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#dustin and lucas
loveinhawkins · 11 months
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Part 1 Part 2
At night, the shivers start for no reason.
Dustin changes into his thick winter PJs, gets blankets from the linen cupboard as quietly as he can so he doesn’t wake up his mom.
His room is stuffy, but he can hardly feel it—knows that by all rights, he should be suffocating in the heat. There’s sweat on his forehead, his chest, dripping down his back, but as he wraps himself up tight in the thick cotton layers, he can’t stop himself from shaking.
His dreams are vivid, feverish.
He’s sitting with his shield next to him, blades of grass scratching at his palms. He can hear Erica laughing, but it sounds wrong. Distorted.
Then he lifts up one hand in front of his face. It’s drenched in blood.
The gasping sound of someone choking.
“D-Dustin.”
Eddie. Eddie lying on the grass, staining it red, there’s—there’s so much—
“Dustin, p-please.”
There’s an awful gurgling noise from Eddie’s throat. Dustin feels sick.
“You—Dustin, you—you’ve gotta keep it in. Please, please.”
Eddie’s crying, his hands weakly grasping at the ground, slipping in the puddles of his own blood.
“Help,” he sobs. “Help me.”
Dustin tries. The blood runs through his fingers.
“Steve,” he whispers—tries to scream, but the fear has stolen his voice. “Steve.”
Steve isn’t coming.
They’re alone, and Dustin can only watch, frozen, as Eddie convulses, gasps for air; he’s dying, he’s dying, move, do something—
He wakes with a start to his mom knocking on the door.
“Dusty, have you overslept? Can I come in?”
Dustin sits up, runs the back of his hand across his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, but it comes out hoarse; he has to stop, clear his throat. “Sorry. Yeah.”
The door opens.
His mom takes one look at him and says, “Oh, honey. No school today.” As she gets closer, her eyes flicker over the bed, the blankets, his PJs. “Are you cold?”
Dustin nods. The sheets cling to his skin, damp with cold sweat.
His mom gently runs a hand through his hair, checks his forehead. “How about I run you a bath, huh? I’ll call the school.”
Dustin’s too exhausted to bring up the fact that she’s going to be late for work if she stays much longer.
He takes the bath—once his mom has left the room, drains some of the tub so he can fill it up with scorching hot water.
When he gets out, there’s multiple tins of soup, fresh bread, and crackers on the counter; his mom’s bringing a couple meals out of the fridge, some microwave ones, too.
“Just giving you options, hon,” she’s saying, “eat whatever you’d like, I’m going to the store later. Oh, I filled up Tews’s bowl so if he complains at you, the sweet thing is lying.”
Dustin makes a wordless noise of thanks.
His bed has been stripped; new sheets and blankets have already been put on, which makes him feel a pang of shame. The window’s been left open the tiniest bit, just to let some air in, but his stomach immediately drops at the sight.
“Dustin?” His mom’s looking at him searchingly. “Honey, I can call off work—”
“No,” he says quickly. Subtly digs his nails into his palm to try and stop himself from shaking. “No, mom, m’just gonna be boring and sleep.”
She’s still frowning, but he’s gotten good over the years at knowing what expression to pull, putting just the right inflection in his voice that silently says don’t look any closer, don’t worry. She leaves him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, with her work number written down on a notepad, makes him promise that he’ll call over even the smallest thing.
He makes the promise knowing that he won’t.
Closes the window as soon as he’s alone.
-
The phone rings early afternoon. He sluggishly does the math in his head for Steve and Robin’s shift patterns this week. They always try and call if he’s sick, whenever the store is quiet: when he had tonsillitis last winter, miserable with it, they gave running commentary on the day’s most ridiculous customers, passing the phone between them until he fell asleep.
Pick up the phone, Dustin thinks.
But he feels inexplicably heavy, lets it ring and ring and ring…
The nightmare seems to flicker in front of his eyes, a lingering unease deep in his gut. He thinks of Steve, of calling for him and not getting an answer, which would never happen, which could only mean the very worst—
He stumbles out of his room and picks up the phone, interrupting Robin’s breezy customer service spiel to mumble out, “Sorry, think I missed a call from—um, is Steve there?”
“Afternoon, Einstein! You just missed him, he’s getting lunch, but he’ll be back in, like—”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dustin says, feeling stupid and abruptly, mortifyingly young. “Just… just checking.”
There’s a fraction of a pause.
