would be. Steve was going to be sick. "Remember your theory? You said that you thought the mirrored eyes were more like an evolutionary protection, maybe–" 

"Maybe I was literally born a murderer to protect myself?" Steve asked, laughing as the first tear slipped down his cheek. "I was wrong, Dustin. It happens. All the fucking time, apparently, because I've spent the last two years wondering how to be a good person, when it's impossible." 

"That's not how it–" 

"I'm supposed to kill you, Dustin," Steve said, harshly. "You heard her. You and El should both be dead, and maybe one day you will be." 

Steve watched the stubbornness set into Dustin's face and felt his heart break. He's never really wanted to hurt someone. Not really. That was why he kept losing all those stupid fucking fights, why he let Tommy push him around. Steve wanted to survive, and he wanted to protect, but he's never looked someone in the eyes and wanted to hurt them. But he could feel it in his chest, all the fucking time– that same rage he'd first felt when Dustin woged in front of him. And no matter how much Steve didn't want it, he was sure that one day it would swallow him whole.

"I don't believe that," Dustin said, "not for a fucking second." 

"What about my parents, Dustin?" Steve asked, meeting Dustin's eyes. For the first time, he wished that people didn't see the worst of themselves in his eyes, but the worst of Steve. That would keep them safe, wouldn't it? If they could see into his chest, at the sharp and jagged things there? "They're gone for months at a time–" 

"They're doing business!" 

"And they're all over the country, sometimes in Europe or Asia, and what the fuck do you think they're doing, Dustin? Like actually. Because I haven't bought the business excuse in years, and I know you're smarter than me, so what else could it be? I thought they were partying, or cheating on each other, or even just doing some regular fucking crime, but no–" Steve sobbed, the noise being pulled out of his chest. "Apparently, they might be killing people. What does that make me ?" 

"It doesn't make you anything," Dustin said, jaw set. "Even if you're right, which you're not ." 

"So you're not afraid of what might happen if you're staying the night the next time they come home?" 

Dustin hesitated, and Steve knew he had him. It fucking hurt, every second of it. Felt like removing his own skin with a scalpel, slow and methodical and never-ending, but it had to be done. He had to get Dustin away from danger, and right now the most dangerous thing in Hawkins was him.

"Kid, can you give us a second?" Robin's voice cut through the air and Steve flinched, his entire body twitching as his gaze was ripped away from Dustin. 

Stepping away, Dustin rubbed at his nose in a move that Steve knew had been picked up from him. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He couldn't get out of the break room fast enough, the door swinging behind him. 

"That was fucked up," Robin said as she hopped down from the counter. 

"Wasn't this exactly what you wanted?" Steve said, frustration and resentment built up from the past two months bubbling in his chest. "Him away from the monster?" 

Robin hesitated for a moment, then continued her short walk to the chair across from Steve. As she sat, she said, "I never called you a monster." 

"No, just a serial killer and a beast and a thousand other things around 'monster'," Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

He had honestly expected her to rise to the bait. She was the exact kind that was the easiest to torment, emotions too big for her body and never afraid to speak her mind until it was already out of her mouth. Robin didn't speak this time, though, just looked at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. 

Eventually, she sighed, and turned away from him. "I'm sorry." 

Steve scoffed, disbelieving. "Okay." 

"No, I am. I… didn't really think about what it might mean if you actually didn't know, and I had no idea that I was putting people in danger by not explaining," she said, her hands in fists on her legs. She still wouldn't look at him, and Steve felt his stomach twist further. He had to get out of here before he vomited on the linoleum. 

"Well, you figured it out, and now they're safe, so if you'll please excuse me–" 

"No," Robin said, stilling him with a glare. "I meant you, dingus." 

"... Dingus?" Steve repeated. It was… oddly juvenile, after all the things she'd called him. 

Robin flushed. "I don't actually think you're, like, a killer or anything. Especially since you obviously haven't killed anyone. I just thought…" Her eyes slid away from him again. "You know, with Barb last year…" 

Nausea hit Steve in the stomach and he had to bend over, pressing his face to the cool surface of the table, to keep himself from gagging. "You thought I killed Barb?" He hated how small his voice sounded, suddenly, nothing like the rage-fueled creature he felt like he was becoming. 

"Obviously I was being an idiot because killers don't fucking have panic attacks in the dark about being a killer," Robin said. Steve wasn't sure that was entirely true, but he got her point. "I mean, like I said before, I stopped believing that shit like two weeks in. If you were actually a serial killer, I would be, like, so dead right now." 

"I never wanted to hurt you," Steve said, tired. 

"I know," Robin said, frowning. "And that's why I'm saying, I was an asshole, and I'm sorry." 

Steve swallowed. "It's fine." 

"It's really not," Robin said. "I could tell it made you upset, and it gave me this sick little thrill to finally know what got to King Steve, you know? Like I finally had something over you. And it made me feel…" 

"Powerful?" Steve suggested when her words trailed off. 

"Yeah," Robin said, her face pale. 

"I get it," Steve said, shrugging. "Why do you think I was such an asshole in high school?" 

Robin gave him a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, I never wanted to be that kind of person. So… You know, just because you were born a Grimm doesn't mean you have to be like them." 

Looking away, Steve said nothing. He'd already had the suspicion there was something wrong with him, Robin had just confirmed it. Her taking it back hadn't really changed his mind. Robin seemed to get that, and she squirmed in her seat for a moment. 

"I never told you what I am, did I?" she said, softly.

"... No," Steve said, frowning. "I thought maybe some kind of weasel?" 

That made her laugh, shaking her head as she smiled down at her hands. "Yeah, I guess maybe I deserve that. No, I'm a– I'm a Fuchsbau. A fox." The smile began to slip from her face, fists unclenching and curling back into claws again and again as she spoke. "That's part of why I freaked out so hard when I first recognized you as a Grimm. We're a predator species, you know? But not one of the big guys, not scary enough that they leave us alone. We're just mean . And… and sneaky . And cruel." 

Steve watched her, unable to speak. He had seen a little of that from her, over the past few weeks, so he wasn't entirely sure he was justified in defending her own self-worth, but… even as she said it, something didn't feel right to Steve. Sure, she was dick to him, like, specifically, but Steve had never seen her speak a harsh word to anyone else they worked with. Robin was usually pretty bored with customers, yeah, but she was patient, too. 

And whatever harshness did exist in her, it certainly wasn't subtle .

"That's why my parents moved here, you know. Fuchsbau don't usually have packs, and so it's kinda just… you and a bunch of Wesen who expect you to rip them off at the first chance," Robin continued, "so they came here to try and start fresh. And I don't think they ever really fit into what a Fuchsbau is supposed to be, and most times I'm pretty sure I don't, either, but sometimes…." 

Robin shrugged. "Sometimes I'm afraid it's somewhere inside of me, just waiting to get out." 

Oh. 

This was one of those pep talks that made Steve squirm, the kind where teachers and coaches and counselors all promised Steve that they absolutely understood what he was going through. As if they could understand what he was feeling through the little he'd actually admitted, as if the simple act of relation was enough to soothe the ache in his chest. Knowing other people hurt didn't make him bleed any less, but… it didn't chafe to hear it from Robin, like it did with the dozens of adults before him. He wasn't sure she actually understood, but at least she was trying. At least she wasn't just assuming things. Not anymore, anyway. 

