#and steddie is life now

[laundrybiscuits]

The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”

Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”

The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner. 

“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”

“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”

Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?

He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” 

“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”

“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt. 

He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”

“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”

“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip. 

“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”

Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”

“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”

“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”

“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”

“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.” 

“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel. 

There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”

“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know. 

He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.

(ETA: small continuation here!)

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie led a weird life.

This was something he welcomed, given half the things people thought were “weird” was just his fashion sense or preference for table top games.

Small potatoes to the larger things in life, really. 

Of course, this was before he found out there was an evil version of Hawkins underneath him. 

Now Eddie did things that would previously sent his old self into a fucking coma. 

His friendship with Steve Harrington for example.

Dude saved his life and bridal-style carried him out of literal hell.

It’d have been rude not to be friendly with the guy after that, even if they weren’t both  members of a very exclusive and bloody club, with trauma and secrets that really only a select few people would ever understand.  

Sleeping over at Harrington’s half the week also made perfect sense, and Eddie will argue that to his very grave. 

It turns out nightmares suck, and waking up screaming all the time sucks even more.

Something everyone involved in this entire escapade (and all the ones prior) knew.

Because more bodies means more eyes to look out for you, and feeling safe means you might actually sleep for an hour, they all got used to showing up at each other's houses at odd hours of the night.

Pulled one another out of nightmares and got comfortable with the fact that they slept better, together.

Steve’s house in particular is typically void of both adults and annoying freshmen, which meant it's the most comfortable place for a lot of people to crash together. 

(Sometimes the annoying freshmen do show up and maybe Eddie is also a little weirdly overprotective of the whole Party now, and alright fine, he enjoys all their company, even Erica's--but who's keeping track? 

He isn’t. 

He’s busy arguing all this is perfectly normal.) 

Sleeping in Steve’s bed is where things get a little tricky. 

See, when it was more than just Robin and Eddie crashing at Casa De Harrington, they all sleep in the living room. 

Steve drags out some fancy blow up mattress (an air mattress what the fuck) and changes the couches around and long story short his fucking living room is more comfortable than Eddie’s own bed has ever been. 

But when it's just Eddie and Robin, they retire to Steve’s stupid huge bed, so large the damn thing takes up most of his equally massive room. 

(“This isn’t weird right?” He’d asked Robin once, hanging his head over the edge of the bed while Steve did--whatever it was he was doing to his hair in the bathroom. 

Robin, who was busy rifling through Steve’s drawers for a shirt to steal, stopped and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Not unless you make it weird, Munson.” She’d told him, and well, that was all the permission he needed.

They slept together in tight groups, where it was easiest to defend each other in case of Upside Down fucking monster attack.

Case closed.) 

Sleeping in Steve Harrington’s bed, without the buffer that was Robin Buckley, is where the lies started.

Because it was weird. 

It was incredibly weird, and did guys even do this solo?

Eddie hadn’t. If one of Hellfire or the band stayed over, it was a strictly floor/bed/couch situation unless there were more than three of them, and that was within Eddie’s small ass trailer. 

Sure they piled up if they had to, but it wasn't like it was with Steve. All tangled limbs and being right up in each others space, no pillow or blanket or anything as a buffer.

Hell, Eddie had woken up getting spooned or doing the spooning more than once, and no one said shit.

How Steve made it sound so genuinely normal was beyond him. 

Not that Eddie argued about it.

 Not the first time of the fifth or the twenty-fifth, and not even after Robin pointed out he was rooming with Harrington more than she was.

Because he just slept better, next to Steve.

(Steve apparently, felt the same.

Or must have given it kept happening.)

It wasn’t like Steve didn’t crash at Eddie’s trailer either--his parents had come right home upon hearing about the earthquake, and had been a bit more present after running into the joint forces of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers in the hospital lobby. 

Add in Wayne’s own Disapproving Stare (TM) and the town being up each other’s ass to try and keep it together, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were hanging out in Hawkins that much more.

(Steve seemed to think it was more to save face rather than because they actually gave a shit, which Eddie felt was obvious but he wasn’t gonna say it. 

“They’re trying I think. They just--they’ve never encountered anything like this.” He’d said, a little frown line pinching his eyebrows together.

“Stevie, no one has faced anything like what we have. Your parents, on the other hand, are only dealing with what they think is the aftermath of an earthquake and plenty of people have seen those.”

Steve had sighed. Stared a little helplessly, like he knew he was making excuses but couldn’t help himself.

 “I know, Eds. I know.”) 

Them being home more meant Steve was at Eddie’s more--on grounds that Robin’s parents were fine with him hanging out but drew some kind of weird not--very--hippy line at him sleeping over.

Which was fine.

Great even, the Eddie and Steve had never slept better! Sucks to be Robin, who had to call up Nancy Wheeler if she wanted to share.

All this was, was trauma buddies being guy pals who were very comfortable with each other due to said fucking trauma. 

Steve used to help Eddie take a piss for fucks sake, and according to literally everyone else involved in the Vecna related mess, this was their fourth go round with supernatural shit.

Chances of it all happening a fifth time seemed kinda high, even if the gate was supposedly closed and the psychotic meat puppet madman six feet underground. 

Sharing was caring, and caring was not letting your new buddy you saved fight off monsters alone if they popped back up.

Plus he and Steve spent a huge amount of time together, almost as much time as Steve did with Robin.They were all in each other’s back pockets to the point that Eddie’s band was used to it, with Gareth even starting to make secret lover jokes about it all. 

(The dick.)

They were just really good friends dealing with the shit life had dealt them. That was it, that was the whole ass story.

Eddie’s growing gay crisis aside.

So no. It wasn't all the time with Harrington that sent Eddie over the edge. Nor was it the bed sharing, rapidly dropping boundaries, or even the fact that Steve knew where Eddie kept his condoms (An accident Eddie wouldn't ever live down, holy shit.)

No, what sent him into an absolute, hair tearin' meltdown, was the day Steve woke up, rolled over, kissed Eddie right on the lips and then went to make breakfast.

No good morning, no how ya doin.

Steve just left Eddie there, clutching onto the sheets for dear life and mildly terrified he’d just hallucinated the entire encounter.

(Hell, maybe the whole thing was hallucinated. 

Maybe he died in the Upside Down and this was some sort of sick version of the afterlife. 

Eddie pinched himself, and when that wasn’t enough, bit his own knuckle. Both hurt, which was unfortunate, because death seemed preferable to dealing with life right then.)  

Unfortunately for him, Steve did not run back into the room with a myriad of excuses, which meant Eddie had to experience the horrifying ordeal of getting out of bed, putting his clothes on and going into the trailer’s kitchen--because Steve hadn’t even had the decency to wreck Eddie’s life at his own house. 

‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--’

Heart galloping, Eddie put on his big boy pants--metaphorically and physically--before stepping out into the kitchen and confront his friend.

Who was cooking shirtless, without a care in the world. 

It still took him a full thirty seconds to get his mouth to work.

“Hey Stevie? Do you want to tell me what that was about?” 

"Hmm?” Steve replied. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed in a way Eddie knew only a few select people had ever seen it.

He looked half asleep, and proved it a second later when he reached twice for the one of the two mugs on the counter and missed entirely.

Eddie swung in, grabbing one and offering it out for Steve to pour coffee into, before swapping it out for the other mug once Steve was done. 

Stayed in Steve’s space even as the former jock fussed with adding in milk and sugar and whatever else he was feeling, working up the courage to say something.

Anything. 

“Uh, the--just now?” Eddie squeaked. He coughed to clear his voice, trying desperately to act normal.

Look normal.

Like he hadn't just been kissed by the guy he had absolute worst crush on.

Steve, bless him, didn’t tease him. Just shoved one of the mugs into Eddie’s hands and kept the other for himself.

Took a nice, slow sip, adam's apple bobbing and Eddie quickly averted his gaze, staring firmly into his coffee. 

“What happened?” Steve asked a second later, sounding a touch more clear, and not at all like he was experiencing deep regret, or dodging the question, or even aware of what had happened. 

Eddie had two seconds to realize that hell, maybe Steve really didn’t know, before his mouth once betrayed him. 

“When you kissed me?” And motherfucker, for once, Eddie wished he would think before he fucking spoke.

(Wayne had always told him he'd come to regret it. He just hadn't thought it'd be like this!)

“Oh.” Steve said, very anticlimatically. “I didn’t realize I did that, sorry.” 

Eddie's entire body twitched.

One long shudder, like it was rejecting the very words coming out of Steve's mouth.

“You didn’t,” He tried, voice dry and cracking. He realized his hands were shaking and promptly put his mug down before he dropped it. “You just--what, did that on instinct?”

“...Kinda, yeah.” Steve said and why the hell did he sound entirely unphased!? 

Was this some kind of weird jock thing? Did the basketball team all wake up together and kiss each other on the mouth?! Did they think it was some sort of straight--guy haha joke, or fucking--Eddie didn’t even know what, because Eddie was too busy spiraling. 

“Steve I’m gay.” He blurted out, mouth now firmly ahead of his brain. 

He instantly wanted to take it back.

Grab the words with his hands, and cram it into his mouth.

Maybe Steve was only cool with it if he thought Eddie was straight.

Hell, maybe he fucking did it while sleep walking or something and Eddie was the one being weird about it, or he--fuck, really did imagine it and, and--!

“I know.” Steve told him, interrupting Eddie’s catastrophizing entirely. 

“You know?” Eddie stared at him, feeling like the world had fallen out from underneath his feet. “How do you know!?” 

He actually had a pretty good idea of how Steve knew, considering they were both friends with Robin, but while Robin was comfortably out to both of them, Eddie was not. 

Had not in fact, even confirmed that he was queer to Robin herself, though he’d hinted at it plenty and shared more than one inside joke.

Didn’t think Robin had outed him or anything, but more that, well…

Steve was smarter than the kids made him sound, that’s for damn sure. 

“Honestly dude? You’re not subtle.” Steve told him and at least he finally sounded serious.

Like this was a much needed conversation and not some weird tangent Eddie was on. 

“The handkerchief, that triangle pin that you and Robin both have, the fact that you once jumped in my pool to get away from Dustin asking about you're dating life."

He rolled one hand in an etc. all gesture, before adding;  “Also there was that time you and Robin got absolutely smashed on my dad’s whiskey and argued about who the hottest Rocky Horror actor was.” 

Eddie’s mouth sprang open to defend himself, but absolutely nothing came out. 

When had they even watched Rocky Horror together!? 

“You kept insisting the guy who played Brad was hotter than the one who played Rocky, remember? I thought Robin was going to strangle you because she like, adores Susan Sarandon.” Steve continued, like they were having one of their playful little spats and not--not discussing Steve kissing him!

“You guys asked me to tie-break,” He added slowly,  like he was trying to jog Eddie’s memory. “and I told you guys I thought both were hot.” 

Which--oh.

Oh.

“Okay so you’re…?” 

Not going to kill me is what Eddie intended to say, but Steve took it as another question entirely, and answered with a nod and a hum. 

Which--okay. 

Steve Harrington was bisexual, and also already thought he’d come out to Eddie. 

He could roll with that. 

That was not the problem, at all. 

The problem was; “That doesn’t explain the kiss though?!” 

Steve finally put his coffee down, huffing out exasperatedly. “I  wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t realize I did it, man. We share a bed a lot and I guess I wasn’t--I must have--” 

And now, finally, Steve was getting embarrassed. A red flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, vivid even on his tan skin. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie knew purely from the sheer amount of time they spent together that it was a self-soothing action. 

“I guess I’m sorry?”

It came out less as a question and more as an accusation-- which Steve himself seemed to hear because he immediately corrected it with a far less sassy and much more sincere; “No I am--I’m sorry.” 

None of which answered why Steve had kissed him. 

“You didn’t think I was Nance, did you?” Eddie asked, because apparently he just couldn't stop while he was ahead.

Maybe he should have died. It'd be better for both of them, considering he was doing about as good as kicking Steve while he was down.

Steve, the guy who had saved Eddie's life and was now one of his best friends and here Eddie was, dragging this out of him like a moron.

“No.” Steve said immediately. Reflexively, almost, firm and sure. “I am very aware you’re not Nancy.”