“Hey, Dustin?” Robin says, quieter now. Gentle. Dustin wants to cry. “You can wait with me, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Are you—”
He hangs up.
-
Time slips away from him. It’s only after the school day’s over that he realises his mistake: that when he’s sick, he usually whines and complains, asks for updates every class, even if it’s just whether Mike’s added to their drawings left underneath their cafeteria table.
He’s kept his walkie off all day.
He searches for it, clumsily turning in his bed, and when he switches it on, it’s to hear Mike repeatedly asking, “Dustin, do you copy?”
“Here,” Dustin says blearily, then remembers himself. “I copy. Over.”
“God, finally,” Mike says in that short way that means he’s been desperately worried. “You okay? They marked you off sick in home room, but I didn’t—”
“M’not really,” Dustin says—doesn’t know what he is, honestly. “Just. Kinda tired. Over.”
“Okay,” Mike says, after a pause. “Um, Nancy says if you feel better, she can pick you up tomorrow. And we can—you don’t have to do anything, we can just, like, chill in the basement. I was, uh, talking to Will, and he thinks he knows what Eddie’s plot twist is, and I think he’s got it, honestly, I—”
“Tell Nancy thanks,” Dustin says, “but I… I don’t think I, um—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Mike says. “No problem.”
The walkie falls silent, and Dustin gets the feeling that a few other conversations are happening on another channel. Then there’s a click, some static, and a voice again.
“Hi,” Lucas says. “Didn’t wanna wake you up if you were sleeping, so I, uh, used the spare key under the flower pot to drop off some stuff. Not—not homework, don’t worry.” A tiny chuckle. “I’m not a sadist.”
There’s some space left there, deliberately so. Dustin knows he’d normally make a joke. He can’t.
“Just some assignment marks came back,” Lucas says. “Hey, you got an A on that paper, the one about—”
“Thanks,” Dustin says.
He sounds blunt. He hates it.
“You don’t need to thank me, Dustin,” Lucas says softly. “But you’re welcome. Hope… hope you feel better.”
Dustin swallows.
More quiet. Another click.
“Hey,” Max says, as if nothing’s happened. “I’m behind on English, so I’m just gonna read out loud, I need to know there’s an audience or it’s not gonna stick. No complaints, my education’s on the line, Dusty-Bun.”
Max isn’t behind; Dustin knows this. He doesn’t complain.
She reads The Outsiders for at least twenty minutes. Things get hazy after that, because Tews comes in and settles on Dustin’s chest, purring, and Max’s voice fades into background noise.
Perhaps the phone rings again, but it sounds so far away, he could’ve dreamt it.
He wakes up at the sound of his mom opening the front door, the soft jangle of her house keys. He vaguely hears her play the answering machine, and he’d recognise the rise and fall of that voice anywhere.
Eddie has this rambling way of leaving a message, like he’s really having a conversation with someone rather than just talking to a machine. Dustin can’t make out the words from here. Wishes he could.
His mom enters with a fresh water glass and soup on a tray.
“Eddie called,” she says, with that warm tone of voice she’s used ever since she truly met him—when he watched her with wide eyes from a hospital bed and choked out, “I-I’m not—it’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”
“Hmm?”
She smiles at him. “He was just calling to say hi.”
Dustin smiles back weakly—knows that Eddie would’ve taken at least five minutes to even get round to that point.
-
This time, the terror comes when he’s wide awake, when it’s three o’clock in the morning and his heart pounds for no reason at all, breath catching like he’s been dumped into a cold, cold lake.
Dustin’s felt frozen before, but when Eddie…
It wasn’t like Max in the graveyard, where Steve shouting for him to call Nancy and Robin helped him snap out of it, gave him something to do.
He was alone.
He was alone, and he didn’t know how long it had been since Eddie had stopped breathing. He tried to count, and the numbers turned to static in his head.
Stop the bleeding. Help him breathe. Move. Fucking move, you’re killing him, you’re—
A light on in the hallway.
“Dusty? Oh, baby, breathe.”
Dustin tries. Chokes on it.
And his mom is leading him to her room like he’s five years old.
“There, sweetie, that’s it. Shh, breathe, breathe.”
Dustin half-collapses into her bed, and her bedspread is thick, but he’s so, so cold, and he can’t catch his breath—
“Shh, Dustin, shh, you’re okay, baby. Oh, honey, it’s… it’s the earthquake, isn’t it?”
His mom is holding his hand, guiding his breathing. In. Out.