"It's not exactly the same thing," Robin said, when Steve didn't speak. "But I–" 

"No, no." Steve's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear that. You're right, it's not exactly the same, but… But I think I might be able to fight this." 

"That's not exactly what I…" Robin said, then shook her head, standing. "Anyway, you should head home for the night." 

Steve blinked up at her. "I'm on schedule until closing." 

Shrugging, Robin said, "We're dead, and, no offense, but you're probably not going to be much help tonight, anyway. I'll cover you. Just… get some sleep, Harrington." 

It was part of an apology Steve still wasn't convinced he completely deserved, but he wasn't in the position to refuse favors. "... Thanks." 

They walked into the lobby together, Steve's skin crawling with the oddity of feeling Robin standing with him and not just by him. He was grateful, but there was a voice in his head whispering that it would all end one day, and he would find her claws in his throat. 

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how Dustin barely spoke as Steve drove him home, only to nearly tackle him in a hug before he got out of the car. Tried not to think about how he couldn't pop in to say hi to Mrs. Henderson because she would think– she would know –that he was a monster. Tried not to think much at all, really. 

Steve found himself driving to the cabin on muscle memory alone, and didn't even notice the direction he was driving until the streetlights gave way to the shadowy cradle of the woods. He parked in the grass, climbed the steps stiffly, paused between every movement as Steve ruminated on the effort it took. 

Hopper didn't look up from the stove as Steve came in. It was chili night, a tradition built around one of the few dishes Hopper had achieved consistency in. Maybe that was why Steve had come here– Something in him knew he was expected here. People were waiting for him. He was wanted. 

Steve felt tears well in his eyes. 

"Steve?" Hopper clicked off the gas on the stove, turning. "Did… did work go okay?" 

The dam broke. Everything came pouring out, the tears, the half-explanations Robin had given him, the terrible truths he now was sure of. Everything poured out of Steve at once, until he was sitting on the couch, gasping for air. Hopper watched him through all of it, never saying a word. His face gave nothing away, and that only made it worse– Steve kept talking and talking, trying to find the words that would make Hopper feel something. Anything. 

Eventually, the terror took over his brain and he fell silent, but his throat still clenched around unformed words. 

"I've told you before, I'm not afraid of you, kid," Hopper said, slowly, but before Steve could protest, he continued, "but you have a right to be concerned about it, you know, in general. It might be you, it might not. But if there's some kind of Wesen vigilante, after everything that's happened in Hawkins in the past two years, one of them's bound to cause trouble sometime." 

"So we just– We gotta figure out how to take one down," Steve said, his hands shaking. 

"I figure shooting 'em will work just as well as it would on anyone else," Hopper said, dryly, "but I don't think you have to worry about that." 

"No, no, you can–" Steve flushed at the sudden sharpness on Hopper's face. "Look, if I'm actively hurting people, I'm too far gone, anyway. Have Nancy do it. She'll get a kick out of it." 

Hopper rolled his eyes, then sighed, rubbing at his face with one large hand. "And what if it's your parents, Steve?" 

That threw him. Because Steve had considered that his parents were the kind of Grimms Steve was terrified to become, yeah. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Steve had always been anxious around them, for no reason he could really put a name to. They weren't bad parents, exactly, just a little absent. They had never denied him anything, never hit him, never even really yelled. But Steve still flinched every time his father raised a hand to clasp him on the shoulder. Steve still shied away from his mother's gaze. 

Steve had always thought it had something to do with all the repression, the constant striving to live up to the Harrington name. That had been enough of an answer for him. Besides, the older he got, the less he had to deal with it, so what did it even matter? 

The idea that it might be something more sinister still hadn't prepared him for the concept of actually doing something about it, though. Sure, he had proposed the idea of them being dangerous to Dustin, but it wasn't like they were killing people and burying them behind the Hawkins Lab. 

"Do you think they already are?" Steve asked, face twisting. "There were genetic experiments on Wesen in the town they lived in. How did they not–" 

Hopper shrugged. "I don't know for sure, kid. Speaking as a cop, if their thought process is anything like mine, they probably don't pursue leads they consider out of their jurisdiction, and it wasn't like the lab was advertising. Will was the first Hawkins kid to go missing, remember?" 

"They were out of town when he disappeared," Steve said, relief evident. "They didn't get home until he was back." 

"I can't promise you anything, Steve, and you're probably gonna want to have it out with them yourself. But your parents have been in and out of Hawkins for two decades now, and it's not exactly like we've got stacks and stacks of cold case murders rotting away at the station. If they're causing problems, it's not here," Hopper said. 

Steve leaned back against the couch cushions, finally letting himself relax. "We just have to make sure they don't find out about El." 

"There you go," Hopper said, reaching out to slap Steve on the knee. It would have felt condescending from anyone else, but it was the most physical affection that Steve had ever seen Hopper give anyone besides Joyce and El. "Feel better with a task, right?" 

"Yeah, actually," Steve admitted. It did feel good, even though it was a small, vague goal that honestly Steve kinda hoped he never had to worry about. Still, having something clear in his head to strive for made him feel solid, grounded, and he felt like an actual person again for the first time all day. 

If Grimms were as bad as Robin made them out to be, then someone needed to protect Hawkins from them. Steve could be that person, if he needed to be, even if the threat was just his own reflection. 

[Next Chapter]

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taglist: @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Steve’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. Eddie wakes up alone in the Upside Down, not knowing how he survived, and unable to reach anyone topside in Hawkins. Wounded and alone, he finds shelter at the Harrington’s house (the place is a damn fortress after all), and while hiding out there discovers that he has gained the ability to walk into other people’s dreams.

((unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 03 that probably has some incorrect information in regards to the Upside Down/history of the show but I haven't gone back to fact check just yet. Also remember Eddie does not have some information that the others do so there are missing pieces there as well: for instance, he is calling the Demogorgon a Nazgûl (because we are doing lots of LotR references, and he never actually saw a Demogorgon in the show). He is currently hiding at the Byer's old house, and ends up falling asleep there while the creatures ourside are hunting. This is the first chapter where Eddie doesn't dreamwalk with Steve -- but with someone else. And therefore learns that he can walk into anyone's dreams. Also sets the tone for the rest of Eddie's story. There's 15 chapters total, if that helps paint the picture of how much more there is untold. Another stupidly long snippet, but it will probably be my last one for Eddie for a while. I'm wishy-washy on when the fic will be posted, and the logistics of formatting dreams vs. reality, but more info will come when the time nears. For the purpose of this snippet, the dream is in italics and reality is in regular))

—

Eddie dreams, and almost immediately he knows it’s not his own.

After finding himself walking through Steve Harrington’s dreams, Eddie discovers they feel very distinctly different from experiencing his own. It’s less confusing, for one thing, and he’s more sure of himself and his body as he moves around within the dreamscape. But he’s only dreamed with Steve twice, both when sleeping in his bed in his home, and there’s something very not Steve about this dream.