‘Let it go Eddie. Don’t make it weird Eddie. Just laugh it off and say okay--’

“Then who did you think it was? I mean you said it was instincts and like, I'm not stupid. I know I can be confused for Nance in the low light, it's happened before but--"

Stupid, stupid, stupid! 

“I didn’t think. I knew it was you." Steve interrupted. "I knew I was kissing you, Eddie."

Oh god, just kill him now.

Hell he'd even take a Vecna death! With all the gross gore and the shitty villain monologue!

"This morning I was tired, and I was sleepy, and I apparently skipped the part in my head were I asked you out and we were dating.” Steve deadpanned at him.

Eddie gaped, mind shattered and rapidly reforming.

It was like the universe was recreating itself, only this time all the stars had aligned and his wish had come true and some Disney director had taken control of his life--

“But I get it if I’m not your type." Steve was saying, because Steve was perfect.

And Kind.

And wanted to date Eddie.

"I’m sorry if I made things uncomf-mmphhh!” 

‘Mmmph’ because Eddie had flung himself at Steve, face first, the second "I asked you out and we were dating" had finished processing.

(Which was alarming fast, considering he'd been struggling all morning.)  

‘D--ff--ing?” 

Steve laughed in his mouth as Eddie tried to talk while kissing, pulling away slightly and holding his chest back with a hand when Eddie tried to chase him anyway. 

“Yes, dating. As in, would you, Eddie Munson, like to go on a date with me, Steve Harrington?” 

“Yes.” Eddie’s mouth said. 

At least this time it and his brain were on the same wavelength. 

“Yes I very much would.” He put some weight into his lean, making it harder for Steve to hold him back. “I think you can tell, by the way I'm trying to kiss you. Which you are not doing."

He pouted, and refused to be embarrassed about his behavior.

Steve laughed, and he might have said something like “God you changed up fast” except he had given in and let Eddie close again, and his words were now being swallowed down.

Eddie's life was weird alright, and now it was weird even by his own standards, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

[kissinvampires]

the last few days I've been thinking about Eddie calling Steve all kinds of pet names, he and Robin have a bet, Eddie has to see how many different ones he can come up with and also aim to make Steve blush so hard he has to cover his face (this has only happened once and Robin needs to see it again).

Que Eddie, walking around calling him everything under the sun, Sweetheart, Honey, Cutie Pie, Bambi (that one gets him quite a lot of blush but still not enough), Hot Stuff, Beautiful, Daddy Long Legs (that had gotten him a glare and shove to the shoulder, and some neck blushing.) You name a sweet or weird pet name, he's used it, and gotten nowhere. Robin has broken down and started feeding him pet names to help at this point.

And then one day, just out of the fucking blue, the words "Sugar Tits" fall out of his mouth and he's mortified. But so is Steve. The blush crawls down his neck and he hides behind his hands, but he's also flustered and (seemingly) outraged. Like, picture Captain Holt from Brooklyn 99 during the BOoOooOooONE!?!?!??! situation. (And in case y'all can't picture it i made a handy guild: pictured below 👍🏻).

But Steve KEEPS bringing it up because "EDWARD WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME!?!?!" and Eddie is equally mortified and he's like "I DON'T KNOW IT JUST CAME OUT!!! IM SO SORRY!!"

They aren't dating when this happens. But they start dating because of it. And Eddie absolutely calls Steve sugar tits aaaaalllllll the time after this. Only when they're alone. It always makes Steve snort and blush and scowl. But he secretly adores it, cuz it always comes with Eddie hugging or kissing or cuddling him.

Meme incoming in 3...2...1...

[strangersteddierthings]

"I think we should break up," is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him.

Steve's first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn't do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over.

He's breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn't run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It's the last bit there that drains Steve's anger.

Something's happened.

He drops his arms and says, "well, you're not dumping me on my porch. Get in here."

This doesn't seem like the response Eddie was expecting. Even though he has been looking at Steve this whole time he still manages to do a double take at him. Steve just shoves the door open a bit wider when he turns and heads back to the kitchen, where the dishes are not washing themselves because he doesn't have a dishwasher.

"I-I'm serious, Steve," Eddie is stammering behind him, which is good. Means he did follow. Steve hears the door shut and the shuffling sound of what he assumes is Eddie trying to pull off his combat boots without untying them, like the animal he is.

"Don't shout at me in my own home! Get in this kitchen," Steve shouts, then smiles and relishes in the offended huff Eddie lets out because Steve is the one shouting. Steve picks up the dish towel he'd deposited on the counter and throws it back over his shoulder, then get back to the dishes. There's just a couple bowls and a pot left, might as well get them done.

The sink is perpendicular to the doorway, so he watches Eddie slink into the small galley kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway to frown at Steve. "I'm breaking up with you and you're just, what, gonna wash dishes?"

"You're not breaking up with me, but yes. Look, one bowl down already. Just two more dishes."

"I- what. Yes, I am!"

"Edifer, you are 24 years old. That's much too old to just show up, yell 'we're over' at someone and run away. We're going to talk about this," he's not sure if it's the nickname, or the scolding parent voice he's put on, but it gets a huff of laughter from Eddie, and he counts it as a win.

"Alright, dad."

Steve grins, "I'll be dad if you be Daddy."

There's some sputtering from Eddie, and Steve gets the final dish done before Eddie says, "you can't just say that when I'm breaking up with you! That's- that's manipulative!"

He shrugs in response. "Seems fair. You're messing with my feelings; I'm messing with your feelings."

Those words freeze Eddie, and Steve can see him processing the words. Did Eddie really not consider that Steve had feelings involved? "I- that's... um."

He takes his time to unplug the sink, rinsing away the left-over bubbles before drying his hands and turning around. Eddie looks less wild and scared, now. More conflicted and uncertain. Which could be a good or bad thing. "Did you think you would just come over, break up with me, and I'd be, like, completely fine with it?"

"No," Eddie is quick to say, "Not completely fine but like, fine enough. It's- we've only been together for a month."

Steve frowns at that. He's not going to take offense to the 'only' added in there, because he's grown a lot over the last four years. He's mature now. "Sure, but beyond that, we've been friends since the world almost ended. I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page, here."

Eddie's fidgety again, in the bad way, pacing up and down the length of the kitchen. "What if this was a mistake?"

"What if it wasn't?"

That stops Eddie in his tracks, whipping around to look at Steve. "What if this goes bad? What if you meet someone else and they can give you everything I can't? What if-"

"Whoa, Eddie!" Steve shoves off the sink and gets to Eddie in two steps. His hands come up, hovering. He wants to touch, comfort, but... well, if he allowed to? "I- where's all this coming from?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!"

"What?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!! They were the forever couple! Perfect for each other! If they couldn't make it work, how am I supposed to be able to?"

Ah. The root of it. Eddie, afraid he's not good enough. Fuck it. Eddie can shove him off if he doesn't want Steve to touch him. He slides an arm around Eddie's waist, his other hand going up to caress his cheek before cupping it, a move he knows makes Eddie melt like cotton candy on the tongue. "Eddie, baby, we make it work by working on it. Not just giving up."

Eddie does melt into Steve, his own arms wrapping around Steve (probably against Eddie's will). "I- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm gonna fuck this up and you'll hate me, and everything will be ruined."

"Well, that's melodramatic."

Eddie glares at him even as he nuzzles into Steve's palm. "Rude."

"Baby, so long as you just talk to me, we'll be okay. Don't just show up and declare you're gonna break up with me. I think there's some steps we can take before it gets to that."

He watches Eddie swallow thickly before he nods his head. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"So, we okay? You aren't gonna break my heart?"

Eddie whimpers at that, throwing himself forward to shove his face into Steve's neck. Steve settles his hand on the back of Eddie's head, idly scratching it while his other arm tightens its hold. When Eddie speaks, it's muffled and directly into his skin. "No. No breaking hearts."

"Hmm, good," Steve says, content to hold his boyfriend in his kitchen for however long Eddie wants to be held.

He'll call and check in on Dustin a bit later, too.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

ovulation being a hell of a drug that ends up getting steddie together like

eddie and queen bee stevie harrington who have a weird kind of friendship where they share like. Everything. not a single secret between them. like eddie's got stevie's cycle pretty much memorised and she knows about every inappropriately timed boner he's ever had. and they're talking one day, smoking, shooting the shit, and there's a second of silence before stevie's like. oh my god. im so horny im gonna die. and eddie's like huh what. and stevie goes like there's a stain on your wall that's kind of shaped like a sperm and that made me think about cum and now im all bricked up. my vaginas haunted. fucking sperm shaped stain.

and eddie's like. wait girls- ok you know what im saying this in my head and im realising this sounds dumb but like. i thought girls didn't like. Get Like That. like i thought random horniness at a stiff breeze was a guy thing

and stevie snorts like nope girls get it too we just get to hide it bc we don't get boners. swear to god there's like a week of every month where i get fucking possessed or some shit. robin says it's like a period thing

but you're not on your period?

and stevie's like no it's like. the opposite of a period. like your period is your uterus being like hey you fucked up you're not pregnant but Horny Week is your uterus being like okay im ready let's get a baby in there time to get pregnant you know what to do. it's called like. oval. something. oval something. im all fertile and my body's trying to trick me, the fuckn prick.

and eddie just kinda goes huh and then there's another second of silence where he tries very hard not to think about stevie being pregnant. and then stevie throws her arms up with a frustrated sigh like god DAMN it now im thinking about being pregnant and eddie's internally like well at least it's not just me

and anyway another joint later this obviously devolves into stevie shoving eddie's hand down her pants and telling him please it'll be so quick he doesn't even have to do anything and she just ruts against his hand while he stares at her bc he's so high and the girl he's basically in love with just told him how fertile she was and then started rubbing her incredibly wet pussy against his hand and he feels like he might pass out

they do this and more about once a month for like a year until stevie does actually get pregnant. her stupid uterus successfully tricked her 😔✊

[plistommy]

Eddie lying on his back, face red and eyes wide while Steve’s next to him with a big grin on his face.

”That was amazing, Eds. Let’s do it again!” Steve sighs happily as he snuggles closer to him and all Eddie can get out is a nod because he still hadn’t comprehended that his wet dream had came true and he literally fucked Steve Harrington and cummed inside the man not even three minutes ago.

[scoops-aboy86]

Here, have an au drabble with always-a-girl Stevie Harrington and her boyfriend (husband?) being absolutely roasted by Max and their own dumbassery. Inspired by all the fics where Steddie open condoms with their teeth and a part of me cringes—even though, like, that’s probably accurate to the 80s, idek. 🤦‍♀️

”What?” Stevie says blankly. She resettles the baby in her arms, switching him to her other breast before he makes her feel lopsided—the mouth on this kid, just like his daddy. Who is on the other side of the room, frozen in the doorway with the tray of snacks she’d requested. 

“What?” Max parrots back, nonplussed by Stevie’s confusion. “You didn’t know? You seriously—“ and, fuck, she’s starting to smirk now, the little shit “—really didn’t know?”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, voice cracking and everything. His already big eyes are widened to maximum capacity, fixed on Stevie and their son and her baby bump that’s just starting to show with the next rugrat on the way, because apparently—

“Yes I’m sure,” Max nearly shrieks, lowering her voice just in time that little James doesn’t start fussing. “You’re not supposed to open condom wrappers with your teeth because the latex is right there too! Christ, how are you two considered functioning adults?”

Stevie’s face feels so hot, she’s sure she must look like a tomato right now. A tomato that hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in months and is ‘glowing’ from a morning spent praying out her morning sickness to the porcelain god. And like, don’t get her wrong, she’s happy with her life, she always wanted to be a mom… but neither pregnancy had been exactly planned.

They’d always wrapped up before sex, so it had never occurred to her that she should double up by getting on birth control or something. 

Her eyes meet Eddie’s, and they’re both looking at each other sheepish as hell because holy shit. Holy shit. 

“We can’t ever tell them,” Stevie says. 

“Never,” Eddie agrees faintly, finally approaching with her snacks. (About damn time, she thinks impatiently as she reaches for a pickle, shock and chagrin notwithstanding.) “Robin will never let us hear the end of it. And Dustin—oh my god, can you imagine the lecture? The little shit would bring visual goddamn aids!”