“There. There you are, well done, baby. I’m going to call Steve, okay?”
Dustin tightens his grip on her hand. Gasps out an urgent, “No.”
It could be a bad night, could be a night that Steve needs all the rest he can get—
“Oh, Dusty, shh. Okay, honey, I won’t, won’t. Not right now.” She hugs him. “You know you can tell me anything? Always.”
Dustin closes his eyes.
I can’t.
-
He pretends to sleep. Feels his mom leave the bed. Hears her on the phone—can’t make out the conversation.
His heart’s beating rapidly again. Breathing short and sharp.
He slips into his room. Opens the window. Crawls out.
Shock of cold air. Rain on his skin. In his eyes. Blinks it away. He’s on his bike with no memory of deciding to do so. Lungs burning. Pedalling faster, faster—
He hits something, something stupidly small, a pathetic rock, but he goes down, like a kid freshly off training wheels.
Dustin wonders if this is how Eddie felt. If even while on the bike, he could still sense how close to death he was.
And it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, it’s not remotely the same, but as Dustin lies there in the rain, his palms and knees stinging, he kind of feels like he’s dying, too.
A car horn sounding, over and over. Like a desperate shout.
Dustin can’t breathe.
Clunk. A door opening. Footsteps. Running on gravel.
I didn’t run away this time, right?
“Hey! Hey, hey, hey. Dustin, look at me.”
Steve. Steve’s hand on his shoulder.
Dustin shudders, exhales. “I-I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“Jesus. Woah, woah, take your time.”
Steve lifts him up so carefully, avoiding Dustin’s hands from digging further into the dirt.
Dustin blinks, sees Steve’s frown, the way his eyes are darting all over him until they land on his knees.
Oh. He’s bleeding.
“Come on,” Steve says. “Here. Lean on me. I’ll drive you the rest of the way.”
And it’s only as Dustin hobbles over to Steve’s car that he realises what he’s done.
He’s biked almost all the way to Forest Hills.
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stincorrect · 2 years
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Lucas: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons! Dustin: Bet I can! Steve: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
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sevxnyn · 1 year
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Bitches be like;
"Ok, I get that Will is gay, but Mike's love for him came literally out of nowhere! "
The nowhere;
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(I take prints of the gif's from @luckytheloon post! All the credits go for her/him)."
"Why every friendship has to be gay? "
Hm... you live under a fucking rock? What about Robin and Steve relationship?
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What about Dustin and Lucas?
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Eddie and Dustin?
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There are other examples, but it's not gay, or is it? It's definitely not every relationship. Stop putting in plural.
"They are literally best friends! Plus it's the 80's! There weren't even gay people in these years."
Yes there was. Just because there wasn't a lot of them back then like nowadays, it doesn't mean that it didn't exist. An example is Alan Turing, who was openly gay even before the 80's and for that and other reasons he was Will's hero in his presentation. Stop being a idiot.
" They just did that to please these delusionals in their shitty game... I'm sure they menace the Duffers, bc there's no way they did this! "
No. They didn't. The Duffers brothers are smart. Everyone in the cast knows that they have planned everything since the beginning of the show. They know how they started, and they know how they are going to end things. They didn't just put random things into the show, or useless characters. They know what they're doing. Believe me or not, we're not an influence.
Some of them really need to shut up and learn how to think properly.
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findafight · 1 year
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At long last.... I've posted it.
Tennessee Ham and Strawberry Jam
Claudia and Sue grew up the best of friends, and there isn't anything they wouldn't do for each other. Including getting rid of an abusive husband together.
Or: the Goodbye Earl senior Henderclair fic.
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addie-your-queen · 2 years
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the difference between
Steve: Would you still love me if I was a slug
Robin: Ew no
and
Dustin: Would you still love me if I was a slug
Lucas: obviously
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mxdnights0 · 1 year
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Soulmate who wasn’t meant to be
Inspired by a TikTok by @phillipnillip :))
There Dustin Sat . . . Crying his eyes out in Steve Harrington’s arms. Over someone who was supposed to be his best friend.
He’ll forever remember that exact moment. The exact moment his heart shattered.
“It’ll Pass” he had replied.
Bullshit
Dustin tried to speak, but automatically choked back a sob. Steve just rubbed his back, gently swaying “Let it out, Kid. It’ll pass-“ he hummed, not knowing that that had been exactly what Lucas told him.