For one thing, he’s back in the woods. Not the Upside Down version of the woods, either, because the trees are intact and the air smells less foul, and there’s a different hue to the darkness here. Almost like it’s lighter, more familiar, nostalgic to his rattled senses.

He spins around, hands in his jacket pockets, once again wearing his battle vest (he misses it a lot, maybe Harrington kept it for him) and his Hellfire shirt. His armor. His go-to outfit. If he was to be drawn like a cartoon character in Scooby-Doo or some shit, wearing the same thing every frame, this is what he’d have on. And when he looks out into the darkness, he finds himself alone. Very much alone.

But this isn’t his dream.

How does he know this? Don’t fucking ask him. Eddie can just… feel it. Like when you step outside and can tell it’s about to rain. The atmosphere is just different.

He can also tell this isn’t Steve’s. Steve’s dreams feel like wearing a warm sweatshirt, they are crisp and confined and comforting even when they are facing something scary. But this… this feels more brittle. More watery. Smaller.

Then, Eddie sees him.

A little boy, standing in the woods. The towering trees seem to press in on him from either side, the forest floor is a shag carpet of leaves, roots and dips in the ground that could swallow that kid whole. He looks so small, and lost. Eddie had been lost in the woods before, when he didn’t know that if you just keep walking in one direction you’ll eventually hit a road. So he makes his way towards the boy, and only pauses when his vision fails him.

Well, it must have, anyway. Because Eddie could have sworn it was a little boy, about nine years old, and then like a movie-frame shutter the boy ages a few years. And then the click shutter happens again. It’s very ghost-story-esque and Eddie isn’t sure he wants to get much closer after that. The boy shutters between ages: maybe 10 years old, then 12 years old, 15 years old, and back to 10. If he had to guess.

But his presence doesn’t go unnoticed, the kid turns to him and looks at him with wide eyes. He’s got a rather unfortunate bowl-cut and big watery eyes and is looking at Eddie like he’s one of the Nazgûl come to eat him alive. So Eddie raises his hands in the universal gesture of ‘I come in peace’ and – it takes him a moment to realize he’d done something similar to Chrissy all those months ago. Trying to make himself not look so scary for a moment, when he spends most of his time otherwise doing his very best to have ‘Fuck Off’ stamped on his forehead.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he tells the kid, who about trips over his own feet to back away. “I’m not gonna hurt you. What’s your name?”

The boy licks his lips in nervousness, shutters between 10 and 12 again, a courage in his eyes as he finds his voice. 

“Will Byers.”

…Oh, shit. 

Eddie’s eyes are a little wider, now, and he lets out a deep breath as he tries to gain his bearings. He’d fallen asleep in mini-Byer’s room, and now he was in his dream.

So that’s how it works.

“Will Byers,” he murmurs, still a little shell-shocked. “Your friends with Wheeler and Henderson.”

He blinks and the kid is 15, almost as tall as he is, looking at him with more curiosity now. But then he’s 10 again, fingers clenched at his sides, suspicious and untrusting.

“Who are you?” he asks, his little voice doing its best not to shake.

“My name is Eddie.” He’s usually good with little kids, and he’d get down to the other’s level if he didn’t have a tendency to switch between four feet and six. But the spark of recognition is worth the softer tones, because the kid immediately connects a bunch of information Eddie isn’t privy to. But he gets the same look in his eyes that Henderson does when he figures something out.

“Eddie who died?” Will Byers asks, confused, hopeful.

“Yeah, Eddie who died,” he says back, and wow that feels like a kick to the chest. He puts his hands back in his pockets and leans on one hip heavily. At least they still talk about him, topside.

“Why are you here?” Will asks. Eddie just shrugs in response.

“I don’t know, man. It’s your dream.”

There’s a noise off in the distance, a dark guttural growl and heavy footsteps – both Eddie and Will look to it, snapping to attention and not moving an inch. ((This is a dream.)) Eddie reminds himself, like he has to do every single time. But the Nazgûl and Vecna could probably penetrate dreams as well as minds, so who’s to say that the thing in the distance wouldn’t be able to hurt them, here.

Will’s back to a small child, the same face and wide eyes that had been on missing posters three years ago. And he’s looking up at Eddie, whispering so as not to be overheard by the monster in the forest. “Do you know somewhere safe to hide?”

It takes him a moment to consider it. In fact, Eddie almost retorts with the same line as before. It’s your dream, kid. But then again, Eddie did have more control of himself so maybe… maybe he did know a safe place. Max had hidden from Vecna in happy memories, right? Dreams were just a compilation of memories and imagination. Eddie knows how to weave a tale, so yeah – why not?

He nods, steps closer, and offers his hand to the kid.

“This way.”

The woods are dark and dense and kind of lovely in their own way. The two can hear the Nazgûl in the background, although Eddie really wants to ask what the kids called it instead, and as he walks through the woods he just… focuses on the areas of the forest he knew well. In particular, the place he set up shop almost every day of the week.

And like magic, it appears.

They step into a small clearing in the woods, and there’s the picnic table he had last sat at with Chrissy Cunningham. Making a fool of himself to get her to laugh so she wouldn’t look so scared of him. Now he knows she wasn’t really scared of him at all, but the hallucinations Vecna had plagued her with. He swallows thickly, not wanting to think about Chrissy now – not when his very thoughts are driving where they walk – and then they are rounding the bleachers of the high school football field. Crossing the parking lots, and ducking through the East Entrance doors. Will had changed again, he’s older now, maybe 12 or 13, and looking around in curiosity.

Interesting.

“Have you ever been here before?” Eddie asks, because he needs to know. If Will had never been to Hawkins High, then he wouldn’t be able to dream it at all. That would mean that Eddie could create things out of thin air in a head that wasn’t his own. Both a very cool and very scary thought.

“Only a few times for school stuff. The others knew it better than I did. When I was lost they had El do her mind-walking here, so she could search for me. They made a sensory deprivation tank in the gym.”

Mind-walking. Eddie is even more interested now, and he wants to pry every little bit of information out of mini-Byers head if he can. “That’s the girl with superpowers?”

“Yeah, she’s like my sister.”

“And she can walk through minds?”

“Kind of,” and woah the kid’s voice dropped. He was older now, and taller again – probably the actual age of Henderson and Wheeler and Sinclair. “She walks through dimensions, but she can also walk through memories.”

“What about dreams?”

He almost doesn’t ask, but he also doesn’t get an answer – because then they make it to his hideout.

Eddie opens the door to the Drama room, where (low and behold) the Vecna Lives! Campaign is still set up from the night of the basketball game. The night Chrissy died, and Eddie’s entire life with her. The stage lights are set low, he’d created the perfect ambiance, and the table is still full of the havoc of their campaign. Those little shits won by the skin of their teeth, all thanks to Erika Sinclair. He’d never expected that. But it had been such a wonderful, delightful surprise. It’s a good memory, and Eddie holds onto it, lets it warm his chest and ease a smile onto his face.

“Woah!” Will’s face is pure awe, and there’s a handsome little smile on his face as well as he looks over the entire board. “Is this… you did all this?”