Stevie covers the baby’s ears with the burp cloth she’s going to have to move back to her shoulder in a minute and hisses, “Eds, I meant the babies!”

“Dustin’s kind of like a baby,” Max snickers. “You’ll have to call these ones the twins. Irish twins, y’know? For clarity.”

Meanwhile, “Don’t look at me like that,” Eddie begs Stevie with a wince. “My hand to god, I’ll never try to be sexy again!”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” she shoots back. “When I told you I daydreamed as a kid about having six, I didn’t mean it as a fucking sprint!”

Privately, she doesn’t entirely mean it. Sure, preparing for an infant when already in possession of one is a lot, but she can’t say she’s as put out as everyone keeps expecting her to be about an immediate round two of putting on baby weight. Eddie had been going crazy over her curves during the two minutes or so each week they actually have time and energy to take times for themselves, and personally she’s convinced her tits have never looked better. Still…

“You’re right about Robin and Dustin though,” she admits, turning to Max and steeling herself for negotiations. “How much to keep your mouth shut?”

Permanent tag list:

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

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[stobinesque]

talking could, if we'd just dare (you know that i'll forgive you), pt. 1

@steddie-week day 6: misunderstandings / "You Lookin' at Me Lookin' at You" by Ozzy Osbourne | ~5.5k words | G or T inspired by this post from @inklessletter!

If Eddie was being honest, he’d never actually paid that much attention to Steve Harrington. Sure, it was impossible not to know of him. But for most of his life it had simply been…unimportant, to know about the various goings on of the Class of ‘85’s royal court. Harrington was rich, a bit of a bitch, and kept company with other rich bitches, and so Eddie neatly categorized him with all the other pretty, rich jocks, and went about his day. Life was easier when there was an order to such things. Keep the smalltown, upper-middle class heroes to one side, and the freaks and degenerates to the other, and everyone could live in an uneasy sort of harmony until they walked the stage and left this rathole behind.

Of course, repeating senior year thrice had put a wrench in that plan.

Meanwhile, Dustin Henderson had thrown the whole damn toolbox into the whole not-paying-attention-to-one-Steven-MiddleName-Harrington plan.

And whatever the fuck was going on now had just blown everything out of the water. 

(Or into the water, as the case may be—except the freaky parallel hellscape they’d all dove into seemed to be utterly devoid of the substance, so maybe the original metaphor worked just fine.)

So now he had to contend with the fact that Steve Harrington was a) a pretty nice dude to recent victims of smalltown witch-hunts who had just been thrust into what was apparently a years-long government conspiracy involving monsters and mind-controlling wizards, b) a bit of a dork, c) friends with a whole bunch of dorks, most of whom were four or five years younger than him, d) admirably—though perhaps self-destructively—protective of said dorks, e) just as much of a badass as Henderson claimed, and, most distressingly: f) extremely hot while doing so. 

The being a protective badass part, not all the other ones.

(The other parts Eddie was retroactively filing under “adorable,” and “cute.”)

The expression Steve got on his face when Eddie lobbed his battle vest at him was also priceless, so at that point Eddie figured, fuck it. What did he have to lose from some harmless flirting? The chances of him making it out the other side of this both alive and un-incarcerated were dwindling by the second, and it’s not like he ran any risk of things going anywhere. (Harrington might be a good dude, and alternate dimensions and monsters and superpowers apparently existed, but Steve Harrington being anything other than a straight man with Traditional American Values™ strained credulity—and the Munson Doctrine—far past any acceptable limit.) 

After all, if there was one thing that Eddie had actually learned from D&D, it was that a little bit of flirting and fun could take the sting out of any TPK.

🦇🦇🦇

If Steve was being honest with himself—which he’d been making a concerted effort to try to do since fall of ‘84—he could admit that his…jealousy…of Munson predated Dustin joining Hellfire. His whole climbing-on-cafeteria-tables schtick was kind of obnoxious, sure. But up until he’d wound up flunking his first try at senior year, Eddie'd had this sort of dorky-but-cool aura that Steve wished he was apathetic enough about other people’s opinions to achieve.

For a man who seemed to genuinely believe he was a coward, Eddie Munson was so…loudly and unapologetically himself. In Hawkins, Indiana—a place that quite literally wanted to kill him for how much of a freak he was. And, sure, some of that came down to the whole wanted-for-murder thing. But the man had also spent the better part of the past twelve hours flirting with a former jock—whom Eddie himself admitted to thinking was a douche up until a couple days ago!—so Steve had the sneaking suspicion that there was probably a corner of the town that already had it out for Munson long before Chrissy Cunningham’s body was found in his trailer.

And it wasn’t that Steve wanted to get into metal, or that Dragons game, or start wearing hand-printed t-shirts and attaching his wallet to a chain. He just wished that even after all the years of monsters, and government threats, and Russian torture, he didn’t still feel the need to hold himself to standards set by other people. 

If anyone was a coward, it was Steve.

And there was something kind of…nice—reassuring, even—about the fact that Eddie seemed to feel the same way—but in reverse—about him. Like together maybe they could take the bravest parts of the other and make them their own.

And underneath it all, Steve could admit, was the fact that Eddie was…pretty. 

So. Steve was having a bit of a crisis

“Robin, I’m having a crisis.” 

“We’re all having a crisis, dingus,” she shot back, slapping at his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“No— no, not that.” Steve started emptying one of the bottles of vodka they’d procured into the half-dead grass. “I’m talking about the whole—” Steve waved a hand over towards where Eddie and Dustin were horsing around. “The Eddie thing.”

“Oh, you mean the fact that he’s been blatantly flirting with you since you got eaten by bats?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Robin, I’m talking about the blatant flirting.”

“And…why is that causing a crisis?”

Steve fish-mouthed at her. “B-because…” He leaned forward with a finger held aloft, ready to waggle it in her face. He paused. Frowned. “Well, because…” Steve threw up his hands. “I don’t know! A few days ago the man thought I was a douche. Literally just yesterday he was, like, hot-and-cold trying to throw me at Nancy, while also ogling my chest hair, and now he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and trying to get into my personal space? It doesn’t make sense, Robin!”

“Welcome to the club, buddy.” She raised her brows at him pointedly. And, yeah, that was fair, he guessed.

“And,” He started again, “And– I’ve also got Henderson insisting that I win Nancy back—he does seem to have finally dropped the whole are-you-secretly-dating-Robin thing, though, which—”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Yeah. But, on top of that Nancy has also been making eyes at me, but she’s still with Jonathan so I don’t know what to do about that. And it’s all just a mess, Robs! I’m a mess.”

“Yeah, well, that’s been true for ages, Stevie.”

“Thanks, Robin. That’s very helpful.”

“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to tell me that I’ve got to ‘be myself,’ and put myself out on a limb with Vickie, while you’re out gallivanting with Helen or Jackie or whoever—”

“Heidi—”

“Whatever.” Robin waved her hand dismissively. “My point is: you keep throwing yourself at all of these girls who only know the old you—even if you’re trying to give them the new-and-improved model—and you haven’t even tried to go after a guy, and I think we both know why. And now you’ve hit the jackpot of what every tragic gay teenager in smalltown America can only dream of: you’ve got someone blatantly, and undeniably into you, who you also like back, and you’re telling me that you’re having a crisis? Need I remind you of the tableau we were treated to back at The War Zone?”

Steve sighed. “I know, Robs. You’re right.” Steve jammed a funnel into the neck of the bottle he was working on, and the two of them kept building molotov cocktails in the dying evening light, as Steve tried to reassure Robin that she still had a chance with Vickie—which she did, and Robin took his mind off his own impending disaster. But, if Steve had even a shadow of a chance of getting to hook up with a guy, Robin deserved to have a romance of her own. As much as Robin was afraid to see it, Steve was pretty sure he recognized that conflicted look Vickie’d had in her eyes when she’d spotted Robin in the store. There was something there, he was sure of it.

But maybe Vickie was like him. Maybe she’d only just learned this new thing about herself. Robin—and presumably Eddie—had had at least a couple of years to sit with this knowledge about themselves and come to terms with it. But for Steve (and Vickie?) it was still so scarily and terribly new. With girls, Steve knew how to play the field. He knew what was expected of him—what role he had to fill. But with Eddie a guy, all the rules went out the window; all of his scripts: useless. He’d have to start from scratch, and build something completely different from anything he’d been taught to want or expect before.

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, though. Because Robin was right: they had more important things—end-of-the-world shaped things—to worry about. His love life could wait. Eddie could wait.

They all just needed to make it out of there alive.

🎸🎸🎸

Eddie survived. 

They won.

Eddie survived, and so did everyone else, and they won.

Eddie kept repeating it to himself, because he couldn’t quite believe it. 

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the fact that in the end running away was exactly what he needed to do to make sure they all made it out in one piece—more or less. 

He’d walked right out of hell with nothing more to show for it than a few scratches up his sides, and a ring of bruises ‘round his neck. In the end, Steve was the only person other than Red who needed a hospital stay of any kind, because what would have been manageable wounds on day one, had become life-threatening after days of infection and improper care.

A future in a state penitentiary also seemed to be out of the cards. There was probably nothing any of them could say or do to convince the general Hawkins populace of his innocence, but Dr. Owens and his ilk had crafted a cover story believable enough to win over Powell and Callahan, at least. More to the point, though: all charges had officially been dropped, and the case was closed.

Now there was just the mortifying process of figuring out how to move on. Or at least forward. 

That was the part you didn’t see in movies. No one showed the recovery. Because what was so interesting about watching someone pull their life and body back together? As though healing wasn’t just as much a part of the story as the falling apart.

Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit that it was driving him a bit mad. Because these kids all seemed to be seasoned veterans at it. They hadn't just snapped back to their relatively-easy-going-but-bitchy baselines by any means—Lucas and Dustin especially seemed incredibly subdued in response to the extent of Max's and Steve's injuries, respectively—but they moved around one another with a care and familiarity that spoke to years of experience. 

“How did you do this?” Eddie scrubbed a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots. He and Robin were posted by Steve's bedside—he still spent most of his days semi- to unconscious. And while Eddie didn’t necessarily think it made a whole lot of sense for him to be spending more time at Steve’s bedside than the kids did, Robin was only ever dragged away from him kicking and screaming, and as the newest member of the apocalypse posse above the age of twelve, he was in desperate need of her guidance.

“How’d I do what?” Her typically-raspy voice sounded paper thin, and there were deep, dark circles under both eyes.

“I don’t know—!” Eddie flapped a frantic hand around, like he could manifest words and meaning into being. Something about it made the corners of Robin’s mouth twitch up. “Any of it? You–you dealt with a flesh monster, apparently, and you’re just...walking around on two feet, probably ready to graduate—which is more than I could guarantee for myself—”

“Hey, you will—”

“Not the point, Buckley! The point is, up until this new bout of freaky shit popped into existence, you seemed like you were walking around Hawkins without a care in the world. So how’d you do it? What’s your secret?”

Robin scoffed. “If you think I was walking around without being terrified every day, you either weren’t paying attention, or you’re a lot less smart than I gave you credit for, Munson.”

Eddie grimaced. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not what I meant, I just…you seem like you managed to pull yourself back together—whereas I feel seconds away from total collapse.”

“Yeah, that’s not just a you thing.” Robin twisted one of her rings around her finger. “But you wanna know what kept me upright? It was Steve. I don’t think I would have made it through the last eight months without him. And I know he’s gonna be alright, but I am still terrified that something will happen and he’ll get ripped away from me.”

Eddie frowned. He didn’t think he’d been picking up on those kinds of vibes between Harrington and Buckley, but the way she spoke about him… “Are the two of you, like, a thing?”

Robin barked out a laugh. “No! Not at all. I mean, he is the most important person in my life, and I would both kill and die for him. But, like, in a normal, platonic way.”

“...I’ll take you at your word for the ‘platonic’ part, but there is absolutely nothing normal about what you just said. You two are freaky for each other.”

Robin giggle-snorted, and it scrunched her nose up in a way that filled Eddie with warmth. Despite everything about his…everything, he’d never been short on friends—but it always felt nice to find another one. “Yeah, yeah I guess we are.”