Dustin shook his head no. It was NOT going to be okay. It’ll Pass. He hated those words.
“Never say those words again, Please-“ Dustin begged quietly, his voice threatening to break.
Steve nodded and knocked the younger’s hat off, running his fingers through the curls “You and I are going to calm down, kay? We’re going to call over Will because lord knows he probably understands, and Jonathan. Kapeesh?” Steve offered, a small grin on his face.
Dustin nodded, his eyes cracking into a small smile at the sight of the other. “Alright, deal-“
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alexschlitz · 2 years
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eddie munson never died he tucked his arms and legs into his belly curled into a ball and he just rolled away
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mroddmod · 2 years
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'86, baby!
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mollymurakami · 1 year
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were we just kids, just starting out
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random-jot · 2 years
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If Stranger Things was british
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dis-a-ppointment · 2 years
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Every group got
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• Sensible • Dumbass • Homosexual • Dork •
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samgelina-jolie · 1 year
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stincorrect · 2 years
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Dustin: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year. Max: Well, that’s just your personal opinion. I don’t have anger issues. Lucas, do you think I have anger issues? Lucas: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.
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kennahjune · 2 months
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Having thoughts of The Party being touchy as all fuck after everything.
Like you cannot enter nor leave any kind of hang out without a hug, high-five, pat, or anything from everyone you were hanging out with.
And then, suddenly, you aren’t able to leave without a kiss or hug of some kind from Steve.
It started after the bullshit that was the Starcourt Mall. The kids were leaving Steve’s house from a DnD session maybe 2 months before the Byers left for Cali.
Dustin was taking forever to pull his shoes on and get out the house to his moms car and everyone was complaining. It was one of those rare times where Steve wasn’t the one carting them all around— they all had their own rides.
Dustin got his shoes on and Steve handed him his bag and— without thinking— pressed a kiss to the top of his hat before waving him out the door.
The rest of the kids are silent until Mike speaks up bitchily “what about us, asshole?”
Steve has no idea what they mean until El points to her head with a grin. Steve deals out head and forehead kisses for everyone and waves them off to their respective rides.
And then it just— sticks. At first it’s with just the kids whenever he sees them. He’ll usually greet them with a hug or an exasperated sigh and then say goodbye with a kiss to their foreheads.
Not even Mike complains. This is the kind of shit he never got while growing up— might as well make the best of it.
And then it migrates to Robin as well, and the Nancy is joining in on the hugs (they’re still too awkward for the kisses but the hugs are enough for now).
And Steve never holds back, not even in public. Again, no one complains.
And that’s how Hellfire finds out about the kissing arrangement (that might be the title of this if I make it an actual fic). They watch as Steve presses a forehead kiss to Mike, Lucas, and Dustin before waving them off and then presses a kiss to Max’s head and giving her a tight hug.
The guys try to make fun of the kids for it but none of them are embarrassed.
“It’s Steve, dude. He’s like a mom.”
“The kisses are actually really comforting.”
“It’s a Party thing.”
And then the fuckery of 1986 and Vecna happens and suddenly Eddie’s in on the hugs and pats and high-fives.
And then.
And then.
He’s in on the kisses.
Steve doles out the kisses like usual one night after Hellfire and gives one to everyone— including Eddie.
And Eddie panics and gives Steve one right back.
And then the kids are going feral about wanting to give Steve a kiss too.
And Eddie leaves during the chaos.
And then they don’t talk about it.
Until Steve and Eddie do it again.
And the kids accept is as the new normal; you have to give Steve a kiss back.
And then Steve and Eddie have an excuse to kiss each other on the foreheads and cheeks and noses.
One night they’re hanging out, just the two of them at the trailer after Wayne left for work.
Steve had greeted Eddie with a tight hug the moment he’d gotten in the trailer. Eddie had squeezed back just as tight if not tighter.
Steve was getting ready to leave, and on instinct leant in to kiss Eddie, but Eddie was also leaning in to kiss Steve. So they meet in the middle and accidentally kiss on the lips.
And then the new normal for Steve and Eddie is kissing on the lips goodbye.
Idk, just Steve being a very touchy feely person makes me so happy
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mardyart · 1 year
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teacher steve harrington
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ikarakie · 1 year
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after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.
he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")
"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.
"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."
none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.
dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.
the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.
"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.
"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.
"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.
"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."
the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.
steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.
"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.
"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)
"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"
eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.
"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.
"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.
eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.
he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.
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