“It’s the night before I became a fugitive. My last and greatest campaign,” Eddie laments, shutting and blocking the door (just in case the Nazgûl decides to take up tracking) and then circles round to his Dungeon Master throne. Flops down in it with his legs hanging over the arm, and relishes in the familiarity of it. It’s the throne the props people built for a few plays over the years, and Eddie had to beg the Drama teacher to let him keep it for Hellfire. It was perfect. Set the tone immediately. All the other players got little folding card chairs, but Eddie was in charge and this was his domain. The throne never let them forget it.

Will looks around the board with skilled eyes, taking in each part of the story, and then his gaze lands on Henderson’s seat, where the character sheets and books are still set up. He must recognize the name, or the handwriting, because suddenly he’s frowning. The seat next to Henderson is Wheeler, and the frown deepens.

“Those shitheads,” he mumbles. “I begged them for months to play D&D with me last year, and as soon as I’m gone they join a club for it with a kick ass DM.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Eddie tells him with a wave of his hand, like the royalty he’s trying to be. “But yes, that was rather shitty of them. They told me all the time about how you’d wreck the campaign. Your presence was missed, Will the Wise.”

And it was true. Henderson had often shouted to the D&D heavens when Eddie’s hidden monsters would destroy half their party and demand to know where ‘Will the Wise’ was when they needed him.

“So,” he draws out the question, wanting to get back to the mind-walking girl, but he can see there is something still bothering the little Byers. “Did Henderson take over the campaigns? Or did you fill my empty throne upon your return?”

The smile falls from his face like a cinder block, and Will sits down in Wheeler’s seat heavily, gaze still roaming the complex board on the table.

“No, there’s been no games since everything happened.” He sounds sad about it, but Eddie gets the feeling it doesn’t actually have to do with D&D at all. 

“How come?”

“Well, it’s kind of a… sore spot,” Will admits, and then he glances guiltily at Eddie. Who doesn’t get it for a minute.

Oh.

Oh, crap.

It must show on his face that he knows it’s because of him. He was the ringleader of Hellfire, after all.

“Dustin doesn’t even really like talking about it,” Will confides in him. “But he doesn't really talk to anyone about anything, we don’t see him that often. Mostly just at mom’s family dinners when Steve drags him there.”

“I heard about those,” Eddie murmurs, picking at the flaking black polish on his nails to mask the guilt clawing at his chest. “Good ole Steve.” 

“He’s trying so hard to take care of everyone, but I know he spends a lot of time with Dustin. And Max. I really should visit Max more,” he murmurs now, his gaze going further away, and Eddie isn’t sure if he’s waking up from his dream or if Eddie is actually losing him in all this maudlin talk.

“She’s in the hospital, yeah?”

“The doctors aren’t sure if she’ll wake up,” Will tells him. “She’s just… in a coma. El is worried she’s stuck somewhere between the realms, but everyone else is worried she’s just… gone.”

Okay, they needed a topic change.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eddie says, nearly flipping out of the throne in a manner that might have been a little over the top, but it shook the sadness from Will’s eyes and that’s what Eddie was going for. Court Jester, extraordinaire. It worked on Chrissy, it’ll work on little Will Byers. (Although not so little anymore.)

“Sure?”

He fumbles upright, and sits down in Henderson’s chair so he can finally level with the kid.

“You were stuck in the Upside Down when you went missing, right?” He knows he’s right, Henderson had gone into great detail about how it all started, but that's not the point of asking the question. Will nods, confused but intrigued. Super. “Okay, so – how did you hide and like… stay sane? You were just a little munchkin and all but you were in there for days.”

“Time moves differently there,” Will points out, but then shrugs and thinks about it. Looking up at the stage lights in thought. “I hid in this old fort of mine in the forest, it was something I had built myself and it didn’t make me feel so alone.”

Castle Byers, Eddie had seen it. He nods and motions for Will to continue with an exaggerated hand flourish that makes the kid smile. 

“So, here's my theory – after talking with El and some of the others about it, and about how Max hid from Vecna – I think maybe because it held such good and safe memories for me, it protected me like no other house could. I think that’s how I wasn’t caught again.”

Now that, that gives Eddie pause… because his safe spot right now was Harrington’s house. But he had never slept in Steve’s bed before in his life. (Dreamed about it? Of course, but Eddie had only ever stepped foot in his kitchen to do business during house parties. There was no connection to the property itself.) So why was it safe now? Was it Steve’s memory that made it so? A combination with the fact there were no vines inside? It was a lot to mull over, and Will was taking his silence as a go-ahead to continue on.

“Basically, if I had to give any advice,” Will draws out, trying to see what Eddie was angling for. Yes, advice would be greatly appreciated. “The Upside Down is a direct mirror of Hawkins, so go and find the bits of yourself that still exist out there. Things that make you feel more like yourself, and less like you’re living in hell. Clothes or pictures or books. Something that’s not dangerous to carry around, but reminds you of home.”

That makes a lot more sense than Eddie had expected it to. 

He looks back to Will, and gives the kid a grin that is equal parts impressed and appreciative.

“Thanks, kid. I think I’ll just have to do that.”

Will beams at him, a little hero-worship shining in his eyes that Eddie has witnessed before from his little hellion sheep. But then a spark of something like recognition crosses those wide eyes and Will’s gaze narrows at him in suspicion.

“Wait, why would you want to know that?” he questions, and Eddie doesn’t answer. Stays kind of tight-lipped about it because… he could just tell mini-Byers that he’s alive in there and that he should get Good Ole Steve-O and Nancy Wheeler and superhero girl to come rescue his ass. But would he believe him? Or remember?

And he recalls how fast the Nazgûl attacked once he fucked with the lights. The gate was closed, opening it could open up a whole can of worms or whatever that no one was ready to deal with.

Maybe… maybe he should just sit tight, for now, and see if he can help them all out somehow?

((Where was all this self-righteous bullshit coming from?))

Analysis time would also be a problem for Future Eddie.

“Let’s just say, it’ll come in handy for me,” Eddie relents. A little hint. Knowing those shits they’ll figure it all out anyway.

Instead of elaborating, he extends his hand, and waits for Will to clasp it like all good boys had been taught to do.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Will the Wise.”

He’s slow to smile again, but it’s a genuine thing and Eddie takes it for the little speck of Gold it is. “I’m glad I finally got to meet you, Eddie the Banished.”

And Eddie knows he has Henderson to thank for that nickname, but he would wear it proudly for the rest of his days if he ever manages to make it out topside again. 

Although Byers might give Henderson a run for his money on ‘favorite child’, at this rate.

—

When the blood red morning dawn creeps in through Will Byer’s windows, and Eddie crawls out from underneath his bed, there’s a lot of thoughts tumbling around his head as he gathers his things.

In particular, the thought that trying to contact the other side might not be the best idea at the moment. 

For his health? Yeah, possibly. He can’t actually live on moldy food the rest of his days, however short that may be, but he has to think of the bigger picture here. Everyone was having a rough time topside, in a completely different manner to Eddie’s own, but that old saying really rang true to him – shit was tough all over. They were all trying to heal, and knew there was a fight on the horizon. Eddie knew that eventually, everyone else would make it back to the Upside Down to finish this fight. He just had to live long enough to see that day.

So… why didn’t he just use his placement as an advantage?