“Mmm…Bobbie? ‘Zat you?” The beeping of Steve’s heart monitor picked up a little speed, and the man in question’s eyelids fluttered open. Robin immediately unraveled from the folded-up position she’d adopted in the hospital chair, and reached out to take his hand into her own. 

“Yeah, Stevie, it’s me.”

Steve squeezed her hand, before his eyes started scanning the room—going wide when they landed on Eddie. “Oh. Eddie.” A light pink flush broke over his face, and he averted his gaze almost as quickly as he met Eddie’s. That kept happening whenever Steve woke up, and Eddie didn’t know what to make of it, but it always left him off-kilter in a way he didn’t want or know how to put a name to. He always took it as his cue to leave.

“Well,” he started, with forced cheer, and a shit-eating grin. He pushed himself up from the chair and dusted off his knees. “I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to catch up,”

“Not lovebirds—” Steve slurred, at the same time Robin exclaimed, “Ew, Munson!”

Eddie just cackled and sauntered off with a jaunty salute.

🦇🦇🦇

Steve felt like he was losing his mind. 

He'd been out of the hospital for a few weeks now, but he almost wished he was back there, because every waking second was just a never ending parade of pain and confusion. 

Fuck, why did almost dying always hurt so much?

The upside of being awake and ambulatory, was that Eddie had finally stopped running out of the room whenever Steve was awake for longer than two seconds. The down side—which was unfortunately directly connected to the aforementioned upside—was that Eddie was being weird.

And, okay, Steve had an admittedly shallow pool of evidence from which to draw his comparisons from. But the fact remained that Eddie’s behavior towards him pre- and post-Vecna-slaying were worlds’ apart. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d tried everything: playing coy, bringing him small gifts, finding excuses to talk to him one-on-one when the rest of the group was gathered together. But none of it seemed to work.

What Steve wanted was to just be able to rock up to the trailer with a bouquet of flowers and ask him out to a night at Enzo’s. But even without the whole recently-wanted-for-murder thing, the two of them going out on what was obviously a date in Hawkins was not only a bad idea, but actively dangerous. And without his typical romance rituals to fall back on, Steve was at a loss as to how to proceed, when the object of his affection was acting so damnably fickle.

“I just don’t get it, Rob. One minute he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and getting all up close and personal, and the next he’s looking like I killed his cat!”

“You have got to stop using other people’s trauma as analogies for your love life, babe.”

Steve waved a hand. “Mrs. Henderson’s not here.”

Robin threw up her hands. “And that makes it okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Fine, whatever.” Robin ruffled her hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just nervous!”

“Nervous! Why would he be nervous?”

“I don’t know, Steve. Why are you nervous?”

“Because I like him, and I don’t want to get hurt again!” Steve shouted, startling himself by the force with which the words came tumbling out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed. “I mean, it’s not just that, though, it’s…” Steve waved a hand into the open air between them. “I don’t know how to do this, you know? If this was a girl, I’d be thinking ‘oh, she’s playing hard to get—’”

“I can’t believe that’s a real thing people do,” Robin deadpanned.

“I mean, sometimes it really is just that they don’t like you—except that then they don’t keep trying to, like, hang out and joke with you—which Eddie does, he’s just hopelessly awkward about it.”

“Steve. Eddie is a hopelessly awkward person. It’s like a defining character trait.”

“Well he wasn’t with me.” Steve wiped a hand over his face and groaned. “I’m just nervous I misread the whole thing, you know? And if I did, and I ask him the wrong thing in the wrong way…what if he doesn’t want to see me again? Like, at all?”

Robin reached out and took his hand. “I hate that you have to know what that feels like,” she said, soft and careful. “But even in the wild event that Eddie is either a: entirely straight, or b: just not into you, I don’t think there’s any version of him that wouldn’t want to talk to you at all. So you should ask him out.”

“Okay, Rob,” Steve sighed. “Only on one condition, though.”

“Oh, no. Ohhhh, no you don’t—”

“You’ve gotta ask out Vickie,” Steve finished, holding out his hand with a smirk.

“Uggggh, fine. Deal.”

🎸🎸🎸

Steve was acting weird.

He’d been acting weird since getting discharged from the hospital—acting all shy and blushy one second, and then turning around and bringing him a new set of dice the next—but it’d really been cranked up to eleven for the past week.

And, look, Eddie knew he was new to the monsters-are-real crew. He knew that in order to make space for him they had to alter whatever their established dynamics were to fit him into them. But that didn’t account for the fact that all of a sudden Steve seemed to be completely unable to string two sentences together in front of him. 

Maybe the two of them weren’t quite friends yet, but he missed the ease with which they’d been able to talk and be honest with each other only a couple of weeks ago. Hell, they’d had more chemistry together down in the Upside Down.

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

Maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe Steve had finally clocked his doomsday-flirting for what it was, and was trying to establish boundaries. Eddie thought he’d pulled back since they'd all crawled out of hell—broken, but alive. As soon as the danger was clear there was no reason to play the bit anymore, right? It’s not like his flirtation attempts had ever been more than a way to liven up what had been an unmitigated shitstain of an experience. Sure, Harrington was pretty, and nice—and there was clearly more to him than met the eye. Eddie had really enjoyed getting to know him over the course of the past few weeks. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, if he was being honest. But it looked like the door was closing on that chance if he didn’t straighten things out.

“Hey, Harrington?”

“I thought I told you to call me Steve, Munson.”

Eddie smiled his ‘malicious compliance’ smile and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking onto his heels as he said. “Alright: Steeeve.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a little smile on his face that belied the general bitchiness of the rest of his demeanor. “What do you want, Eddie?”

Eddie spread his hands out in front of him like he was unfurling a map into the air between them. “Just figured I ought to clear the air.”

Steve frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You know—the whole reason you’ve been all weird around me lately? I figured it’d be best if I put all of my cards on the table.”

The frown dropped off of Steve’s face—replaced by an expression that Eddie couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t…bad? There was no apprehension to be found there. Steve looked almost expectant. Hopeful, maybe. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense—but Harrington didn’t make a whole lot of sense, so maybe Eddie was just misreading whatever he was seeing there. 

“You know it was all just in good fun, right? That it didn’t mean anything?”

The frown returned. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in the Upside Down. You know I was just messing with you, right, man? Just a bit of good ol’ fashioned I’m-about-to-die flirting, you know? Nothing to get all worked up about.” Eddie kept a wide smile fixed in place, tried to really lean into the whole ‘non-threatening gay guy’ vibe—an uphill battle for him, specifically on one of his best days. He’d do jazz hands if it’d help sell the performance any better. But each word out of his mouth felt more like a lie than the one before.

A thin fissure appeared on Steve’s face—a crack that Eddie could almost see through, but not enough to be able to make any sense of what was on the other side. “Oh,” Steve said. His voice was shaking and Eddie couldn’t figure out why. It set off alarms in the part of his brain that was always primed to run at the first sign of danger. “So you’re…not gay?”

Eddie frowned in confusion. Of all the ways he thought Steve might react, that was not one of them. So Eddie forced a laugh, trying to disarm the question. “Oh no, I am a flaming homosexual. I just want to make sure you know that doesn’t mean I’m interested in you.”

The frown slid off of Steve’s face, and the fissure smoothed itself away like it’d never been there. The Steve standing before him was blank-faced as a statue, and it made Eddie want to puke. In all his worrying about Steve being uncomfortable with the idea that Eddie was hitting on him, specifically, he’d entirely forgotten to be worried about Steve being straight up homophobic. At least he wasn’t throwing punches. That was something, right? But Steve was looking at him with such a totalizing coldness behind his eyes that Eddie felt like he’d been left out to sea. 

Steve gave a stiff nod. “Right, of course not,” he said, but the words came out wooden. He threw a thumb over one shoulder and twisted on his heel, back toward the beemer. “I’ll just…I gotta go.”

And then Harrington turned his back to him, and walked away.

Eddie didn’t have a crush on Steve.

So why did it hurt so much to watch him leave?

⛵⛵⛵

Robin sped down the stairs when she heard the banging at the door. There weren’t many people who would bother turning up on her doorstep unannounced. Even fewer who would make such a concerted effort to try to knock it down with the force of their pounding fists.

She swung the door open to find a tear-stained Steve standing before her.

“What happened?” She gasped out. Was it back? It couldn’t be back. El and Will had both sworn on pain of death that it was over. Maybe there was a new horror in town? Maybe Nancy had gone missing? Or Dustin? One of the other kids? Maybe Eddie? 

Steve cut off the racing of her thoughts with a sobbing gasp. “Nothing, Robs.” Somehow, he looked worse than he had after the Russians. His head was hung low, and Robin could swear there was a shadow of phantom-bruising around his eyes. Like he’d been emotionally decked in the face. He took a step forward to come inside at the same moment that she took him by the wrist and yanked him across the threshold.

“What do you need?”

“Bathroom,” was all he said. And then Steve swapped his-wrist-in-hers for her-wrist-in-his and he pulled her further into her own house, toward the second-floor bathroom. When they reached it, Robin plopped down on the floor with her back against the tub while Steve took up his position with his back pressed up against the toilet bowl.

“What happened?” She whispered.

Steve was silent for a long stretch of time. He turned his head to the side, as though he was trying to look out of the small frosted window high up on the wall beside him. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Who? What? What are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve turned back to face her. “Eddie. He doesn’t want me.” Steve no longer sounded sad—he sounded vacant.

Robin’s nose scrunched up like she’d smelled something wrong, because that didn’t make sense. Robin might not be good at clocking other gay people—she wasn’t that good at reading people, period—but it’s not like Eddie’s flirting with Steve had been subtle. And even beyond that, he was always looking at Steve while he was asleep in the hospital bed, in a way that Robin thought meant something… There was just no way that Eddie didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Steve, right? So what had he said to make Steve so certain about that he didn’t? “How d’you know that?”

Steve laughed, half-hysterical, as he tipped his head back onto the lid of the toilet. “He said it didn’t mean anything—the flirting.” Steve wiped a hand clear across the length of his face—chin to forehead—before digging his fingers into his hair. He laughed again. Or—it was more a puff of air, than anything else. And there was definitely no humor behind it. Just a bitter kind of resignation. “And then—he said—he told me he was gay, but that he just wanted me to know that it doesn’t mean he’s interested in me.” Steve covered his face with both hands and let out a broken sob. “God, he and Nance should compare notes.”

Robin could feel the lines carving an angry space between her eyebrows, and a fire in her heart. How dare he? Maybe Robin had misread Eddie's whole vibe toward Steve—but how dare he just trample all over and discard his heart like that? It didn’t make sense—but it was happening, and she had to fix it, because no one was allowed to break her other half. 

“Hey Stevie?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Yeah?”

“Where do you keep your little nail bat nowadays?”

🎸🎸🎸

Let it not be said that Eddie Munson didn’t know how to pull off a top-tier wallow. Ozzy’s pleading vocals were pouring out the speakers, while Eddie was laid star-fished out on the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers, and torturing himself with the memory of Steve Harrington biting into the tail of a hell-bat.

Is it me or is it you?

Things are so much different now

But nothing lasts forever

He really should have known that whatever kind of rapport he and Harrington had going was too good to be true. Once a rich dickhead jock, always a rich dickhead jock, right? He almost felt bad thinking that. But what else was he supposed to think? The second Steve Harrinton had found out he was gay he’d turned his back on him. That was pretty cut and dry.

A loud banging at the trailer door cut through his thoughts and over the sound of Ozzy singing looks and glances can't repair, talking could if we'd just dare.

Eddie had half a mind to just ignore it, but there were even odds that it was one of the UD Crew as it was a member of Hawkins’ resident angry mob. So Eddie peeled himself off the bed, leaving Ozzy blaring behind him, and yanked open the door. “What—?” He started, but came up short when he registered an absolutely livid Robin Buckley staring back at him.

Eddie hadn’t thought to take into consideration the idea that the person at the door might be a UD Crew member taking up the role of angry mob members. But Robin Buckley was standing on his stoop looking half-ready to commit a murder. The second the door was open, she shoved past him and into the trailer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?”