Why doesn’t he do what he imagined himself doing, and really commit to the bit of espionage? Eddie could commit to the bit so hard he got himself in trouble most of the time. No use switching that up now.

So he gathers his things, tip-toes through the house, and runs right back into the woods. He has quite a few stops to make, but there’s one he needs to do first and foremost.

It takes the better part of the day, but he finally comes to the trailer park. The chasm splitting open the Earth glows and pulses with an intense heat, and there’s things prowling all around, but Eddie stays pressed to the backs of the trailers and dips and ducks around as best he can. Avoiding bats and rats and dogs and what might be a cat-like creature but he’s not entirely sure. Margaret’s trailer is much further down the road, where he’d biked when the bats chased him, so her bunker of Doomsday materials would have to wait.

Will said to find the things that reminded Eddie of himself, so that’s what he was going to do.

Uncle Wayne’s trailer is split in two, but Eddie’s room had been at the back end so it survived – to a degree. He crawls through the wreckage, picking through stuff that’s burnt and probably leaking radiation or some shit (seriously how has he not dropped dead at this rate?) and finally finds the tiny space that used to be his closet. It’s full of shirts and clothes he hasn’t seen in a couple years, but at the bottom is an old metal tool box that he’d stashed a bunch of sewing shit inside of. Patches. Bits of old band T-shirts, and sure enough – he lifts the lid, and finds the very origins of his battle vest. It’s still a jean jacket, at the moment, with sleeves covered in patches and safety pins – he ripped them off the summer between his second and third senior year – but on the back is the freshly hand-stitched Dio logo taking up the entire back panel. It’s gorgeous, and he immediately slips it on under Steve’s leather jacket. He’s lost enough weight the past few weeks it still fits, but he has a feeling he might be ripping off the sleeves sooner rather than later. Because he has some work to do, and some weapons to practice with.

But not before he goes and retrieves the final missing piece of himself.

His sweetheart is lying on the ground, covered in ash, some of the strings rusted. He whispers apologies to her as he picks her up out of the rubble. She’s a beautiful blood red Warlock NJ Series electric guitar that he spent two years saving up for, and as soon as he clips on a strap and slings her across his back, he feels more at peace than he had in a long time. Will the Wise had been right, he feels like he could take on the world with these bits of himself restored.

Harrington’s house was twenty miles away, and sundown was in only a few hours. He had errands to run, a distance to cross, and a realm of monsters in between them.

But he also now has a bike (discarded in a pile from Spring Break just waiting for him to pillage), and his guitar, and his battle jacket. 

Fuck Vecna and his minions. This was Eddie’s world now.

Time to get to work.

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[devondespresso]

Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

_

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

_

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.

One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.

Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.

“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.

“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.

“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”

By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.

“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”

“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.

“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“

“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.

The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.

“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.

“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“

Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”

“Anytime sweetheart.”

[myspacebrat]

౨ৎ 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐮

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: steddie x only fans reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriends wake you up with something better than cake.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, mdni 18+, fem reader, food play, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint, this is reader centered so no mlm action.

𝐚/𝐧: ITS MY BIRTHDAY, BUT THIS BLURB IS MY GIFT TO YOU.

masterlist

The sun rays beam through your curtains, making you groan and stretch before burrowing your head into your fluffy duvet. You’re not ready to face the day yet, although it is your birthday. But if the empty spaces beside you are anything to go by, then your boyfriends are probably downstairs preparing something special for you.

Just as you suspected, loud pots clank together along with Steves barely audible shushing, making you giggle as you continue snuggling into your warm, comfy bed.

Before you realize you’ve even shut your eyes and began to drift off, footsteps and whispered chatter has your eyes reopening and a small yawn leaving your mouth as you turn toward the door to see what’s going on.

It opens slowly before your boyfriends come sauntering inside, twin smirks on their pretty faces.

“Good morning, Birthday girl.” Eddie says with a teasing glint in his brown eyes.

“Good morning, baby.” Your other boyfriend utters with a sweet and charming smile, but you quickly notice the aprons adorning their bodies and as far as you can tell, they’re both naked underneath.

“Good morning, what’s going on?” You rasp, as your eyes flint back and forth between them.

“We made something…um, something way better than breakfast in bed.” The long haired boy says, with a smile that tells you he’s up to no good.

You sit up quickly, curious about what they’re up to, by the look on both of their faces you knew you were gonna have fun, you always did with them.

“Better than breakfast in bed? Well whatever could that be?” The sarcasm in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by them, and they’ll definitely be adding it to the list of punishments they’re going to dish out later for your birthday spankings.

Both boys slowly untie their respective aprons, letting them pool at their feet. Your mouth instantly waters, holy fuck!

“Yeah I would say this is better than breakfast in bed, ya brat.” Steve retorts.

“Mhm, yeah I would agree.” You say absentmindedly as you take them in, they’re both stood there naked from head to toe, but their dicks…well their dicks are covered in frosting and multicolored sprinkles. It’s fucking hot, and your thighs clench together as your eyes stay laser focused. Did you mention their cocks are rock hard? You have no other choice but to slide out of bed and fall to your knees, ready to feast on the best birthday cake you’d ever received.

“Look at her, such a good girl. We don’t even have to give her directions.” Steve says proudly.

“She’s always so hungry for cock, that’s why.” Eddie’s smile ticks up on one side as he looks down at you, that devious glint back in his eyes before he starts moving his hips and shaking his butter cream frosting cock in your face. You take it as a demand and begin licking, from base to tip as the sweet pink frosting collects on your tongue, your taste buds going crazy from your first meal of the day.

“Mmm, that’s my good birthday slut. Clean daddy off.” He groans as he shakes his long hair out of his face, not wanting to miss the show.

You continue with your kitten licks, cleaning his entire rip off before taking him into your mouth.

“There ya go, baby.” Steve whispers into your ear making your eyes open, you realize he’s now kneeling beside you, eyes intent on your lips that are wrapped around your shared boyfriend’s cock.

He gathers your hair into a ponytail before he’s pushing your head further down, eddies tip hitting the back of your throat as you swallow around him. You’ve always found pleasure in giving oral sex but with the boys, it was so much more than that, there pleasure was your pleasure and you’d do anything to hear those gasps and groans fall from their lips.

The same ones that are falling from his pink plush lips right now, every time he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed. They got louder and louder until he was pulling you off with an animalistic snarl.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me fucking come, princess. Jesus. You trying to suck my soul from my body?” He playfully questions, as he looks down at you with complete admiration.

“Big boys turn.” He demands, before Steve stands up and steps right beside him.

You crawl an inch or two over, eyes never leaving Steve’s as you give him an innocent smile, before you move in. Tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, you swirl it around his tip and your head dizzies at the combination of the sweet frosting and his precum together, a delicious mixture.

You glide your tongue lower, lower before reaching his big saggy balls that are also covered in the frosting. You rub your face on them getting pink frosting around your mouth and nose but you don’t care, you’re way too horny to give a damn about anything right now. You suck and lick on his sack dipping each into your mouth until they’re fully cleaned of any remnants of the dessert.

“Fuck yes, love that slutty little mouth of yours. Need to fuck your throat baby, please?” He whines before you decide to give him mercy by wrapping your lips around his base, gliding up until you reach his tip and without warning you’re taking him into your mouth and down your throat, you bob your head as spit gathers and falls with every punch his throbbing tip gives to your uvula. You love having your mouth full like this, being used and filled is one of the best gifts you could ask for.

“That’s it!” Steve groans, as his cock throbs in your mouth.

“Damn, you coming already?” Eddie chuckles, making Steve grunt out a “fuck you.” to the long haired boy.

You look up at Steve with watery eyes, silently begging for his cum and you’re so elated when you see that moment of awareness cross his face, he lets out a gasping moan before he empties down your throat and its even tastier than the frosting. You moan and lick your lips savoring his flavor in your mouth.

“My turn.” Eddie grunts before fisting your hair and bringing you back to his weeping cock that still has traces of pink frosting and sprinkles. You lap at him until all that is left is his angry red tip and throbbing purple veins. “Open your mouth and take me down that throat like a good girl.”

With no warning he thrusts into your mouth, making your eyes water and your tongue tingle as saliva builds up. The noises are obscene and wet, making you clench your thighs in desperation.

“That’s our good little slut.” Steve murmurs from behind you.

Eddie has his hand in your hair, controlling the bobbing of your head as he fucks your throat with hard thrusts of his hips.

“Oh fuck, open your mouth birthday girl, swallow your present.” He groans as his thighs shake, his warm cum spilling on your tongue not long after. You swallow without hesitation, licking your lips as you look up at him.

You sit there for a bit, catching your breath after that brutal throat fuck, before looking at both boys and offering a sweet smile. “Thank you for my present.” You rasp softly, making both boys look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Oh that was just the beginning, baby.”

[sundaynightlive]

Character Development (Steddie)

“If I were you… I would get her back.”

Steve snaps suddenly out of his trance—Eddie’s a pretty boy to look at. Dangerously so. In fact, half of this conversation has gone completely over his head, which is probably why he’s misinterpreted it completely.

“Hold on—pause,” he says, perplexed, “We’re not flirting?” They stop walking in unison, Eddie freezing out of shock, Steve anticipating it. Eddie looks at him, wide eyed, jaw going slack and then taught like he can’t decide which conveys his surprise better.

“I… what?”

“I was just making eyes at you,” Steve says, and then groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God damn it, I’ve really lost my touch.”

“No!” Eddie exclaims quickly, “Ah, no.” He’s flustered. Steve sees the flush in his face—he’s not trying to hide it. “No it’s… it’s working. I just didn’t think… you’re into guys?” Steve shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, and then Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s and they continue walking, easing out of the tension.

“So… how long?”

“How long what?”

“Have you known?” Eddie clarifies, and Steve notices their knuckles are brushing between them. He gazes up at Rob and Nancy, who are blissfully unaware.

“Well… someone came out to me recently so I started looking into it, called my uncle—man, that was an awkward conversation.”

“Your uncle?”

“Oh—he’s gay—has a partner and stuff. They live in California and we visited sometimes when my parents still took me places, you know.” Eddie blinks at him, nodding his head a little bit, but doesn’t look like he’s fully comprehending anything Steve’s saying at all. Steve takes a turn bumping Eddie’s shoulder, thinking maybe it’ll jolt awake some of those gears in his brain.

Their pinkies hook.

“So… what was the conclusion?” Eddie asks, like he doesn’t already know.

“I’ve had nasty thoughts about Harrison Ford way too many times to be straight,” Steve admits cheekily, “He said I’m bi, I guess. It means—“

“I know what it means, Steve.” Steve grins at him, a little sheepish, and Eddie smiles back, something soft and personal. It’s an expression Steve hasn’t seen him make yet, even with all his damn theatrics. To be fair, Steve’s growing quite fond of those theatrics, premature as it might be.

“So, go on,” Steve teases, “What were you saying about me getting back with my ex?

“Hmm, I don’t recall saying anything like that,” Eddie responds.

“Oh really?”

“Really. In fact, that’s a terrible idea. Bad for character development.” Steve laughs then—fully laughs—a sound that must be revolutionary for the Upside Down. No one has ever laughed here, no way.

“Character development?”

“Indeed.”

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

[formosusiniquis]

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.

When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.

They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.

The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.

They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.

He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.

He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.

"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."

Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.

"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."

He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"

Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."

And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.

[roosterbox]

Had this random thinky thought the other day.

Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.

“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”

Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.

But then.

The events of S4 happen.

Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.

Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.

He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.

Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.

But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.

“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.

Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.

And Wayne suddenly understands everything.

He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.

“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.

Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.

“Uhm,” Steve starts.

Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.

Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.

“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“

Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.

“Wayne Munson.”

Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.

“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”

There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.

[steddieas-shegoes]

scared to want you

for @steddie-week prompt 'exes to lovers'

rated m | 1021 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: post breakup, getting back together, idiots in love, platonic stobin

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“Are you gonna stop staring at him anytime soon?” Robin’s voice asked loudly in his ear.

“Probably not,” Steve admitted. “He’s wearing my sweater.”

He saw Robin’s head whip around to look back at Eddie. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

It’s surprising to see Eddie here at all, let alone in Steve’s sweater. Eddie had moved back in with Wayne three months ago after an argument with Steve that led whatever they were to destruction.

Steve wanted more, Eddie had been afraid. Steve said he loved him, Eddie said he needed to leave.

Steve spent the last three months hurting. Eddie was wearing his sweater in public.

Everything was a little confusing right now.

“We should go, Steve.” Robin sounded angry now, and Steve loved her for it. She’d been the one to show up at his door a few hours after Eddie was gone and held him while he cried. She’d been there for weeks while he avoided everyone’s questions, went through the motions of being an adult while barely getting by. She had blocked Eddie on all of his social media and her own out of spite. “It doesn’t do you any good to sit here and pine after someone who hurt you.”

She was right, of course, but he couldn’t leave.

Eddie was wearing his sweater.

Eddie looked good in his sweater.

“Steve.”

Steve turned to Robin, who was smiling sadly back at him.

“I don’t think I can go without talking to him.”

Robin nodded once, always so understanding of Steve, supportive even when he didn’t always deserve it. She was the best, and he was about to piss her off.

“I’ll text you when I leave,” he said as he gave her a quick hug. She wouldn’t want to stick around to see what happens with this. “I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t, and she knew that, but she squeezed his hand in hers and left anyway.

Eddie hadn’t noticed him yet, or at least wasn’t acting like he had. He was standing at the bar talking to the bartender and a woman who walked in only a few minutes ago. Whatever he was talking about seemed serious, none of them smiling.

Steve walked up to the bar slowly, but with the sole purpose of talking to Eddie.

The bartender turned to him and smiled. “Hey, hon. You need another Sunrise, Sunset?”

Steve shook his head, but smiled at her. “No thanks, Kim. Just here to say hi to someone.”

When he turned towards Eddie, he was already looking back at him, biting his lip nervously.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Been a bit,” Steve swallowed. He didn’t actually know what he was trying to accomplish here. All he knew was there had to be a reason he was wearing Steve’s sweater. It wasn’t exactly his usual style. “Doing alright?”