“Wh-what are you talking about, Buckley?” Covering his face with a piece of hair wasn’t enough—he wanted to melt into the floor. Had Steve really sent Robin to beat him up for being gay? That was some next level gymnastics in avoiding making physical contact with another man so that you don't seem gay.

Robin yanked at her hair and started pacing around the common area, glaring daggers into the floor (but thankfully not at him). “What am I talking about, he asks! You really are a medical grade idiot, aren’t you?”

“I—”

“No, shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Robin abruptly swung around on her heel to rush at him and jab a finger into his chest. “You broke Steve’s heart. And I don’t care if you were never into him—because I know that you can’t help who you like, or love—but you had no right to be so fucking cruel about it!”

A penny dropped.

“Robin. What are you talking about?”

Steve was heartbroken? That didn’t make any sense. He should have been relieved, he should have—

Robin laughed, hysterical, and threw her hands into the air. “I am talking about the fact that you told my best friend who has been pining over you for fucking weeks that all of the very obvious flirting you’ve been doing ‘didn’t mean anything,’ and that you just had to let him know that you weren’t interested in him specifically.” Robin paused to take a deep breath and kept barreling on. “And I get not wanting to lead someone on, Eddie—but even I know that was the least tactful way you could have gone about letting him down.”

Eddie shook his head, backing up toward the nearest wall like a cornered animal, because what Robin was saying didn’t make any sense. “I— I don’t—I mean, I do like him. I thought he didn’t like me! I thought he was straight!”

That brought Robin up short. Her shoulders remained set into a tense line, and her brow was still furrowed in distrust, but some of the unrelenting ire slipped away. “You didn’t—? Did he not—? What the fuck, Stevie!” The last part Robin muttered under her breath.

“Did he not, what, Buckley?”

“He didn’t ask you out?”

“No. What? Was he planning to?”

“Yes, numb nuts! Steve’s been trying to ask you out for weeks! I mean I guess mostly this past week—but that’s because before then he’d just been trying to beam the knowledge directly into your head through your thick skull.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie’s heart dropped into his stomach as the full ramifications of what he’d said caught up to him.

“Yeah, ‘oh, shit,’ Munson.”

“Buckley—” Eddie rushed over to clap both of his hands onto Robin’s shoulders. “Robin. I’ve gotta fix this.”

Robin rolled her eyes. They were still creased at the corners, but the rest of her seemed to have softened a bit. “Yeah, you do,” she said—all low and serious. “You’re gonna have to fucking grovel.”

Eddie nodded. “Can you help me?”

Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But let me make one thing fucking clear, Munson: I am doing this for Steve, not you, capiche? You put one toe out of line and I’ll go to the Wheeler house and grab one of Nancy’s guns.”

Eddie held up his hands in placating surrender. “Message received, loud and clear.”

Robin nodded, satisfied.

Eddie grinned back. “Let’s go get my man.”

there is now a part two!

[figthefruitfaeth]

radio host!eddie munson out with a new billboard. steve, recently heartbroken, calls in as a sub (sad boy) looking for a dom (depressed man) on live radio and eddie? loses it

[catharusustulatus]

Steve runs hot and Eddie is always cold, but Eddie is the sun and Steve is the moon. Steve exercises every morning to keep in shape and Eddie can eat whatever he wants and not gain weight. Steve loves to make big romantic breakfasts and Eddie is barely hungry until 2 pm. Steve is horrible at board games but competitive and Eddie is laid back and always wins. Steve cooks full meals when he’s hungry and Eddie eats a bell pepper like an apple. Steve loves to sit on his roof and look at the stars and Eddie loves to sit on Steve’s roof and look at Steve.

[flowercrowngods]

man some of y’all are really out here doing fandom events like #SteddieLoveMonth and writing fic every day just busting out that quality content for free and providing us with love and care and safety and spice and just a free load of emotions while life is genuinely crazy out there like fuck me some of y’all are really out here writing thousands of words and preserving a little humanity in your creations of love it’s so awe inspiring and i think more of y’all need to feel (and share!!) some of this insane gratitude and awe

[youmakemyhearthowl]

The first time Steve went with Robin to a gay bar in Indy, he got a lot of education on the queer community from a group of Drag Queens. They were so pleased to run into a straight man at a gay bar that was there to protect his lesbian best friend that they answered all of his questions he’d asked. Even if a few of them were pretty convinced Steve was some sort of queer and just hadn’t gotten around to figuring it out yet. 

The biggest thing that seemed to stand out to Steve was the hanky code. It was such a cool way to let yourself share this super secret part of yourself with the world without the dangers that actually sharing it would cause and Steve was enamored. 

One particular Drag Queen, Helen, knows most of what the different colors mean and Steve can’t stop himself from asking about every single one of them.

When they get back to Hawkins Steve feels truly educated and Robin just smirks knowingly at him as he rambles on about everything he learned. He’d told Robin a few weeks ago he thought he might also like guys but was still figuring everything out. Robin was just happy he was willing to learn, even if he decided men weren’t for him. 

Everything sort of spirals quickly after that. 

Steve and Robin are at work when Dustin comes barreling into the store with Eddie Munson in tow. 

“We need Rocky Horror Picture show right now.” The demand is sharp, and Steve just rolls his eyes at the teen.

“Not that I’m judging or anything Dust, but what do -you- need with that movie?” Robins voice cuts across the store from where she’s restocking returns in the romance section. 

“We have a theory about Mike we want to test.”

“You have a theory about Mike you want to test.” Eddie cuts in hoping up onto the counter and crossing one leg under him. Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a second. Because right there in his left pocket is that stupid black hanky that Steve never really paid attention to before, but now his eyes lock on.

“Steve!” Robins next to him now shoving him out of the way of the register so she can check out Dustin, and Steve’s still just kind of frozen in place because, Munson’s into some kinky shit and he’s not entirely sure how to bring his brain back from the rabbit hole it’s just dove down.

“Stevie, are you still coming over for movie night with me and Buck?” Eddie chirped climbing down off the table to follow Dustin out the door. Robin looked from Eddie to Steve, trying to figure out what exactly broke her best friend, when her eyes land on the hanky and she has to hide her laugh with a cough.

“Yea, he’s coming. He’s my ride anyways. We’ll see you at 8 Eddie.” With a nod and a questioning glance in Steve’s direction Eddie throws open the front doors and skips to his van as Dustin clamors into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dingus.” Robin slides in front of Steve, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. “Learn anything new just now?”

“Holy shit Robin, how am I ever even supposed to -look- at him again.” He groans throwing his head down onto his crossed arms on the counter.

“He’s still stupid Eddie.”

“Stupid Eddie who likes to tie people up and administer pain in the bed room. Fuck.” Robin could see all kinds of gears turning in Steve’s head. Dots connecting, pieces falling into place until suddenly his face turns bright red and he stands up straight again locking fearful eyes with Robin.

“Oh my god Robin. I think I wanna fuck Eddie Munson.”

Robins laughter was so loud, Eddie could hear it all the way in the parking lot.

(inspired by @undeaddisillusion ‘s post found here)

[strangersteddierthings]

I was gonna write myself a birthday one shot but the world is against me today so have the teaser version I put in the discord chat instead.

Season 4 AU time travel fic where Steve gets thrown back to the moment in family video when Dustin and Max show up demanding the phones. Previously he was 5 years into a grueling apocalypse.

Steve immediately just bolts to the phone in Keith's office and rats Eddie's location out to the police. If the police throw him in a cell and THEN Fred dies, they won't have much to hold Eddie on.

He'll let Vecna kill Patrick, too, if it clears Eddie's name.

I'll write and post eventually but that day is not today.

[dreamofbecoming]

here we are at last! there have been a bunch of posts lately about how neither eddie nor robin have any gaydar to speak of, but steve canonically does, and also vickie definitely left fast times paused on purpose as a flag, and frankly all of you are just so objectively True and Correct that i had no choice but to write about it. parts 1 and 2 not strictly necessary for context but definitely set in the same universe

part 1 part 2 ao3

platonic stobin, rockie, steddie

rating: t

wc: 8.4k (holy fuck it got away from me)

---

Robbie isn't drunk yet, but she's getting there.

Honestly, Steve should probably slow her down, but what the hell. They're celebrating, after all. He'll cut her off in a bit, but she deserves to have some fun. They all do.

It's been three weeks since Eddie got out of the hospital, one since he was finally let off bedrest. Or, not exactly bedrest, but enough restrictions that he was basically confined to the trailer (brand new, courtesy of Owens and his goons), and from the way he complained the whole time you'd think they had him chained to the bedposts.

Hm. Maybe thinking of Eddie chained to bedposts isn't the best use of Steve's time. Not here, anyway. That's a Later activity.

It's the first house party any of them have been invited to since Spring Break, thrown by one of Robin's band friends. None of them planned on going, except that two days ago a frantic call came over the All Hands channel on the walkie that El had finally broken through, Max was awake, and the doctors thought her arms and legs would eventually, almost, make a full recovery, granted with lots of physical therapy.

Apparently the only useful thing Vecna ever did was break her bones at right angles so they could set them cleanly. Her vision will probably never fully return, but she's alive. She's alive, and she's awake, and she's apparently being a complete menace to the nurses, which is more comforting to Steve than any of the rest of it, so how could they ask for anything else?

Steve still feels like he's taking his first real breath after drowning every time he inhales. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling this relief. It's so sharp it's almost painful.

So they're at this party, and they're celebrating. There's a real celebration planned, of course, with the whole Party and assorted extras, Murray (ugh) and Jonathan's California friend (who seems nice), Joyce and Hopper (and isn't that a trip) and Eddie and Wayne (Eddie read him in immediately, to no one's surprise) and everyone else. They've got plans to descend on Steve's house as soon as Max is allowed out of the hospital, where they'll presumably trash his mother's nice white carpets and eat through his snacks like locusts and enrage his neighbors with their shrieking in the pool. Hopper and Wayne will fight over who gets to work the grill until Joyce gets fed up and takes over and Eddie will commandeer the sound system and Robin will laugh at Steve for frantically switching between Host Mode and Lifeguard Mode until she finds someone big enough to sit on him and make him eat something. He can't wait.

But for now, they're at this party, and they're celebrating. With someone else's alcohol, which is a nice treat for Steve.

He's leaning against the wall by the kitchen doorway, sipping something Robin made him that tastes like paint thinner and looks like undiluted red food dye. He's surprised it hasn't eaten through the bottom of the cup like that green gunk from the elevator. He doesn't quite feel like joining the crush of people in the living room. He's felt a little off since Spring Break, a little lost inside his head. He knows Robin can tell, but she hasn't pushed him, other than dragging him here tonight. He's so grateful for her he thinks he could cry.

He doesn't, though, he just watches her from the kitchen doorway, squished on a couch between Vickie and who he thinks might be one of Eddie's bandmates. He recognizes him from those nights he would pick the kids up from Hellfire at the school, and also from Eddie's hospital room. He's got fluffy hair and a flannel shirt around his waist. Gary, maybe? Garth? Steve's not sure. He'd introduce himself and find out for sure, but apparently, carrying Eddie's bleeding not-quite-corpse on his back into the hospital and throwing around his father's name until someone agreed to treat him before collapsing in the lobby from his own injuries wasn't quite enough to erase the contempt for King Steve, so Steve's been mostly avoiding those guys. Eddie swears he's working on it. Steve...should maybe care more than it feels like he does. He thinks maybe a lot of things should feel more...more, than they do. But that's a problem for Later Steve. It's fine. He's fine. He's handling it.

He watches Robin, and she's laughing, and she's not quite drunk yet, and he's glad for her. This is what he wanted. This is what he wished for, on that flipped over bucket, in that field. That they'd all get through it. That they'd all get to keep smiling and doing stupid teenager shit. He maybe wishes he felt a little more like someone who wanted to do stupid teenager shit and a little less like someone watching his friends have fun from behind a plate-glass window, but he'll take it. Whatever he can get, he'll take it.

He looks back at Robin, and, huh. She's still laughing, but now she's between Eddie and Maybe-Gary-Maybe-Garth. He follows Robin's less-than-subtle (crimeny, this girl, he's gotta teach her a goddamn poker face) longing gaze and sees a flash of red heading for the back door.