The other woman seemed to catch onto what was going on, turning away and talking to the bartender instead.

“Um, yeah I guess.” Eddie was lying. Steve could always tell when he was lying. “You?”

“Been better,” Steve replied. “A little surprised to see you here. In that.”

Eddie looked down at what he was wearing and then up at Steve, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Laundry day.”

“Sure.” Steve sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. He just had to say something. Maybe closure would be good. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Eddie nodded and started to walk to the back of the bar where the office and bathrooms were. Steve followed, assuming they’d go into the bathroom and hope no one came in. When Eddie led him into the office, Steve frowned.

“I don’t think we have permission to be in here.”

“I work here part time. Kim lets me take my breaks in here,” Eddie explained, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t know you liked this bar.”

“We’ve only been a few times,” Steve explained.

“Oh, you’ve um. You and your date?” Eddie was leaning against the desk, eyes cast down to his feet.

“No. Me and Robin.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Right, good, yeah.”

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve stepped closer, could almost feel the heat coming off of Eddie’s body. Eddie looked up at him, eyes watery and bottom lip bitten red. “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“I needed you.” Eddie’s broken voice was all Steve needed to close what little distance remained between them, pulling Eddie against him and holding him as tightly as he possibly could.

“I didn’t think you needed me anymore,” Steve said against his neck, trying not to get his hopes up despite Eddie’s tears now soaking his shirt. “You didn’t want me anymore.”

Eddie’s hands tightened in Steve’s shirt and Steve felt him shake his head. “I wanted you too much. I was scared how much I wanted you.”

“Are you still scared now?”

“Only that I don’t have you.”

Steve’s lips found Eddie’s, hopeful and desperate.

Eddie took control within seconds, turning them around so Steve was sitting on the corner of the desk, legs spread so Eddie could fit between them. Where he belonged.

As Eddie’s hands pushed Steve’s shirt up and Steve’s legs pulled him in impossibly closer, the thought that they were still in a public place occurred to Steve.

He ignored it as Eddie’s thumb brushed against his nipple and his teeth bit his bottom lip.

“Want you now,” Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck. “Want you forever.”

“Lock the door.” Steve ordered.

Eddie locked the door.

****

When they left the office, hair disheveled and suspicious stains on their shirts, they were met with a knowing look from Kim.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve out the door by the small of his back.

“Still living with Wayne?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Could we go to yours?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“Only if it can be ours.”

Eddie stopped him on the sidewalk, eyes blinking furiously. “You would want that? After I left?”

Steve smiled. “Are you gonna leave again or are you gonna let me love you?”

“You can still love me?”

“I couldn’t not love you.”

“Then let’s go to ours.”

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Father's Day

Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!

prompt: "stuff" || wc: 483 || rated: G || cw: none

~~~

Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking. 

The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”

Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.

Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.

He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.

“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.

Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.

“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.

Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.

Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat. 

His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.

“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.

“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.

”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.

“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”

“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”

Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.

But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

~~~

To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 2/6/24

prompt: coming out

pairing/character(s): steddie, Dustin, Lucas, Mike

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Eddie fucked up. Big time.

See, he's truly embraced his freak status at Hawkins High. Meaning he doesn't exactly shy away from his queerness. He doesn't confirm it, not for people he's not friends with. It's just useful. Being gay is the kind of 'freak' that makes the popular kids steer clear from him, just in case they, you know, catch the queer from him.

But with his fellow freaks? They know he's gay.

In fact, they know he has a boyfriend.

He never shares who said boyfriend is, or the fact that he used to be nicknamed The Hair, because Steve doesn't want anyone to know. He's.. private about his sexuality, to say the least. And Eddie gets it. Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere, it's not exactly gay-friendly like some parts of bigger cities. So his friends don't know who his boyfriend is.

They won't until well after Steve's come out to his own friends, which he hasn't said he's ready for yet. Eddie's letting him go at his own pace, he doesn't even bring it up to him. He doesn't want Steve to feel pressured. Steve doesn't have a Wayne there to support him through everything, after all.

Anyway, despite him being anonymous, Eddie always gives everyone an update on his boyfriend before they start the session of DnD each week. It's kind of a bit for everyone involved at this point.

And in the first session that Eddie's newest fresh sheep attend, he refuses to shy away from it. Either they'll be bigots (unlikely) or they'll be fine with it! It's a risk he's willing to take for his pride.

So he gives the update.

"How's your boyfriend, Ed?" Gareth asks with a teasing grin, and Eddie's closest friends lean toward him with giggles.

"Well, my sweetheart has had a great week. Remember that job I told you he'd applied for?"

"Assistant basketball coach for a kids team?" Jeff checks, and Eddie points at him like he's just scored a point.

"That's the one! He got the job! It's a bit of a drive but it sure as shit beats the minimum wage bullshit he was doing before. I swear, his manager actually hates his guts for no reason."

The existing Hellfire members all cheer at the news, whilst one of the new recruits, Henderson, makes an inquisitive noise and chuckles.

"That's crazy, because my friend Steve called me yesterday with super similar news! Small world, huh?" He says it so casually, looking down straight after to fiddle with his dice.

But Eddie feels like the world stops, his hands freezing in the middle of unfolding his dungeon master screen. Fuck. Henderson is one of Steve's kids.

Maybe no one has actually caught on yet. A sneaky glance to his friends reveals nothing but confused frowns on their faces.

"You guys might have known Steve, actually. Steve Harrington? Used to be a mega asshole through most of high school." Wheeler says in a way that somehow sounds simultaneously fond and like he despises Steve.

"He's great now, though! Like, totally reformed. Such a mom." Sinclair adds on.

Eddie nods passively at their words, and feels Gareth, Jeff and Paul's eyes on him. Right, he's still frozen in shock. He forces himself to relax, and finally finishes setting up the DM screen.

"Haha, what a coincidence." He manages, clearing his throat in the middle to clear up an unfortunate voice crack.

That voice crack gets all three of the kids to tilt their heads at him, and then their eyes light up like they've just won the lottery.

Shit shit shit. Hopefully they haven't put two and two together.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the session without revealing anything else, but as he draws it to a close his heart starts beating faster. He doesn't know how he didn't put it together before that these kids are Steve's kids. Steve is literally going to be late to their date night because he has to pick them up from an afterschool activitiy.

What other club meets up on a Friday but Hellfire?

He shakes his head and starts speeding through packing up his stuff. He's going through in his head ways to apologise to Steve in case the kids have figured it out, heart beating out of his chest as he zips his backpack up and leaves the room. The group of newbies run out after him, though.

"Eddie, wait up!" Henderson shouts after him, and he winces but stops.

"What's up?" He says with what he hopes is a smile but is probably a grimace.

"It's so funny how you're Steve's secret boyfriend." Henderson says with a giggle after he's checked no one else has left the drama room yet.

Wait, what? Eddie frowns at him, mouth open. Before he can question anything Sinclair nods along in agreement.

"We've been guessing for weeks now. You can't tell him we found out through you, I want to win our bet."

"If we figure out who his boyfriend is by the end of the month he's taking us to that tabletop RPG store in Indy." Wheeler adds on.

Eddie gapes at them for another second.