This feels like a chance to do something useful. Robin will be ok, Eddie will keep an eye on her.

He follows Vickie out the back door. He finds her leaned against the back of the house, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She's smiling. She really is pretty, Steve can see why Robin likes her. God, he hopes he's right about her. Either way, he's determined to find out. It's what Robin deserves.

"Hey, Vickie. Come out for some fresh air?"

Her smile gets bigger when she turns to him. He really hopes he's right about her, she's a fucking sweetheart. He hopes he isn't about to do something hugely stupid. Knowing him, he probably is, but also knowing him, he's gonna do it anyway.

"Hey Steve! Yeah, I was just getting a little warm in there. How about you? Smoke break?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. Robin hates them, she keeps stealing them out of my mouth, so it's somehow more expensive and I don't even get to smoke them. Easier to just stop. Which is probably her goal," he laughs.

"You and Robin are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh yeah, platonic soulmates. With a capital P!" He makes an incredibly dorky gesture with his hands, and has to stop himself from facepalming. Great going, dingus.

Still, Vickie's smile gets a little wider, which he thinks is probably a win.

"That's why I came out here, actually. I wanted a chance to talk to you." Her eyebrows go up. Always with the goddamn eyebrows around here. "Not, like, in a creepy way! Or, well, I guess that's what a creep would say, but I swear I'm not! I just meant, because Robin really likes you," shit, too much, "I mean, she likes hanging out with you, and she's my best friend and all, so I wanted to. Um. Get to know you better. You know. For Robin."

"...For Robin."

He groans. "I swear I didn't used to be like this. I used to be able to talk like a normal person. I didn't know that was a skill you could lose! I would have worked harder at it!" She's laughing at him now, but at least she's polite enough to hide her giggles behind her hand. That's something.

He sighs, and throws his head back to take a deep breath and try and come back to his body, like Robin showed him. Having therapist parents sounds like a nightmare to Steve, but it has its uses, he guesses.

He looks back at Vickie, who is watching him with what seems like more amusement than concern, so he's taking that as a win. If she's laughing, she's not running away. He sticks his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You're really important to the most important person in my life, so I'd really like to be your friend." He tries to give her his most winning smile, but honestly he's a little worried his teeth are still red from that godawful drink.

She grins at him, still definitely laughing at him a little but more genuine than before, and shakes his hand. "I'm Vickie, and you're really important to someone I hope will become really important to me, so I'd love to be your friend."

He doesn't breathe a sigh of relief, but it's a close thing. King Steve decided to stay in tonight, apparently, so he's on his own, and boy oh boy is he worse than he remembered.

"So, new friend, what do you want to get to know about me?"

Thank fuck Vickie's carrying so much of the weight here, honestly.

"We could, uh, talk about movies?" Jesus Christ, where did all the goddamn Harrington Charm go, anyway? Did Vecna eat it?!

There go the eyebrows again. He's cursed, he really is. "Movies?"

"Yeah, you know, I work at a movie store. Or I did, anyway. With Robbie. Pretty sure it went under in the quake though. That or Keith just fired us and didn't bother calling to let us know." He laughs awkwardly. He's doing fucking everything awkwardly, honestly. He hasn't even asked the question yet and he's already sweating bullets. No wonder Bobbie was so scared to confront this head-on. "Anyway, it can tell you a lot about a person, you know. Their favorite movie."

Come on, take the bait. Take it.

She nods seriously at him. "Oh I get that for sure, you can learn a lot about someone by their favorite book. I used to volunteer at the library and there was always gossip about who checked out what romance novel and whether that meant their marriage was on the rocks, you know?" She giggles, hiding behind her hand for a second. "I guess it was kind of mean, but we never said anything to anyone outside the library, and never to their face, you know? It was just something to keep us entertained on slow days."

Fantastic, he can work with this.

"Oh totally, I completely get it. Robs and I did the same thing at Family Video, making up stories about what we imagined people's lives were like that they were renting Casablanca and Gremlins on the same night, you know? Like, what does that evening look like? Which one do they watch first?"

She laughs. Perfect. She took the bait, now he's just gotta reel her in. Or something. He's never been fishing.

"You know, I usually rent my movies from Family Video. Did you guys ever look up my rental history?"

Aaaand, got her!

"You know, I think we did, actually, not that I'm helping the creep allegations," he winks at her. She slaps him on the shoulder. There we go, there's the Harrington Charm. Jesus fuck, where has it been all night? Sleeping?

Moment of truth, here we go.

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High, right?" He keeps his eyes on her face while he says it. He needs to see how she reacts.

She's been watching a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash, but as soon as he mentions the movie, she whips her head around and looks at him sharply.

She studies his face intently in the glow from the floodlights above the garage. Whatever she finds, the fear in her eyes fades just slightly to caution. All good signs.

Fuck, this is harder than he remembers. Talking in code and reading all the subtle little shifts in body language involved in this conversation is stretching muscles in his brain he's forgotten he had. His friends these days all just sort of...say whatever they mean, straight out. He thought it was weird and off-putting at first, but now that he's doing this dance again, he's realizing he hasn't missed it.

The things he does for Robin, honestly.

He can see the moment she decides to trust him, even though she's still tense. She takes a deep breath, like she's gearing up for something. "That's a good one, for sure. You know, I think I maybe forgot to rewind it the last time I returned it? I paused it at my favorite part, but I think I got distracted and never finished it. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble for you guys at your job. I'd hate to be one of those customers."

Jesus, this chick is brave. She's basically just coming right out and saying it! Holy shit, he's about to get Robbie a girlfriend! Ok, ok be cool. Bring it home, nice and easy.

"Nah, not a problem at all. Besides, I think I remember that tape, and we have the same favorite part, I think. All three of us." Fuck he hopes this isn't a mistake. If he just fucked up and outed Robin for no reason he'll- fuck, he doesn't know what he'll do. Ask El to open the gate back up so he can throw himself into it, probably.

Vickie's eyes go wide. "Robin too?" There's something like hope in her voice. He thinks. He hopes, anyway. Maybe he's just projecting, but he really thinks he's been right on the money from the start. He just needs to prove it to Rob and give them both a push.

"Yeah, Robin too. Now me, I like Fast Times a lot, but I also really like The Outsiders, you know?" A truth for a truth. Nothing is free, he remembers this dance. Trust is always earned.

He didn't realize her eyes could get any bigger, but somehow they do. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Really? Uh, me too! Those are...both...really good movies, you know?"

"Totally!" He's grinning now too, he can't help it. He's so excited for Robbie he might explode. This is the most alive he's felt in weeks!

"Not Rob, though, she loves Fast Times, but not so much The Outsiders. She can be, uh. Pretty nervous, you know? To talk about her taste in movies. I think she might be worried you don't like Fast Times as much as she does, but I know she really wants to, uh, watch it with you. So you might have to be the one to, you know, tell her how much you like it, and maybe ask her to watch it together?"

He's getting lost in the metaphor here. That's clear enough, right? Robbie isn't going to believe him about Vickie liking boobies unless she walks up to her and tells her "I like women, go out with me," in very small words, so he really hopes he got the message across. He needs Vickie to take the wheel on this.

Luckily Vickie is nodding enthusiastically. "For sure! I can do that!" She's halfway back to the house, almost tripping over her feet, before she looks back at him sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me, I just got so excited and I wanted to-"

"Hey, no worries, that was the goal, right? This is what I was hoping for when I came out here to talk to you. She, uh..." He shouldn't. He should stick to the code, just in case, he should be careful, it's Robbie's life on the line here.

But it's also her happiness.

"She didn't believe me. About the Fast Times thing. And then we ran into you at The War Zone, and she was totally convinced I was wrong, but I knew I had to ask. Just in case. I just really want her to be happy, you know?" There. He hasn't actually said the words. If it goes sideways, they still have plausible deniability.

And then, well. There's always Plan B. He doesn't exactly want to burn Vickie's house down, but he will. For Robin, he'll do anything.

Vickie is smiling softly at him. She really is sweet, she and Bobbie are gonna be so cute together. He can't wait to tease them into oblivion.

"I'm glad she has a friend like you, Steve."

He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, you know. You've got a friend like me, now, too, right?"

There's that bright smile again. "Right!"

"Alright, go on. Go get your girl."

Good lord, redheads sure can blush, huh?

He waits a couple of minutes before heading back in himself, enjoying the night air. It's not quite the height of summer yet, so the evenings aren't as muggy as they'll be in a month or so. For the first time since he crawled out of that gate with Eddie lashed to his back with the remains of the rope ladder he cut to protect Dustin, he's feeling the breeze on his skin without feeling like he's wrapped in plastic, like there's a wall around him, keeping from being part of the world. He wants to savor it, in case it goes away again.

When he does make his way back in, he almost trips over Robin, who's grabbing what should probably be her last drink. At least it's just a beer this time, if it was more of that awful concoction from earlier he'd probably take it away from her, pouting be damned. They could have flambéed Vecna with that shit, nobody should be putting it in their bodies.

Her face lights up when she notices him, and she flings herself into his arms.

"Oof, shit, Buckley, doing ok there? You having fun?"

"Sooooo much fun, Stevie!" She nuzzles her face into the crook of his shoulder. Yeah, if she's this cuddly in public, this should definitely be her last drink, especially if Vickie wants to make any kind of move tonight. She's not usually this touchy outside of the really bad nightmare nights. "Missed you though. Where'd you go? My bubba disappeared."

"Aw, Bobs, I was just outside getting some air, I promise. I didn't go anywhere."

She shakes her head stubbornly, her nose dragging along his collarbone. "Noooo, you left. Not now, before. After. In the hospital. We all came back but you left. You went inside your big stupid fluffy head and you don't come out anymore. I miss you."

It's a good thing Robin's face is still hidden in his shoulder, because he can't quite keep his expression from crumpling. He hasn't meant to hurt her, he hasn't meant to hurt anyone, he swears. He's trying, he wants to come back, wants to be normal again, he just...he feels like part of him is still stuck at the bottom of Lover's Lake, watching everyone above him on the surface moving on and living life, but not able to reach them.

He holds her tighter to his chest, petting her hair. It's a mess, like when she first wakes up in the morning. Maybe she fell off the couch or something while he was outside.

"I'm sorry, Bobbin-bird. I didn't mean to go away. I'm working on it, ok? I promise," he murmurs reassurances into her hair, trying to erase the sadness he can hear in her slurred words. He's shit at talking about feelings, especially his own, but not with Robin. Never with Robin. Saying true things to Robin isn't any harder than thinking them to himself, and honestly that's basically the same thing. They pretty much only have the one brain between them.

She pulls back, studying his face closely with bleary eyes, squeezing his cheeks between her hands. "Promise?"

"I promise, Bobbie." He tries to project as much sincerity as he can muster. She's edging past tipsy, but not actually drunk yet, so she should remember this moment just fine tomorrow, and he won't have to do it again.

Who he is kidding? They're definitely having this conversation again tomorrow. Maybe he can distract her with teasing about Vickie. Where did she go, anyway?

Robin grins, apparently satisfied for now. "Good!" She smacks a kiss to his forehead and finally lets go of his face. Thank god. He loves her, more than anything in the world, but she's a goddamned sweaty drunk.

Before she can say anything else, a redheaded streak comes stumbling into the kitchen.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Vickie leans on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath.

Steve looks to Robin to see how she'll respond, and, oh. Well, shit. Robin is...frozen, apparently. She's very obviously focused on Vickie, which is good, because otherwise Steve would be having trouble with flashing back to Nancy's thousand-yard stare in the Upside Down, or the whites of Max's eyes, but the part of her brain that lets her, you know, say and do things, appears to have shut down.

Looks like it's Steve's turn with the communal brain, lucky him. Time to step in and save this, if he can.

"Vickie! Hi, you know, I was just wondering where you ran off to? I was about to tell Robin to track you down, to talk about that movie we talked about earlier, but it looks like you found us instead!" He jams an elbow into Robin's side as subtly as he can, but she still doesn't move.