"Wait, Steve- he came out to you? When?" He manages, and the three boys tilt their heads at him.

"Like, since a month ago?" Sinclair guesses after a moment of thought, and Eddie lets out a quiet 'huh'.

"What, do you guys not talk about that shit?" Henderson asks, and Eddie shakes his head slowly, thinking back on if he had been told and had just forgotten.

Then it clicks. Just under a month ago, Steve had started to bring up the topic of coming out, and Eddie had gently insisted he didn't mind if Steve never came out and that he loves him anyway and he doesn't want him to feel pressured. And Steve had smiled fondly and let it go.

Had Steve been trying to tell him he came out to his kids?

He lets his head drop and takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate. Thank fuck. He hasn't just accidentally outed his boyfriend.

"He's actually waiting for us in his car. I would say come with, but..."

"We're serious about this bet."

Eddie nods, and waves his hand in their general direction.

"Yeah, of course. Sure. You- you go win that bet. Jesus christ."

He hears them walk away and lets out an incredulous laugh to himself before he hears the drama room door swing open again, the chatter of Jeff, Gareth and Paul cutting off when they see the state he's in.

"You good, man?" Paul asks, and Eddie just lets out a sigh.

"Totally fine. Just thinking about wooing my sweetheart." He says, like they've walked into a joke he's set up.

They all groan, but continue walking toward the school's exit, and Eddie stays there, recovering from that shitshow.

[steddiehyperfixation]

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 

“Steve…” 

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 

Shit. 

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 

Fuck. 

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

(ao3 link)

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 5 | exes to lovers

fully and completely inspired by @emchant3d's divorced dad's post [x] from a few weeks ago bc i did not once stop thinking abt it

tags: modern day, artist!eddie, finance guy!steve, steddie as rich gay divorcees, sort of an accidental parent trap situation

They were too young, Steve thinks in retrospect – married at twenty-three, their daughter born when they were twenty-five, and then divorced before his twenty-seventh birthday.

He gets to think retrospectively because in a few years it’ll be a full decade since the papers for that last bit got signed. Now, Steve is thirty-four and sweating his ass off in a red polo and crisp jeans, the stiflingly hot July sun beating down on him as he scans the perimeter of a crowded playground for a familiar head of curly brown hair – not his nine-year-old. He found Rosalind already, wreaking havoc on the jungle gym. No, he’s looking for his ex (-husband, technically, but Steve usually stops at ex; the -husband part just makes him sad these days).

It’s custody swap day, which is either his favorite or least favorite day of the week depending on who the swap is favoring.

Today it’s favoring him which is why he’s slowly making his way around the edge of a playground in Bushwick, keeping an eye out for his ex, Eddie.

“Steve,” he hears from somewhere behind him. Steve turns towards the sound and sees not that curly head of hair he’d expected. Eddie’s hair is completely buzzed (which, for the record, was not the case last week when Steve dropped Rozzy off with him) and he’s wearing a paint-splattered white t-shirt tucked into old jeans and all that combined is making it reeeally hard for Steve to pretend he’s not crushing hard on the guy he divorced eight years ago.

“Dude,” Steve started, eyeing Eddie’s hair (or lack thereof) as he made his way to the section of fence that Eddie was occupying, “What–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Rozzy already hit me with all the good zingers so you’re too late.”

“No, I don’t –” Steve stopped, “It’s…not a bad look, just…you know. Why the change?”

Eddie looked away.

“Long story,” he replied as Steve remembered (yet again) that he doesn’t get full access to Eddie’s world the way he used to.

Luckily for Steve, Rozzy runs up to them and spares him from having to figure out a response for that.

“We should get pizza,” she says. Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“We should get pizza?” he repeats.

“Please,” she adds, her eyes shining, “At Dad’s? And we play Mario Kart? Dad said I’m getting good at 200!”

“He said that?” Steve asked, and he glances over Rosalind's head to see that Eddie is making a so-so gesture with his hand.

He’s never been all that good at saying no to his daughter (or anyone), so it doesn’t take much more convincing on Rozzy’s part for the three of them to head off in the direction of Eddie’s loft, with a pitstop planned for the pizza shop down the block.

They actually have a nice time.

It’s true that Rozzy is getting better at 200cc – good might be a bit generous, but Steve’s fine with that (he doesn’t know if his ego could handle getting crushed by a fourth-grader).

Just as they’re finishing their second grand prix (the Star Cup, because Rozzy likes the dolphin race), one of the other kids in the building knocks on the door and invites Rozzy over for a sleepover, which Steve agrees to because he remembers the illicit kind of joy in a summertime Monday night sleepover.

Eddie doesn't show Steve the door after Rozzy's gone. Rather, he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge – an expensive Sémillon he says was given to him by a client.

“So the art biz is still going well, I assume,” Steve comments as Eddie pulls two vintage wine glasses out of a cabinet and pours them each a healthy serving.

Conversation about work manages to sustain them through the first few glasses (Eddie actually remembered that it’s been just over a year since Steve left his dad’s Fortune 1000 for a CFO position at a marketing company that had just graduated from small to midsize status). They work through the second quarter of the bottle talking about Rozzy, and the third vanishes even quicker while Steve spills some of the latest Harrington family drama.

While Eddie is updating him on how Wayne is doing, Steve finds that he isn’t really listening, distracted in the way he can’t help but notice how Eddie’s paint-stained t-shirt is actually more like an undershirt, and a size too small for him, the torso and sleeves tight around lean muscle, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck and a scruff of facial hair around his jaw, and –

Steve doesn’t immediately realize when Eddie stopped talking. When he does, when his eyes finally unstick themselves from the buzzcut and drop back down to Eddie’s, he sees that Eddie is staring at him too.

Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lip.

“Ask me again why I buzzed my hair,” he tells him.

“Why’d you buzz your hair,” Steve asks, because he’s obedient like that (and because he really does want to know).

“Steve–” Eddie stops, a giggly, wine-induced hiccup of a laugh slipping out before he shakes his head, “An entire can of paint tipped ov–” He cuts himself off with another half-hysterical laugh, barely managing to say, “Spilled on my head,” before he was completely doubled over, and Steve is laughing too because he can totally picture it and because he had a bit more wine than he planned to and this is honestly the first time that he and Eddie have hung out without their daughter in…Steve doesn’t even know how long.

“Steve,” Eddie says again when they finally both recover, and his tone is completely different this time around and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t there before and something is happening, something is happening, “Please don’t kill me for saying this, but…fuck, it’s really kinda pathetic how badly I still want it to be you and me.”

Steve thinks he tries to respond, but then he was too busy kissing Eddie to do anything else, too busy scraping fingernails over Eddie’s scalp, too busy choking back a moan as Eddie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, too busy tugging Eddie’s shirt out of his waistband to shove a hand up underneath and finding that he’s built more solidly than Steve remembers from the last time they touched like this, but something is telling him that’s true about Eddie – true about himself too – in more ways than one.

And if Rosalind comes home the next morning ready to ask how she’s getting back to Daddy’s house only to find that he’s already there, stealing Dad’s mug out of his hand for a sip of coffee when his own is right there…that’s a conversation for another day.

part 2