Vickie is looking between them, still breathing a little heavy. "Yeah, I went looking for you as soon as I came back in, but Gareth said-" Gareth! That was it! "-you went to the bathroom, and did you know there are six bathrooms in this house? Who needs that many bathrooms? I think Angela only has one sibling, why would anyone need six bathrooms for four people? That's so crazy! Anyway, I'm glad I found you, Robin. I'm, uh, getting a little overwhelmed with all the people out here, so I was hoping you might want to find a room that's maybe a little quieter, so we can talk a bit? Just the two of us?" Damn, this girl's got guts. Steve likes her.

Robin continues to stand in front of the fridge like the world's prettiest scarecrow. Come on, babygirl, you can do this! He elbows her again.

"Vickie! Hi! Steve, Vickie's here! Hi!" Steve and Vickie both startle a little because, wow, ok, volume, Buckley, damn. Still. Progress.

"Sure is, babe. Tell you what, why don't I take this-" he plucks the unopened beer out of her slack hand, "-and you and Vickie can go sit down somewhere quiet and talk about movies, huh?"

Robin blinks at him owlishly. "Movies?"

He's about to make another veiled reference to the boobies conversation when Vickie blows all of her air out of her nose and stomps one foot like that one girl in the Chocolate Factory movie who reminds him of his cousin Shauna.

"I'm sorry, I can't take it! I just spent ten minutes outside talking to Steve in ridiculous codes and another ten minutes running up and down the stairs in this insane house and I'm exhausted. I can't take the metaphors anymore. Sorry, Steve, no offense."

"Hey, none taken. It's pretty exhausting, you're not wrong. I just had to be safe."

She shakes her head. "No, totally, I completely understand. I appreciate it. I'm just secret coded-out tonight, you know? Robin, do you want to go upstairs with me and talk? I have something to ask you and I'd really rather do it in private, I don't really want any of these people listening, you know?" She waves her hand at the open doorway to the living room, which is still packed with people.

Robbie's head has been bouncing back and forth between them like she's watching a tennis match, eyes wide.

"Huh? Me? What?"

Oh geez. She's shorting out.

"Bobbie, look at me." She meets his eye, and he can see the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. "Trust me?"

She nods. "Uh huh. 'Course, bubba."

Well that warms him right up, but it's not about him right now. "Good. Go with Vickie, babe. It'll be good, I promise." He hopes he can promise that, at least. He's pretty sure he can. And if it goes bad, they always have Plan B.

Vickie holds out a hand, and Robin stares at her like it might bite her, before taking it gingerly. Both girls immediately burst into bright red blushes, and under any other circumstance he would laugh at them, but this is a delicate moment. They need him to be cool. He can be cool. He can be so goddamn cool.

Vickie leads Robin out of the room and towards the stairs, both of them still blushing like crazy and refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Steve can finally let out the breath he's been holding in a whoosh and slump back against the counter. He snags a bottle opener off the fridge- neat, it's got a magnet on it!- and pops the top on the beer he stole off Robbie.

“Well I hate to break this to you, King Steve, but she’s definitely about to steal your girl.”

Steve freezes with the bottle at his lips.

He sets the beer down on the counter and very carefully turns around. Munson is alone, thank fuck. This is fixable. He can deal with a single person. If it had been a crowd, or fuck, god forbid, someone like Gareth, who hates him, and might try and use this? Hurt Robbie to hurt him? Well, he's got his nailbat in the trunk, and he isn't afraid to use it, but he doesn't think Hopper would be thrilled to have to bail him out of jail.

"Whatever you think you heard, Munson, if Robbie gets hurt, it won't matter that you're one of us now. I'll finish what those bats started. I won't be happy about it, because you're a pretty cool dude and I like hanging out with you, but I'll do it for her if you make me." He makes sure his voice is low and even, and he meets Eddie's eyes head on. He wants to be very clear, this is not a joke. He will defend her if he has to.

He doesn't think he'll have to, not from Munson, but he isn't 100% sure, and he's taken enough risks with Robbie's safety tonight. He doesn't trust his luck enough to count on it working out a second time in less than an hour.

Munson's eyes go wide with shock- he clearly wasn't expecting Steve to meet him with quite that much aggression. He puts his hands up in surrender and leans back away from Steve.

Steve fights not to be distracted by the way his torso curves, graceful in a way he has no right to be with his wounds still scabbing over. Not the moment, Steve. Get it together, for fuck's sake.

"Hey, whoa, easy big guy. We're cool, man. Stand down."

There's a tense moment where they just...stand there, sizing each other up, unsure where to go from here.

Eddie tugs a lock of hair in front of his face, nibbling on it nervously. It's cuter than it has any right to be, honestly.

"I didn't- uh. Fuck, man. Please tell me I didn't just tip you off to flirting you didn't notice. It would suck so, so bad if I exposed Birdie without her knowing."

Steve takes a moment to consider this, frankly absurd, situation. He holds up a finger for Eddie to wait a minute, and checks both ways down the hallway outside before closing the kitchen door and leaning back against it to keep it shut. At least now it'll definitely just be the two of them, which is one more than should be having this conversation, but he doesn't see a way out of it, so this will have to do.

When he turns back to Eddie, he looks even more nervous than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of the flirting, considering I'm the one who went out of my way to set them up tonight. You didn't out anyone, and I should have been the one to make sure the door was closed before I got them in a room together, so it's not your fault for finding out. You understand you can't say anything to anyone, ever, though, right?"

Because he's apparently doomed to be accosted with eyebrow raises from everyone around him anytime he says anything at all until he dies, Eddie's are lost somewhere under his bangs. He looks...impressed. Huh, that's kind of nice. Steve resists the urge to preen.

"'Course, man, I'm well-versed in the code of silence." Something in his face softens, and Steve can feel the sincerity in his next words. "Birdie's a friend, and Finnegan seems like a real sweetie, I wouldn't ever want to hurt them like that. Cross my heart." He does, in fact, draw a cross on his chest with one long, ringed finger. What a dork, holy shit. Steve wants to put that finger in his mouth.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so cool with something like that. In general, but also especially since you and Buckley are, y'know." He waves his hand expansively around his head, the kitchen lights glinting off his rings, and Steve has to fight the urge to bat at it like a cat with a laser pointer. Jesus Christ, Harrington, focus. The man just called you a homophobe, get your shit together.

He decides, very magnanimously, he thinks, to ignore the homophobe bit, honing in on the rest. "Me and her are...what, exactly?"

"I mean, aren't you guys like, a thing?" Oh Jesus fuck. Not again.

"Ugh, no, where the hell do people keep getting that? Robin and I are just friends, ok? Platonic soulmates. Capital P!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

"-capital P," Eddie choruses with him, "I know, I know, I just, shit, man, I dunno, I figured you were..."

"Were what?"

"...Lying? Shit, that sounds worse out loud, sorry! I just mean, because, you know, Henderson keeps saying-"

"Oh, well if Henderson says it, it must be true," Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well fuck me for trusting the kid who calls you his best friend, I guess!"

They glare at each other across the room for a minute, before the ridiculousness of this moment catches up to Steve and he drops his chin to his chest, huffing a laugh.

Eddie looks confused, and still nervous, and a little incredulous. Also a lot adorable, but that doesn't feel relevant. "Ok, I'm so lost, man. I just came in here for a beer, and this has been an emotional rollercoaster I was unprepared for."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

He hasn't spent much time with Eddie since he woke up, spending those weeks juggling babysitting duties and his own injuries and helping with the relief effort and sitting vigil at Max's side. He popped in on Eddie when he was in the building for Max, but the Munson room always had someone in it- Wayne, or Dustin, or Mike, or one of the Corroded Coffin guys- and Steve always felt a bit like an intruder. So he hasn't had a chance to feel out the suspicions he formed during that surreal week when everything was still in the process of exploding, and honestly he's been feeling a little too distant to work up the energy to bother. Robin's bugged him about it once or twice since March, but he shrugged her off each time and she hasn't brought it up in a while.

Ah, what the hell. It's already been such a weird night, and Steve is honestly feeling better than he has in weeks, and he wants to ride this high wherever it'll take him.

Emotional rollercoaster, huh? Well, Steve can make that worse.

At least Eddie hasn't seemed homophobic, kind of the opposite, actually. That's a good sign if Steve's ever seen one.

He pushes off the door, stalking toward Eddie with intent and digging deep inside himself for whatever remains of the person he used to be, who could drop panties with a single look. Eddie's eyes go very round, and he stumbles back a little into the counter.

"You know, Munson, I've had a question I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. Haven't found a good moment."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie's voice comes out in what can only be called a squeak, and Steve feels powerful. That rush of confidence he hasn't felt since BN (Before Nancy) fills his chest, and he can feel his grin turn sharp. "Ho- uh." Eddie clears his throat. "How long's a while?"

Steve purses his lips, relishing the way Eddie's eyes drop down like he can't help it and his cheeks flush, and pretends to consider the question. "Oh, since Skull Rock, probably."

"O-oh? That's. Um. That is a long time." He's still staring at Steve's lips. Good. "Well, shoot, Stevie-boy. Ask away."

Steve lets his smile spread across his face slowly, keeping Eddie's eyes where he wants them. Yeah, he's still got it. Like riding a bike.

"Do you wear this bandana on purpose, or is it just a fashion statement?"

Eddie's eyes snap up to meet his own, shocked.

"Wh-what? Bandana? I. Um. What?"

"Are you flagging, Eddie?" Steve doesn't back up, toe to toe with Eddie as he reaches out and tugs lightly on the hanky trailing out of his back pocket, as always.

He may not have had the energy to talk to Eddie about it yet, but his curiosity did get the better of him after the "earthquakes," and he did dig out that zine where he originally learned about the code. He knows what a black hanky in the back left pocket means now. It's...a little daunting, but not a turn-off. Not at all. Kind of the other thing.

God he hopes Eddie knows what it means.

Eddie seems floored by this line of questioning. He's bright red and sputtering, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Steve lets himself stare. This'll go however it goes, but he's not ashamed. He's no more embarrassed to want Eddie than he would be to want a girl, which is to say, not at all.

"I- you- what? What? You- you know what flagging is?" He hisses the end of the sentence in a harsh whisper, so much like Robin did when he first told her about his crush that he can't stop himself from giggling.

Wrong move, since Eddie clearly takes this personally, and his expression shutters closed. Whoops.

"Hey, hey, no no no, none of that, hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Right, sure, I believe that, considering there's nothing goddamn else to laugh at in this kitchen, Harrington." Eddie is glaring at the floor, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Alright, maybe he gets what Vickie was saying earlier. Fuck the codes, fuck the metaphors. He can take Eddie in a fight if he has to. He's a simple guy, ok? He just wants to use his goddamn words.

Robin would be so proud.

He goes slowly, telegraphing every move so Eddie can stop him if he wants. He reaches for his hands where they're tucked into his elbows, gently easing them out until they're clasped between them.

He takes the opportunity to finally feel those rings he's fantasized about, seeing if they're as cool as they look. They aren't, they're warm from Eddie's skin. He spins one of them around Eddie's finger with his thumb, transfixed.

Eddie still looks tense, but now instead of hurt and distrust on his face, he looks like Steve hit in him in the head with something heavy. His pretty eyes are so big, blown completely black as he stares at their joined hands.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I was remembering the first time I told Robin I had a crush on you," Eddie's head snaps up again, "and she sounded exactly like you did just now, with that angry whisper voice. It made me laugh, that you guys are so alike. It makes sense, I guess. She's my favorite person, so of course I'd like you, when you're like. Not the same, I guess, but kinda a similar flavor of weird. She says I have a thing for nerds, y'know?"

Eddie blinks at him for a minute, apparently speechless. Some nerves start to creep back in, since the brief miscommunication scare burned out most of that white hot King Steve confidence in his chest. They must show on his face, because Eddie visibly shakes himself and finally opens his mouth.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, man, since the Upside Down, pretty much. The first time."

"Don't call me man when you're telling me you have a crush on me!"

Steve has to laugh at the comically offended look on Eddie's face. "Sorry. Do you prefer Eds? Baby? Big Boy?"

Eddie is so red Steve is surprised his face isn't steaming. He yanks one hand out of Steve's grip to smack him in the chest. Steve laughs and lets him, dropping their still-joined hands down between them and tangling their fingers.

"You're a fucking dick, Stevie. Can't believe I like you."

Steve grins at him, big and hopeful. "Yeah? You like me, Munson?"

Eddie shoves at him with a groan, but doesn't let go of his hand. "Pretty sure everyone in this town likes you, King Steve. It's like a rite of passage, or something."

Steve feels like he could walk on air, he isn't even going to get fussy about the King Steve thing. They can talk about that later. Eddie likes him! Eddie has a crush on him! He could fight a demogorgon with his bare hands right now, that's how powerful he feels.

Eddie gets quiet after a second, tugging a curl in front of his mouth again. Seems like a nervous tick, maybe. Steve notes that for later. He may not be much of a reader, but he's going to learn to read Eddie Munson like a book if it's the last thing he does.

"I thought, um. I kinda...hn. Ugh."

"Gonna need more than that, baby, I'm not fluent in Munson yet." That glow in his chest picks up a little again at the way Eddie flushes so pink and pretty at the petname.

"I thought you were straight." It comes out all in a rush, the words mumbled and slurred together through his hair.

Finally, it's Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. Take that, universe! "You meet a lot of straight guys who know what the Hanky Code is?"

Eddie shakes his head in wonderment. "Still can't believe The Steve Harrington knows what flagging is."

He's about to reply when the kitchen door flies open with a bang that sends the boys leaping backwards away from each other. Steve finds himself braced between Eddie and the door, brandishing the bottle opener from the fridge in front of him like a knife. He doesn't even remember grabbing it.

Robin is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and hair frizzing out around her head in a way she would despise if she was sober and not obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Jesus, Robs, you about gave me a heart attack, what the hell?"

"Sorry bubba, not important right now!"

He rolls his eyes. Of course not. Just his trauma that could have made him stab her if he hadn't caught himself, nothing major. This girl, he swears.

"Dingus! Focus!"

"Focus on what, Bobs?"

"She wants to kiss me, Steve!"

His eyes go wide. Thank fuck the door bounced off the wall and swung back shut behind her. That's not something to shout to a party full of gossipy strangers.

Still. This is a big moment! "Bobbie! What'd I tell you, huh?" He picks her up around the middle, swinging her around while she cackles wildly and bats at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you lunatic! Steven Elizabeth, you put me down right now, or I swear I'll never speak to you again!" She's laughing too hard for him to take her seriously, though.

He does take pity on her and set her back on her feet, stealing one more tight hug. He's so happy for her he could scream. This night has turned out better than he could have imagined.

"Tell me everything! What happened! What did she say? What did you say? How was the kiss?"

"Well we didn't actually kiss yet, exactly."

"Wait, then how do you know she wants to kiss you?"

"She told me! She said she thinks I'm really pretty and funny and smart and she's like you! She likes both, and she says her and Dan are done, like for real for real all the way done, and she held my hand, Steve! And she wants to go on a date! And she said she wanted to kiss me!"

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you, Bobs. What did you say when she said she wanted to kiss you?"

"I came down to tell you about it, obviously."

Oh, Bobbie, what the fuck. "Robin James Buckley. Do not tell me that a pretty girl tried to kiss you and you ran away and left her upstairs!"

The situation finally seems to register, and Robbie's hands go flailing around her face the way they do when she's overwhelmed.

"Oh no! Steve! Oh no!"

"Go, you insane person! Go back upstairs right now and kiss her this minute! Go!"

He physically herds her to the door, at which point she finally notices Eddie, who has been standing in the corner where Steve shoved him behind him when the door crashed open, watching them like he's wishing he had popcorn.

Fuck. Steve was so excited for Robbie he totally forgot he was here.

Robin's body goes rigid and all the color drains out of her face all at once.

Steve grabs her by the shoulders. "Hey, Bobbin, eyes on me, ok? Eyes on me." She finally drags her eyes away from where she's been staring at Eddie in horror, and Steve's heart breaks at the fear on her face. "It's ok, Bobbie, I swear to god it's ok. I was right, alright? I was right about him, we were talking before you came in. He's safe, I swear. We're safe, Bobbie, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"I promise I won't say a word, Birdie. Friends of Dorothy gotta stick together, right?" Eddie pipes up from the corner, stepping forward slowly and carefully, hands out front like he's approaching a skittish animal.

"You're- you're like u- me?" Oh, he loves her so much. Still protecting him, just in case.

"It's ok Bobs, I told him about me. I was about to get a kiss of my own before you came in, I think, actually."

Eddie jumps on the opportunity to cut the tension, ever the showman. Steve likes him so goddamn much. He grins impishly at Steve, that wide pretty mouth stretching out until those dimples Steve can't wait to kiss appear on his cheeks.

"Oh, you were, were you? Pretty presumptuous, Stevie-boy. Who says I kiss on the first date? Maybe I'm not that kind of boy."

"Oh, wow, ok, this is gonna be a lot to deal with, huh? Alright, I'm glad I'm not getting hate-crimed, and I'm glad you're finally doing something about your big gay crush, Dingus, but if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to kiss, and also I want to be far away from," she waves a hand between them, "whatever this is. Good luck boys, don't kiss in unlocked rooms! Vickie says she can give me a ride home, so I'll call you in the morning, bubba. Love you bye!"

She's out of the room like a shot, hopefully back up to Vickie, who he hopes is prepared to get used to this kind of thing. There are so many things to love about Robin Buckley, and honestly, this is one of them, but he can see why she might be an acquired taste. He thinks anyone who doesn't acquire that taste is a moron and not worth knowing, but he can see how those people might exist.

"Love you too, Robs!" he calls down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It's not a lock, but as long as he doesn't move, it'll do. And given that Eddie appears to have found his confidence and is leaning over him, bracing his arms on either side of Steve's head, he doesn't think he'll have to move any time soon.

Unless someone needs the kitchen, but they've been doing just fine so far, so they can burn that bridge when they come to it, or whatever people say.

He reaches down to toy with Eddie's belt loops, tugging him close and grinning up at him through his eyelashes, privately thrilled at the novelty of being shorter than his partner for once. Granted, he's slumped down the door a little, but still. It's nice. He can see why girls like it.

Eddie comes closer easily, resting their foreheads together. He reaches down to fiddle with a lock of Steve's hair and Steve feels like leaning into it like a cat getting its ears rubbed.

Lot of cat feelings tonight. He's not sure what to do with that.

"So.”

“So.”

“Steven Elizabeth, huh?"

Steve can't help but laugh, the tension broken once more. "Yeah, Rob's idea. We switched. Steven Elizabeth and Robin James. So we always have a piece of each other."

"Jesus H Christ, you guys are fucking adorable. This shit is why everyone thinks you're dating, though, you know that, right?"

"Ugh, yeah, I know. I don't actually mind, I mean, I should be so lucky, you know? And she's like. My person. My most important person. And we're probably gonna get married someday just so we can be each other's next of kin, and because it's not like she could marry whoever she ends up with anyway, or me if I end up with a guy, so it's like, why not, you know? I'd be building my life around her anyway, might as well make it legal.

"It's mostly just annoying when our friends don't believe us, because like, we're honest with you guys. Maybe not all of it, like Robbie isn't ready to be out and that's fine and she shouldn't have to be, but it kinda sucks that, like, Dustin thinks I would lie to him, you know? Because I wouldn't. Not about something real. Not when it matters. But he doesn't believe me, and that just. I dunno, man."

"It hurts."

"Yeah."

"I get that. You've been through a lot for these kids, you've put yourself on the line for them, you've given up a lot for them, and when they don't believe you about something like this, it feels like they're saying they don't trust you. Of course that hurts."

Steve swallows down the tears that want to fall. Now isn't the time for vulnerability like that, not in a stranger's crowded house. Still.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?" Oh, sweetheart does something to him. If this is how Eddie felt when he called him baby earlier, the blush makes more sense.

"Figure out exactly what I'm trying to say, and make it make sense. Usually only Robbie can do that."

"I dunno, maybe Birdie and me share a brain. Or maybe you and I just make sense to each other."

Steve flattens a palm against Eddie's chest, feeling the soothing thump beneath his hand. He did that. He put his hands on Eddie's chest and his mouth on Eddie's mouth and broke Eddie's ribs and didn't stop until that rhythm started up again. And now Eddie's here, and Eddie's heart is still beating, and Eddie hears him when he talks, and Eddie is looking at his lips again, and Steve suddenly can't go another second without kissing him.

He trails his hand up Eddie's chest, over his neck, savoring the way his breath hitches and the pulse under his palm speeds up. He keeps going, pushing his fingers into that thick riot of curls, already making mental notes of the products he's going to buy for Eddie because Jesus Christ, they're dry.

He tugs, and again, Eddie comes easy. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. There's no tongue, and their noses are a little smushed, and the angle is a little off, and he's kissed enough people that he can tell Eddie probably hasn't, but none of that matters.

He told Robin, back in that field, that he was holding off feelings he knew he would have for Eddie when all was said and done. He knows now he was right, and he's done holding them off. Has been done for a while, maybe.

He doesn't know where this is going, or what Eddie wants, or how they'll manage being two guys in a town like Hawkins, or what their friends will think. If they'll even tell their friends. What he does know is that he wants to find out the answers to all of those, and he wants to find them out with Eddie, and he wants to keep kissing Eddie, and also that he can't keep kissing Eddie here.

He pulls back, pecking that dimple finally, partly to reassure Eddie that he isn't running away and partly because he's wanted to for weeks, and pulls the kitchen door open, checking that the coast is clear before grabbing Eddie's hand and dragging him towards the front door.

"Where we going, Stevie?"

"You drove here, right?"

"Sure did. You want a ride somewhere? I thought you drove Birdie."

"I did, but you've got your van, don't you? Your van with doors that lock and a big open back seat?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he flails a little, just like Robin. It makes Steve smile.

"Yep! Yes, yeah, hell yeah, I do have my van, my van with those things, let's go! Chop chop, time's a-wasting! Your chariot awaits!" And he's off, doing that dorky little run for the driveway.

Steve grins, and puts his hands in his pockets, and follows his boy out into the night.

[florallylly]

steve harrington so used to people's eyes on him, doesn't notice when someone is watching him OR hyper vigilant but also really good at reading people, knows eddie has been sneaking peeks at him from behind his textbook

[stupidfreakingthoughts]

Thinking about teacher Steve Harrington. Because there is no way in hell Steve wouldn’t go into some type of career working with kids. He was too good at it, he loved it, loved having kids that he could take care of and provide support too in case their childhoods are anything like his was. because if there is any chance of Steve preventing another King of Hawkins High, he’ll take it.

Steve struggled with finding a career. He stayed at his job at Family Video working with Robin until she and the older group graduated and Nancy left to go to some fancy college away from all her trauma. Eddie, Robin and Jonathan went to a community college because that’s all they could afford and Steve was still stuck at his Family Video job. He decided to apply at the same college they all went to for the next fall, doing a two-year degree like the rest of them (except Nancy, she was taking a four-year english degree so that she could take her journalism career further).

After those two years, Eddie’s band got bigger and bigger until it could become his full time job. Corroded Coffin became one of the top metal bands in the world, touring and selling out venues. Meanwhile, Steve and Robin decided to go into the same career path, because they both loved their kids and they had never not worked together, it just felt right.

Steve wanted to work in a middle school, so that he could hopefully help kids out, stop them from becoming bullies like he was. He got a position as the Hawkins Middle Gym Coach, and Robin was the Drama teacher. Steve knew that not everyone was like him in middle school, plenty of people hated exercise and being active. He tried to make the class as fun as possible, playing fun games and not forcing anyone to do anything. Plus, there was always music playing in his class.

His students very quickly picked up on his love for the up and coming band, Corroded Coffin. Of course, they didn’t realize that he was the subject of most of their songs, whether they were sappy love songs (though still metal, of course) or some of CCs more obscure songs, the ones about bats and other dimensions that none of the public understood. His class just knew that whenever they were running laps, they were usually running along to the awesome guitar riffs and drum solos of Corroded Coffins music. They didn’t get why Mr. Harrington, the former basketball captain who was always in his sportswear or jerseys from different teams, liked this punk, metal band that just seemed completely out of his preferred genre of music.

But when they find out who Mr Harringtons husband is, it all starts to make sense.